Between the sheets, p.7
Between the Sheets, page 7
He didn't like having to confront her, but he did it anyway. "So why don't you tell me what's really bothering you. I've felt it all night." He realized he was testing her resolve. Let's see what she's made of.
She put down her fork, a thoughtful look coming over her face. "I won't deny there's something on my mind. But I don't want to get into your business."
"My business?"
"You know—who you are. You have a way with people that I find off-putting. And since we're just neighbors, not that close really, it's not for me to judge."
Rex's heart plummeted. He'd been assuming, apparently falsely, that they were growing closer. Especially since they'd seen more of each other the past few days. He'd made every effort to be on his best behavior, but now something was seriously wrong.
When she resumed picking at her dessert, he knew it was up to him. He had to convince her to tell him his faults. "It's okay. If I've offended you in some way, I want to know. So that I can fix it," he hastily added.
She pushed her plate away, shaking her head in disagreement. "You don't have to fix anything. I'm not in the business of changing you or anyone else. And I'm not offended so much as perplexed."
He gulped. Despite her calm he detected a hint of sadness. She was trying to cover it up, but Rex could feel it, nestled somewhere in her past.
"Please don't be sad!" he said impulsively. "I want to hear. Go on, tell me."
She dabbed at her lips with a napkin. Acting as if she were considering his offer. Rex knew their relationship might depend on how she chose to go forward, so he lowered his eyes as his gut clenched.
"You lie," she flatly stated. "So often. So confidently. I don't always know when you're telling the truth. I feel unsettled with that. In the past I've been lied to and been hurt. I'm too old to go down that road again."
Rex liked to think that no one noticed his slight prevarications. He only used them occasionally—at work of course, and when necessary to make things come out right. That was what he told himself. No one else had complained.
Well, maybe that woman he dated last year. She said he was undependable. Please, she's wasn't exactly a straight arrow when it came down to it. She'd lied about her age. She'd lied about where she grew up. She'd even lied about her three ex-husbands.
That's the way of things. People lie. Sure, he told the occasional fib now and then. But it wasn't a deal-breaker. Not for him.
He felt a pout coming on. A lot of women tried to make him happy when he pouted. It was his go-to move. He was annoyed at Viv. She'd hurt his feelings. No one gets to do that, his inner voice protested.
He pushed his plate forward, thinking, Character assassination. That's what this is. Then he looked at her face, the way she used her forefinger to curl that strand of hair next to her ear. His heart melted. This is hard for her too, he realized.
Instead of standing to make a quick exit, he changed his mind. "Lost my napkin," he mumbled. He pushed his chair back. Head under the table, he admired her shapely ankles. I'll skip the pout, he decided.
He waved his napkin in the air. "Got it," he said.
"That's nice." She'd resumed her overly polite voice.
"Yup." He released a deep sigh, realizing his close call. He'd almost left. Now with his anger pushed aside, he reconsidered.
Viv's not trying to hurt me. What was that word she used? Perplexed.
"I don't lie to hurt people," he explained. "At least not on purpose."
He could see and feel her mind whirl as she considered his words. The familiar tingle made its way up his spine. A sign that he'd managed to shift the awareness field.
Rex was used to women wanting things from him. A good time. An expensive dinner. As they say, a superior boyfriend experience. But Rex wasn't used to someone really caring about what made him tick.
It was rare, this moment of self-reflection. And I thought there was nothing new for a guy like me, especially at my age.
"So help me here," he began, hesitation in his voice. "When did I lie most recently? I need an example." He tentatively smiled. And then he was rewarded with her steady gaze.
"When you told Farrah, ' I need a new place to launder my fancy work shirts.'" She used air quotes. "That seemed unnecessary to me. Why not just say you want to know who killed Carmine Nelson and that your curiosity got the better of you?"
21
VIVIENNE ROSE
Vivienne rinsed the dishes, thinking about the conversation with Rex. He'd been quite open about his reasoning, the part when he lied to Farrah.
"I figured we already told a lie about using the Fluff and Fold for your large comforter. And then one more lie, still about laundry, didn't seem that bad. Plus we are interfering with police work. Since we're not legally private investigators, at least not yet, I knew we didn't belong."
"Private investigators?" Viv said with surprise.
Rex glanced away. Viv suspected that he was searching for the right words. Now self-conscious about lying, he couldn't do what was natural to him. I've managed to put a slight dent into his confidence.
"Okay, about that." He cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about getting a PI license. Actually I had Sutton look into the details. It wouldn't be that hard. I would only need a couple more classes at the community college. Since I have the hours and training from the military, it would be really easy for me. Your licensing might take a little longer. But you can work under my license while you take the necessary classes. Then we'd have every reason to show up at police scenes and not have to make…excuses."
The way he said it, the title even—private investigators—made her head spin. Even later after he left, as she added soap to the dishwasher, she couldn't quite wrap her mind around the idea. Oh sure, he'd alluded to his fascination with Philip Marlowe. But Marlowe was a fictional character.
She closed the door of the dishwasher with a thump. That's okay for him and maybe Sutton. But he keeps saying “we” as if I'm included.
