Everything Pales in Comparision Page 14

  Emma smiled and bent to her list. Fifteen minutes later she grabbed another Sprite from the refrigerator and headed outside.

  As she approached, Daina craned her head around. Her eyes dropped down to take in the items Emma carried, then rose once more. Emma stopped beside her.

  “Sprite?” she asked, holding out the can.

  Daina smiled that crooked little smile. “Sure.”

  Crouching down beside her, Emma passed the drink over.

  Popping the tab, Daina took a sip. “What’ve you got there?”

  “Grocery list.” She handed over the papers and pen. “Your turn.”

  Daina grinned. “Are we a little short on supplies?”

  “You could say that,” Emma replied with an answering grin.

  “All right then, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Daina gave the papers a shake and looked over Emma’s list. And then, with a little snort, she glanced over at her. “Pop-Tarts?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

  “I—” Emma began.

  “I’m just bugging you,” Daina said, her amusement obvious. She looked back at the lists. “Okay, well,” she said finally, “looks good so far.” She looked up, assuming a serious expression. “I approve of your choices.”

  “Except for the Pop-Tarts.”

  “Well, yeah, I have issues with that, but, you know, don’t let that bother you.” Daina reached for her Sprite, took a sip.

  Emma grinned and ducked her head, looking out over the sparkling surface of the pool. After a silence of a few moments, she said, “So.” And then, with a sidelong glance, asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just thinking…you know what would make me happy?”

  “What?”

  “If I could move my bed out here, poolside, like right over there.” Daina pointed to the far side of the pool. “I could be out here twenty-four/seven. And in the morning, when I woke up, I’d just have to roll over and fall into the pool.” She sneaked a glance at Emma and said, “It’s heated, you know.”

  Emma laughed.

  Daina grinned and then looked back at the papers she held. “I’ll get on this right away,” she said. “And yes,” she continued, raising her eyes, “I’m okay. I apologize for being so short with you, you didn’t deserve that. I was a little pissed off. But you’re very patient and very thoughtful, and I appreciate that.”

  Emma nodded in acknowledgment, but kept silent.

  Daina looked out over the pool. “I still think this is fucked up, though. I mean, keeping me in the dark when I’m the bloody victim, but what do I know?”

  Her words caused a twinge in Emma’s gut, but still she said nothing.

  “This,” Daina went on, making an inclusive gesture to indicate her surroundings, “has helped enormously. I could almost let all of that bullshit slide. Almost. But I’m offended and annoyed and I have too many questions to just let it go.”

  “I understand,” Emma said quietly.

  Daina looked at her. “Thank you.” Her expression became thoughtful. “You’re a cop; do you...know anything more than I do? To answer my questions, I mean.”

  “Oh, I...might.” Emma tried desperately not to flounder as she replied. “But...Michaels is really the one you should talk to. Look, I still have some things to do.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the house. “If you’ll excuse me?”

  “Of course, sure. I’ll get to work on this list so we can get some food in the house.” Daina paused, then finished with a completely straight face, “Even if it’s only Pop-Tarts.”

  Emma’s grin felt a little wooden as she rose and left. In the living room, she dropped onto the sofa, put her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands. I don’t think I can do this. She had to laugh at her pathetic excuse. What the hell had that been? I still have some things to do. Like what? Rearrange the furniture? As much as she had been thinking she would answer Daina’s questions if she asked, now that she had asked, she suddenly didn’t feel as if she could. The thing was, Michaels in his infinite wisdom had given her something in case this scenario should present itself.

  She reached into her back pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. It was a copy of the now infamous letter. Michaels had passed it to her when they had been alone, saying, Just in case. Emma had no idea what that meant. Just in case what? She needed proof? The whole situation was so patently ludicrous no amount of proof was going to make it any less so.

  She continued to hold the piece of paper. She could only imagine what Daina’s questions were, and she couldn’t think of a single thing she might say in response. With a sigh, she refolded the letter and shoved it back into her pocket. Cross that bridge when you come to it, she told herself.

  Feeling suddenly very tired, not to mention uncomfortable with the gun at her back, she got to her feet and went to her room. She removed the gun with the belt clip, and slid the weapon in between some clothes in her duffel bag. She stretched out on the bed. Her head no longer ached, but she almost wouldn’t have cared it if did. She closed her eyes, comfortable in the silence of the house.

  ***

  She was startled awake by the sound of the phone ringing. She was on her feet and heading for the door, when she heard Daina’s voice.

  She entered the kitchen just as Daina disconnected. She looked up almost guiltily at Emma’s sudden appearance, then held the cordless phone out like the culprit it was. “I had no idea they were going to call back. I’m sorry.”

  “Who was it?” Emma ran her fingers through her hair, feeling disheveled and out of sorts.

  “The grocery store, to confirm the address. I didn’t know they were going to do that. It scared the shit out of me.”

  “It’s all right, don’t worry about it.” Emma shook her head, blinked rapidly a few times. “They didn’t…ask your name or anything…did they?”

  “No, and I wouldn’t have given it anyway,” Daina assured her.

