She Does Know Jack (32 page)

Crud. Now her chest
tightened with a painful tug. She needed to get off this subject before the
tears heating her throat found their way to her eyes. God, would the pain ever
go away? She swallowed again.

“My son’s being
Jack-The-Donkey again.” Sophia released her with a squeeze.

Brielle laughed.
The woman certainly had a way with words.

“He has a hard
time with trust, but I know he’ll come around to you. Please don’t give up on
him.”

Swallowing a
third time, Brielle nodded.

“That’s what I
told her.” Matthew smiled encouragingly. “Although, I think my words were a
little more colorful than
Jack-The-Donkey
.”

“That doesn’t
surprise me.” His mother shook her head, then slid her attention back to
Brielle. “So, now that we know your gut is working, Brielle, what does it tell
you about Mandy?”

She studied the
blonde laughing up into Jack’s amused face as he slipped back behind the bar.
“It tells me she’s hiding something, but she isn’t the one causing the
threats.”

“Oh, thank
goodness.” Matthew closed his eyes and leaned back, smiled curving his lips.

Brielle turned
to him and frowned. “Did you hear me, Matthew? She’s hiding something.”

“I know.” He
opened his eyes, happiness swimming in their brown depths. “But I trust Mandy.
Whatever she’s hiding, I’ll deal with it.”

Envy tightened
Brielle’s still swollen throat. Her gaze locked with Jack’s. What she wouldn’t
give to hear him say that to her.

Jack caught her
gaze and frowned, his eyes searching hers, delving deep inside and stopping her
heart. She knew what he sought—trust. The one thing she couldn’t give to him.
He had to find it within himself to trust her.

Until he did,
they had no future together.

She refocused on
Matthew and lifted her glass. “Here’s to our trip to San Francisco tomorrow. I
could use a change of scenery.”

Matthew grinned.
“Yes, and I promise no donkeys or horses while we’re there.” He chuckled and
clinked glasses.

“I can live with
that.” She turned to his mother. “Well, I guess we should probably switch now.”

Sophia nodded,
and they rose to their feet. “I’m glad to hear you don’t suspect Mandy. It sets
my mind at ease.” The woman kissed her cheek and smiled. “Thank you, Brielle. I
know this has been a difficult job.”

“You’re welcome,
but I want you to know that if this case isn’t solved by Monday night, I’m not
quitting until it is.”

Sophia nodded.

“Hang in there,”
Matthew urged, with a squeeze to her arm.

Drowning her
snort with a sip of wine, she headed toward the others, then pasted a smile on
her lips as Jack's eyes followed her approach. She hadn’t talked to him since
Sunday and only saw him briefly on Monday when he and his brother had stopped
at the bachelorette mansion to pick Mandy up for the Aspen trip. They hadn’t
said a word. He’d been as frigid as his destination. But now…not so much. His expression
was guarded. No hostility. No warmth. Just neutral. Some of the heaviness
evaporated from Brielle’s chest. She could deal with neutral.

“Mandy, they’re
ready for you over there.” She met the blonde’s nervous look with what she
hoped was a reassuring gaze.

“Okay. It was
nice talking to you,” Mandy said to Mr. Anderson, then headed across the room,
her half-finished drink in hand.

“I guess you
make…I guess you give…” Brielle paused to find the correct phrase as she held
Jack’s gaze. “You’re a good bartender.”

“Yeah, he must
be. That’s Mandy’s second one,” Don said with a grin.

Brielle gulped
her wine and ordered her funny bone not to respond. It didn’t listen. With her
emotions and anxiety making her silly, she smiled at Jack and opened her mouth.

“Don’t say it,
Brielle,” he warned, blue eyes torn between amusement and annoyance.

That made it
worse. Her lips burned to speak. Hoping a change of subject would be the cure,
she sipped her wine and turned to his father. “So, did my uncle tell you
anything to pass on to me?”

