Frankie's Back in Town, page 16
“Wish me luck.”
“You know I do.”
He had to resist the urge to stroke a stray curl from her cheek. Instead, he slipped a hand under her elbow and motioned toward the front doors. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
To his surprise, she didn’t argue, just walked along at his side, unbuttoning her peacoat as they headed inside the lobby.
“Good morning, June,” she said to the woman behind the receptionist desk.
“Good morning, Ms. Raffa. Glad you’re okay.”
“Right as rain. Today’s a new day, and as far as I’m concerned yesterday never happened.”
June laughed. “Good luck with that. I’ve already had a half-dozen residents show up wanting to know where to send the cards and flowers.”
“How thoughtful.” Frankie ground out the words from between gritted teeth.
Jack laughed. Then they were on their way to the fourth floor, where they found Etta waiting for them in the hallway outside her door when they emerged from the elevator.
“Dolly, how do you feel?”
Frankie hurried forward and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “Perfectly perfect as you can see. Now that I’m someplace with working heat. Who knew how cold that big house could get?”
“I could have told you that.” Etta stepped inside her apartment. “The repairman may have trouble fixing the furnace, though. Your grandfather put it in such a long time ago.”
“Hello again, Etta,” Jack said, following Frankie into the small foyer. “I called Harvey Stockton. He said it might take some doing, but he thought he could get it working again.”
“You are a good boy, Jack. Thank you for taking such good care of my granddaughter.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
Etta gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “Did you get your socks back?”
He chuckled. “I did.”
Frankie rolled her eyes and stepped into the living room, shrugging off her coat. “Is Gabrielle still asleep? Oh, there you are, pup.”
Then she strode toward the bedroom, where a young girl, tall and slim like her mother and a few inches taller, stood in the doorway.
“My poor puppy,” Frankie said, stroking her hair. “I abandoned you yesterday. I’m so sorry.”
Gabrielle was a beautiful girl, with the same expressive features as her mother. Jack thought she looked relieved when she hugged Frankie with no hint of self-consciousness. With her cheek resting on her mother’s shoulder, she eyed him curiously.
“Gabrielle, this is Chief Sloan,” Etta said. “The one I told you about. Remember?”
“I remember, Nonna. The bachelor,” Gabrielle said, deadpan.
That got a response from Frankie, who disentangled herself from her daughter’s arms with a frown. “Knock it off, you two.” She met his gaze. “Jack, my daughter, Gabrielle.”
Jack was too busy trying not to smile. He was glad to know he had at least one member of this family in his corner, because admittedly, he didn’t have much experience with teenagers. Except for the delinquent variety. So he chose a straightforward approach, crossing the distance and extending his hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Gabrielle. Your mother has told me a lot about you. All good.”
She took his stock in a glance, her expression noncommittal, but Jack was a cop at heart and knew she didn’t miss a thing about him. She was reserving her opinion.
“All good?”
Jack inclined his head.
Gabrielle just smiled.
And Jack realized right then that not only did he have to convince the mom to take a chance on him, but her daughter, too.
Apparently, Etta already knew that because she popped her head through the cutaway leading into a tiny kitchen and asked, “Jack, you’ll stay for coffee, won’t you?”
“Yes, Etta,” he said with enthusiasm. “I’d love to.”
SUSANNA TOPPED OFF HER MUG with the last of the coffee then automatically went to rinse the carafe. Unfortunately, there was no getting in the sink. Not with last night’s dinner dishes piled high.
“Brooke, damn it.” Couldn’t her daughter have loaded the dishwasher? Was that really so hard to do?
Wait a sec…today was Saturday, which meant yesterday was Friday. Her day for the dishes. Except that she hadn’t left work until late after Frankie’s escapades. Come on, who traipsed around the property after a snowstorm? She was lucky she didn’t fall down the mountain and break her neck.
