Ink Flamingos

Chapter 32

“It’s red paint, Brett,” Tim said, but it was cold comfort. Moving out had totally seemed like a great idea, but now the thought of living alone scared the daylights out of me.

“Who would do this?” I asked, staring at the flamingo, which wore a rhinestone tiara. That looked familiar. “Those kids. At the arena. They had one of those, with a tiara on it,” I whispered.

Tim’s head was bobbing up and down. “Okay, good, that’s good to know. We got their names and statements about what happened over there, so maybe we can track this down.”

Hated to play devil’s advocate here, but it struck me: “What if the one who did this left? Left before giving a statement?”

For a split second, I saw something cross his face that indicated he’d had the same thought, but then his expression shifted into neutral.

“We’ll get him,” he said simply as he put his phone to his ear and went back to the living room.

I couldn’t stop looking at it. But I couldn’t go any farther than the doorway. No way was I going in there. Not even to make sure it was red paint and not blood. And not only because the cops would be coming in here to dust for prints and do all that stuff cops do when investigating a crime scene.

Tim reappeared at my side and I jumped.

“Sorry,” he said. “How about calling Bitsy and seeing if you can crash over there tonight?”

Best idea he’d had in ages. “Don’t you need me to make a statement or something?”

He shook his head. “No. I think you’d better go somewhere safe.”

His tone made me take pause. Somewhere safe? As though I wasn’t safe here, in my own house? He was back on the phone now, disappearing again. It was like a bad magic trick.

I took a deep breath and pulled my bag around my shoulder, where it still hung. I stuck my hand in, finding my phone and flipping it open.

“What’s wrong?” Bitsy sounded like she was wide awake, thank goodness. I hadn’t wanted to wake her.

I told her what happened. “Tim wondered if you couldn’t put me up for the night,” I said.

“No problem, no problem. Are you coming now?”

I realized I didn’t want to drive. I didn’t want to get in my car and drive over there. Because whoever had done this could follow me, like that person who posted those pictures on the blog had followed me.

“Yes, as soon as I can,” I said, figuring I’d ask Tim if he could get me a police escort. I hung up and found him putting his phone on the table in the kitchen. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance.

“My ride?” I asked, trying to joke, but not really succeeding.

He came over and put his arm around me, pulling me to him and hugging me tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We’ll get him, whoever he is.”

I knew he would. This was his house, too, which meant even though I was the one with the red paint on my bed, this was personal for him, too.

“Coleman’s coming to bring you to Bitsy’s,” he said when he pulled away. “I would take you, but I need to be here.”

Jeff? “But he went home,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tim said. “He’s glad to do it.”

I settled into the Pontiac and strapped the seat belt around me. Jeff hadn’t said much, even though Tim showed him the mess in my bedroom. I watched his profile as he pulled out of the driveway.

“You’ll have to tell me where she lives,” he said.

Bitsy’s condo was down past the university. I gave him the address, and we drove in silence. I tried not to think about what was going on, but it was swirling in my head, threatening to turn me into a crazy person.

“You’re not okay, are you?” Jeff asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head. “Not really.” I had another thought. “How did he know where I live?” My heart started to beat faster.

Jeff was watching me out of the corner of his eye as he drove. “You should take a few days off. Maybe get out of town.”

I didn’t want to run away. I didn’t want to abandon my business to my employees who pulled more than their own weight. I couldn’t look like a coward. Even though it was an incredibly appealing idea at the moment.

I heard him chuckle. “I guess that would be too much to ask of you,” he said, reading my mind.

I didn’t really want to talk anymore. I wanted to get to Bitsy’s and see if I could sleep a little.

Once we got there, Joel was hovering in the doorway to welcome me. He pulled me into a big bear hug before I could even say hello. When he finally stepped back, he grinned. “We’re going to have a sleepover.”

I appreciated the thought. That my friends were here for me. But it wouldn’t make everything go away.

Jeff dropped the small overnight bag that Tim had packed for me on the floor. Bitsy picked it up and disappeared down the hall. Joel looked from me to Jeff, then mumbled something about a glass of wine and went toward the kitchen. Jeff and I stood, facing each other, that weird awkwardness back.

“You’re in good hands,” Jeff said.

Why was everyone treating me like I was some sort of china objet d’art that would crash to the ground and break into tiny pieces?

Oh, right. Because that’s the way I felt.

I took a deep breath and tried a smile on for size. I’m not sure it worked, because Jeff took a step closer, his expression unreadable. I wanted him to crack a joke, call me by my last name, tell me to stop being so serious all the time.

Anything except what he did next.

He kissed me. Right there. Right in Bitsy’s hallway.

His lips were warm and soft and nothing like I ever would’ve imagined, if I’d ever imagined something like this happening. I closed my eyes and felt his hands settle gently around my waist, pulling me closer.

I let him.

I kissed him back.

I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it was the surprise of it all. Maybe it was because it felt good. Because he made me feel safe.

Slowly the kiss changed; it became a little more urgent, more passionate, and I felt myself slipping away, losing myself in it.

When he finally pulled away, I couldn’t catch my breath. But in a really good way. I opened my eyes, almost surprised to see it had been Jeff Coleman who’d made me feel that kiss in all the right places, all the way to my toes. He stepped away, the familiar grin back. “See ya, Kavanaugh,” he said jovially, as if that kiss had never happened. As if it was somehow all mixed up in my head with the flamingo with the tiara on it, two things that were just too weird to even be based in reality.

And then he went through the door and was gone.

I stood there for a few minutes, not quite sure what to think.

Bitsy, however, was not at such a loss.

“It’s about time,” she said flatly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “Come on. Joel’s got the wine poured.”

If I hadn’t been a total mess before that kiss, now I really was. Because I couldn’t make sense out of it. I allowed myself to be led into the living room and given a glass of red wine. I hardly tasted it.

Bitsy noticed.

“Don’t get nuts about this, Brett,” she said. “I mean, we’ve all known for a long time how you two felt about each other.”

I finally found my voice. “But how do we feel? I mean, we’re friends. This isn’t right. Why did he do that?”

“Because the man’s been in love with you since the get-go, that’s why,” Joel spoke up. “You’ve just been too stupid to notice.”

Stupid. Yes, because I still didn’t buy it. “He just wanted to distract me,” I tried. “From everything that’s been going on.” I remembered how he’d said he wouldn’t have sat around and let a woman he was interested in go out with other men. This was a ruse. It had to be.

Bitsy’s phone rang, and she picked up the handset off the coffee table. “Hello? Oh, hi, Tim.” She listened for a few minutes, then put the phone down and reached for a laptop on the side table.

“What’s up?” Joel asked, replenishing everyone’s wine.

She shook her head and pointed to the screen. It was Ink Flamingos again. I looked away. I didn’t want to see anything else.

Joel caught his breath, and curiosity took over. I leaned in and took a peek.

Another picture. This time it was of the flamingo on my bed.