“Yes, as a
matter of fact, he did.” Don set his glass down to pull a notepad from the
inside of his jacket pocket. “Franco said the results on the fingerprint you
lifted from the monitor were his.”

She shook her
head in disgust. “Shoot. We never catch a break. What about the fingerprint on
my dresser?”

Mr. Anderson’s
eyebrows furrowed as he studied his notes. “That turned out to be…Carla’s.”

Brielle sighed.
“That’s not surprising since she was sent up there to get my bathing suit the
other day.”

“What’s going
on? When did you get these prints?” Jack’s gaze bounced between them.

“While you were
in Aspen, enjoying the snow,” Brielle replied. “The crew and I went through
both mansions—found a few prints, but nothing else.” She leaned her hip against
the bar and turned to his father. “What about the audio feed? Did Uncle Franco
get that cleaned up?”

Jack frowned.
“Feed from what?”

“From the bugs I
planted on the yacht,” she said, keeping emotion from her voice. “There were
some questionable noises in the lounge earlier on that day we played the card
game, but I couldn’t make it out.”

His chin lifted
and a glimmer of admiration filled his eyes. Her heart tripped. She’d gotten
used to the guarded look. What did she do with this one? They stared at each
other a moment before his gaze lowered to his drink.

“Franco said to
tell you it was Matthew.” Don’s voice grabbed her attention. “And that the Jet
Ski was clean.” He glanced at the notepad, then put it away. “That’s it.”

“Wonderful. Nothing.”
She finished her wine.
Why did they keep hitting these dead ends?
She
placed her glass on the bar by Jack’s arm. “Back to square one.”

“This is getting
out of hand,” he said, refilling her glass. “I’ll be glad when this damn show
is over. Then I can do some straight work and not have to stop to please
producers.”

She held her
glass up in a mock toast. “I heard that. Monday can’t come soon enough.”
Fighting a sigh, she sipped her wine, then glanced at Jack and blinked. His
intense stare dried her mouth. He looked as if he…as if he didn’t want to see
her go.

Hope woke the
butterflies in her belly.

“So, Brielle,
were you bored while we were in Aspen?” Matthew asked from behind.

She watched
Jack’s guarded expression slip back into place and her pulse returned to
normal. His little reveal did lessen the tightness in her chest, though.
Breathing easier, she turned to Matthew and found him standing behind her with
his mother and Mandy on each arm.

“Yes, I was
bored out of my skull,” she lied through a smile.

“Ah, poor thing.
What did you do?” he asked, depositing his mother at his father’s side while
keeping Mandy’s hand firmly on his arm.

“I watched a lot
of videos,” she replied with a grin.
Way too much video
. She took
another sip of her wine.

Mandy’s blue
eyes rounded. “Did you watch Jack’s pirate movie?”

The wine burned
a new path down Brielle’s throat. She coughed, and after regaining the ability
to speak, glanced at Jack. “I wasn’t aware he was in one.”

“Yeah, I made
several. Maybe you’ve heard of them?” He smiled, refilling his mother’s glass.
“Jack the Shipper, Jack’s Revenge, and my personal favorite, The Empire Strikes
Jack.”

They all laughed
except for Mandy. Her blue eyes grew even wider. “I didn’t know you made three?
Why didn’t someone tell me? Danni said you didn’t make any.”

Sobering, they stared
at each other, silently deciding who should clue the girl in when Bill spoke up
from the cluster of production people off camera.

“It’s time for
dinner,” he announced, waiting for them to move.

Brielle grabbed
her purse from the bar and took Matthew’s offered arm as he escorted her and
Mandy from the room. Jack and his parents followed. Close. Real close. A slow
burn tingled down her spine. Dammit. Why did he have to be so intoxicating?
Need and longing combusted, spreading like wildfire through her body, until
cold reality doused the newfound flames. She knew better than to read anything
into his non-hostile behavior. They had a lot to talk about before heat came
into play. If ever. But, heaven help her, she want to play.

“If you’ll have
a seat, the food will be brought out shortly,” Bill told them before settling
out of view.

