One of Those Malibu Nights by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

charm. Every house was in a different style, from traditional picket fences to concrete modern. Telephone and utility wires still looped shabbily along the only street, unchanged since the forties, and several cars were usually in the process of being washed, only now it was the detail guys giving the Mercs and the Porsches the tip-top treatment. Kids Rollerbladed and uniformed maids walked the dogs, stopping for a chat with theMexican gardeners who kept the tiny expensive patches of lawn and the floribundas in immaculate shape. Joggers, looking as sweaty as any regular joggers, even though they were movie stars or just plain rich, trotted past, and vans delivering flowers and groceries lurched slowly over the speed bumps. It was like any other upmarket suburb in America.
    Roddy carried a bucket of water and a chamois leather out into the street, sloshing off the latest seagull deposits, cursing the birds under his breath. Pirate sat next to him hoping for a ride but today he was out of luck. Roddy dried the car off with paper towels, gave it a quick polish, emptied his bucket down the drain, then checked the car’s door. As he’d thought, it was open. He sighed. Mac never locked his car or his house. “Which of my neighbors is gonna steal my Prius?” he’d asked with a grin, and Roddy guessed he was right. Still, he checked the interior to make sure everything was okay.
    Smoothing his palm approvingly across the custom black leather, he opened the glove compartment, then took a quick breath.
    He was looking at a Sigma .40 handgun. Now he knew Mac never carried a weapon unless he was heading into dangerous territory, and he would certainly never leave one in the car. Anyhow, as far as Roddy knew, Mac’s only gun was a Glock semi. He had never seen him with a Sigma .40. Ever.
    Roddy put his polishing cloth over the gun, slid it fromthe glove compartment, put it in the empty bucket and carried it back into the house.
    In Rome, Sunny was lying on her back, gazing at the ceiling, a happy post-lovemaking smile on her face, her hand linked with Mac’s, when the phone rang. Groaning, she reached for it.
    “Pronto,”
she said, Italian-style. Then, “Oh, hi, Roddy, how are you? Good. Yes, great. It’s wonderful. Yes, Mac’s here, I’ll put him on.”
    Handing Mac the phone she propped herself on one elbow, watching him.
    “Hi, Rod,” Mac said lazily.
    Sunny saw him frown. She wondered what was going on.
    “Okay,” he said. “I know where the gun came from. Miss Naughty Angel. So wrap it in the chamois leather and leave it in the bucket under the sink. It’s as safe a place as any I guess, until I can give it back to her.”
    “Crafty woman,” he said to Sunny when he’d said goodbye. “Dumping the weapon in my car. Now I wonder why she did that.”
    Sunny got up. She put on a hotel white waffle-weave robe, took a bottle of water from the minibar and climbed back onto the bed. Unmade-up and with her long dark hair all tumbled Mac thought she’d never looked more lovely.
    “Why do I get the feeling I don’t know
everything?”
sheasked, giving him the keen amber long-lashed look he knew meant business.
    “I was going to tell you all about her, but somehow I got diverted.”
    She grinned forgivingly at him, upended the bottle and took a slug of the water. “Better tell me now. And make sure you tell
all.”
    Mac got up off the bed. “Can’t I even take a shower first?”
    She shook her head. “After.”
    “Okay,” he said, “so here’s what happened. And he told her about the Naughty Angel, about his visit with Perrin, and about the famous Allie Ray Perrin showing up on his doorstep.
    “The thing is that both Perrins believe they are being tailed. Allie denies she’s having him followed and he denies likewise. Either somebody is lying, or something else is going on. And it just might have to do with the redhead with the gun.”
    “Miss Naughty Angel,” Sunny said. “I’ll bet she’s