CHAPTER FIVE

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Carlton closed the door to the conference room while Victoria was selecting a chair, thinking in one big jumble ItoldJulietEmilydumpedmebecauseofher, nowsheknowsaboutManda, IKNOWthatwasoutrageIheardwhileIwasfleeing and whatthehellisVICTORIAdoinghere?

And loudest of all, Juliet ended it with Spencer. She ended it with him. Ended. It.

It wasn't just a spat. She moved out. She ended it.

He sat across from his ex-wife and dredged up a smile. "What brings you by?"

Victoria flipped her hair over her shoulder; he could see she was still having it professionally colored, but it looked reasonably natural. Her gaze was even and yet a little… knowing.

Meeting that gaze impassively, he thought again that her eyes could be blue or gray or green—he'd never really been sure what color they were, which dovetailed nicely with all the other things he'd never been sure about with her. Four rocky years of marriage and close to three years of separation before the divorce and sometimes he couldn't even remember when he believed he'd known her at all, let alone known her enough to love her and want to marry her.

Ah, the good old days. When you still thought you belonged with Victoria, had just been professionally burned by Spencer because of your screw-up with Lucinda, and had absolutely no idea that your next partner was going to capture your useless heart and keep it locked up tight forever.

"You look good, Carlton."

Her voice was still smoky, one of the things he'd liked about her. But he still didn't know why she was sitting in this room right now. "Somehow I doubt that's what you came here to say."

Victoria was amused. "No, but you do. Age is settling on you very well—I see a little of Cary Grant and a little of—"

Carlton cut her off. "If the next name out of your mouth is going to be Mr. Bean, Tony Randall or the Scarecrow, I don't want to hear it."

Now she chuckled. "Actually I was going to say George Clooney."

He could feel his eyebrows shooting up. "Ah. Thanks. So… why did you say you were here?"

Victoria was still smiling, as if she understood him, but if there was one thing about her he was completely sure about, it was that she didn't understand him at all: never had, never would.

"Try to relax, Carlton," she said kindly. "It's been a few years since our last meeting. I'm just saying you look good and it's nice to see you. I thought we parted on good terms."

Standing in the restaurant looking down at her, swearing he'd let her go because that's what she wanted—not what he wanted, not then—were those good terms?

Well, in fairness, he supposed they were better than the years which preceded them.

Letting out a breath, he sat back in the chair and crossed his arms. "Okay. I guess we did. But you were never in the habit of dropping by the police station before, so I'm understandably curious."

She flipped hair over her shoulder again and he wondered if it was a nervous habit she'd picked up. "I… all right, I'll just jump in. I have a situation in my neighborhood and I was hoping you could give me some advice about it."

"I'm listening."

With part of his brain. The rest of it was still lost in Juliet is single and shut up it's still not going to happen and but if she ended it with Spencer and recently kissed you then… and ENOUGH NOW, you idiot whackaloon.

"It's the house next door to mine. I've been hearing some… odd noises, at odd times, and I guess I just want someone to tell me whether to worry or not."

"What does your husband think?"

Blinking, perhaps at the bluntness of the question, Victoria smiled slightly. "That… marriage didn't… take."

Carlton surprised himself by passing up the opportunity to be snarky. "What kind of noises have you been hearing?"

"Well…" She seemed embarrassed. "Screams?"

"Is that a question?"

A flicker of annoyance lit her eyes, but vanished quickly. "No. They're screams. Cries. Moans. It's disturbing."

"Who lives there?"

"That's the thing. It's just this old man. He's in his seventies, he walks with a cane, he seems to be in good health when I see him out in his yard. He doesn't drive, and his family all lives out of state. I don't think he gets many visitors."

Carlton kept his tone even. "You're sure the noises come from his house?"

"Definitely. The lot next to mine is empty and he's on the corner."

"And the houses behind yours?"

"The… properties are very large," she said almost apologetically.

Yes, Victoria, I know your second marriage was to a wealthy man. I remember your disappointment that I couldn't bring pots of money home every night. I have a nice long memory, thanks.

"What time of day do you hear these noises?"

"Late. After nine or ten o'clock usually. Not every night." She went on in a rush, "It's not the TV, either. If it were, I'd hear other sounds too."

He'd give her that. "Have you ever talked to him? Or maybe someone in the neighborhood association?" Because no way would she live in a neighborhood which didn't have a neighborhood association, and he further assumed it was a gated community, because, duh, divorced or not, Irving Parker wouldn't let his baby daughter go without luxury.

Victoria seemed helpless now. "He's the president."

