His Private Pleasure Page 16

  Of course, the appearance of the woman also made the situation hard to take too seriously. She looked like something out of a bad B movie. She was tall, or maybe she just seemed that way. Her bright red hair—no way a natural tone—had been teased to the limits of endurance. Just as the clothing she was wearing had been stretched to theirs. Her tight, black leather skirt ended high on tanned, surprisingly toned legs. Legs made even longer with the spiky, black plastic heels she wore. But it was the furry lime green tank top, encasing amazingly proportioned breasts that seemed to defy gravity, that really made the ensemble…special. It was a hell of a combo on a woman who looked to be pushing fifty.

  “Now that’s a Vegas showgirl,” Liza muttered, as Dylan braced himself and the woman launched herself into his arms.

  “Detective!” she squealed, quickly smoothing her hair and tugging her skirt down as Dylan disengaged himself from her clutches. “Don’t go off mad,” she said with a pout. “I made him bring me here. I was afraid. I’m sure Duggie knows I’m ratting on him and I don’t trust anyone but you to keep me safe.”

  “Pearl, Dugan knows we were set to meet here,” Dylan said, jaw clenched. He swiveled his attention to the Hispanic man, who was now out of the car and approaching with his hands up, palms out, as if beseeching Dylan to calm down. “What in the hell were you thinking, Quin?”

  “We need her testimony, D.J. If I didn’t get her out of town, she was going to leave on her own.”

  “I thought you had her under lock and key?”

  “Yeah, well, she managed to talk Moriarty into getting her some nail polish and—”

  “Nail polish?”

  Liza thought Dylan’s eyes were going to pop right out of his head.

  “Honey, I wasn’t staying in that place a moment longer,” Pearl stated flatly. She folded her arms, plumping her already bulbous breasts until they came dangerously close to spilling out of the low-cut tank top altogether. Judging from Quin’s anticipatory expression, it was a calculated move on her part.

  Liza smiled. This was someone who knew how to turn a situation around to her advantage, and who was unafraid to use whatever tools she had available. Liza admired that.

  “I already suffered a great deal from letting a man pretend to take care of and protect me,” she said huffily.

  “Right on, sister,” Liza said. Apparently louder than she intended, as the woman turned toward her.

  “Who’s this?” she demanded, eyes narrowing. “Another cop?”

  “No,” Dylan said flatly, then turned to Quin, not bothering to explain further. “Why didn’t you take her to a third location, alert me, and I’d have filed a new flight plan? I told you I didn’t want this here.”

  The redhead’s unnaturally full lips quavered. “You didn’t want me, either?”

  “Pearl—” Dylan began.

  “Don’t start!” she screamed, waving him away. “Take me back,” she informed Quin as she stalked past him, strutting amazingly well on four-inch heels. Liza’s respect continued to climb.

  “I might as well let Duggie kill me for all the good living does me,” she said, then stopped suddenly and dabbed at her eyes with the side of her thumb.

  Liza looked at both men, neither of whom seemed to know what to say, then sighed and got out of the car.

  “Liza, don’t—” Dylan began, but she ignored him and walked straight over to Pearl.

  “Men can be morons,” she said bluntly.

  Pearl sniffled, then slowly turned to look at her. “Damn straight. I don’t know why I agreed to this in the first place.” She glared at Dylan. “I thought there was at least one decent man left, but I guess I was wrong.”

  Liza forced her lips to remain flat, no matter how badly they wanted to twitch when Dylan scowled. She waved him back when he stepped forward, and was surprised when he stopped, albeit reluctantly.

  “Who are you?” Pearl asked.

  “A woman who’s been burned by a man,” Liza said. “Came home and found him in bed with another chick.”

  Pearl sniffed and patted her on the arm. “That’s awful, honey. Me, I’d have pumped one or two in his humpin’ ass.”

  “If I’d had a gun, I might have,” Liza admitted. “But I’m glad I didn’t.” She grinned at Pearl. “Waste of lead. He was a jerk and didn’t deserve me, anyway.”