  Emma was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, I meant no offense. I don’t mean to imply—”

  “It’s okay, I’m not offended. And you implied nothing.” Daina flashed that patented crooked little grin of hers. “I may be a little hot-tempered but I can be sensible once in a while.”

  Emma dropped her eyes and looked away. That grin had the effect of loosening Emma’s moorings each and every time. Sliding her hands halfway into her pockets, she looked up and delivered a brief, almost perfunctory smile of her own. “I think I’d like to take a shower, wake myself up a bit. My sleep pattern is a little messed up. I’m still feeling a bit foggy.”

  The irony of the situation suddenly struck her. She grinned and puffed her breath out in somewhat shamefaced amusement. “Some bodyguard, huh?”

  “Hey,” Daina said, her tone and expression open and sincere, “I have no complaints.”

  “Well, maybe not yet,” Emma returned quietly, cocking her head and retaining the tiniest smile. “Just wait until you expect me to share my Pop-Tarts. Then we’ll see.”

  She saw the look of…what? Surprise? Amusement? And perhaps something else, forming on Daina’s face. But with an innocent look and smile, she turned and headed back to her room, content to leave on a lighthearted note when in truth she was feeling anything but.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  For as long as she could remember, Daina had always turned to music as a means of solace. Whatever was troubling her, whatever negative emotions she was feeling, whatever poisons they filled her with, music was her antidote. As a child, she would listen every chance she got to the radio or to her parents’ tape and LP collection. When she was twelve, they bought her her first guitar and she learned to create her own music. And that music became a tool which she used to dismantle the machines of self-destruction that often threatened to undermine her foundation and bring her to her knees. In music, she found strength and courage. And through music, she learned humility and grace.

  As Emma departed from the kitchen, Daina stared after her doubtfully, her look of amu
sement fading. Unless she was mistaken, she was almost certain the woman had been flirting with her, albeit very subtly. Was that possible? The situation which had brought them together and the circumstances that required they stay together provided a huge enough argument against any kind of personal involvement or attachment on Daina’s part. She was completely unprepared to even consider Emma’s motivations if she was flirting with her.

  “No,” she suddenly said firmly, as if refusing a party crasher entry to a private function. She abruptly turned on her heel and headed for her own room, all the while muttering, “No, no, no, no.”

  She grabbed her guitar case from against the wall and made her way back outside, where she noticed a little side table that would double quite nicely as a stool. Removing the instrument from its case, she plunked herself down and just sat there quietly for a few moments, cradling the wooden body against her own. And then she carefully tuned it by ear and began to play.

  She played tentatively at first, refamiliarizing herself with the guitar as if it were a lover’s body from which she’d been separated for too long. Her fingers picked out the simplest notes, the simplest melodies; she felt and she listened. And as she became more comfortable, and the instrument responded to her touch in the way she remembered, she let go of her inhibitions and allowed her passion free rein.

  She had no concept of the passage of time; she just played. Occasionally, she sang. She experimented with some combinations and riffs and fiddled around with some ideas that had been in her head for some time. She heard the phone ring distantly, but paid no attention to it.

  Some time later, she became aware of a feeling of being watched. She glanced back over her left shoulder. Emma stood behind the screen of the patio doors; with Daina’s attention on her, she slid open the screen door and came out to where she sat. She’d changed clothes; she now wore a pair of khaki shorts and a dark green tank top. And sandals.

  Nice legs, Daina thought. “Hey,” she said, by way of greeting.

  “Hey, yourself,” Emma returned with a small smile.

  Her hair was still slightly damp, Daina noted. The scent of shampoo, of clean, wafted to her. She breathed it in.

  “You play and sing beautifully. I could listen to you for hours.”

  Hours. The sentiment, coming from Emma, struck deep, and she was startled to feel herself blushing. She dropped her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, strummed an A, and looked up once more. “You realize, of course, I don’t believe you, since you did just interrupt me.”

  Emma smiled again, and sent her gaze off in the direction of the pool.

  And Daina thought that one of the singular, most rewarding things she was able to do at this particular point in time was to make Emma Kirby smile.

  “The groceries are on their way,” Emma said. “That’s why I interrupted you. I think I’d like you to remain unseen when they arrive.”

  “Oh. Do you think that’s necessary?”

  “I have no idea,” Emma admitted. “I just know it’s what I’m comfortable with.”

  “Oh. Well.” Daina gave her a doubtful look. “You’re not going to…send me to my room or anything…are you?”

  She was rewarded with a soft laugh from Emma. “No. I’ll save that for a more appropriate occasion.” A grin teased the corners of her mouth.

  “Okay, well, no problem,” Daina said, “I’ll head down to the basement, play a game of pool. I need the practice anyway.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Daina looked up from putting her guitar in its case, surprised. “For what? For looking out for me?” She snapped the case closed. “I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t think of it.”

  “It’s not an easy frame of mind to get into,” Emma said gently. “And it’s not an easy frame of mind to get out of.” She shrugged. “I’m just programmed to think that way, I guess.”

