Whiskey Rebellion Part 9

"Great advice, Kate," Nick said. "It's always a good idea to go out with a complete stranger while you're drugged. What if he's a s.e.x offender?"

"Fine, stay home and be pitiful all night. But I'm telling you, you can't let these things keep you down. You could be standing up your future husband tonight." Kate pulled open my front door with much less trouble than I always seemed to have and looked back at me.

"Don't forget the Officer's Gala is tomorrow night. Mike and I can pick you up if you want."

How big of a loser would that make me to be Kate and Mike's third wheel for a big party? So I did what any sensible girl would have done. I lied.

"There's no need to pick me up. I have a date." I winced inside as I heard the words, but they'd just slipped out somehow.

"Great. I can't wait to meet him," she said with a wicked smile.

I lay frozen on the couch, trying to come up with a solution for the mess I just made.

"You are so lying," Nick said.

"Shut up. I'll figure out something. If I hadn't told her I had a date she would have set me up with another stranger."

"She loves you and only has your best interest at heart."

"Which is about the worst thing you can say about anyone. I'm perfectly comfortable going places without a man on my arm." This was actually a lie. Having a male escort to big events was like a security blanket to me, and going without one made me feel like I was walking into a room full of people naked.

"Why are you even going to the Officer's Gala?" Nick asked.

"I've gone every year since I was sixteen. My dad was a cop, and the gala always raises a lot of money. This will be the first year my mom doesn't go."

"Did your dad die in the line of duty?" Nick asked softly as he ran his hand down the length of my hair in a comforting gesture.

"No, he retired a few years back. He had a heart attack watching a Falcons game on the television last fall."

"That's pretty understandable considering how they played last season. I'm sorry you lost him."

"Me too. He was a good man. A good cop. Which is why I go to the gala and support the rest of you."

"Well, since we agree on that point, it only makes sense that we go together. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty. Now, do you have anything to eat around here?" he asked, dislodging me off his lap with a grunt and heading toward the kitchen.

"Excuse me. Who are you? It's like you've just invaded my life and now I can't get rid of you. That's the third time you've mentioned us working together, and I have to say I don't remember agreeing to anything of the sort. I'm not sure I even like you."

He just winked and went back to rummaging through my refrigerator.

"You can't stay," I said loudly. "I'm not in the mood for company." I heaved out a painful sigh and slowly got up off the couch. He wasn't going to ignore me in my own apartment.

"Hey, you didn't have to get up," he said as I leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to look intimidating.

"Oh, I think I did. You're sneaky, but I've got you figured out."

"Oh, do you?" he said with his heart-stopping smile again.

"Definitely. You've had too many sides since the first moment I've met you, ranging from serious cop to supreme a.s.shole to the Boy Scout next door. Which one is the real Nick Dempsey, I wonder? The first words out of anyone's mouth when your name pops up is that you're a good cop. The compliments seem to stop there."

He was watching me with an unreadable face, the corners of his mouth set, waiting for me to go on.

"You need me for something," I said matter of factly. "You wouldn't bother with me otherwise."

He moved closer, like a hunter stalking his prey, and for the first time I really saw the quietly contained danger lurking within. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned in and put his face close to mine. Apparently the dark side was a huge turn on for me. Who knew?

"You're right," he whispered. "I do need you for something."

I could feel the hardness of his body pressed to mine and the heat that radiated from it, and I realized I was holding my breath.

I was still standing there turned on and confused when he backed away and grabbed his windbreaker.

"You did that on purpose," I said. "Tell me what you want and then get out. I don't have the time to play games with you, and more importantly I don't want to play games with you."

"You are such a liar," Nick said, giving me that devastating smile. "Your refrigerator is emptier than mine. I'm not sure how that's possible." He seemed baffled for a moment but was back to his no-nonsense self in short order. "What I want from you is work related, but we can talk about it another time when you're not so-injured. I've got to get out of here. Don't forget the Officer's Gala tomorrow. Make sure you wear something s.e.xy. Maybe no underwear."

I was pretty sure my mother wouldn't like Nick Dempsey.

"Oh, and Addison," Nick said, trapping me against the counter with his body again. "I might not have been completely honest earlier. I want something else from you too."

And then he kissed me. This was not a kiss meant to tease. This kiss was serious business, with tongue and everything. I remember thinking I should protest just a little so he wouldn't think I was easy, but then all the thoughts leaked out of my ears, and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back. My head began to buzz and heat shot to all my favorite places.

Fortunately, Nick had more control than I did and he pulled back before I could embarra.s.s myself by begging. He gave me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and then he was out the door.

I learned two things from the whole experience. One: I've never had good s.e.x. Two: I really wanted some.

I was tired, irritated, sore and really turned on, so I took Kate's advice and downed a Vicodin with the hopes it would put me out of my misery.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Friday It was the last day of school.

