Janet Evanovich - Foul Play

“Not a nice mental image, is it?”

“I feel like I need a shower. Geez, you should have seen them groping at each other.” Amy made a face. “Not very romantic.”

Jake turned onto the highway. “I suspect romance isn’t an important part of their relationship.”

Oh hell, he thought, watching Amy. She was comparing what she’d seen in the window to her own little groping session in the car. She stared stonily out the front window, a small frown hovering in her eyebrows, her mouth compressed.

In retrospect, their one shot at unbridled passion didn’t exactly score a ten on the romance scale, Jake decided. In fact, now that he thought about it, there wasn’t anything romantic about their relationship at all. He’d met her in the supermarket; she’d run him into the ground on the jogging trail; and now he’d practically jumped her bones in a cramped two-seater sports car… in a public parking lot. Wow. Amy deserved better than that.

Of course, he had brought her a rose that first morning. He breathed a small sigh of relief. He wasn’t completely without points. He wasn’t a total clod.

He took Amy’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Amy, what you saw in that window doesn’t have anything to do with us. People have sexual encounters for a variety of reasons.”

“What was the reason for our… encounter?”

What was the reason? He loved her. How could he tell her that? He’d sound like an idiot. How can you love me? she’d say. You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know my birthday, my favorite color, my ring size. How can you love me when we’ve never discussed politics, or gone to a hockey game, or been to a bakery together. Maybe we have totally different tastes in doughnuts. Jake swallowed. “Do you like Boston creams?”

Amy blinked at him. “Um, yeah.”

“There! You see, we have something in common.”

“You mean, I almost lost my virginity because we both like the same pastry?”

“Well, there’s more to it than that. There’s mutual respect, and experiences shared, and emotional involvement.”

Amy sank deeper into her seat. “What emotion did you have in mind? Lust?”

Jake had to admit there was a fair share of lust. “Lust would be one of them.”

“Lust,” Amy repeated. “It’s such an ugly word. There’s no music to it, no depth.”

“You’re right. Lust is out. How about passion? Libidinous desire, sensual appetites, erotic hunger? Personally, I like libidinous desire. There’s a lot of lip action on that one.”

Amy smiled. He was teasing her, trying to lighten her mood. Trying to weasel out of a serious discussion. Avoiding a verbal commitment. She couldn’t blame him. They’d only known each other a few days. She couldn’t expect him to be in love with her… even though she suspected she was in love with him. “Ridiculous,” she said.

“Okay. Ridiculously libidinous. How’s that?”

He pulled the car into the clinic parking lot and stared dumbstruck at a squad car. “Now what?”

“Attempted break-in,” the police officers told Jake. “We’ve got our report. We were just leaving. Good thing you have a night attendant. He really used his head.”

Jake looked at the college student he’d hired. A purple bruise was forming on his forehead. “Are you all right?”

The boy touched his hand to his head and grinned sheepishly. “I thought I heard someone in the parking lot, so I came in the front room to investigate. I tried to look out the little window in the top of the door, and wham, the door opened and bonked me in the head. Whoever it was, they took off before I could get to them.”

“Were they in a car?” Jake asked.

“I think so. That was what I heard in the parking lot. A car. But I never actually saw it.”

“How long ago did this happen?”

“About a half hour ago,” the boy replied. “At least they didn’t get any more animals.”

Jake looked puzzled. “Yeah. You did a good job. Would you like to go to the emergency room? Get that bruise looked at?”

The young man shook his head and brushed his sandy-colored hair out of his eyes. “I’m fine. I’d rather stay here. I’m studying in your office. This is a great job. I get paid for studying.”

Jake looked at Amy, rifling through the files. “Did you get the address?”

“Yes. It’s not far from here.”

“It wasn’t Turner,” Jake said when they were in the car. “He was in his house when the break-in attempt occurred. I guess it could have been Veronica Bottles, but it doesn’t add up. Why would she want to get into the office?” His voice rose an octave. “There’s no possible reason for her to want to get into the office.”

“Maybe she left something there. A clue. Maybe she returned to the scene of the crime to get rid of the evidence.”

“You’re starting to sound like Miss Marple. Finally getting into this detective stuff, huh?”

“Turn right at the stoplight,” Amy directed. “She lives in the apartment complex at the bottom of the hill.” She studied the building numbers and pointed to a parking space. “Here. I have to admit, this gets curiouser and curiouser. I never thought there’d be a second break-in.”

“I almost rented an apartment here,” Jake said. “They’re just like mine, except they don’t have a little patch of woods behind them.”

“I’m surprised they’d allow her to have a rooster. Don’t those things cock-a-doodle bright and early every morning?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, “and I’ve never known a rooster that was potty trained. When we get into her apartment you should watch where you’re stepping.”

“When we get into her apartment? No. Not me. That’s very illegal.”

Jake parked and hauled Amy out of the car. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

Jake found the correct door number and looked around. He took a credit card from his wallet and inserted it between the door and the jamb.

“That’s against the law!” Amy said.

“Nonsense. The police taught me how to do this. They wouldn’t teach me to do something illegal. It must only be illegal if you intend to steal something.” The door swung open.

“Jacob Elliott! Don’t you dare go into that apartment.”

“I don’t think it’s breaking and entering, because I didn’t break anything. Are you coming?” he called from the hallway. “I wouldn’t stand out there with the door open if I were you. It looks suspicious.”

Amy put her hand over her heart and crept into the apartment. “I’m too young to go to jail. I’m just beginning my life, for crying out loud.”

Jake closed the door behind her. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise I won’t let them take you away until you’ve… lived a little.”

Amy gave him a black look. “You should be ashamed of yourself. A man of medicine. Isn’t this against your Hippocratic oath?”

“I didn’t take a Hippocratic oath. I said the pledge of allegiance under a picture of Dr. Dolittle. And he’d approve of me looking for Red.”

Jake walked through the living room, dining room, bedroom, and kitchen. He looked in the closets, in the cupboards, in the refrigerator.

“This is strange. There’s absolutely no sign of a rooster having lived here. No rooster food. No cage. No rooster paraphernalia of any kind. That stuff costs money. If it were me, I’d wait a while before I got rid of it. I’d make sure the rooster wasn’t coming back.”

“Maybe the rooster never lived here. Maybe she kept it someplace else.”

“I suppose that’s possible…”

Jake and Amy froze at the sound of a key being inserted in Veronica Bottles’s front door. “Oh hell,” Jake whispered, pushing Amy into the bedroom. “Under the bed!”