By the time Susanna had left the lodge, she’d had to go straight to the school to pick up Brandon from practice, which meant she hadn’t cooked dinner until after they’d gotten home. That full sink of dishes hadn’t even computed in her tired brain. After dinner, she’d curled into a ball on the couch with a blanket and pillow and subjected herself to the tail end of some completely forgettable made-for-television movie.
If you’d have been here, Skip, you’d have rescued me from these dishes. My knight in shining armor.
Okay. So she’d bump last night’s dinner dishes into the first slot on today’s to-do list. Not a tragedy. Setting down the carafe, she sipped her coffee and waited for the caffeine to kick in, not hopeful as this was already her fourth cup.
“Mom.” Brooke sailed into the kitchen with purpose.
“Yes, dear?”
“I want to go to a show tonight. That okay with you? I’m giving you plenty of notice since I know how much you hate last-minute plans.”
Brooke was being cooperative? The hairs on the back of Susanna’s neck stood on end. “What kind of show? And where?”
“Transitions. It’s a venue in Saugerties.”
“What’s a venue?”
Brooke rolled her eyes and started digging through the pantry, presumably for breakfast. “A place that has shows.”
“I shopped on Thursday. There’s oatmeal, cereal and bagels. Or if you want, you can make eggs.”
Each suggestion earned a disgusted grimace. “No Pop-Tarts?”
“Ah, real food, please.”
Another grimace.
“Okay, no eggs then.” Susanna wasn’t at all surprised, but talking about breakfast bought her some time to collect her thoughts about this proposition.
Brooke still wore her pajamas, sweatlike pants made out of some clingy fabric and a muscle shirt that left too much of her tummy bare. And she was barefoot on the tile floor.
“Aren’t you cold?” Susanna asked.
“No.” Brooke quit the pantry and moved on to the refrigerator.
“Okay, so a venue is a place that has shows,” Susanna said. “What kind of shows?”
“Bands.”
“You want to go see a band?”
Susanna must have sounded as surprised as she felt because Brooke wheeled around from the refrigerator, armed with a bag of bagels and tub of cream cheese, ready for battle.
“Yes, a band, Mom. My friends are playing.”
“You have friends in a band.”
Brooke didn’t even dignify that with a reply as she deposited her breakfast on the baker’s rack beside the toaster and rummaged through the silverware drawer.
“What friends?”
“Justin’s in Frantica. Matt and Ethan are in Tranz PM.”
“So more than one band is playing.”
“Yeah. Four or five, I think.”
“Any girls going to this show?”
Brooke sawed apart a bagel, not seeming to notice the crumbs sprinkling onto the floor. “Mmm-hmm. Tyler’ll be there, and Kaley, too.”
Kaley was a longtime friend, so no problem there. Susanna hadn’t ever actually met Tyler, but knew from Brooke that Tyler dated Matt. Both were sophomores, if memory served. “Anyone going to be there with a car?”
“I don’t know. But I won’t get in anyone’s car if that’s what you’re asking.”
It was. At this age, these kids were a terrifying mix of those who could drive and those who couldn’t. At fifteen, Brooke wasn’t going to be driving in anyone’s car. “That was the right answer. So who hangs out at this kind of venue?”
“Kids, Mom. It’s by the skate park.”
“You mean a teen club?”
“A venue. It costs seven bucks to get in, but they don’t serve alcohol or anything. So you don’t have to worry.”
Oh, Susanna was worried all right. “Let me get this straight. You want to go clubbing tonight in Saugerties to see your friends play in a band?”
“It’s not clubbing,” Brooke insisted. “I told you there’s no alcohol.”
Inside the club, maybe. But it was clubbing all the same, which meant Brooke would be primed and ready for the bars as soon as she could legally drink.
Susanna stifled the impulse to laugh and say, “No way.” No, she was going to handle this rationally no matter how much it hurt. That was the only way she could expect Brooke to communicate rationally. “I appreciate the advance notice, so let me give it some thought. Why don’t you get me some more information about this…venue.” Club.
“What kind of information?”