  Pearl’s lips twitched slightly, then quivered again. “Yeah, at least my Duggie had the decency to break things off with me before he found Elaine.”

  Liza reached out and fluffed the fur on Pearl’s shoulder. “Nice. Where did you find it?”

  Pearl smiled now and dabbed at her mascara again. “Half-price sale at Thompson’s, just off the strip. I call it my purr fur.”

  I bet you do, Liza thought. “I’m too short to pull off something like that. You’re lucky.”

  Pearl snorted. “Yeah, that’s me all right.” Her lip quavered again. “Protected his ass for all these years. All these years I knew I was his special one. Sure, he married Elaine. I knew from the beginning I wasn’t going to be the missus, you know? His family demanded he marry better.” She shrugged, but Liza could see the hurt in her eyes. “So it wasn’t no real surprise when he ended it. He didn’t love her, you know, but he had balls enough to not screw around with me on the side once he got hitched. I admired that in him.” She picked at the fur between her breasts. “I knew I was still his special lady. In his heart.” She sucked in a short breath, then another, then the tears started to spill down her cheeks. “At least I thought I was. Until…until that bastard—” It was all she could manage between sobs.

  Liza took her hands and pulled her into an awkward hug. She sent a sharp glance toward Dylan and Quin and a brief shake of her head when they went to step forward. She patted Pearl’s back. “It’s okay, sweetie, let it all out.”

  And she did. Boy, did she ever.

  “You’re wrong, you know,” Liza said quietly as Pearl cried. Noisily.

  Alternately gulping and sniffling, Pearl lifted her head. Mascara had tracked heavily down her wet cheeks. “About what?”

  “About being good enough for him. A man who truly loves a woman doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She’s worth his respect no matter what.”

  “You saying he didn’t truly love me?”

  Liza shook her head. “I’m saying he didn’t love you enough. Enough to respect you. You thought he respected you enough to walk away, but he should have respected you enough to tell his family to take a flying leap.”

  Pearl nodded miserably, but said, “I don’t know. His family ain’t like a regular family, if you get my drift. But Duggie, he did love me.” She gulped down another sob. “What you said, though, about that respect thing…” She swallowed hard and had to try several times to continue on.

  “It’s okay, nothing you say will surprise me. I used to work in Hollywood. There’s nothing I haven’t seen,” Liza said with a wave of a hand.

  Pearl perked up immediately. “Hollywood? Really?” She hiccuped, then wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

  “The guy I was telling you about? You ever watch the soap opera Steam?” Liza knew she shouldn’t be saying this; she hadn’t told anyone but Natalie what had happened. But there was some perverse pleasure in sharing it with Pearl. “Conrad Jones? He plays—”

  Her eyes widened. “Straker. Wow. And I thought he was a hottie. Scum, huh?” She sighed, then hiccuped again. “Figures.” She smiled wistfully. “I always had this dream about going to Hollywood. Pretty silly when you think about it. A girl like me?” She shook her head and dabbed at her mascara again.

  “What? ‘A girl like me,’ my ass,” Liza stated. That seemed to startle Pearl. “Just because some jerk-off doesn’t appreciate you is no reason to think he knows his butt from a hole in the ground. What did this bastard Duggie say to you to make you think you weren’t good enough?”

  Pearl surprised her with a laugh. “Oh honey, he was just one in a long line of people who have made that pretty da
mn clear. Club owners, boyfriends, girlfriends…my own ma, for Christ’s sake.” She shrugged. “I got worth, don’t get me wrong. This ain’t no pity party. But I know my limits, too. I wasn’t from the right stock for Duggie. I knew that. I didn’t have no silver spoon in my mouth, more like picnic plasticware. It didn’t mean he couldn’t love me anyway, just that we weren’t meant for each other in the long term. And he set me up nice when he left.” She tugged at her shirt, stood a little taller. “I run a school, you know. Dancing.”

  “See? That’s great. A businesswoman. Successful, too, I bet. So what happened? You protected him all these years, he took care of you. Why give him over now?” Liza could almost hear Dylan gnashing his teeth behind her, but she ignored him. She had put two and two together pretty easily and knew why Pearl was here, and under police protection. She also had a pretty good idea of who had set that fire…and why they’d chosen that motel.

