Devious - Lisa Jackson [37]
Back to that.
She turned and faced Freya. “I take it Slade renting the Garden View Room was the reason you wanted to talk to me last night.”
Freya was nodding, standing near the window. “Yeah.” She sighed as she stared through the glass. “Now they’re taking shots of the house. Great. I guess we’ll chalk it up as free publicity.” She turned to Val. “Anything I can do?”
“No,” Val said, and with a glance at Slade said, “But the next time one of my ex-husbands calls to rent a room, hang up.”
“I’m not your ex yet,” Slade said.
“Soon, Cowboy.”
“We’ll see about that.” He grabbed his beat-up duffel in one big hand. “Why don’t you show me which room is mine?”
“Gladly,” she mocked, and found Freya already holding out the key. “Fabulous.” She snagged the key, then headed up the stairs with Slade one step behind in his dusty boots. A door on the first floor opened, and she heard a sharp bark, then the sound of scrambling paws on the marble floor of the foyer. A second later, Bo bounded up the stairs. “This is low, Slade, even for you,” she said as she followed the fading carpet runner to the second floor, then turned upward again. “Calling Freya behind my back.”
“Would you have seen me?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Then I guess I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“There are always choices,” she said on the top floor.
They reached the third-floor landing where Bo was waiting, bottom wiggling, tongue lolling from one side of his mouth. Black lips pulled back, he appeared to smile as she reached down and petted his head. “I have missed you, you miserable mutt,” she said with a chuckle, and the dog whined as if he understood. “Someone better be treating you right.”
“Spoiled rotten.”
“Just as it should be.” Straightening, Val walked to one side of the landing, where an etched brass plate read GARDEN VIEW ROOM and the crystal doorknob twisted easily. She let Slade step inside the cozy room with its red oak floors, sloping ceilings, and painted tile fireplace. Double doors opened onto a private deck that did, indeed, have a view of the herb and flower garden as well as the roof of the attached cottage Val called home. It was all a little too close for comfort.
“Nice,” he said, then tossed his backpack toward a closet as Bo sniffed the perimeter of the room.
“We have a no-pets policy.”
“You gonna make him sleep in the truck?”
“I should. But I guess I’ll make an exception. He can sleep with me.”
His lips twitched.” If anyone complains, let me know.”
“If anyone complains, I’ll handle it,” she said. “And if you need anything?”
“Yeah?”
“Call Freya.” She walked out of the room with Bo, then closed the door behind her. Slade’s deep-throated chuckle followed her all the way to the first floor.
Freya was at the sink when Val breezed through the swinging door separating the kitchen from the dining area. Stacks of dishes rose from the sink, soaking in sudsy water, and apples simmered on the stove, the scent of cinnamon mingling with the Lysol Freya used to clean the floor earlier in the morning.
She opened the dishwasher and began loading. “You okay?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “Hey—dog out of the kitchen!” Suds dripped from the freshly washed plate that she stacked on the lower rack.
“Definitely not,” Val said, and with an authoritative snap of her finger, sent Bo to the other side of the door. He left, tail between his legs.
“Oh, God, I feel like an ogre,” Freya said.
“He’ll get over it.”
“I suppose. How about you? Need a drink?”
“It’s not even noon.”
“That’s why Bloody Marys were invented.”
Val shook her head and heard the lonesome call of a whip-poorwill slipping through the open window. Its cry, rare now, caused a shudder to slide through her. “I think I’ll pass. Or at least take a rain check.” For now she had too much to do. She wanted to forward all of