Thank G.o.d.

And what made it even better was that there was only a half day of cla.s.ses so the seniors could have plenty of time to get ready for graduation that night.

It was the second week of June, and summer lay over the state like a wet blanket that was suffocating the life out of everything. The weather was unpredictable, with severe storms raging one moment followed by heat waves that made citizens irritable and seniors die from heat stroke. The only thing worse than Georgia in June was Georgia in July and August.

When I was a teenager, I used to sit at my cramped school desk-o ne that somehow always managed to have gum on the underside so it stuck to my knees-and wait impatiently for the bell to ring at the end of the day.

As soon as I heard that glorious sound I'd grab my backpack and rush out the door. I'd head directly to my job at The Drug Mart, where I sold a lot of condoms and greeting cards, and I'd wish like crazy that I could just hurry up and graduate so I could be a part of the real world.

Somehow, after four years of college, I'd ended up in the same place I started, sitting at a little larger desk and needing the bell to ring worse than a wino with the shakes and a booze shortage.

When the bell rang at twelve-thirty I grabbed my things and rushed into the hallway, taking five seconds to lock my cla.s.sroom door. I turned around and ran right into Rose Marie Valentine.

"Oooomph," she said.

I watched her fall in slow motion onto her well-padded posterior. It wasn't pretty.

"Oh my gosh. Are you okay?" I asked, scrambling down beside her as quickly as I could with my sore knee. We probably looked like a Vaudeville act to the casual observer. I gathered her papers and purse and tried to heft her up by the elbow, but Rose Marie was a lot of woman. It was a two handed job and I was one short, so I dropped her things on the ground again and put more of my weight behind the effort.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she said, her gla.s.ses skewed at an odd angle on her nose and her breath huffing and puffing like she'd just run the Boston Marathon.

"My goodness, you sure are in a hurry. You'd think this was the last day of school or something." She twittered at her own joke and adjusted her gla.s.ses. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm headed to the mall. I'm going to the Officer's Gala tonight with some friends and I need a new dress."

"Oh, really?" Rose Marie said, her eyes lighting up. "That sounds so exciting. You have such an adventurous life. I just go home to my babies every day and do a lot of crossword puzzles. And then of course there's Days of Our Lives. It's like my second family."

I'd seen Rose Marie's babies. She had framed pictures of them all over her desk. She had two Mastiffs that were the size of small horses and they each had their own bedroom in her small duplex.

"I wish my life was as exciting as yours. I don't even remember the last time I went to the mall."

Rose Marie's eyes got all misty and depressed and I felt as low as someone who had just kicked a puppy with a pointy-toed shoe. Not to mention the fact that I had just knocked her on her a.s.s. Before I could stop myself, I heard the words coming out of my mouth.

"Why don't you come with me? It always helps to have a second opinion. But we have to hurry because I have exactly seven hours to make myself presentable."

Geez, I was such a sucker. Her face lit up, pink and round like Mrs. Claus.

"Why, that sounds like fun. And if we have time we can stop for lunch at that restaurant in the mall where each room is a different continent. I like to sit in the Australia room because the waiters are almost naked and they've got 'em all slicked up with oil."

I liked the restaurant for the same reason, so I nodded in agreement. "Fine, but if they try to put us in Antarctica I'm going to protest. There's nothing s.e.xy about a pasty white guy in a parka."

"Amen, sister." Rose Marie practically bounced out of her faux leather mules her excitement was so palpable. "And maybe we could order a couple of those drinks with the fancy umbrellas and fruit. It could be a real girl's day out."

"Uh-huh."

Some day I was going to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"What do you think about this one?" I asked, as I paraded out of the dressing room in the twenty-second dress I'd tried on. Rose Marie was a fas.h.i.+on critic of epic proportions, which I considered odd for someone who looked like a dumpling wrapped in a tablecloth every time I saw her.

"Ooh, that one's good."

I kind of thought so myself and was already imagining what kind of shoes I could buy to go with the red strapless sheath. The hem even went past my knees, so it covered up the swollen parts and bruises. The s.h.i.+mmering red complimented my golden skin tone, and I knew it was just the thing to make Nick beg.

"Of course, that kind of dress might give your date the wrong idea," Rose Marie said with a little frown. "I don't know if you should advertise yourself like that."

I was past the point of caring what I was advertising. My feet hurt, my Extra Strength Tylenol was wearing off and I was one step away from telling Rose Marie exactly what she could do with her opinions on fas.h.i.+on. "I'm buying this dress," I said defiantly.

Rose Marie blinked up at me owlishly. "It's a beautiful dress. Of course, it'll look better with Spanx. That way you don't' have any unseemly lumps."

