скачать книгу бесплатно
“Or maybe he’d rather you wore it for him.”
“You’re not going to be nice and let me delude myself for a few hours, are you?”
Instead of answering, he looked around the room. “You painted.”
“Julie and I did.”
“It’s called coconut cream,” Julie told him. “We thought it was more soothing than the scary harvest gold that came with the place and Mel let you keep because you apparently grew up in a time-warp bungalow with parents who still aren’t aware that several decades have passed since the mid-seventies.”
“She means the walls looked dated.” Meliana stopped an excited Shannon from hopping onto the bed. “That’s a white-on-white quilt, handmade by Johnny’s grandmother, Shan. You didn’t have to come all the way to Chicago, Johnny. I’m having the security code changed tomorrow. And I have a dog here most of the time.”
His frown deepened. “Where is Lokie?”
“Visiting my cousin in Joliet.”
He made a disgusted sound. “The kids’ll rip her ears off.”
“If they do, I’ll kick Joey’s butt from here to Honolulu. She’ll be fine. I taught her how and when to bite.”
Julie chuckled. Then she sobered and craned her neck. “Damn. Blackburn’s coming back.”
“With his sidekick Dick?” Meliana teased.
“Dirk.”
“Trying to lighten the mood here, Jules.” Climbing to her feet, she ran her fingers through Johnny’s rumpled hair. “You look like you lost the battle with a wind machine.” When his eyes—rather stunning eyes, she acknowledged—narrowed, she let her hand fall. “I don’t think I mentioned this, and I’m not sure if it’s relevant or not, but white’s my favorite color.”
“Yes, we know that,” Johnny said.
“Lokie’s a Samoyed, also white. I found her tied up on the front porch right after you moved to Blue Lake six months ago. The vet figured she was maybe five months old.”
“I thought you said she was a gift.”
“She was. There was a ribbon around her neck with a card attached to it. It said: ‘A beautiful puppy for a beautiful woman. She’s called Lokelani.’ I thought the Raymonds left her for me when they moved. There were always new dogs popping up over there. But then the roses started coming, and I started to wonder.”
“You think the rose guy gave you a dog?”
She regarded them both, her husband the FBI agent and her friend the cop. “White dog, white rose.” She drew a deep breath. “The white dog already had a name and, FYI, Lokelani just happens to be Hawaiian for ‘heavenly rose.’”
Chapter Two
They had a brief and mildly unpleasant run-in with Chris in the downstairs hallway. Johnny and Chris had been friends of a sort once. Then Johnny had gone undercover for two years and a great many things had changed.
“He was hitting on you at our wedding,” Johnny said as he helped Meliana into his SUV. “And he jumped on the first town house that came up for sale in our complex after we moved in.”
“He likes vaulted ceilings.”
“He likes you.”
“I like him back. But like isn’t love, and I’ve told him that at least a dozen times.”
“Chris Blackburn has the ability to be selectively blind and deaf when it suits his purpose.”
Meliana grinned. “Unlike another person in this vehicle, right? Will Shannon be okay while we’re gone?”
“I gave her food, water and a big plate of soda crackers.”
“You’re corrupting her, Johnny.” Propping her foot up, she retied the lace of her sneaker. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“Where, yes. Why, no. Charlie Lightfoot’s a nutcase.”
“Wrong. In actual fact, he solves nutcases.”
“By picking up psychic vibes from objects, then translating them into emotions and, occasionally, physical traits.”
“Hey, it’s highly unlikely the cops will get anywhere with this. There were no prints and no help forthcoming from Mrs. Feldman or anyone else. I want to know who stole my lingerie and why, beyond the obvious, the color white seems to be significant. I know.” She cut off his protest. “White denotes purity, innocence, virtue.”
“Virginity.”
“Uh-huh, well, he missed the boat on that one years ago. And I was never pure, innocent or especially virtuous.”
“You were a navy brat.”
“Base life had its moments, Grand. My mom made captain before she turned thirty-five. I thought it was pretty cool growing up with a parent who flew jets and got to order a lot of other people around.”
“You’re a chip off the old navy block, Mel.”