  “I protected him is right,” Pearl said, almost fiercely. “Kept his ass out of prison. Then, after all the years of trying, Elaine finally went and got knocked up.” Pearl looked up. Her dark brown eyes were blazing, then just as suddenly filled with tears. “She said no fun time in the sack no more until after Duggie Junior arrived. So he…he—” She choked back the sob. “He thought I’d be willing to resume our relationship while his wife was…was with child. Like I was some kind of…some kind of—” She huffed and sucked in a breath as she scrubbed the tears from her face. “Well, I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t no whore. What is your name, anyway?”

  “Liza,” she supplied.

  “Like the singer!”

  Liza just nodded, feeling an affection for the woman despite, or maybe because of, her wacky, up-and-down nature. She was this endearing combination of weary street smarts and naive, wide-eyed wonder.

  “Well, Liza, I know a lot of people might think less of me because I took my clothes off for money. But, like I said, I ain’t no whore. Never have been.” She laughed, her voice hoarse with tears. “Maybe I should have. Probably coulda retired in Florida, be feeding the birds by now.”

  “I think you should talk to Dylan,” Liza said abruptly, gripping Pearl’s wrist when she would have pulled away. “Men can be assholes, but the only reason Dylan wanted you away from here is because Dugan set a fire to your first meeting place. He was worried about you.”

  “He’s worried about the information I have, you mean.”

  Liza nodded. “Sure, he is a cop. You knew that coming in. But there are a lot of other cops in Vegas. You chose to talk to this one. Surely there was a reason you trusted him and not the others.”

  “He was…nice to me. Back a long time ago, when they first tried to take Duggie down. The others, they didn’t, you know, show any respect.” She shrugged, then looked at Liza consideringly. “You trust him?”

  She smiled now, and it was the sort of look that only another woman would understand. “Honey,” she said, leaning in, “he’s hard not to.”

  Pearl smiled back, and pushed at her hair, straightened her shirt. “You two…you’re, you know, together?”

  Liza shrugged and nodded. “For now, anyway.”

  Pearl sighed and dabbed at her lipstick, then adjusted her bra. “Yeah, well, if I was you, I’d do whatever I could to keep my hooks in that one.” She sighed. “He’s a bit young for me, anyway.” She leaned down and shot Liza a wink. “You didn’t hear that from me. Most men don’t guess I’m as old as I am.” She moved away, mercifully keeping Liza from having to answer that one, and crossed the road. “Okay, Detective, I’m ready to talk. Is there somewhere around here a girl can fix her makeup and get a soda and some fries? I do better when my digestive system is evened out.”

  Dylan smiled. “Sure. No problem.” He corraled her toward Quin’s car, sending Liza a look she couldn’t interpret, but figured she’d hear all about momentarily. “You two follow us,” he told Quin. “I know just the place.”

  As soon as she and Dylan were back in her car, Liza turned to him, all set to tell him to back off, that she’d done him a favor, only he beat her to the punch.

  “Thank you.”

  Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut again. “You’re welcome,” she said, nonplussed.

  He smiled as they headed away from the airstrip, and continued on in the opposite direction from town. “What, you think I’m going to beg to be the one who has to handle the angry, hysterical woman?”

  Liza smiled, but answered him seriously. “She wasn’t hysterical. She was humiliated. She thought this Dugan character held her in some kind of esteem because he’d taken care of her financially and had the decency to end their sexual relationship before finding himself a more suitable bride.”

  “You’re angry. Is this personal?”

  Liza shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Someone pass you over for that reason? I have a real hard time believing that one.”

  She shot him a smile. “Brownie point earned. And no, not me. But my parents could both write books on the subject. Thankfully, neither has an interest in literature.”

  Dylan chuckled, then apologized. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at their misfortune.”

  “Don’t worry. I learned a long time ago they brought their misfortunes on themselves.”

  “I take it you’re not close, then?”

