Fadeout Read online

  “Next week?”

  “This is Sunday? Yup. One week. You come Sunday evening. Why don’t I give you the retitling paperwork then?”

  “Really?” Frank’s voice sounded hopeful for the first time in the conversation. The guilt she felt brought tears to her eyes.

  He hoped she’d choose Seattle over Arroyo Grande.

  She wondered if she’d pick either city as her home.

  Chapter Five

  Roman held two dog biscuits in his hand when he rang Jan Solvang’s doorbell. At Bella’s insistence, they’d purchased a box of dog treats meant to help Roman make friends with Elwood. He’d argued with his grandmother about whether or not to bring the whole box to Jan. Bella said, “Hold a couple and keep one or two in your pocket so Elwood likes the way you smell. Take treats to her house every time you visit.”

  “What do you mean, every time I visit? I’ve got one appointment with the lady.”

  When Bella indicated one visit would never be enough, Roman gave up arguing with her and decided he’d need to adopt a take-charge attitude. No more complaining; forge ahead. He could think of worse things than pocketing dog treats and smelling like stale biscuits all day. If he was going to finish his own projects in a week as well as handle Sidney’s memorial, he’d have to work quickly and efficiently with the funeral planner. No more bickering with the woman. Get down to it.

  He was primed for all business when her door opened. Ready with a polite smile, he barely noticed the flash of black at floor level.

  Elwood’s teeth clamped down on the heel of his shoe.

  “Yeouch!” he yelled, shaking his leg away from the dog and dropping the biscuits on the stoop.

  Her eyes wide with surprise, Jan reached for the dog. “Stop! Elwood, no!”

  The dog let go of Roman’s shoe and squirmed away from her grasp. Thinking Elwood was diving for his other leg, Roman hopped away, lost his footing, teetered, and fell backward off the corner of the stoop, landing on his butt in the grass.

  Jan leaped off the stoop and held out a hand while she repeated, “Oh, my God, I am so sorry.”

  So much for getting down to business.

  Ignoring her outstretched hand, he quickly stood and brushed off his pants, all the while keeping an eye on the black dog from hell.

  Elwood chomped on the biscuits, tail a-wagging.

  Jan held her head with her hands as she stared at his ankle, horrified. Next, she gripped his arm, standing close enough to him that he smelled her perfume, something rich and tropical.

  “I’m so sorry, Roman. I’m sure he’s never done anything like that. I can’t…God, your ankle is bleeding.”

  He smiled awkwardly, feeling more off center by her touch and her concern than the fall. “No big deal,” he said, even though his senses sparked wildly so he had trouble breathing.

  “We’d better check it out. Maybe you need a tetanus shot.”

  For a nanosecond, Roman imagined making more of his injury, just to keep Jan nearby. He liked having her close, her hand on his skin and calling him by his first name. Even more, he appreciated the chance to look at her pretty face when she stood still like she was doing now. With some regret, he waved his hand to dismiss her concerns and entered the house, Jan right behind him. “Nope,” he assured her. “I’ve been nipped by dogs before. Plus I think he was going for my shoe, not the ankle.”

  He stood by her rickety Samsonite table, noticing the Barker file lying open beside her computer, but the letter she’d fainted over was nowhere to be seen. Damn. He hid his disappointment by saying, “Let’s get down to work. I’m on deadline with a project. “

  Her eyes on his ankle, she shook her head. “At least go wash off the scratch with soap so I don’t worry about infection. Please?”

  The direction she’d pointed in took him past two completely empty bedrooms. Where did she sleep? On the couch?

  As he took off his shoe, wet and soaped the corner of a washcloth and scrubbed the scratches, he remembered the feeling of her hands on his arm. The bathroom smelled of her exotic scent, which made him wonder if she’d dabbed her perfume between her breasts. He leered in the mirror, congratulating himself for his lucky glimpse inside her halter.

  Roman wiped off the soap to view the damage. The scratches framing his anklebone had bled, all right.

  “Band-Aids in the second drawer, middle cabinet,” she called from the hall.