With a mug of hot tea in hand, she made her way down the hall to check on Miss Kitty. She found her cat curled up on a fluffy blanket in the middle of the sofa. Viv sat down next to her. The low rumble of a purr began, followed by a ping from the cell in her pocket.
Thanks for dinner. The company was divine. As was the cheesecake.
He'd put an emoji with an exploding head.
See you tomorrow at the usual time.
She added a gif with two people walking a dog.
Then her eyes flew open. He'd sent the heart emoji, making his feelings known right there in plain sight.
The next morning Viv walked with Rex and Kevin, feeling a bit jittery. Despite her best intentions at keeping him in the friend category, he'd sent that emoji. She never meant to lead him on. But rather than talk about it, she preferred to let him think a heart emoji was an everyday occurrence for her. Why not? Just a cell phone thing.
She picked up her pace, realizing her discomfort. Focusing on her body, the heart and muscles, she pushed away her emotions. "So I've been reflecting about the Fluff and Fold," she told him.
"Me too," he answered immediately. "You go first."
"According to the website, it's open twenty-four seven. But no one was behind the counter. Isn't there usually an attendant; somebody to pick up laundry that's dropped off and who keeps the place clean?"
"It would make sense. I was wondering that too."
Viv's arms began to swing at her sides. She looked past him across the street. Again the woman with the baby carriage walked on the opposite side. The same blanket, draped over the front of the stroller, hid the baby from the bright glare of the early morning sun.
Viv lifted her hand to wave.
The young woman didn't look her way. She kept walking straight ahead.
"She's not that friendly," Rex commented.
"Did you notice anything about the way she's dressed?"
"The sloppy t-shirt and sweatpants? I saw that."
"No, not those. Her shoes."
"Unless women are wearing high heels, I rarely notice their shoes."
"She had on Nikes. Fairly new looking."
"Really?" He sounded interested. "So that's the third sighting this week. Were they the same style?"
"I'm not that into sneakers," Viv admitted. "I don't know if they're the same style. I did see the Nike logo though. Which reminds me, what did you do with the boots and baby oil you found at the Fluff and Fold?"
"I put them back in the bathroom," he said.
"Probably a good idea. They're not ours. Maybe the woman who left them will come back. It could be her only pair of shoes. Have you thought of that?"
He looked at her quizzically. "That never crossed my mind," he admitted.
This time he picked up the pace. Kevin bounded ahead.
Once Viv caught up, he asked, "Will the search for Carmine Nelson continue today?"
"I think so. Why don't we have a sit-down with Sutton this evening? Maybe she's found that address."
He snapped his fingers. "Then the next day we can check out Carmine's house and go back to the Fluff and Fold and look for the behind-the-counter missing employee."
"It might be risky to go right back to the laundry so soon. If Farrah catches us again…" Viv's voice faltered.
Kevin made a quick left turn, breaking into a run. Then he skidded to a halt. They watched him sniff the corner of the grass.
"Officer Farrah showed up unexpectedly, which makes me wonder how she knew we were at the Fluff and Fold," Viv said.
"She may have surveillance or at least CCTV," Rex replied.
"Could be," Viv said.
"I did make quite the spectacle of myself. I hope it's not on some tape being passed around the precinct for laughs." He looked down at his knee. "Feeling pretty good this morning, thanks for asking."
She shrugged. "I'm not going to inquire about every ache and pain. It's not what I do. Push through it is my motto. Just so you know."
"Understood," he said.
The sound of a wail came from across the street. "That baby certainly has a loud cry. I wish she'd pick the child up."
22
REX REDONDO
Sutton Drew entered the dining room. She directed her eyes forward and held her shoulders back. As she made her way to the booth in the far corner, diners at The Roadkill grew quiet.
The men looked her over. Even the women stopped speaking. Rex knew what the men were thinking, but he was unsure about the women. Maybe they're assessing the competition or just envious of her style.
Rex had always admired how Sutton made an entrance. Of course she was tall for a female, nearly six feet without heels. But tonight, even though it was still early, she wore a tight black sheath with her three-inch red stilettos. Her hips swayed provocatively as she navigated the space between tables.
Sutton's walk told it all. She knew who she was. Confident but not overbearing. Okay, maybe it's not just the outfit, Rex thought. It's the way she wears her attitude, like a familiar piece of clothing, no lines or wrinkles.
"Good to see you both," Sutton said, sliding into the seat across from them. "Hey, Viv," she added with a friendly nod.
She's Lauren Bacall tonight, Rex thought. He liked to figure out which movie star Sutton embodied with her choice of attire. Not averse to wigs and colorful clothing, Sutton also dressed to match her mood. Tonight she's looking for some fun, he concluded.
A waiter stared at Sutton, his mouth hanging slightly open. His name tag read Danny and his glance had not moved from her chest. Sutton did not return his admiration. She glanced at her menu instead.
Once they'd ordered, Rex got down to business. "Looks like you have a hot date tonight." He gestured with a finger, moving it up and down to indicate Sutton's outfit.
"Not a date yet. But the night is young." Sutton reached for her water glass.
"We're still on the Carmine Nelson case," he said in a lowered voice. "Wanted to talk to you about any information you might have gathered. We need an address to start with. Where he lived."