“Did you know she’s a commander now?”
“Does she know you’re a top-notch surgeon?”
“A noble and worthy profession, but not the one she wanted for me. Unfortunately, I’m not as fond of flying or of the navy as my mother is.”
“How’s your nui kaikunane, Maleko?”
“Very good,” she congratulated. “My big brother Mark’s fine. He’s doing some kind of undercover work in Honolulu. Last time I saw him he looked like a cross between a Gypsy and a pirate. Big gold earring, long hair, slick clothes.”
“Is your mom okay with that?”
“She wasn’t especially happy when he left the navy after only four years, but he’s a great cop.”
“He has the right instincts. My division leader says any time Mark wants a job, it’s there for him.”
“He’d appreciate that. Turn left here.”
“I remember where Lightfoot lives, Mel. My brain didn’t burn out totally on that assignment.”
But more damage had been done than could be easily repaired, Meliana thought with a pang. She changed the subject. “Charlie’s become a fixture on the South Side scene. He broke up with a woman last year because she wanted him to move away from there. He loves his apartment.”
“And his Deadhead music and his incense. He tried to analyze Mark’s captain’s dreams at our wedding, Mel. He’s lucky the guy was so drunk he didn’t give a damn.”
“You’re such a stickler. Charlie’s brilliant. Okay, maybe he did a few too many psychedelic drugs in the early seventies, but you like harvest gold and avocado green.”
“I grew up with them.”
“I grew up with a father who embezzled money from a pineapple factory, but I manage to keep my fingers out of the hospital funding pot. Honest to God, Johnny, you’re so by-the-book in some ways and so fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants in others. It’s like there’s two people living inside your head.”
“One head, Mel, two sides to my brain.” He turned on the radio.
Meliana studied her husband’s profile. He was gorgeous, always had been, through good times and bad. His hair, somewhere between brown and dark blond, was unkempt and far too long to be considered FBI standard. He had an incredible face, all lines, planes and angles, a devastating mouth and eyes the color of smoked charcoal. Friends used to tease them that if their kids didn’t have some form of gray eyes, it would be absolute proof that Meliana had been unfaithful.
Never could have happened, she reflected on a wistful note. She’d loved Johnny Grand with everything she had inside her—and that had been a considerable amount. Johnny said Chris had been hitting on her at their wedding. She believed him, but hadn’t noticed. She still didn’t, even in retrospect. All she remembered about that day was being deliriously happy and grateful that her father, on parole after having served six years of his ten-year sentence, had been permitted to attend.
“Summer’s heading south,” Johnny commented over the rain and music. “There was a bite in the air at Blue Lake, and a lot of the birds are gone.”
She continued to study him. “Do you get bored up there?”
“Sometimes. Then I remind myself that being there’s essential to my mental rehab, and I replace a shingle or two.”
“Does it work?”
“As rehab?” He moved a shoulder. “You tell me. Do I seem less stressed than before?”
“At the moment, yes. But not when you flew into the bedroom earlier. I’m not going to get paranoid about what happened, Johnny. I’ll talk to Charlie, get Lokie back, change my alarm code and leave the rest to Julie.”
“What about the card that came on Lokie’s collar?”
“I have it somewhere. I’ll dig it out. Turn here.”
She indicated a narrow street that read more like a downtown alley. Rusty fire-escape ladders hung from dilapidated brick and concrete buildings. Many of the windows were blacked out and the darkness and rain only reinforced the sinister atmosphere.
“It’s great here,” Meliana remarked. “Like Al Capone meets West Side Story.”
“In Dracula’s dungeon.”
“This is an old part of the city. You should see Los Angeles after sunset.”
“I have.”
And New York and Miami and Cartagena and Mexico City. “I’ll call ahead.” She punched her colleague’s number on her cell. “Heads up, Lightfoot,” she warned. “We’re here.” She slid her gaze to Johnny. “Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him.”
Johnny stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to know.”
“He says for you not to use the bathroom, and no matter how suspicious the tea smells, it’s only a Chinese herb blend.”
“You believe that?”