  He didn’t need a Band-Aid, but he followed her directions, mainly because he wanted to learn more about the woman. At his core, he was nosy, and bathrooms held a wealth of information about their users.

  Quietly opening the top drawer, he saw tubes and bottles of mystery cosmetics. Did she use make-up? He conjured her expressive eyes and her full lips, lips designed for kissing, and forgot the question.

  Second drawer. Hmm. A teeth brightening kit. He considered her smile and her even teeth. A big bottle of pain reliever. Where was her pain?

  Calcium and vitamin pills. Good girl.

  Birth control pills. Middle of the month? Yup. Half gone. Did she live with someone in her Seattle condo? No ring on her finger. Once married?

  Bella had said Jan lived alone in this house. Clearly, if she slept here, she’d been using the couch. Why hadn’t she bought a bed? She said she’d soon shut the house and leave town. Wasn’t she coming back?

  A glance at his cuts and the Band-Aids told him a large one wouldn’t cover both wounds so he took two mediums. Double the sympathy. Maybe he should limp a bit, too.

  Roman was beginning to think of the dog as a potential partner.

  When he emerged from the bathroom, he followed the noises in the kitchen to find her pouring wine in a goblet, an empty one standing nearby. A guilt plate of cheese and crackers served with a worried look.

  “How bad is it, Roman?”

  Palm up to signal the bite wasn’t even worth commenting on, he grabbed some cheese and crackers, nestled them in a napkin, and accepted the glass of wine. She pointed to the lighted patio. Deciding not to add to her anguish, he walked normally as he headed outdoors, his eyes scouring the room for the black devil.

  “I put Elwood in one of the bedrooms so we can work in peace,” she said, following him to the umbrella table and chairs.

  While Roman surveyed the dark golf course, he noted Jan’s getting-down-to-work efforts. She took one sip of wine, flipped open the folder, speed-read a couple pages, then, pen in hand, looked up at him expectantly.

  “I’m curious,” he said, easing into the chair opposite her. He set his drink and food on the table and asked, “What did you do before event planning?”

  She put down the pen. “Marketing.” Delivered crisply: “HighTech. Stock options. Early retirement.”

  “You alluded to personnel problems on your old job. Care to expand?”

  “I thought you wanted to get down to business.”

  Distracted by the birth control pills and the absence of beds, he fumbled his response. “Business? Uhh. This is business. Think of it as a background check.”

  With a lift of her shoulder, she said, “My advancements at HighTech put me in charge of more and more people. Most of them, excellent employees. A few bad apples stole all my time.”

  He nodded, but privately wondered how easy she was to work with. It might be hard for others to match her energy level. She hadn’t stopped moving the whole time he’d been there. Even now she was straightening papers and shifting in her chair. Maybe the empty house thing was one example of a string of idiosyncrasies.

  When he made eye contact with her, she looked down at the paper in her folder. Okay, she was aware of him, but not interested. He let his ego absorb the blow as she said, “You’re on a tight schedule. Shall we get to work?”

  “Fire away.”

  She seemed to force herself to relax in her chair. “First, how do you think your grandmother’s doing?”

  “She’s antsy. Bella’s in her seventies, but she’s got more energy than I do. In fact, sh
e’s dying for you to ask for an interior design consult, partly to get her mind off Sidney, but also because she likes you so much. What you’re doing for Sid’s memorial is extremely important to her.”

  The smile she gave him, so genuine, so pure, filled him with warmth along with a crazy desire to think of more things to please her. Then, like a cloud moving across the sun, her smile dimmed and she said, “Thank you. Your part in eulogizing Sidney is important, too, Roman. These last weeks Bella’s had to watch life eke out of a once brilliant, energetic man. Our job is to replace the memory of those last days, reminding her of Sidney as he was for seventy-some years.”

  Roman rubbed his forehead, confused by his need to charm Jan and reluctant to get down to business. “When I saw my grandfather a month ago, we argued. Even bedridden, he was his old cranky self.” He grimaced. “Full of vitriol. He’d seen my documentary on Donald Rumsfeld and hated it. Tore into me like I’d committed murder.”

