Chapter Seven

Roman’s plan not to think about Jan as more than a resource failed as soon as he pressed her door buzzer. The front stoop reminded him of his fall and her touch. Soft hands, long, slender fingers. She’d been soothing him, worried about his injuries, but to Roman, the contact had felt sexual, firing his pheromones.

When Walter opened the door, Roman wished Jan had been the one to greet him. As he entered the house, he listened for her step, her voice. He gazed at the wall next to the door where he’d hauled her into his arms and kissed her, the memory so vivid his chest tightened.

“She’s not here,” her father said, squinting as if Roman were a clueless Private. “She’s meeting with a client and furniture shopping. You’ll be gone before she returns.”

Roman told himself it didn’t matter while he checked for the Barker folder on her desk. No such luck. She must have taken it with her. Still, her computer sat open on her desk, the rainbow screensaver beckoning.

Raising an eyebrow at him as if he’d read Roman’s mind, Walter crooked a finger. “We’ll work outside. Only place with decent chairs.”

Walter led him through the living room to the patio, so they had to pass Jan’s couch. Her bed. Roman resisted the urge to feel the couch, wanting it to be warm from her slumber. If he lifted the cushion would he find her negligee stored there?

Wait. Was this a pullout bed affair?

When Walter’s back was turned, he checked.

No.

She slept on top. A one-person bed. No Frank. Maybe not for six months. Not here, anyway. Yet the birth control pills he’d seen in her bathroom were dialed right, so…

“Roman?”

“S…Sir?” Roman brushed his hand on the arm of the couch and joined Walter Solvang on the patio

“First name basis. Call me Walter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And before we get started, I want to thank you for stepping in front of my daughter last night when that crazy woman came at her.”

Roman nodded. They watched two golfers complete their second shots on the fairway of fourteen. Roman cleared his throat. “You know, the cops picked up Tess Barker last night and eventually took her over to her mother’s, but because Jan didn’t press charges, the woman is free, now. Jan shouldn’t be alone at night, sir.”

Walter gave him a sharp look. “Jan says the lady was grief-stricken. You think she’s a real threat?”

“I’d err on the side of caution, sir.”

“Appreciate the advice.” Walter motioned for him to sit down at the patio table. “I want to tell you what I’ve learned about your grandfather,” he said, in preamble. “After that, we’ll see what questions you still have.”

Roman realized he wanted answers about Jan, not Sidney. Still, the General’s mention of research bothered him. Why hadn’t he dug into his grandfather’s past to find out why Sidney had chosen him to deliver the eulogy? How come he didn’t have solid rejoinders for some of Jan’s assertions about Senator Johnson? Hell, Jan was a student at the Johnson Institute at the U of W, a perfect candidate for an interview about Harry. Why not jump at the chance to use her as a resource instead of regard her as a thorn in his side?

Could Jan be right when she accused him of subjectivity and unfairness?

Impossible.

Walter was talking. Roman registered the man’s precise manner of speech and deep, throaty laugh, so much like Jan’s. They both worked from notes, too. Well-prepared. Organized. Walter described an elaborate surprise party Sidney threw for Bella on her last birthday. Next he dived into a history of Sidney’s service in the Coast Guard, describing his love of patrolling the Pacific Coast.

Roman’s mind drifted to the picture of Jan bending over to fix a sprinkler head. What a sweet view. When she rose, soaked from nose to toe, her T-shirt outlining her full breasts and trim waist, Roman had said a silent thank you to the water gods.

“He was a leader, Roman. Sidney earned all kinds of awards worth mentioning at his memorial.”

Roman nodded, appreciating Walter’s homework. For sure, Sidney’s life as a young man and his philanthropy in retirement were worth noting. But what about the majority of his grandfather’s career, including the nasty way he’d treated Roman?

Keeping his pledge to listen politely, Roman remained foxholed while Walter, every inch a General, completed his assault, Roman attending with half of his senses while the other half waited for Jan to come home.

They went on to consider a list of memorial speakers when Walter picked up his phone, punched in numbers, said, “The coast is clear,” and hung up without waiting for a response.

Ten minutes later, Elwood came bounding out to the patio table, completely ignoring Roman and Walter. Thinking that was progress, Roman smiled and turned, anxious to see Jan.

He could tell from her frown she wasn’t expecting him to be there. Her arched eyebrow at her father signaled irritation. Walter smiled, indicating he wasn’t sorry.

“Jan,” Roman said, standing.

She recovered quickly with a polite smile and a gesture for him to resume his seat. “Roman. How’s the work going?”

“Fine,” Roman said.

“Badly,” said Walter.

Roman and Jan turned to him.

The old man stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the cement patio floor. “Mr. Keller still believes his grandfather’s bad traits overshadowed his good ones. He’s planning a negative eulogy.” Walter shook his head. “I can smell insubordination a mile away. This man’s not going to do what Bella wants or needs. He’ll destroy the service for her and other people who liked Sidney.”

Jan put her fist on her hip. “What am I supposed to do about it? Throw him in the brig? Slap him with a dishonorable discharge?”

Walter ignored Jan’s sarcasm, glaring at Roman. “I’ve given him everything I know about Sidney, but he hasn’t softened.” He tilted his head toward Jan. “You’ve got more influence on him than I do.”

“Me? How do you figure that?”

Walter waved his hand at Roman, clearly disgusted. “He’s been more interested in watching for you than listening to me. Since you’ve already captured his attention, I leave him to you.”

Roman was too stunned to speak. Could the old guy read minds?

Walter opened the door to the garage and peered out. He pivoted and drilled Jan with a look of pure satisfaction. “Appears you didn’t accomplish your objectives, either. Not one package in my old Volvo. Not a single stick of furniture ordered, right?”

Jan’s face reddened with embarrassment and she fiddled with her keys before she stuck her chin out and said, “I browsed and I got some ideas.”

Roman felt the need to come to her defense. “So many choices. Bella’s ready to help out. In fact she needs a project—”

Walter’s glare cut him off. “You’ll see me later.” The man about-faced smartly, marched out and slammed the door behind him.

Jan’s perturbed expression and a growl from Elwood reminded Roman of all his recent failures. He had upset Walter and their friend, Pete. Add a grandmother sorely disappointed in him and a producer begging for his finished script on Senator Johnson and Roman felt like growling, too. But it was Jan’s coldness that gave him the pit-in-the-stomach hollowness. Their kiss might have been accidental, but the warmth and the passion were real, weren’t they?

He said, “I’m off to Santa Barbara.”

Jan let Elwood out into the fenced yard and got busy washing off the kitchen counters. “I’ve got a full day ahead of me, too.”

“I’ll try to get back tomorrow or the next day.”

She shrugged as if to say she’d given up on him. He hesitated at the door, wishing she’d say something. Anything. But when she and the almost empty room remained silent, he left, closing the door quietly behind him.