Carlton couldn't conceal the tiniest of smiles. "All right—and please don't think I'm making light of your problem—what you're telling me is that you're hearing strange noises from the home of a man who appears to be healthy, who has no visitors or family, and presumably is unlikely to be serial killer material unless he's got ninja skills with his cane."

"I knew this was a mistake," she muttered.

Should have thought of that before you came over, Tori.

And by the way, I never liked calling you Tori. It felt fake.

But in the next second, she became earnest again. "Carlton, I swear I'm not crazy. These screams… these cries… they're creepy as hell. Either something's going on in that house or… I don't know. But it's really getting to me. Please tell me what to do, not as my annoyed ex-husband but as an officer of the law."

Damn her for hitting below the belt. Now he had to take her seriously.

"Okay, okay. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be here without good reason." He got out his notebook. "What's the guy's name?"

"Ted Ridgway." She gave him the address. "Thank you. You should…"

Carlton looked up. "I should what?"

"You should really come hear the noises yourself. I know it's not the TV but I suppose it could be something else. I've been overthinking it so long that maybe I really don't know what I'm hearing."

He debated the possibilities. On the one hand, it would be privately delightful to discover the source of the noise was just a squeaky window; on the other hand, he was supposed to be mature enough to avoid snickering. And maybe the guy was up to something nasty. Apart from the general appeal of apprehending someone like that, it was also his job.

Of course, he could simply have a patrol car hang out in the area and respond the next time she heard the noises.

Or he could just suck it up and go over there. After everything else over the last few days, spending half an hour at his ex's place wouldn't kill him.

Much.

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. . . .

Juliet shamelessly watched the two of them in the conference room. She had to take up a position over by Carlton's desk—since standing at the window staring over the top of the coffee bar would have been a little too obvious—but she could see Victoria reasonably clearly.

So that's what she looks like. Going for the understated elegance look. She guessed Victoria was Carlton's age, no younger, definitely not younger and why do you sound so satisfied about that she asked herself, then ignored the question completely in favor of continuing to shamelessly watch them.

Carlton's body language, as much as she could tell through the open blinds, was "suspect-relaxed." It was the way he looked when he wanted a suspect—who didn't know him—to think everything was peachy.

So everything wasn't peachy.

She smiled.

But then he sat back, and Victoria smiled, and they stood up and came to the door. Juliet darted back over to her desk and as they passed—that's right, escort her heart-stomping butt out of here—she heard clearly, "… eight-thirty tomorrow night?" from the heart-stomper.

To which Carlton replied easily, "Fine."

The heart-stomper said with another smile, "I still make a mean apple crumble."

And she could see Carlton turn to her and smile back.

This was turning out to be a very very very bad day.

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Returning to his desk, and marveling at the look of sympathy leveled at him by Patricia Allen—who didn't even like him—once Victoria was out the door, Carlton glanced over toward Juliet's desk. She wasn't in sight, and he wasn't sure whether this was bad or good.

He was sure he wanted to see her.

As if conjured up by his thoughts, she exited Karen Vick's office and headed down the hall, nodding at him neutrally but staying on her side of the bullpen.

His phone buzzed; text from the Chief : My office. Discreetly. ASAP.

In a fairly smooth move, he gathered up some reports he knew she wanted to see anyway and strolled down to her office, where Karen immediately rose from her desk and came to him with an open folder.

"Don't close the door; let's just stand here and point to very interesting items in these reports." Her voice was low and her expression was all about the I-Will-Find-Out.

Oookay… he stood next to her with one open folder, and she did the same. "What's up?"

"O'Hara just came in, and in under thirty seconds announced that she and Spencer were quits and she would prefer that the two of you not have to work with Psych any time soon. Insights?"

Carlton looked down at her, forgetting to hide his surprise until she cleared her throat. "Oh. Well," he began, pointing at a line in the open report about vandalism, "She only told me over lunch. She's been looking kind of run-down the past few weeks and I noticed he hadn't been around but she never said anything."

Tapping the word "statistics" meaningfully, she said, "Is he going to be a problem?"

He spotted the word "probability" and tapped that. "One can only assume. But I don't know the specifics, and for the love of all that is holy, please don't ask me to find out."

Running a fingertip along a sentence about "due diligence," Karen smiled tightly. "Not at this juncture. But don't rule it out. I saw her name in the overtime list. Is that about occupying her time or having extra money?"

Ah, there it was: "fiscal responsibility." He tapped the phrase and closed the folder. "I think judging by his behavior with Guster's finances over the years, she might be low on funds. I'm sure their rental house cost a lot more than her last apartment."

You want to tell Karen you offered Juliet your spare room? And related to this, has there ever been a medical study as to exactly how far a person's eyes can roll back in her head?

Karen closed her own folder. "Well, I'll allow overtime up to a point, but you and I both need to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't overdo it."