  Jan nodded, clearly waiting for him to address the memorial.

  He shook his head. “As much as I hate the thought of my grandfather dying, I feel just as bad about preparing a eulogy about him. How do I praise a man who was so irritating?” He held up his hand when Jan began to speak. “Sure he was kind to Bella and small kids, but to no one else.”

  “Including you?”

  “Double for me. He accused me of lying about men and women he revered, when all I did was expose the weaknesses that led to their missteps.”

  “And that’s what you do best.”

  “What?”

  “Expose the weaknesses of others.”

  “Not really, but—”

  “Enough. Your grandfather asked you to write his eulogy. What does that say?”

  “Torment. Getting the last laugh.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t a clue.”

  “I’m sure he expects you to research his life the way you handle your investigations. He chose you, so he knew the result he’d get.” She pointed to a list of questions. “Your research probes for the true picture of a person’s life. My questions do the same thing.”

  Roman peered at the list, skeptical about her approach. When he realized he was close enough to smell her perfume and see the flecks of beige in her brown eyes, he got rattled and sat back. “Read one or two for me, please.”

  Jan bent over the paper. “Umm, how about this one? ‘Who are the two or three people who knew Sidney best? What would they say about him?’” She raised her eyes from the paper and smiled. “I assume you aren’t one of the two or three, right? So we find them and talk to them about Sidney.”

  Roman nodded, aware he used the same technique in his research. He stared at her arms, firm and tanned, as Bella had described them. Beautiful arms, perfectly exposed in a filmy sleeveless shirt. “Uh, how about another question?”

  Brows knit, she gazed at him for a couple seconds before she ran her finger down the paper, stopped mid-page and read: “Based on his life experiences, what were his goals, his mission in life?”

  He was drawn to the armholes of her shirt, wishing they were bigger, wider…like the halter top she’d worn this morning. Hell, he’d take the wet T-shirt from this afternoon. He’d—

  “Roman?” Her question came with irritation.

  He cleared his throat. “You’re asking for a positive spin, aren’t you?”

  “Well—”

  “What about flaws? Weaknesses? Eulogies never expose those,” Roman said, palms on the table. Damn it, he didn’t want to talk about death and eulogies. Or maybe he could after he ran his hand up her arm and explored a bit around that armhole. He dragged his eyes away from the roundness of her shoulder. “I can’t lie. My grandfather was a bitter, judgmental guy all his life. He drove everyone nuts, especially me. But I’m not supposed to talk about that dominant aspect of his personality, am I?”

  She put her hand on her shoulder, and rubbed it, as if his scrutiny had made it itch. “These ceremonies are for the living, Roman. While you want to represent Sidney truthfully, you omit some things in consideration for the audience.”

  He rose, too agitated by the topic and too distracted by Jan to sit any longer. “Then Sidney picked the wrong guy.”

  Jan narrowed her eyes, seeming ready to disagree until she glanced at his ankle. After an audible sigh, she said, “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your work so I understand how you approach a documentary? Maybe I’ll get some idea about why Sidney picked you.”

  Feeling obstinate, he warned, “If I deliver this eulogy, I won’t ‘omit.’”

  With an indulgent smile, she leaned forward. “Tell me about the project you have to finish in a week.”

  At the thought of his tight schedule, he rubbed his eyes. “Harold M. Johnson. “Harry” Johnson, the Senator—”

  “I know all about him,” she interrupted. “My minor was International Studies at the University of Washington so I took lots of courses at the Johnson Institute.” Eyes alight, she said, “I was lucky enough to work with his wife on a HighTech charity thing. Georgette’s an amazing woman.”

  Roman nodded.

  “Have you heard of “Harry’s Troops?’”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ve been a member since I graduated from the UW. We still meet once a year, carrying on some of Harry’s pet projects.”

  Roman sensed trouble.

  “He was a great man, one of the finest politicians who ever served the State. The country, for that matter.”

  “No doubt about his influence. But he wasn’t without flaws. I have to disclose them.”

