Kent drove away rapidly, desperately hoping that Phae would be awake so he could share what he’d seen. And James. He’d have to tell James tomorrow. The sheriff would be thrilled to get a description of the man, even if that description was basic at best.
Kent recalled what he’d seen to burn it into his memory.
The man had been average to shorter than average in height. He wore a black stocking cap with some kind of strap around it. His long-sleeved shirt and pants were also black. He was thin and had leapt with panther-like agility. Kent had been unable to make out his face.
Kent turned into the alley that ran behind Phae’s shop, knowing her apartment was in the rear of the building.
He drove past slowly. All was dark, her lights off. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to tell his story. The little black dress would have to wait as well.
He was half-amused to find himself disappointed. And he liked that Phae was the first person he wanted to tell. He pulled out of the alley and headed toward his aunt’s house.
Captain Nice Guy. He’d spotted him. The brief scene of the man’s leap replayed itself over and over in his mind.
He’d nearly reached his aunt’s house when he sensed that something he’d seen wasn’t quite right. The more he thought about it, the more the leaping man seemed familiar.
Something in the picture jogged his memory, but he didn’t know what it was.
He pulled into Miss Eugenia’s driveway and was pleased to see that she’d left the porch light on for him. Kent had called her from San Diego to tell her that he’d be getting back late and she’d been so excited about his return that he felt guilty for not visiting more often.
He turned off the car and sat quietly. Captain Nice Guy. Something familiar. What could it be?
He closed his eyes and froze the mental image of the leaping man. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Black cap. Thin.
Very long legs, especially for a man.
The pants had stretched taut across his butt as he jumped—Kent inhaled sharply and his eyes flew open.
It couldn’t be.
He shook his head. He had to be wrong. The idea was ridiculous. And yet, hadn’t he kept his mind open to the possibility that Captain Nice Guy might be a woman?
Yes, a woman. Any woman other than Phae Jones. Not her.
Think logically, he told himself. What were the facts?
There truly weren’t any facts other than a lusciously rounded ass. Did men’s asses look like that? He didn’t know; he’d never looked.
He recalled his encounter with the do-gooder in Miss Eugenia’s garden. There was a floral scent surrounding his attacker when Kent was tied up. At the time, he thought it must be from the flowers in the garden.
Phae wore a floral perfume at the fair. Were the two scents the same? He couldn’t be certain. His memory of the events on that embarrassing night in his aunt’s back yard was clouded by being nearly unconscious at the time.
What had the captain said to him? “Hey you.” No, that wasn’t it. “Hey buddy.” That was it. Buddy.
Phae had called him buddy numerous times. He’d noticed because she’d called both him and James buddy when she was getting angry. It was a common word, though. Circumstantial evidence at best.
In fact, all the evidence Kent could muster against Phae hardly stood a chance of being considered circumstantial.
He flashed on an image of Phae gracefully shooting the basketball at the fair and on her fluidly jogging out of Miss Eugenia’s garden the first day he met her.
They’d been talking about Captain Nice Guy. Kent had said he might be a woman. Phae had raced away like her fine ass was on fire.
Kent reached for the keys still hanging in the ignition.
KENT TURNED OFF HIS HEADLIGHTS when he pulled into the alley behind Phae’s shop. He drove slowly in the moonlight and switched off the motor before getting too close to her driveway. He coasted to a halt.
Kent thought the vein in his forehead might pop wide open when he saw Phae’s lights were on.
He warned himself to remain calm and not condemn her out of hand. She could be awake for any number of reasons. He picked up the present sitting on the passenger’s seat.
He walked up to her place and knocked gently. He heard feet crossing the floor.
“Who is it” Phae called through the door.
He tried to sound casual. “It’s Kent. Can I come in?”
“Kent?” She sounded surprised. The porch light came on. “Wait a sec. I need to get some clothes on.”
He heard her running away. While he waited, he stepped back a few yards and surveyed the building.
It only had one story and wasn’t particularly wide, though it was deep, with the shop in front and the apartment in back. The apartment had to be small. He disliked the idea of her living there; she deserved to live in a palace, not in a cubby hole in a building that, at best, could be considered past its prime.
But the paint was in good shape and the tiny yard was well-kept. Certainly the store front on the other side was in good repair and looked as nice as the rest of the businesses on the quaint street. He would have expected nothing less from Phae.
He frowned. She certainly was taking her time. Surely all she needed to do was throw on a robe … unless she had on her Captain Nice Guy gear.
If Phae were guilty, she probably wouldn’t have had enough time to return home and change clothes in the ten minutes or so since he’d seen her, or since he’d seen someone he hoped wasn’t her.
He waited impatiently. The minutes seemed interminably long. Finally, he heard her approaching. She opened the door.
Phae barely glanced at Kent as she motioned for him to enter. “Sorry it took so long. Come on in.”
When Kent saw her standing there in a long terrycloth robe, he felt certain his suspicions had been correct. “Thanks.”
He glanced around the minuscule living room. An empty doorway opened onto a darkened hallway on the left and another empty doorway on the right side of the facing wall opened onto a small kitchen.
Only a few pieces of furniture filled the living room. An old, lumpy-looking sofa stretched the length of one wall and an easy chair with faded brown upholstery sat beside the door. No pictures hung on the walls. In fact, the decor could best be described as extremely sparse.
The top of the coffee table was empty, marred by numerous scratches in the finish. A circular rag rug covered the center of the slightly warped wooden floor. Everything was old but scrupulously clean.
The only object of beauty in the room was a magnificent mahogany china cabinet that graced the wall to his right, so tall it nearly touched the ceiling. The beveled glass in the doors and the brass hardware shined defiantly in the dreary room. The piece was obviously a valuable antique. Its glistening wooden shelves were as barren as the beat-up coffee table.
Phae had been living here for how long … three years? And the room looked as if she’d just moved in and hadn’t yet finished unpacking. Kent’s stomach clenched.
Phae gestured toward the china cabinet. “Grandma Jones left it to me.”
Kent nodded.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do,” she said, staring forthrightly into his eyes. “You’re thinking that I’m a poor pitiful woman who doesn’t have enough money to decorate her home. You’re thinking that life must be hard for me, living like this.”
Kent was uncomfortable under her gaze. “Not exactly.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I have money. Grandma Jones saw to that and I make a decent living from my business. I prefer to keep things simple.”
“I think you’ve taken simple to a whole other level.”
Phae sat down in the brown chair, demurely holding her robe closed over her knees. “You sound like everybody else who has ever been here. I’m used to it. Sit down if you want. The sofa hasn’t bitten anyone in a long time.”
Kent sat down
and was surprised to find it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it looked.
“Is the rest of your apartment this … spare?” he asked.
“Pretty much. Except the extra bedroom. That’s where I’ve got my exercise equipment.”
“I find it hard to believe this place is big enough to have two bedrooms.”
“Don’t push it, Kent. Forget about my house and tell me why you’re here. It’s almost three a.m.”
He didn’t want to make her angry, so he dropped the subject of her odd apartment. “I drove in from the airport and thought I’d swing by your place on the chance that you’d still be awake. And you were. I’m surprised.”
Phae covered her mouth, coughed lightly then said, “I’d gotten up to get a snack.”
Kent thought she looked uneasy and too alert to have recently awakened. “Lucky for me.” He set the wrapped present on the coffee table. “I wanted to give you this.”
“You might have given it to me at a more decent hour,” she said while reaching for the gift.
The way her beautiful brown eyes sparkled told him she was pleased, which in turn, pleased him. “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”