I knew her mother. She and Adam had only been divorced four years, and Adam had lived behind me for almost seven. "What did she say?"
"That he was to fly me back to Eugene on the first flight home and never darken her doorstep again." She touched her lips. "She does it on purpose, you know. Tries to make him feel bad, like he's an animal. If that doesn't work, she brings up her four miscarriages as if they didn't hurt him as much as they hurt her. As if everything is his fault. And he buys it every time. I knew what she was going to do, so I made them let me listen in on the extension. I think he was just going to agree with her and send me back, so I said some things that maybe I shouldn't have."
I didn't ask, just waited. She could tell me if she wanted to. Apparently she did.
"I told Dad about her boyfriend who tried to climb into bed with me when I was twelve. And the time two years ago, when she left for a weekend in Vegas without telling me she was going anywhere. It got pretty ugly."
"I'm sorry."
She lifted her chin. "I'm not. Mom agreed to let me stay here for the rest of the school year, then they'll talk. Anyway, Warren's out waiting for me in the car-Dad said it would be a long time before he could contemplate leaving me alone-at least a week. I have a request for you."
"What did'ja need?" I asked.
"Dad asked me to stop in and see if you'd come to dinner. Somewhere expensive, 'cause we owe you."
"I'll close up here so you can go clean up," Zee said a little eagerly. I hadn't been that whiny. Really.
"All right," I said. "You can pick me up at-" I started to twist my right wrist, winced and remembered I'd put my watch on my left wrist that morning. It was almost four. "Six-thirty."
"He'll be there," she said, and waltzed back into the office to flirt with the help.
"Go," said Zee.
It wasn't that easy, of course. I introduced Gabriel and Zee, then puttered around getting things finished until nearly five. I grabbed my purse out of the safe and started out the door when my undercover friend pulled up in the parking lot driving a black and shiny eighties convertible Mustang.
"Tony," I said.
He was still in his ubermacho guise, I noticed, as he sprang out of the car, over the door. The opaque black sunglasses disguising his eyes made him look menacing and sexy.
"Your engine is missing," I told him.
"Funny"-he gave his car an implacable look-"it was here just a minute ago."
"Ha-ha," I said. My arm hurt, and I wasn't in the mood for stupid jokes. "Get someone to check your engine."
"What did you do to your arm?" he asked.
I remembered Jesse's method of telling the whole truth, and said, "I got knocked into a bunch of wooden crates by a werewolf while I was trying to rescue a young girl from the clutches of an evil witch and a drug lord."
"Ha-ha," he said in the exact same tone I'd given his joke. "Must have been something stupid if you won't tell the truth."
"Well," I said, considering it, "maybe 'drug lord' was too strong a word. And maybe I should have mentioned the girl's handsome and sexy father. What do you think?"
"Mercy," he said, taking my good arm and turning me around so we were walking back into the office. "We need to talk."
"Can't talk," I said. "I've got a date."
"Nice try. But you haven't had a date since I met you." He opened the door and escorted me inside.
Gabriel looked up from my… his paperwork and the pleasant smile on his face went away.
"What are you doing here?" he said, standing up and coming around the corner. "Let her go. Now."
Great, I thought. Just what I need, another macho male in my life trying to take care of me.
Tony dropped my arm and collapsed onto one of the uncomfortable chairs I use to encourage my customers to find something else to do rather than wait around while I fix their cars. He buried his face in his hands and either started laughing or crying. I figured he was laughing.
When he raised his head, he'd done one of those amazing changes-partially helped, I have to admit, by losing the sunglasses. But it was body language and facial expression, as much as anything. He just suddenly looked ten years older and, except for the earrings, much more respectable.
"Tony?" said Gabriel, obviously stunned.
"I've been working undercover at Kennewick High right under his nose," Tony told me. "He never even noticed. I told you most people can't recognize me."
"I've never argued with that," I said. "I think you're a good undercover cop."
Tony shook his head. "Hey, Gabriel, would you give us a minute alone? I have some questions for Mercy."