"Are you saying I have lumps?" I asked, my voice sounding suspiciously like a junkyard dog growling.

"No, no," she said, swallowing nervously. "Even the movie stars wear them. I read it in a magazine. It'll just make you more streamlined. Though it might be a hindrance if you're looking to get lucky." She pursed her lips and looked thoughtful. "There's nothing s.e.xy about looking like your body's being squeezed out of a sausage casing."

My eyes got bigger the longer she talked and I realized I'd been out of the dating game far too long. Greg and I had been together two years, so I'd gotten comfortable not having to make too much of an effort.

"Sweet Mary," I said as imagines flitted through my mind of putting Nick's eye out with a girdle.

"Of course, you won't have to worry about it if you don't give in too easy."

"Right." I nodded my head in agreement and tried to look non-desperate. "Let's go buy some Spanx. It's like a modern day chast.i.ty belt."

Rose Marie hefted herself off the bench as I made my way back toward the fitting room. "Of course, you could always buy the crotchless kind just in case."

My eye twitched once before I closed myself in the dressing room. I really needed a margarita.

After spending a couple of hours in Rose Marie's company, I had the sinking feeling I knew why she spent most of her time with her dogs. She was the most socially inept person I'd ever come across. And I'd come across my share. Rose Marie made me look like a freaking diplomat.

I dragged her through the mall in search of killer shoes for the killer dress I'd just spent a fortune on. But the way I looked at it, a measly couple hundred bucks wasn't all that much in the grand scheme of the whole five thousand I was saving for. Skewed logic works in mysterious ways when you're desperate for s.e.xy shoes.

I found the perfect strappy four-inch heels for slightly less than I paid for the dress and rationalized the cost somehow in my mind when I stood in line to pay for them, but I've since forgotten what my reasoning was.

Rose Marie was bouncing happily beside me as I handed over my credit card. She was obviously spending money vicariously. I was thinking I needed to skip the margarita and go straight to the hot fudge sundae. I didn't even have to feel guilty about it because I knew the Spanx would suck in the calories from the chocolate sauce.

"Excuse me," said a husky southern voice that was as thick as b.u.t.ter cream from behind me.

I'm not afraid to admit that I was a little scared to turn around. All I needed was an irate spouse who I'd recently caught cheating to shove a fist in my face. A broken nose wouldn't go well at all with my new dress.

I turned around and looked up into a pair of big blue eyes. f.a.n.n.y Kimble had always been a beautiful woman, but I took a step back anyway. You never knew what a woman would do when her man was suspected of cheating. Even if I'd been decked out in my red dress with perfect hair and makeup, I couldn't hold a candle next to f.a.n.n.y. h.e.l.l, Loretta Swanson would look like she'd just rolled out of the missionary barrel standing next to f.a.n.n.y. Staring at f.a.n.n.y Kimble was as close as I'd come in a long time to having a religious experience.

I heard a throat clear behind me and realized I was holding up the line, so I grabbed my new shoes and stepped out of the store with f.a.n.n.y, Rose Marie trailing after me like a lost puppy.

"I'm sorry to catch you off guard like this," f.a.n.n.y said. "But I've been trying to get the courage to speak to you, and this seemed to be my best chance."

Her hair s.h.i.+mmered like black diamonds under the mall track lighting and I couldn't help but notice how smooth her lipstick was. There were no creases or dead skin visible, and her eyebrows were perfectly arched and smoothed. She was six feet tall and I had to look up to see into her baby blues.

"If this is about the investigation, I believe you're supposed to speak with Kate. She's the boss."

"I know, and I will, but I just wanted to tell you personally that you can stop investigating John. I guess I had pre-wedding jitters and overreacted. He promised that I was the only one for him and that he loved me. There has to be unwavering trust between two people that are getting married, don't you think?"

I nodded, but I was pretty sure I wasn't the best person to ask. I had unwavering trust in my last fiance and look where that got me.

"Thanks, Addison. I knew you'd understand. I think it'll be best for all of us if you just forget this whole mess. I'll make sure to compensate the agency for the time you put in." She walked in the opposite direction and every man in the vicinity stopped what he was doing and watched her exit.

"What's that look on your face?" Rose Marie asked.

"It's a look that means John Hyatt is sc.u.m. I'd bet my Z that he guilted her into making her think she was the one who was in the wrong. All that mumbo jumbo about unconditional trust. Which means he has something very big to hide. And until Kate gives me direct orders to stop working on the case, John Hyatt is going to be on my radar."

Depression and guilt over my monetary situation didn't set in until I was on my second margarita in the Australia room of the restaurant. The walls were made to look like rugged cliffs amidst the outback, and scraggly shrubs sprouted along the walls. A large fake snake was coiled behind Rose Marie's head and stared at me out of gla.s.s eyes, judging me every time I took a sip of margarita.