  “Of course he wasn’t perfect, but…”

  “I look for truth.”

  “Fairness?”

  “Accuracy. Unbiased,” he said.

  She gave him a direct stare. “I admit he wasn’t perfect, but why zero in on his flaws?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “It sells.” She leaned toward him, brows furrowed. “Let me guess. You’ll make a huge deal about Johnson voting to send Japanese-Americans to internment camps during World War II.”

  “Of course I will. I…” With her face so close to his, he lost his train of thought. Those were gold flecks in her brown eyes. Why did he think they were beige? Did irritation make them glitter?

  Squinting, she said, “You know he publicly apologized for his error.”

  “Years later. He was one of a mob of politicians who said they were sorry. Too late. Zero impact. The damage had been done.”

  He watched Jan’s eyes round along with her mouth, as if she’d read his mind.

  “Damn you!” she said, rising from her chair and shoving it so it almost flipped over. “You’re trying to prevent Johnson’s bust from being displayed in front of the Institute, aren’t you? That’s why you’re in a hurry to submit the script.”

  Roman shrugged. “His statue’s been virtually hidden in the building for twenty years, for good reasons, I understand.”

  She hoisted their empty wineglasses like clubs, her face rosy with anger. “Name them. Name the reasons the newspapers gave. Then dig deeper and find the real reasons.”

  “I’m not done researching Johnson’s life. I’ll admit that.” He paused for effect. “Exactly how much digging into my grandfather’s life have you done? Taking Bella’s word Sidney was a great man doesn’t qualify as ‘thorough’ research. And channeling the information through Elwood doesn’t count, by the way.”

  Jan clinked the empty wineglasses together as she stalked into the kitchen and put them in the sink. “I’ll find all the information I need on Sidney by gathering the facts from reliable sources. Which is what you’re supposed to be doing, too.”

  Roman followed her, the cheese plate in hand, fascinated by the way her body moved when she was angry. Muscles taut on her arms, her calves, her buttocks. This woman wasn’t fragile. What would she be like in bed—assuming she had one?

  “Hey!” she said.

  “What?” he asked, distracted
enough not to hear her. Did she even know how beautiful she looked in that moment?

  “I said it must be nice to sit in judgment on all the rest of us. Chances are while you pretend to support Bella, you’re investigating my dad and me. I’d say Sidney’s ‘irritating’ genes made the transfer to you.” She turned away from him to rinse the glasses.

  Roman and Sidney alike? No way. He was about to point out her error when she turned, eyes ablaze with a passion he desperately wished favored him. “I’ve decided Elwood’s got you pegged just right. I feel an urge to let him bite your other ankle.”

  Shit. How had his attempt to mend fences failed so miserably? And why was he turned on by a woman who was hopping mad at him? “I’m sorry, Jan. I—”

  She grabbed the dog leash and snapped it on Elwood. “My dog and I will escort you out. You and I are done. I’ll keep my promise to work with Bella, but I’m going to suggest she choose someone else to give the eulogy and organize the memorial. I agree with you that Sidney Keller won’t get a proper send-off with you in charge. Still, if Bella insists on retaining you as MC, I’m handing you off to my father.”

  ****

  Tess Barker knew she was driving too fast but she couldn’t make her foot ease on the accelerator. Punching the brake was as impossible as moving her hands on the steering wheel from their ten and two o’clock position. When she glanced at the fuel gauge, she was surprised to see the red arrow pointing to full. Ironic, because she knew her body was running on empty.

  The pressure of being the one Barker offspring left in town out of six kids was too much. Her brothers expected Tess to put a stop to their father’s memorial and the responsibility made her head hurt.

  Still, she had enough brain cells functioning to understand she had to wheedle the event planner’s address out of her mother. “Maybe I can help the woman, Mom,” Tess lied as she plucked Jan Solvang’s business card from her mom’s fingers. Pleased looks on the faces of her mother and the mayor’s publicist made Tess want to cry out in despair. How could she stop the monstrous memorial all by herself?