Page 36 of Don’t Go Stealing My Heart

“My husband forced me to watch Pet Sematary last night,” Imelda said as they walked. “Now I can’t look at Colonel Blue without seeing yellow eyes and sharp fangs.”

“That old dog is harmless.”

“Until someone brings him back from the dead.”

Clementine laughed. “I stick to mechanic and car auction shows. Less nightmare inducing.”

They also reminded her of her father. As an only child, before his depression had hit, Clementine had owned her father’s affections. She’d sit on their driveway, legs crossed, sun-scorched asphalt burning her thighs while he’d worked on his car. Torque wrench. Ratchet extender. Nut splitter. She’d learned every tool used, passing them without hesitation, not a care to the grease on her hands. The memory made her smile.

“Don’t tell my husband you watch those shows,” Imelda said. “It will give him ideas, and car auctions sound worse than half-dead cats.”

They walked and talked and joked, Imelda stopping periodically to scratch Colonel Blue’s ears. They chatted about movies and books, easy impersonal topics. That didn’t make the time any less meaningful.

By the time their walk ended, the sky was crazy dark, and Jack hadn’t showed. There was nothing to do but follow her plan. “I’m heading toward the David estate. I could drop the Colonel for you.”

Imelda waved her hand. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t, and I don’t mind.” Clementine Abernathy, con artist, had returned. She was never far, after all, but this cloying guilt was new. Still, she persisted. “It’s Sunday. Your family must be at home, waiting on you.”

A large oak tree swayed in the rising winds. A few leaves drifted downward as Imelda glanced at her car. “You sure it wouldn’t be a bother?”

“None at all. As long as the Davids wouldn’t mind.”

“That family’s as kind as kittens. I just don’t wanna put you out. Unless…” She smirked and planted her fist on her hip. “Are you hoping for a run-in with handsome Jack?”

Clementine rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.” And kind of right. Jack David. Van Gogh. She had two works of art on her mind.

Imelda was all smiles now, pushing the leash into Clementine’s hand. “Go on, then. Take Colonel Blue home, where you won’t be looking for his human brother. And I expect details this time, honey. None of this locked mouth nonsense.” She blew Clementine a kiss as she jogged to her car. “And do it before it pours. The sky’s gonna rip open.”

A rumble sounded, confirming Imelda’s prediction.

Hunched to fight off the chill, Clementine coaxed the Colonel to her Prius and helped lift the old pup inside. This was it. She’d finally secured her ticket into the David estate. Excitement should’ve been coursing through her. Confusion abounded instead. She wasn’t sure what she’d do once she located that Van Gogh. She wasn’t sure what she’d do when she saw Jack again.

The rains held off, but the clouds hung lower. Shadows pressed on her car as she drove. Clementine navigated the winding drive into the David estate and gawked at the sheer size of it. The sprawling lawn was immaculate, normally tended by Marvin the Mower, who also fed Jack’s reptiles. She liked knowing these details, little nothings that made her feel like she was on the inside: Imelda’s daughter struggled with math, Jack’s grandfather had been a roadie for Elvis, Tami had loved her husband since tenth grade. To her, those nothings felt like a whole lot of somethings.

She drove around a central fountain and parked in front of the entrance’s stone steps. Where Jack’s stunning bungalow was understated in its design, blending with its landscape, this mansion was designed to impress. Old-world stone and brick dominated the grounds, the prominent windows rising into triangular peaks. The front shrubbery was low, never distracting from the estate’s power and wealth. The building was wide enough to house a football field.

She hadn’t asked Jack why David Industries had recently fired employees. Admitting that knowledge might have prompted questions. Sitting here, though, absorbing the obscene property in all its ornate glory, she couldn’t help the distaste that surfaced. Sell this monstrosity, and his family could have saved those jobs, quadrupled everyone’s salaries.

“You live quite the charmed life. Don’t you, Blue?” The old dog’s stinky breath drifted from her backseat. Spoiled pup didn’t know how good he had it. “Come on, then. You’re my ticket in.”

She helped him from the car and grimaced at the dog hairs sticking to her clothes. It was a treat that Lucy didn’t shed. No cars lined the drive, anyone here likely having parked in the massive four-car garage. She led the Colonel up the front steps, unsure what would greet her. A butler? A maid? This place probably employed ten of each.

She stood in front of the massive wooden doors and searched for a doorbell. She rang it and gripped Blue’s leash. The sky went from dark to foreboding. Another grumble rolled from the clouds. She rubbed her arms and rang the bell again.

Footsteps thumped from the opposite side, followed by a “coming.” She rolled her shoulders back and plastered a smile on her face. The door creaked open a fraction. Jack filled her field of vision, sending her heart into pitter-patter land, until he frowned.

Her smile slipped.

He didn’t open the door wider. “Why are you here?”

Seriously? He had ditched her and that was all he had? “Nice to see you, too.”

He winced, rightfully so. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you.” He reverted to limited eye contact, his shifty gaze dropping to her not-warm-enough jogging attire. “I missed our run, didn’t I?”

She shrugged, pretending the slight didn’t sting. “No biggie. I met Imelda and Colonel Blue.” She lifted the leash. “She had family stuff today, so I offered to drop him home.” A raindrop smacked the stone step, punctuating her not-quite lie.

Jack didn’t reply. He didn’t explain this morning’s absence or open the door and invite her in. If anything, he seemed bothered she was there. His dismissal shouldn’t hurt. She shouldn’t long for a man this careless with her feelings. They’d only kissed, after all. And she’d done nothing but lie to him. She had no right to feel scorned.