Candlelight set
a romantic mood, flickering from one of the smaller oval tables, adorned with
white linen and fresh roses. Matthew walked them to that table.

“I hope
everyone’s hungry.”

He pulled out
one of the six chairs for Mandy while Jack pulled out one for her across from
the blonde and next to his mother.

Careful not to
brush any part of him, Brielle settled in her seat, and when she glanced up to
thank him, she caught another of his unguarded expressions.

Regret.

She blinked, not
expecting to see that emotion up close. Or at all. They stared at each other
for a long beat. And when he opened his mouth as if to say something, her pulse
kicked up, pounding heavily in her ears. But then he closed his mouth again,
and the hooded gaze slipping into place blew her fluttering heart right into a
brick wall. Not unlike the size of Rodriguez.

Fighting an
unexpected sting of tears, she set her purse next to Sophia’s on the table and
watched Jack take his seat between his parents. Emotions bubbled into a tremor,
and she hid her trembling under the action of shaking out her napkin before placing
it on her lap.

Damn Jack and
his mixed signals.

She wondered
briefly if she could feign a headache to get out of dinner. Feign? She rubbed
her temple and grimaced. There’d be no feigning. Her head really did ache.

Whatever
happened to Brielle Chapman, the unruffled professional? She glanced at Jack
and swallowed. Seems this show produced a former Ranger capable of knocking the
no-nonsense out of her.

Several
white-jacketed servers carrying covered dishes entered through the swinging
kitchen door. Their arrival eased her ache. At least now she had something else
to concentrate on.

“Mmm, smells
good.” Mandy smiled at the men.

The aroma of
chicken filled Brielle’s nostrils as a server placed hers and Sophia’s dishes
on the table and, with a flourish, lifted their lids to reveal chicken
cordon
bleu
…with a topping of live frog.

The startled
server dropped the lids and stepped back while Brielle and Sophia jumped to
their feet.

“Ack,” Mandy
screamed, spilling her drink as she scurried from the table. “Ah, great. Now I
have to go wash this off.”

“What’s going on
here?” Don frowned, looking at the table of frogs.

“I doubt it’s a
new delicacy.” Brielle lunged forward and caught the airborne amphibian sailing
toward Sophia’s slight frame. She held the frog up to look into his bulging
eyes. “At least, not in this state.”

“Eew.” Sophia
grimaced, backing further from the table.

“Brielle, what
are you doing?” Jack rushed to her, face full of concern. “They may be
poisonous,”

Warmed by that
sentiment, she smiled. “Relax, Jack. They’re just common tree frogs.” Removing
the roses from the centerpiece with one hand, she dropped the creature inside.
“They’re harmless. In fact, we’re more harm to them.” She caught two more,
marveling at their slick feel as she released them into the vase. “The oils on
our skin aren’t good for them. Kind of like that lotion to Carla’s snake.”

“How do you know
all this?” Matthew asked, managing to smile and frown at the same time.

“I worked at
Bob’s Reptile Land after school and on weekends,” she replied and bent to save
another frog from the perils of the floor.

That job hadn’t
crossed her mind in years. Creatures like these had filled the void after she’d
lost her parents. They needed her, depended on her, and Brielle thrived on
their reliance. It instilled her insatiable need to help people.

“Is there
anything that scares you?” Jack asked quietly, heat from his hand seeping into
hers as they brushed while he placed the remaining two frogs in the vase.

She straightened
and smiled. “Well, had these been spiders, not even a crow bar would’ve pried
me from that chandelier.” She pointed to the elaborate crystal formation
hanging above them.

“I see.”

He returned her
smile, and a little thing called hope flickered to life. She stared at him,
willing him to say something, yet half afraid to hear the words.

“Well, that’s
all of them,” Matthew said, breaking the spell. “I wonder how they got there.”

Jack blinked.
“Good question,” he said, then transferred his gaze to the nearest server.
“Explain to me what the hell happened to dinner.” He folded his arms.