Setting her mug on the counter, Susanna reached into the cabinet for a plate before Brooke took out any more of the floor with her mess. “Surely they have a Web site or a MySpace page?”
Brooke nodded.
“That’ll be good enough. E-mail me the URL and I’ll go check it out as soon as I finish cleaning up in here.”
“Will do.” Brooke withdrew the bagel from the toaster and placed it on the plate. Then she sauntered off to the table with the tub of cream cheese. That was it. No argument.
Susanna almost smiled. Rational had won the moment and they hadn’t degenerated into an argument that invariably would wind up with Brooke accusing Susanna of treating her like a child.
Unless, of course, Susanna discovered this venue was inappropriate for a fifteen-year-old, in which case the argument would start as soon as Brooke was told she wouldn’t be going.
But Susanna wasn’t going to borrow trouble. She’d savor the triumph of the moment—
“Aunt Karan’s here,” Brandon yelled from the living room.
Glancing out the window above the sink, Susanna did a double take as the low-slung Jaguar wheeled to a sharp stop in her driveway. Glancing at the clock above the baker’s rack, she wiped her hands on the dish towel and started for the door.
For Karan to get up and out before noon on a Saturday…Susanna pulled open the door to find Karan already out of the car and heading up the walkway with long, graceful strides.
“What on earth is going on?” Susanna asked.
One look at Karan’s expression answered several questions instantly. Karan was positively in a state. Her bright blue eyes were flashing, and her well-maintained mouth was compressed into a tight line that would have had her plastic surgeon scowling.
“You are simply not going to believe it,” she said, sweeping past Susanna.
Susanna shut the door and would have offered to take Karan’s coat, but she was already slipping the fur-lined wool off her shoulders and tossing it onto the antique bench.
“Let’s go into the sunroom, where we can talk.” Susanna inclined her head toward the living room where Brandon was on the floor in front of the couch, hands clutching the remote controller to his video game.
“Hey, kiddo,” Karan called out, and Susanna was pleased when he glanced away from his game long enough to smile.
“Hey, Aunt Karan.”
Any further interaction was cut off when Brooke sailed into the room and let out a squeal, before launching herself at Karan for an enthusiastic greeting, complete with air kisses.
“Aunt Karan!”
“Hello, gorgeous.” Karan was momentarily distracted from the drama at hand. “Look at you. Mom can’t keep those boys away, I’ll bet. You remember what I told you?”
“Only the rich handsome ones who have their eyes on the future,” Brooke quoted.
“Good girl.”
There was no mystery why Brooke was so enamored with Karan. What young girl wouldn’t be fascinated by a beautiful woman who wore wealth and style as comfortably as Susanna wore Skip’s old flannel robe? She was tall, blonde and always dressed impeccably, whether bundled up against the snow, on her way to a show in the city or heading to the club for a kickboxing class.
She was the one who brought extravagant gifts—Broadway show tickets for Brooke’s birthday and an autographed baseball for Brandon at Christmas.
Aunt Karan was like the gorgeous Fairy Godmother.
“Convince Mom to let me go to a show tonight, will you, please?” Brooke begged.
Karan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “See what I can do. A girl’s got to have a social life.”
“Don’t shoot yourself in the foot, young lady.” Susanna ended the debate before it began. “I said I’d think about it.”
“Oh, let her go, Suze,” Karan said with a wink at Brooke. “She’s got to get out into the world and be seasoned. Or else how is she going to attract all those rich handsome men with their eyes on the future?”
Susanna simply smiled in reply then shooed Brooke away. “Go get that information for me. I’m sure Aunt Karan didn’t drop by this early to run interference for you.”
After another enthusiastic hug, Brooke headed into the kitchen while Susanna led Karan out to the sunroom where they could talk in private.
Even with gray skies swelling in preparation for another snowstorm, the sunroom was Susanna’s favorite space in the house. Once the kids’ rooms had held that distinction, but now they were older, and Skip was gone, the sunroom was the one place where she could go that wasn’t overcome with bittersweet memories, a place she could be alone with her thoughts.
