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“That works.”
“Remember, you set the pace.”
He grinned. “If I keel over you should probably stop.”
“I promise to dial 911 promptly.”
“That would be mighty kind of you.”
“It’s the least I could do. After all, I do want to get paid.”
Chase laughed. “You have lived in this city too long. Ah.” Grimacing, he put a hand to his side.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just my ribs. Old injury.”
Right. She tried not to smile. “Want to slow down?”
“Just for a while.”
She immediately brought them down to a brisk walk. “What happened to your ribs?”
“I tell you that and I’ll have to admit to my sordid past.” He gave her one of his disarming smiles. “You’re the one who seems a bit off your feed today.”
She hadn’t heard that phrase in a while. Her dad must have used it a hundred times while she was growing up. Probably still did. “I just found out that one of my friends is thinking about leaving the city and getting a job back home.”
“Home being?”
“Wisconsin.”
He let out a low whistle. “Long ways off. How did she end up here?”
“Like the rest—” She stopped herself. Did she really want to open up that discussion? Actually she’d already admitted to him that she’d come to New York in search of a singing career. Bringing it up again could be a great lead-in to finding out about his meeting yesterday. “It seems like most of the friends I’ve made here I met standing in line for auditions.”
“I see. Is she working on Broadway?”
“No. That’s part of the problem.”
“So she works at the hotel?”
“She hasn’t decided for sure about leaving and obviously hasn’t given her notice yet, so I don’t feel comfortable talking about it.” Trying to sound casual, she asked, “How did your meeting with the mysterious playwright go?”
He made a sound of disgust. “It got postponed until tomorrow.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“That means I’ll need your services for an extra day.”
“I’ll check my appointment book, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” No, the real problem was the excitement that blossomed in her chest. She didn’t understand it. Certainly hadn’t expected the reaction. She’d had plenty of good-looking clients over the past couple of years. Even made the mistake of dating one of them. Which absolutely wouldn’t happen again.
“You ever think about going home?”
“Not really.”
“What is it about New York that you love?”
Nothing readily came to mind. She had to think about it. “The energy. The cultural diversity. The food.”
“Now, what do you miss about Indiana?”
“My family,” she said automatically. “Clean air. Clear blue skies. Corny county fairs. And never having to worry about whether I locked my apartment door or not.” She sighed. “I miss having a car, too. What about you?”
He looked surprised. “Me? I kind of flit around, so the question isn’t as applicable.”
“You said you’ve been living between Los Angeles and Houston.”
“Right,” he said slowly. “Guess home was never what you’d call a Norman Rockwell painting. Mama’s a good woman. Not the cookie-baking type, but she ran a strict household. I still managed to give her a run for her money.”
She liked the fondness in his voice when he talked about her. “Your father?”
“You mean the sperm donor?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “That’s about the only thing I fault my mama for. She never should’ve stayed with the worthless son of a bitch.”
“I’m sorry,” Dana said quietly because she didn’t know what else to say. Still, she regretted saying that. It sounded too much like pity.
Chase muttered a curse, his rudeness taking her aback, but before she could say anything he sprinted ahead.
She stopped and stared, dumfounded, and then watched him scoop up a boy, both of them tumbling onto the grass. A second later, an out-of-control skateboarder plowed past the spot where the boy had been playing with a toy truck.
“Oh, my! Toby!” A woman carrying a baby ran toward them. “Toby.” She dropped to her knees, balancing the baby on one hip while checking the boy’s unnaturally bent arm. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Toby made a disgusted face at his mother’s gentle probing. Only about four, already his male ego seemed to be intact. He straightened out his arm and shook out his hand.
The young mother breathed a sigh of relief and sent Chase a grateful look. “What do you say to the nice man, Toby?”
He broke into a big grin. “That was awesome.”
Chase grunted. “Right.”
“Really, thank you.” The mother struggled to her feet, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the skateboarding teenager who’d barely managed to avoid a tree. “That kid is going to hurt somebody.”
Chase made an attempt to get up, but sat back down again. His hand went to his ribs, and the strain in his face said it all. Dana walked over and offered him her hand. He took it, and she helped pull him to his feet.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“You really are hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Thanks, mister.” Dusting the seat of his jeans, Toby tilted his head back and grinned at Chase.
“You’re welcome. I hope your truck is okay.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “My truck.” He scampered off in search of his toy, his mother close behind him.
Dana really wanted to ask more about Chase’s injury. He probably shouldn’t be running. “Wow, faster than a speeding bullet.”
His laugh was wry. “Not exactly.”
“I didn’t even see that skateboarder. He came out of no-where. You have great reflexes.” They were close to a gazebo and she steered him in that direction. “You must have played football in school.”
“Me? A jock? I don’t think so.”
She chuckled. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“I rode in a few rodeos in my time, but sports…” He scoffed.
“Over here,” she said when he veered toward the path. “Let’s go sit for a while.”
“Why?”
“Because I can tell your side is hurting.”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
She didn’t believe him. He looked pale, but she wasn’t about to argue. “Want to just walk then?”
He led her back onto the path and resumed a brisk pace. “I want you to have dinner with me tonight.”