"I always have my eye on her," he said simply, and she nodded.

When he returned to his desk, Juliet immediately deposited herself in the chair next to it. "So that was Victoria?"

Carlton judged her to be tense but… tense. "Yes. You met her before, didn't you—oh, maybe not." It was only Victoria's 'charming' father Juliet had encountered.

"No, not. What did she want?" Still tense. Her dark blue eyes were fixed on him relentlessly.

"She's hearing strange noises from the house next door. Wants me to come take a listen."

Juliet frowned. "She couldn't just, you know, call 'the' cops? She had to come see you in person?"

He shrugged. "Better the devil you know?"

"What about the devil you know?" she retorted. "I never met her, but I felt like I got to know her, and I sure didn't like her father. Why would you give her the time of day?"

"Uh… because I'm the better man?"

For a second she seemed amused, but then she was back to tense. "You are the better man, but you could easily delegate this to someone else."

Tugging at his collar briefly until her gaze went to his neck and he remembered the infernal hickey, he studied his partner and tried to figure out what her deal was.

No luck.

"Look, the one good thing out of all the drama with Victoria back then is that as little I was liked, the people around here liked her even less, and she knew it. Now, I hope to God that not one employee of the SBPD would ever give her less than quality service when called upon, but I can understand her reluctance to take a chance."

A frown marred her expression. "But that was years ago. Who even remembers her?"

He felt one eyebrow go up without his permission. "Well, you do, and you never even met her. Why are you so aggravated about her today?"

Juliet stood up, smoothing her skirt. "She hurt you, Carlton. I know it was a long time ago but she hurt you. So I don't like her."

With that she walked off, leaving him staring after her in wonder.

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They were parked across from the hospital, waiting to meet with a nurse who had information about a case.

Tonight he's going to HER house to eat apple crumble.

Juliet fiddled with her right earring as an excuse to turn her head and unobtrusively get a look at Carlton.

Yep, still gorgeous.

His eyes were temporarily closed—he had a headache and his morning caffeine hadn't kicked in—and she studied his wavy black and silver hair (want to touch it) and the line of his jaw and she remembered kissing him months ago, and how warm and wonderful and sexy his mouth—and wandering hands—had been.

Victoria gave that up. Hadn't appreciated him. But she comes asking for someone to listen to strange noises and he jumps on it?

While still bearing the mark of the devil-beast Maaaaaaaaaaanda?

His phone rang—no special ring so she didn't know who it was—and he scowled at the display. "What?" he barked.

Interesting.

Then he got out of the car, the bastard, and she heard him say, "I told you to lose this number."

He leaned against the closed door, perhaps forgetting the window was down a few inches, so Juliet unabashedly listened to his half of the conversation.

She was becoming a bad person.

No, a worse person.

"No, that's not why. Your behavior is why."

Almost like he was talking to a child.

"Not buying it. That last arrest was in December. And I still can't believe it. A christening?" His voice rose in incredulity.

Juliet was very interested now. One of his informants?

"In the pew. Really? You have an excuse for that?"

She could tell by his agitated movements that his tension was increasing.

"That wasn't 'slipping.' That was out and out indecent and inappropriate and… I don't know what, but it was unacceptable. Do you understand?" He listened a few more moments and then snapped, "No, I wasn't okay with the park bench or the pier or the stadium! The church was just the worst!"

It was starting to get funny in its oddity. Who in the hell was this person? And why didn't Juliet already… ohhhhh…she suddenly felt cold.

It was one of his women. Probably—

"Using you? The hell? You jumped me!"

Angry silence for a few seconds.

"That's crap and you know it. Listen, Amanda," he said, stressing her name in a way Juliet didn't understand, "we are not compatible. Let this go. I don't care how much desperately-needed therapy you claim to be getting; it's going to be some other guy who finds out whether it worked."

He jabbed at the phone to end the call, shoved it in his pocket, ran his hands through his hair and let out a huge sigh.

Inside the car, Juliet felt wide-eyed.

Okay, so he'd slept with this woman, and it was over, but… he'd slept with her. He was angry because she must be some kind of previously-arrested sex fiend and deceived him about it, but he'd slept with her.

Naked sleeping. With… parts.

Yes, he was single and yes, he had his own life, and yes, a hickey was a good indicator of some sort of intimate activities between two people, and yes, thank God it was over, but he'd had actual naked sex with this woman who wasn't her.

Plus, who knew what naked depravity he might have engaged in with Emily 'Succubus' Adkins?

And tonight… tonight he was going over to the heart-stomper's house for heart-stomping apple crumble.

Hell, the way this summer was going, Victoria would probably have her naked heart-stomping way with him too.

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