The room, mostly windows, stretched into the conservation lot that was her backyard and had initially sold her on the house. Come spring it would awaken with greenery and bright flowers. But right now it was tiered in snow, winter-bare trees reaching spindly fingers into that gray sky. A scene that felt a lot like her mood.
The door had barely shut behind them before Karan said, “You are never going to guess who Charles saw at the hospital last night.”
Charles had been Karan’s first husband and one of the hospital’s surgeons, so the answer could have been anyone. Why Karan had been talking to her ex was a mystery in itself, but Susanna wasn’t about to ask.
“No clue,” she said, even though she had a good idea. “Who did Charles see?”
“Frankie. She was in the emergency room.”
This much Susanna knew, but that wouldn’t have brought Karan around this early. “And…?”
“Jack.” Karan dropped into a chair…well, dropped wasn’t exactly the right description. More like melted, a fluid motion that spoke more eloquently than any words about what she thought of Jack being with Frankie last night. “Did you know?”
Hmm, how to avoid getting blasted because she hadn’t picked up the phone and called Karan with this news? “I saw him take off in the ambulance with her, but I assumed the paramedics wanted to check him out, too.”
Karan looked unimpressed. “I can believe the klutz almost killed herself. I can believe Jack rode in to save the day like her bloody knight in shining armor. But I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”
Susanna knew Karan must be willing to let the slight go otherwise she wouldn’t be here. Sinking onto the couch opposite Karan, she curled up in the big cushions. “I was going to call. But I expected you to be off doing something special on a Friday night. And you never pick up the phone before noon.”
“Who slept last night, anyway?” She gave a dismissive wave with a perfectly manicured hand. “And I do hope you appreciate how I’m looking out for you when you can’t even bother to pick up the phone until it’s convenient for you.”
Susanna was guilty as charged, so there was no point arguing. “What did Charles say?”
For a moment, Karan looked as if she might keep the news to herself to keep Susanna in suspense, but that lasted all of a heartbeat. “Charles said that Jay wanted to keep Frankie overnight for observation. But apparently she didn’t want to cooperate—big surprise there, I’m sure—so Jack had him release Frankie into his care.”
Susanna frowned. She knew where this was going. “Frankie has a daughter the same age as Brooke. Jack probably dropped Frankie off at home and let her daughter babysit. Or he might have taken her back to the lodge to stay with her grandmother.”
Karan sat upright and folded her arms across her chest. “You think? So why was his car at her house all night?”
“You’re kidding?”
Karan shook her head, a smug smile in place.
“How do you know that? Are you sure?”
“I drove by and saw for myself. At midnight. And two. And five.” Her mouth twisted in a distasteful moue. “He didn’t leave until after eight this morning.”
“You drove by Frankie’s house last night?” Like a real, live stalker, only Susanna kept that to herself. “All right, you got me. I am surprised. I completely didn’t see this coming. You don’t think something’s going on between them, do you?”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“Even if there is, Karan, why do you care?”
“I thought you’d have been worried. That’s why I gave up my entire night to find out what was going on.”
“I have no interest whatsoever in Frankie’s personal life. Or Jack’s for that matter.”
Karan smiled that slightly exasperated, very smug smile. “I would have thought that since you and Frankie are the only ones left on Jack’s suspect list, you might be worried she was trying to throw the investigation in her favor.”
That stopped Susanna short, and for a moment she could only stare. “I’m still on the suspect list?” she finally sputtered. “Me and Frankie? That’s it? Where did you hear that?”
“The grapevine, honey. That’s why I’m here. If Frankie’s sleeping with Jack while he’s investigating…”
“Jack would never fall for that.”
“Don’t be so sure. What wouldn’t a man do for sex?”
Susanna didn’t have an answer for that. She’d never slept with Jack. Admittedly Karan’s relationship with Jack had ended long ago, but she still had more of a clue about what might go on in Jack’s bed than Susanna did.