  Daina cocked her head at that and frowned, feeling an odd mix of curiosity and sympathy. The only sound she made was a polite, “Hmm.”

  She headed into the house. She reflected, as she returned her guitar to her room, that Emma Kirby was not an easy person to read. And in spite of her obvious reserve, she had a playful side that had shown itself on a few occasions already. Daina now thought it was entirely possible that she was confusing this less than overt playfulness with flirtatiousness. She knew how dangerous that could be.

  And then she had to laugh at herself. She had overlooked one crucial fact in her considerations, one very important detail: she had no clue as to whether Emma was gay or straight. The realization stopped her in her tracks.

  Oh, Christ, I am such an idiot.

  And then another thought occurred to her: she could ask. The boldness required for that had never been a problem in the past. With Emma, though, such audacity was daunting. Her relationship with Emma was tenuous at best. She wasn’t about to cause any friction. No, she couldn’t ask. And she wouldn’t.

  With that decided she went to the basement. She flicked on the lights, mostly track lighting, which accented the tastefully finished area nicely. The space, dominated by the pool table, was wide open and roomy like the rest of the house. There was a triangular seating arrangement off to one side, a sofa and a couple of chairs facing a TV, a DVD player, and a compact stereo system in an entertainment unit against one wall. She noted the mirrors and light wood paneling on the walls, the nondescript but tasteful framed prints, the soft lighting that bounced unglaringly off the light-hued walls. This room, like the rest of the house, had been designed to evoke comfort, and it accomplished that nicely.

  A girl could get used to a place like this. And then added, a tad cynically, There’s no place like home. Even if that home, temporary though it might be, was what basically amounted to a prison decorated with attractive accoutrements.

  She tuned the stereo to a local FM station, then made her way to the pool table. She turned on the overhead light to illuminate the table, surveyed the domain that was for the time being hers alone, and proceeded to rack the balls. She retrieved a pool cue from the rack on a nearby wall, chalked it up and eyed the table. This should prove interesting. She wasn’t even sure she was flexible enough to play a game of pool. Things felt a little tight as she leaned forward to break, but even so she managed to scatter the balls nicely.

  “Oh hell, I can do this,” she muttered confidently.

  She was a little out of practice and she’d never been a shark to begin with, but she’d always been able to hold her own. It took her about ten minutes to clear the table. During that time, she heard noises from upstairs and the sound of muted voices, but paid no heed and just continued with her game.

  Halfway into her second game, she was interrupted by Emma asking, “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?”

  She looked around, to see Emma at the foot of the stairs. With a smile, she asked, “Do you play?” She gestured toward the pool table with her cue.

  Emma gave a single nod. “I do.”

  Daina watched her approach. “Just what I like to see. Confidence.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not going to lose my shirt, am I?”

  Emma casually crossed her arms. “Not unless you misplace it at some point.”

  Daina grinned. “Okay, well, choose your weapon.”

  They played for an hour, both of them easy in the presence of the other, before Daina felt in sudden need of a rest.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Emma asked gently. “You look a little pale.”

  Daina smiled tiredly. “Yeah, I’m just fading. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to head upstairs. I need to lie down for a while.”

  “Do you need a hand up the stairs or—?”

  Daina was touched by Emma’s concern. “No, I’ll be fine, thanks.”

  Emma seemed less than happy with that response, and so Daina relented.

  “You can follow me up the stairs if you want, but I should be fine.”

  In the hall off the kitchen Daina again thanked Emma, and then retired
to her room. With the air-conditioning on, the house was cool, but there was a fleece blanket folded at the foot of the bed. She spread it out, then carefully stretched out on the bed. Snuggled beneath the blanket, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Emma returned to the basement after seeing Daina up the stairs. She turned off the stereo, dropped down onto the sofa, and turned on the TV with the volume muted. The room was comfortable, the atmosphere soothing; she was soon lost in her thoughts.

  For once she wasn’t berating herself. She was instead feeling rather pleased for comporting herself in a respectable, and respectful, manner. While it was no huge leap to do so, the situation she and Daina were in was unique. She warned herself not to become too friendly. The two of them had just spent a very pleasant hour together; she looked forward to more of the same. In fact, she was surprised and pleased at how thoroughly she had enjoyed Daina’s company and vice versa. But that had only been one hour. She had no idea how long they would be restricted to such a confined space; it was only a matter of time before tensions arose. She wasn’t kidding herself about that. She could only hope their time together was over long before that happened. Because once things started to unravel, she doubted she’d have a hope in hell of running any kind of damage control.

  Emma knew she would like to get know Daina, wanted to get to know her, and doing so might not be too difficult. But it relied hugely on trust, and the current situation had already thrown up an obstacle that if left in place for too long, could prove insurmountable, destroying any trust Daina extended to her.

  She frowned. If the deception was allowed to continue for too long, she would be in some very deep shit once the truth came out. The thought was troubling. Before it could take a strong hold, she shook her head impatiently, jolting herself out of her introspection. Turning her attention to the television, she reached for the remote, pushing any further thoughts to the back of her mind.