Whiskey Rebellion Part 5

"Have you seen this guy?" I said by way of greeting. "That's not even a face a mother would love. How is this guy bagging chicks?"

"It takes all kinds," Kate said. "Plus, his wife told me he has other attributes that can't be seen on first impression, if you get my drift."

"Huh," I said and disconnected.

I took a couple more shots of Dr. Crumb entering the hotel and sat back into my waiting position. I'd found that sitting still by myself was much harder than sitting still with Kate in the car, so in about half an hour's time I'd eaten all my trail mix, finished two Sudoku puzzles and graded thirty quizzes.

The summer sun was still high, and I started to wonder how Dr. Crumb could have s.e.x in the daylight. Greg and I had never done it in the daylight. If we were going to do it at all, it had to be right before The Tonight Show came on. Greg had it down to a science. He'd finish at exactly 10:29, roll over and flip on the T.V. Though, quite frankly, even though the s.e.x was terrible, there were times I missed having a man sleep over. Greg never complained about having to get up in the middle of the night and plug a hole in the roof when he slept over.

"Okay, don't go there." I was through thinking about Greg.

I slid out of the Z to stretch my legs and cure my boredom. I jogged in place, did some stretches and looked at my watch again. 6:42. So apparently Dr. Crumb had some staying power.

I was on my third set of leg stretches when I saw Dr. Crumb come out of the hotel. And he wasn't alone.

"Holy s.h.i.+t."

I jerked my car door open to get the camera and somehow my head and the door made contact.

"Ouch, s.h.i.+t, why me?" I rubbed the spot furiously and grabbed the camera with my other hand. I hunkered behind my car and wiped my still watering eyes before looking through the lens. I'd hit my head in the same d.a.m.n spot I had yesterday.

"Gotcha."

I snapped a couple of photos and was especially proud of the one I got of him in a torrid embrace. Mrs. Crumb was going to be extremely surprised. Dr. Crumb didn't have a girlfriend. Dr. Crumb had a boyfriend.

I guess I could see the appeal of looking at something a little different when all you did was inspect v.a.g.i.n.as all day.

I was a little torn about catching Dr. Crumb in the act. I held the potential to ruin thirteen years of marriage by showing his wife a few photos. On the other hand, he was cheating and I really needed the extra paycheck. Technically, I wouldn't be ruining his marriage because Kate would be showing the photos to Mrs. Crumb.

Guilt absolved.

This revelation deserved a trip to Dairy Queen. It was just after seven and I hadn't eaten dinner. I parked the Z and went inside, hoping they'd give me a bag of ice for my throbbing forehead if I ordered enough food.

"Geez, lady. What did you do to your head?"

So much for hoping no one would notice.

"I had a little accident. I'll take an Oreo Blizzard and a bag of ice, please."

I collected the ice cream and headed back to my car with the ice pressed to my forehead.

"Ahhh-"

I pressed the electronic remote and screamed as a hand squeezed my shoulder.

"What the h.e.l.l are you screaming for?"

Oh, I so did not need this right now. I tried to make a quick deal with G.o.d, swearing I wouldn't miss church for the rest of the year if he'd just make this man go away.

"h.e.l.lo-Addison?" He snapped his fingers in front of my face a couple of times. "What are you doing?"

"I was praying that G.o.d would make you go away."

Nick laughed and the sound turned my insides to jelly. It was deeply masculine and s.h.i.+vered all the way down my spine. It had to be because I had a head injury. There was no other excuse.

"And what do you mean, why am I screaming? You don't just walk up to a woman in a parking lot and grab her. I thought I was being mugged."

"I called your name, but you were so busy making o.r.g.a.s.mic noises with your ice cream that you didn't hear me."

Heat washed over my face. He was right. I had been making o.r.g.a.s.mic noises. I loved ice cream. A lot.

"I'm going home. My head hurts and I can't think fast enough to spar with you tonight. What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was getting gas across the street, and it was hard to miss the flaming red blur and squealing tires as you sped into the parking lot. It must have been an ice cream emergency."

I must have hit my head harder than I'd thought because the next thing I knew everything went dark, and when I woke up I was in a place I'd never been before, and it smelled fabulous.

"You smell so good," I said, taking a big whiff of Nick's neck. I think I might have accidentally licked him, but I couldn't be too sure.

"Well, I do try to shower everyday," he said, leaning my head back so he could look me in the eyes. "That's a pretty nasty b.u.mp you have there. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

His face was close enough that his breath feathered my lips, and I sighed as I felt the familiar stomach clutch of attraction. You'd think my body and my brain would be in agreement over the fact that Nick was all wrong for me, but my body insisted on being stubborn.

"I hit it on my steering wheel yesterday when I ran you off the road."

"That would explain why you looked so crazy in Kate's office. Maybe you jarred something loose."

"And then tonight I ran into my car door when I was trying to get to the camera to take some pictures. I think I hit it harder than I thought."

I looked around, realizing I was sprawled on the ground of a Dairy Queen parking lot. A small crowd had gathered to stare at me, while others walked by like they saw women littering parking lots every day. Nick's arms felt better holding me close than I wanted to admit, so I was reluctant to tell him I was okay to stand up when a sudden thought came to me. I jumped up and groaned as the ache in my head intensified. "Where's my ice cream? Is it okay?"

Nick looked at me a little incredulously, but obviously saw the determination in my face and looked around for my ice cream.

"Sorry, kiddo. The ice cream is toast. If I would have known how much you wanted it I would have let you fall to the ground and grabbed it instead."

"Well, s.h.i.+t."

"Looks like. Sorry."

"Why are you being so nice to me? I thought you were the tough guy without a heart."