"I figured." Sutton put the glass down. "Been kinda busy with other stuff. Dating someone new. She's from Lily Rock. But not in town tonight."
Rex knew that Sutton appreciated both men and women. He'd noticed right away when they first met. By the time he hired her and they'd become roommates, he listened to her relationship woes without judgment. And to be frank, over the years, she, too, had extended him a lot of leeway in that department.
Sometimes it was hard to explain to women about his relationship with Sutton. They didn't like the fact that he had a live-in personal assistant who looked like a Hollywood movie star one minute and a yoga instructor slash marathon runner the next. Too much competition. Plus they didn't trust his intentions.
After the first year Rex had learned not to bring women back to his place. If Sutton happened to be home there was hell to pay. He didn't like the fights that broke out, no matter how entertaining. And no matter how hard he tried, no woman believed there was nothing between them besides an abiding friendship and the paycheck he issued once a month.
Sutton was in charge of their house, his business appointments and calendar, house maintenance, and of course, Kevin. But her main job was to help him with his shows.
The well-kept secret—that she eavesdropped and gathered intel at The Roadkill before each performance—made his act feel authentic. One quick text from Sutton and he had the name of a recently deceased or a soon to be ex.
He was very good at reading people in his audience. But Sutton's research helped fill in the places where his intuition lacked. No one paid to have the showman pause and look insecure. A fact he'd learned the hard way, when early on he'd be stumped by some people and needed to scramble.
"Psychics need tools," he'd say. "Just like every other profession."
But now that he fancied himself as a detective, he wanted Sutton to bring her skill set, internet research especially, to his new job. So he planned on paying her extra to explore the private detective avenue.
After their meal, Rex ordered coffee. "We have a show at nine." He pointed to his Rolex.
"I got ya, boss," Sutton said. "I was here a little earlier. Dressed differently. I could see and hear the entire bar and dining area. Got some good stuff."
Rex turned to Viv. "If you recall, she's honed the art of sussing people out dining before my show. She can tell by how they dress and she eavesdrops on conversations." He didn't bother to hide the pride in his voice. He pointed to his ears. "Special microphones. Very pricey. They pick up everything."
Sutton smirked. "I have my ways. I pay Jake behind the bar to start up conversations about the show, you know, talk up how talented you are." Sutton smirked at Rex. Then she looked up to nod at the bartender. He touched the side of his nose in response.
"I see," Viv said.
Rex felt a moment of discomfort. His good knee began jiggling under the table. She's looking at us like we are red marbles in a box marked blue.
And then he shed his discomfort to admire her instead. Viv looked amazing. Her style was less in-your-face than Sutton’s, with the white linen blouse over white jeans and low-heeled sandals. With the subtle shifting of the blouse's fabric, you could see her curves beneath. He felt proud to be seen with her.
Unlike Sutton, Viv didn't welcome compliments. She'd said that the first time when he'd whistled, "I'm all about the coastal grandma look—Diane Keaton in the Nancy Meyers films. No feedback necessary." Her voice was curt.
He'd never heard of Meyers but he knew Keaton's work. Then it hit him, "Baby Boom, right? Keaton was in that one."
"Good guess," she said. "My favorite movie."
He put that in the back of his mind, knowing he could find the film on pay-per-view as soon as he had a free night.
Rex settled his back into the booth's cushion. It felt good to be seen with two smart and beautiful women. He hoped there wouldn't be any trouble between Viv and Sutton. That might be uncomfortable. Plus this time, he didn't want to choose.
23
VIVIENNE ROSE
Viv tuned out of the shop talk between Rex and Sutton. He expounded on the dos and don'ts of internet surveillance for the entire meal, with Sutton interjecting her opinions. Finally the conversation got back to Carmine.
"Still no address. I think he had a professional wipe his info." Sutton shrugged. "Of course, I can do a deeper dive into other resources that aren't quite legal. Call in a few favors. But that will take some time."
"You mentioned to me that Carmine may be into illegal side hustles," Rex said. "Is that a gut feeling or did you find anything we can use?"
"It is a gut feeling," Sutton admitted. "I'll have to be careful. If there is a trail, it may be in the wrong direction. I don't want to slide down any rabbit holes. Big waste of time."
As Rex and Sutton reminisced about electronic rabbit holes when they were in Afghanistan, Viv planted a small smile on her face, pretending to care. Everything she knew about internet surveillance could be summed up with her one smart phone. She didn't have a big interest in algorithms or deep dives into people's backgrounds.
Finally the check came. "I'm ready to call it a night," Viv said.
"And I've got to get ready for our show," Sutton said to Rex. "See you later."
Sutton stood up from the table. Eyes followed the tall beauty as she exited The Roadkill, until she disappeared from view.
Viv also stood. She kissed Rex chastely on the cheek. "See you tomorrow," she said.
Once in the parking lot Viv climbed behind the steering wheel, exhaling her relief. What with Carmine Nelson's death and seeing Rex every day, she knew her inattentiveness at dinner was a sign. She no longer had the energy to listen with a smile on her face to people's chitchat. She needed some alone time.