“I’m due in the O.R. at 11:00 a.m. I need to believe.”
Johnny, who’d had more than a few strange conversations with Charlie Lightfoot since the separation, cast dubious eyes over the ravaged balcony railings. “Babe, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“THIS IS PRETTY.” Charlie held Meliana’s black slip up by the straps and grinned like a fool. “Where’d you get it?”
“New York City.” Meliana sat cross-legged on his sofa—at least, Johnny assumed there was a sofa under the massive Native American blanket. “Do you feel anything, Charlie?” Her eyes sparkled. “Other than hot and bothered?”
“That’s top of the list, Mel.” He ran a ringed hand over the silky fabric. “I see you at a swanky cocktail party. Nope, sorry, wedding reception.”
Johnny frowned. “Who got married?”
“One of the surgical nurses, last July. That slip’s been washed half a dozen times since then. How long do vibes linger?”
Charlie drank his tea laced with God knew what and winked at them. “Depends on the strength of the memory. Did you have fun?”
“No.”
“Ah, well, bad’s as weighty as good.” Eyes closed, he fingered the lace trim. “Relax, Johnny,” he advised. “This isn’t black magic. It’s just a little tap I sometimes have into a part of the brain most of us don’t use.”
What could he say to that? Johnny watched Meliana sip her tea while she in turn watched Charlie psychoanalyze her slip.
To be truthful, he didn’t dislike Charlie Lightfoot. He just felt a little edgy around the guy. But then, he felt edgy around most people these days. Thus his requested leave from active duty and a solo retreat to Blue Lake.
Charlie pressed three fingers to the headband he habitually wore. If he started humming, Johnny thought he’d have to leave the room. He might have to get out anyway. The air in the cramped apartment was ripe with the smells of simmering herbs, strawberry incense and two grizzled old terriers.
Charlie sat barefoot on a faded Persian carpet, across from Meliana. He wore a cotton T-shirt with a peace symbol on the chest, worn jeans and three earrings in his left lobe. His hair was as long as Johnny’s, although there wasn’t quite as much of it, and it was much darker—almost the same color as Meliana’s, in fact.
Different heritage, though. Johnny drank the beer Charlie had given him and slid his gaze to his wife. Charlie Lightfoot was half Blackfoot, half French. Meliana was one quarter Hawaiian on her mother’s side and 100 percent drop-dead gorgeous. Johnny had fantasized about her hair while he’d been undercover. It was very nearly black, extremely thick and just the slightest bit wavy. It skimmed her collarbone these days, though when he’d met her five and half years ago it had actually been several inches longer.
“Calhoun,” Charlie said clearly.
“That was the groom’s name.” Reaching out, Meliana gave the slip a tug. “Forget weddings.”
“Maybe you need to be in it for the vibe thing to work,” Johnny suggested.
“Always a possibility.” Charlie stared unblinking at the fabric. Johnny had no idea how he did it. His head was throbbing, and his eyes stung from the herbs and incense. And Jethro Tull on scratchy vinyl in the background wasn’t helping.
He massaged his temples. “Do you need the rose?”
“Could be.” Charlie bunched the slip and breathed in. “Sounds lunatic, I know, but this really does work sometimes. Tell me about the other roses, Mel.”
Johnny moved his lips into a smile. “Yes, tell both of us.”
She set her cup aside. “They appeared in different places each time. I found the first one four weeks ago on the driver’s seat of my car. The second showed up ten days later on my desk at the hospital. The third was in my locker, which wasn’t locked—yes, I know, Johnny, not smart—and the fourth found its way into my lab coat pocket. He must have slipped it to me while I was making my rounds. It could happen,” she said with a shrug. “You bump into people all the time in hospital corridors.”
“Nurses, orderlies, patients?” Charlie assumed.
“Other doctors, maintenance workers, visitors.” Meliana sighed. “Sorry. Unless I’m in the O.R., I interact with a lot of people on a daily basis.”
“No surprise there. Hey, can we put this on hold for a few minutes? I need the bathroom, and mine’s out of commission. Lucky for me, I’ve got an obliging neighbor downstairs.”