She looked sharply at him. “I can’t.”
“Won’t or can’t?”
“Both.”
He smiled. “Why not?”
“I don’t date clients.”
“It’s only dinner. I hate eating by myself.”
“It’s really not a good idea.”
“Why?”
Dana took a deep breath. She’d have to be out of her mind to agree, especially now that his stay here was extended. She’d broken her rule once, and the lapse in judgment had ended up breaking her heart. The jerk had turned out to be married. With three kids. Although Bradford was from Chicago, his business brought him to New York often and he’d wooed her for months before she’d given in.
He’d been romantic, sending her flowers, writing her silly charming notes, saying all the right things. They’d had dinner, gone up to his room, had sex. The next morning his wife had surprised them both. It was their tenth wedding anniversary. The look of pain and horror on the betrayed woman’s face had stayed with Dana for the past two years. So had the shame. It hadn’t mattered that she hadn’t known he was married. And that was no way near the worst of it for her since coming to New York.
“Consider it a business dinner,” Chase said, when she’d let silence stretch. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to talk you into getting back into singing professionally.”
“Not me,” she said quickly. “I have enough on my plate.”
“You never know what kind of opportunities could arise.”
Damn him. He’d piqued her curiosity. Not for herself, but for Kelly. Maybe if Dana made nice she could introduce her friend to Chase. “Where did you want to eat?”
“Name it.”
“Not at the hotel.”
“Fine. You tell me.”
She swallowed, her thoughts moving so fast she could barely think straight. She could tell herself all she wanted that she was doing this for her friend, but that was a lie. After thinking she was immune to temptation when it came to show business, he’d snagged her like a hog-tied calf at the county fair.
“FOR GOD’S SAKE, Roscoe, I’ve only been here for two days. No, I haven’t found the ring yet.” Chase held the phone away from his ear for a second and checked his reflection in the mirror. His hair was too long and his shirt collar wasn’t pressed right. It kind of curled up at the tip and touched his blazer. Too late to do anything about it. He had to meet Dana for dinner in half an hour.
“You talk to the police?” Easy to picture Roscoe’s ruddy face, shock of white hair and more eyebrows than three people put together. He’d made a lot of money pumping oil out of his forty-thousand acre spread, and he never let anyone forget it.
“Not yet.”
“What am I paying you for, boy?”
“Expertise.” If he didn’t have a hefty car payment he wouldn’t have considered taking on the private detective work. Chase checked his fly. All was well in that department. “Don’t go telling me how to investigate this case, Roscoe. You don’t want to get me riled.”
“See here, that’s the problem. It’s just a case to you. You don’t find that ring, it’s gonna be my neck on Mary Lou’s choppin’ block.”
He knew Roscoe’s wife, and the man wasn’t exaggerating. Of course that sweet young thing probably couldn’t even boil water or find the kitchen, but Chase got the man’s drift. “I don’t want to talk to the locals until I get my own feel for what’s going on. Tomorrow I’ll meet with security.” Chase went to the window, pushed aside the drapes and eyed the mounting traffic. Good thing Dana had chosen a restaurant that was only a five-minute walk from the hotel. “You know it might help if you tell me why you brought that ring here with you in the first place.”
Roscoe muttered something profane. “I already told you it ain’t relevant.”
Chase wasn’t so sure, but no use arguing. The only thing Roscoe had told him was that he’d come to New York for two days to meet with his stockbroker and find something nice for Mary Lou’s birthday. It made no sense that he had the heirloom ring with him, but he wouldn’t explain. Just acted real odd every time Chase questioned him about his trip.
“One more thing, Roscoe. You having an affair?”
“Go to hell.” Roscoe slammed the phone down hard.
Chase flipped his cell phone shut and rubbed his assaulted ear. This case was beginning to stink worse than a pigsty. Roscoe didn’t want anyone else to know about the theft, not Mary Lou, not even his insurance company. Yes, the police here in Manhattan had been given a statement, and Roscoe had painstakingly compiled a pretty good list of potential suspects for Chase to look into.
Roscoe wasn’t exactly the detailed type, yet he’d included the names of every room-service waiter who had been on duty, every maid, every bellman. Because she’d had a client staying at the St. Martine the day Roscoe had arrived, even Dana’s name had made the list. The guy had done some heavyduty homework. Made Chase suspicious. If that son of a gun knew who took the ring and wasn’t fessing up, he’d have more to worry about than a chopping block.
Although Chase shouldn’t complain. He was getting paid well, by the day, plus expenses, so if it meant that the less Roscoe told him the longer it took to find the ring, that wasn’t such a bad thing. Except, there were two problems with that. One, Chase had known Roscoe for twenty years and the guy normally couldn’t keep his mouth shut about anything. Now all of a sudden you needed a crowbar to get him to open up.
Second, as nice as it was shacking up in a fancy hotel and having play dates with a beautiful woman, Chase had to get back to Dallas by the end of the week to meet with IAD again. His gaze automatically went to the screen on his cell phone. Buddy hadn’t called back yet. They’d traded three calls since yesterday afternoon. It was probably nothing or his ex-partner would’ve been more persistent.
