CHAPTER NINE

We retrieved Carl from Diesel’s apartment, got takeout pizza in Marblehead, and brought it back to my house. Diesel hung sheets and towels over my kitchen windows so no one could look in, and we propped the painting up against a wall.

“It’s nice,” Diesel said, working his way through a piece of pepperoni with extra cheese, “but it’s just branches and flowers to me. I’m not seeing any clues.”

“Reedy thought you had to believe in true love to see the clue.”

Diesel took another piece of pizza. “I’ve gotta be honest with you. I don’t even know what true love means. If it wasn’t for John Lovey living in the nineteenth century, I’d think the whole true-love thing was invented by Disney.”

I’d been staring at the painting for a half hour and I didn’t see any clues, either. I looked at it up close, and I looked at it far away. I looked at it with one eye closed. I examined the back. Nothing. But when I touched it, I felt the energy.

“Do you see a clue?” Diesel asked me.

“No.”

“Hunh,” Diesel said.

“What’s hunh supposed to mean?”

“Looks to me like I’m not the only one who’s cynical about true love.”

I sunk my teeth into a piece of pizza. “I’m starting to think John Lovey was a nut.”

Diesel gave a bark of laughter and took a long pull from his bottle of beer.

“Eeh?” Carl asked, pointing to the pizza box.

Diesel gave him a second piece and cut a slice off for Cat.

“Do you want me to help read through the papers you took off Reedy’s desk?” I asked Diesel.

“No, but thanks. I left them in my apartment. I’m going to spend the night here watching the game and guarding your body.”

“How much of the night are you talking about?”

“The whole night. All of it. And then some.”

This was a real dilemma. I didn’t want another Wulf encounter in the middle of the night, but I also didn’t want a Diesel episode in the middle of the night.

“The whole night might not be a good idea,” I said. “It’s, you know, awkward.”

That got another smile. “Afraid you can’t keep your hands off me?”

“It’s not my hands I’m worried about.”

“Better my hands than Wulf’s hands,” Diesel said.

“That’s true, but it wasn’t the answer I was hoping to hear.”

The game was in overtime when I went to bed. I brushed my teeth and went with the least seductive outfit I could find… a lightweight T-shirt and black Pilates pants. I crawled into bed, and Cat took his position at my feet. I shut the light off, and heard Diesel on the stairs.

“Bruins won,” he said, coming into the bedroom, carting the Van Gogh with him.

“What’s with the picture?”

“I didn’t want to leave it downstairs where it could get snatched.”

“You could have slept downstairs with it.”

“I don’t fit on the couch.”

“You don’t fit here, either.”

“True. But I fit better.”

Carl looked over the edge of the bed. “Eep?”

Cat rotated his head and looked slitty-eyed at Carl. Cat wasn’t big on sharing his bed with a monkey. Probably, he wasn’t crazy about sharing it with Diesel, either.

Carl inched his way around the bed to the point where he was farthest away from Cat, carefully climbed onto the bed, and sat hunched, trying to make himself small.

“Does Carl sleep with you when you’re home?” I asked Diesel.

Diesel stripped his T-shirt over his head and kicked his shoes off. “No. He has his own bedroom. You only have one bedroom, so he doesn’t know where to sleep.”

“Like you.”

“Honey, I know exactly where to sleep.”

His jeans hit the floor, and I told myself to look away, but I couldn’t force myself to do it. Diesel naked was a masterpiece of male perfection. I was tempted to turn the light back on, but I was afraid that would be too obvious. He dropped his boxers and slipped under the covers next to me.

“This thing that happens when two people with special abilities get together. You want to explain that to me again?” I said to him.

“One of them loses all their special abilities. No way of knowing ahead which one will be the loser.”

“And just exactly what is it that triggers this power outage? I mean, does there have to be penetration? Does there have to be an exchange of body fluids?”

“Exchange of body fluids is a given, beyond that it’s a gray area.”

“How about contraception? A condom would contain body fluids. What then?”

I could feel Diesel smile. “You want me bad.”

“I do not! That’s ridiculous. I’m just asking.”

He slid his arm around me and nuzzled my neck. He was warm, and he smelled great, and I liked the way he felt pressed against me.