  She hadn’t meant to talk about them, didn’t really want to now, but she supposed this was a step toward revealing a couple of those little pieces. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. “They were always pretty self-involved, even when they were together. It’s easier and certainly healthier to leave them to their own destructive devices.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m not. It just is what it is.” She glanced at him. “I always wondered what it would be like to have a big family. I think I would have enjoyed having an escape hatch like you did. I can’t imagine a houseful of people, all related to me.” She laughed. “The very thought used to make me shudder.”

  “Used to?”

  Her smile wavered, then steadied as she held his gaze. She nodded. “Till recently. Very recently.”

  He smiled, looked back to the road. “Thank you,” he said at length.

  “For?”

  “The little piece.”

  She glanced over at him, but he kept his eyes ahead. What do you know, she thought, shifting her own gaze forward, her lips curved in a slight smile. It didn’t hurt to share a little. In fact, it felt kind of good.

  He was silent for a long while. Normally Liza didn’t mind the silences, but she discovered she was curious about this one. Curious about what he was thinking, curious about a lot of things regarding Dylan Jackson. Everything, really. “Pretty quiet over there,” she said casually. “You thinking about Pearl, the case?”

  “Honestly?” He darted a quick look at her. “I was thinking that I enjoy the way you put things into words.”

  “What? Where did that come from?”

  “I was thinking how much I enjoy just having you with me. I enjoy talking to you, listening to you. You’re interesting and entertaining.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She’d honestly expected some cop shoptalk, even an “I can’t discuss a case” response.

  “You’re witty, with a sense of humor that is dry and clever without sounding flippant or petty,” he continued. “You’ve got this ability to put everything in perspective with a quick, common sense approach. And you read people very well.” He shifted a little and glanced briefly at her. “You handled Pearl really well.”

  Liza shrugged, caught totally off guard. “It’s a gift, what can I say?”

  Dylan laughed. “Now you’re being flippant. What, you can’t take a compliment?”

  “I can take a compliment. It’s the observations that are harder to swallow.”

  “Was I off the mark?”

  She glanced at him now, and smiled. “I’ll just say thank-you and shut up.” When he merely stared at h
er, she reached over and nudged his face to the front again. “Keep your eyes on the road, Sheriff.”

  “Chicken.”

  She smiled, then laughed. “Okay. Let’s just say you read people well, too. Maybe too well.”

  Dylan grinned. “Then we have something in common.”

  “Learned in completely different worlds, but maybe you have a point.”

  “Just about that?”

  She smiled but didn’t look at him. She could feel his glance. “Maybe. Maybe more.” Liza rubbed at her arms despite the hot, dry air that teased her curls as they drove on. But it only enhanced the tingling sensation she was feeling. Perhaps the same thing he was feeling. A connection that belied the short time frame of their acquaintance. Natalie had worried about the very same thing when she’d met Jake. And Liza had told her then that maybe sometimes a heart simply knew. She stole a glance over at Dylan’s hands, hands that had pushed her, prodded her, brought her indescribable pleasure.

  Much like the man himself.

  She shivered again, both in anticipation of where this thing between them was headed…and where it could end.

  “You joked about your parents writing a book,” Dylan said into the quiet rush of air. “Maybe you should think about writing a book. I bet you could tell some tales. About the insights you gleaned from your former business,” he added quickly. “Not about your parents.”

  She smiled, honestly surprised by the suggestion. “When I first decided to leave my business, I thought about writing a screenplay, figuring maybe I could do for myself what I had done for others. Bask in my own spotlight.” She gave a dry laugh. “I discovered I didn’t have the main ingredient.”

  “A good imagination? I find that hard to—”

  “No, talent.”

  “Oh. Well.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. And I also realized that basking in the spotlight wasn’t what I needed, anyway.”

  Dylan grinned. “Still, book writing is different.”

  “If it’s so easy, maybe you should write one then, about the things you’ve had to deal with.” She grinned. “Vegas Vice: The Inside Story. Has ‘blockbuster’ written all over it. I could get you some meetings, do a pitch for you. Just imagine it—”