"Don't let my concern fool you. I saw Kate's camera on the seat and knew she'd be p.i.s.sed if it was stolen while you were lying on the ground unconscious."

"Gee, thanks." I stood up shakily and got into the driver's seat, wondering how many times I could embarra.s.s myself in front of the same man. The answer wasn't comforting.

"I'm going to follow you home. You still look a little shaky."

I normally would have told him thanks, but no thanks, but I was still feeling a little unsteady.

"I'd appreciate that."

We made it to my apartment with no major mishaps, and I decided to park close to the stairs and take my chances with falling brick crus.h.i.+ng my car. I wanted nothing more than to crawl up the stairs and fall into bed.

I was surprised when the car door opened and Nick was there to help me gather my things and push me up to my apartment.

"You're ruining your tough guy image."

"I just like to make sure there are no dead bodies on my watch."

"You're such a giver."

I unlocked the front door and Nick shoved it open for me so I could stumble inside. I fell face first onto the couch and decided everything would be okay once the room stopped spinning. I heard Nick rummaging around in the kitchen and rolled over so I could see what he was doing. The light hurt my eyes, so I lay there with them closed and hoped he would leave soon.

A bag of ice mysteriously appeared on my forehead.

"Ahh-thank you."

"I don't know why I have this insane urge to take care of you," Nick said. "It seems like you're used to having these things happen to you."

"Yep. Someday I'll tell you about my soph.o.m.ore year of college. This is nothing compared to that."

"Are you holding up okay?" Nick asked.

I stayed silent because I wasn't sure exactly what traumatic event he was talking about. There had already been so many.

"About finding your princ.i.p.al dead in a parking lot," he clarified.

"As well as can be expected. The funeral's tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'll be there with a few other undercover officers." He squeezed the back of my neck between his thumb and forefinger and I felt like purring. I was a little tense for some reason.

"Have you found out anything about Mr. Butler's murder?"

"We looked at the video tape from the parking lot, but the location of the stabbing was just out of range of the camera. We're in the process of identifying everyone we see on the tapes from inside the club as well as the license plate numbers from the parking lot."

"Stabbing?" For some reason not knowing how Mr. Butler had died made it seem less real. I hiccupped into a couch pillow and squenched my eyes closed. "What the h.e.l.l was he doing in that place?" I asked, not expecting an answer. "What the h.e.l.l was I doing there? If he hadn't seen me on stage he never would have left so soon."

"This isn't your fault, Addison. You were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens to everyone."

Surely he didn't expect me to believe that things like that happen to everyone. I was a freak of nature, probably cursed at birth by Rumpelstiltskin or some other crazy s.h.i.+t. If Nick Dempsey had any indication of self-preservation, he would run like h.e.l.l in the opposite direction and never speak to me again.

"Is there anything you need me to get you before I leave?"

"There's some aspirin in the kitchen cabinet above the coffee pot, and there's a half pint of hazelnut ice cream in the freezer."

"It seems to me you have an obsession with ice cream. Maybe you need to get a man to help control these urges."

"I had a man. He left me for the home economics teacher. I'll pa.s.s, thanks."

I heard him rummaging through the freezer and sat up a little. Nick wasn't such a bad guy.

"Looks like Dr. Crumb is guilty," he said, pausing by the table with all my stakeout paraphernalia on it. "Nice photos."

"Thanks. I'm sure it'll give Mrs. Crumb a surprise, but it's better to know for sure than to always wonder."

I took the aspirin and knocked it back with a spoonful of hazelnut ice cream.

"Sounds like you know from experience."

"Nah. I was pretty much blindsided."

"Then he obviously wasn't the right man for you. I think I'd notice if someone that mattered seemed like they were drifting. Why'd you want to marry a guy like that, anyway?

I kept my eyes closed and decided I had a better chance of getting him out of my apartment if I just answered the question. "It's not like he started out as lying, cheating sc.u.m," I said. "He was charming and smart, and I was almost thirty."

"Ohhhh," he said laughing. "Old maid status."

"Shut up. In the city being thirty and single is no big deal, but in Whiskey Bayou everyone is expected to marry and reproduce shortly after graduation. You have no idea what it's like to walk down the street and have people look at you like your ovaries are no better than dried prunes."

"You're right. I don't."

"Greg was exactly what I was looking for in a man. He had a respectable job and he would have been a good father."

"And he was cheating sc.u.m."

"Yeah," I said depressed. "That, too."

"You never mentioned pa.s.sion. Where was the spark? You can't spend fifty years of your life admiring his charisma and intelligence."

"Spark doesn't last," I said, getting irritated because I knew he was at least partially right. "It's never a good idea to let hormones make the important decisions in life." I opened my eyes and finally looked him in the eye. His c.o.c.ky grin was not rea.s.suring.

"Maybe next time you should look for someone who gives you better o.r.g.a.s.ms than a pint of Haagen Dazs."

"Get out," I said, wis.h.i.+ng I had the strength to throw something in his direction.

"Hey, look on the bright side. Right at this moment a whole room full of cops are watching you take your clothes off on tape. I'm sure you'll find a man in no time after that."

"Out," I said and pointed toward the door. I ignored his laughter as he let himself out of my apartment. I tried to console myself with a bite of ice cream, but I realized he was right. I did have better o.r.g.a.s.ms with frozen desserts than with a man.

As far as I was concerned, real o.r.g.a.s.ms were myths anyway. And any man watching me strip on that tape would probably suffer from erectile dysfunction for the rest of his life.

I decided to take back the nice thoughts I was having about Nick Dempsey. He was still a jerk, and I'd had more than my fill of jerks lately. Greg and Nick were packaged differently, but I had a sinking feeling that they were very much the same on the inside.

CHAPTER SIX.