“How about we just fool around a little,” he said.

“Is that allowed?”

“Probably.”

“Is that probably like the I probably can defuse the alarm system?”

“Yeah, it might be similar.”

I heard rustling in the dark room and realized Carl was creeping across the bed, trying to get closer to Diesel and me, trying to find a place to sleep. At the same time, there was movement at the foot of the bed. Cat was uncurling, slowly stalking Carl.

“Maybe you can find a place for Carl to sleep,” I said to Diesel. “I don’t think Cat likes having a monkey in his bed.”

“They’re fine,” Diesel said. “They’ll figure it out.”

“Yes, but…”

YEOWL .

EEeeeee!

Cat pounced on Carl, and Carl went postal. There was a lot of screeching and hissing and growling and monkey bitch slapping. I dove under the covers, and I felt Diesel roll over me. I peeked out and saw he had Cat and Carl by the scruffs of their necks, holding them both at arm’s length.

I switched the light on, and Diesel marched out of the room, still holding Cat and Carl. Minutes later, Diesel returned to bed and shut the light off.

“Is everything okay?” I asked him.

“I have Carl on the couch in the sleeping bag, and Cat is in his bed in the kitchen.”

“Was anybody bleeding?”

“Not that I could see.” There was a beat of silence. “Now that I’m back in bed, would you like me to demonstrate some of the things we shouldn’t be doing?”

“No!”

Carl and Cat had saved me from doing something stupid. And it had the added bonus of seeing Diesel with the light on. Sweet dreams tonight.

I was snuggled into Diesel when I woke up. He was still asleep, so I carefully eased away from him and shut the alarm off before it rang. Cat had returned to the foot of the bed. No sign of Carl. I grabbed clothes and tiptoed into the bathroom. I showered and dressed, and Cat and I went downstairs.

Four hours later, I was in the bakery kitchen helping Clara make meat pies and Diesel strolled in, carrying the painting wrapped in the bedsheet.

“I need you to babysit this,” Diesel said. “There’s a problem I have to solve, and I don’t want to leave this unguarded in your house.”

“Put it against the far wall and make sure it’s covered. I’m up to my elbows in bread dough and meat filling here.”

“I’ll be back before you leave today,” Diesel said, propping the painting against the wall. “Call me if there’s an issue.”

He went out the back door, closing and locking it behind him.

“What’s under the sheet?” Clara wanted to know.

“A painting. We sort of borrowed a Van Gogh yesterday.”

“A real Van Gogh?”

“Yeah.”

“Borrowed?”

“Yep.”

“Borrowed what?” Glo asked, coming in from the front shop.

“A painting,” Clara said. “It’s under the sheet.”

Glo pulled the sheet away, and we all looked at the painting.

“It looks like wallpaper,” Glo said. “My grammy had wallpaper like this in her bedroom, but it wasn’t 3D.”

“What do you mean 3D?” I asked.

“Well, there’s the branches and flowers, and then in front of them, there’s writing and some bells with numbers and musical notes, and then a man’s name.”

“I don’t see any of that,” Clara said. “You haven’t been smoking mushrooms, have you?”

“No,” Glo said, “but I had some on pizza a couple days ago.”

“What does the writing say?” I asked her.

“‘Hope endures in the reader of this message. Love comes to those who still hope,’” Glo said. “I’d like to think that’s true, because I haven’t had great luck so far in the love department.”

“Yes, but you’re such an optimist,” I told her. “Every time you meet a man, you’re sure he’s going to be your perfect match.”

“What else do you see?” Clara asked. “You said there were bells and a man’s name.”

“Charles Duane.”

“Draw a picture of the bells, so I can see them,” I said to Glo.

“Sure, but they’re just plain old bells that are numbered one through nine.” Glo’s eyes went wide. “This is about saving mankind, isn’t it? I bet this is some kind of clue to finding the Luxuria Stone. And I’m the only one who can read the clue. This is definitely a sign of wizardry. This is so awesome.”

“The clue is only good if you can figure out where it takes you,” Clara said. “Just reading the clue isn’t enough.”

“True,” Glo said. “But I still feel special. And I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

I returned to the meat pies, and Glo sketched the bells on a napkin and went back to tending the shop.

Загрузка...