Page 98 of A Dead End Wedding

I yanked my head up, heart pounding, as a car raced into the parking lot and swerved to a stop in front of me. I recognized Jake's Mustang about a heartbeat before I started screaming.

He stepped out of the car, and the look on his face didn't bode well for the person who had made him mad. I tried not to notice how well his t-shirt clung to his chest and biceps, which made me wonder about the kind of woman who notices things like that in the middle of a crisis.

A desperate woman, maybe.

Another man climbed out of the passenger side and stretched. He was tall, with a blonde crewcut and a long, lanky body. His navy-blue shirt said Brody Investigations over the pocket. He nodded at me, and I started to say hello when Jake ambled over to stand next to me and stare at my car.

He blew out an enormous sigh. "Hello, Counselor. What happened this time? Are you okay?"

I blinked. "Do you have some kind of video surveillance set up in my parking lot? How did you even hear about this? And aren't you going to introduce me to your associate?"

"Police scanner, Vaughn. You were all over it tonight. We heard about the junkie lawyer with the great legs, and I didn't even need to hear your name to know you'd gotten tangled up in some new trouble."

"First off . . . great legs? Um, thanks." I felt my cheeks heat and wondered why I always felt off balance around this guy. "Er, anyway, how is this my fault? Somebody paints nasty phrases – some of which are anatomically impossible, by the way – all over my car, and I'm the one getting tangled up?" I brushed past him to introduce myself to his colleague. I'd spent too many years at law firms being ignored to be rude to anybody else.

"Hi. I'm December Vaughn, as your rude friend may have told you."

"Wrench Carter. Pleased to meet you. By the way, that expression on the back of your caristechnically possible. You just need to use a lotta lubrication and four pillows. Ya see, first?—"

"Stop!" I said, staring at him, with my lips curled clear back off of my teeth. "It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Carter, but I am not exactly in the mood for descriptions of techniques for an act that's probably illegal in all fifty states."

"Maybe not California," Jake said.

I whipped around and glared at him. He was leaning against the wall, lips clamped together and shoulders shaking. "Right. You're a lot of help. If you don't mind, I have pictures to take. Then I have to figure out what to do with my car."

Just then, the door opened and Max walked out, fumbling with the camera. "Sorry it took me so long, D, but I couldn't find the?—"

She looked up, saw Jake, and stopped dead. "Brody. What are you doing here?"

He stood up away from the wall. "Wrench and I thought we'd lend a hand."

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed that old expression, "the blood drained out of her face." But Max turned as white as the pages of my new legal pads as she slowly turned and saw Wrench.

Puzzled, I glanced at Wrench. His face had done a similar blood-drain trick. "Max? Is it really you? I thought you'd left town after . . ." he said.

I looked at Jake, but he seemed as mystified as I was.

Max stood there, staring at Wrench. "I . . . no. Well, I . . . kind of. Even . . . later. We can talk about it later." She almost visibly pulled herself together. "Right now, we need to deal with December's car. Can you two help?"

Jake stepped forward and gently took the camera out of her hands and held it out to Wrench. "All taken care of, Max. December is going to ride with me, and we're going to follow you home if you think you're not too shaken to drive. Once you're safely inside, I'll take her home." He looked at me. "Unless you'd rather go to your aunt and uncle's house tonight?"

I hadn't thought any further than getting the car fixed. "Um, no. I should go home. As it is, I'm going to have to call her in case somebody else was listening to the scanner and called her with the good news that her least-favorite niece is in trouble again."

Max rolled her eyes. "You're her only niece."

"Well, whatever. But first I have to deal with the car."

"No, you don't," Jake said. "Wrench is going to document the damage, then take care of getting the car to the shop for you. Tomorrow's Saturday, but I'll drive you to work in the morning if you want to come in to the office. Your car should be good as new by tomorrow afternoon."

I looked at him, trying not to look a gift detective in the mouth, but my basic cynical nature popped up at the worst times. "Um, thank you, but I don't want to be a bother. I can call a cab. And, anyway, why would you do all this for me?"

He grinned. "It's your charming nature, Counselor. I can't resist all that sweetness and light."

"Is that okay with you, Max?" I asked, too tired to resist the help. I worked the car key off my ring and handed it to Jake.

"Fine," she said, casting another glance at Wrench, who'd started taking pictures of my new paint job. "I'd be glad of an escort home, to be honest. This whole evening has me pretty freaked."

As I climbed into Jake's car, clutching my briefcase like a shield, he stopped to talk to Wrench, and gave him my key, then he slid into the car. I snuck a glance at him and tried for humor. "You don't have any ulterior motive for going all knight-in-shining-armor on me, do you?" Flirtation was way beyond me right then, but I tried to smile.

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