she’d chew him out big time. But what man in his right mind wouldn’t take advantage of the moment? After all, Maleah was a gorgeous woman, even if she seemed oblivious to the fact. Or maybe she was in denial. Most women wanted men to find them attractive. Not Maleah. For the most part, she wanted men to leave her alone. He didn’t suspect sexual assault in her past as the reason. No, she wasn’t afraid of men and didn’t seem to dislike men in general. But she carried a major chip on her shoulder when it came to taking orders from a man, sometimes even Griff.
“Maleah,” he called to her. “Hey, wake up, Blondie.”
She stretched languidly, the movement shoving the sheet off her completely. When she turned flat on her back, Derek swallowed hard. Her breasts were high and round and full, straining against the pink lace bra. And beneath the sheer pink bikini panties, dark blond curls created a triangular patch.
“Maleah . . .”
She opened her eyes, looked up at him and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” He realized she was still half asleep.
Suddenly, as if just realizing Derek actually was standing there looking down at her and that she was half naked, she grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to her chin. Glaring at him, she asked, “How did you get in here?”
He held up the key card. “I accidentally put it in my pocket after I unlocked your door earlier.”
“You should have knocked.”
“I did. You were sleeping like the dead and didn’t hear me.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
He tried not to grin, but couldn’t keep his mouth from curving into a closed-mouth smile. “Uh . . . not long.”
“I assume you have a reason for invading my privacy this way.” She jerked the sheet off the bed as she stood and wrapped it around her.
“Sanders called. Albert Durham is in St. Simons Island, Georgia.”
“Is he alive?”
Derek chuckled.
“What so funny?”
“I asked Sanders the same thing.”
“And his answer?” she asked.
“As far as we know Durham’s alive. Sanders sent a Powell contact up from Jacksonville to keep an eye on Durham until we can get there.”
“Give me ten minutes.” Maleah disappeared into the bathroom, clutching the sheet just above her breasts as she dragged it with her.
Derek turned on a couple of lights, pulled a fivedollar bill from his wallet and laid it on the bed for the maid. He glanced around the room, checking for any personal items, and found none. Apparently, Maleah had left her suitcase in the bathroom after her shower.
Seven and a half minutes later, she emerged, completely dressed, her hair dry and swirled up into a loose bun, flyaway tendrils framing her face. She’d even put on some blush and lip gloss.
“How do you do it?” Derek asked
She stared at him. “How do I do what?”
“Manage to always look so beautiful?”
At first, she glared daggers at him, but then, as if unable to stop herself, she smiled and finally laughed. “I’ve learned not to take anything you say seriously. You get too much pleasure out of yanking my chain, don’t you?”
“If you say so.”
He opened the door and held it for her. Each carrying their own bag, neither in a talkative mood, they took the elevator down and quickly checked out.
By 2:40 P.M., they were headed for US-278 E.
Poppy loved her grandmother, the one constant in her life, the one person who never changed and seemed to love Poppy unconditionally. It wasn’t that her mother didn’t love her. She did. But she had other priorities. At forty, Vickie looked thirty, thanks to strict dieting, strenuous exercise and a little Botox here and there in strategic spots. Why her mom hadn’t handed her over to Grandmother years ago, she’d never understand. Maybe as revenge against her husband’s family, the people who had never approved of her as proper wife material for a Chappelle. Poppy did know that Grandmother had taken Vickie to court and an ugly legal battle had dragged on for nearly a year. But in the end, the court had awarded custody to Vickie, with generous visitation privileges for her grandmother. So, she had spent a couple of months every summer since then in Savannah, as well as every other Christmas, Thanksgiving, and birthday.
Sometimes, she dreamed of coming here to live permanently, but that wouldn’t happen. When she graduated from high school, she would go off to college and be in charge of her own life. It would be her choice when to visit her mother and when to visit her grandmother. Her trust fund would pay for her college education, but the bulk of that small fortune would not be hers to do with as she chose until she turned twenty-five.
“Why such a sad face?” Grandmother asked.
“Ma’am?”
“Are you worried about something?”
“Oh, no, ma’am, just thinking about when I’m older and I go off to college.”
“That’s a couple of years from now,” Grandmother reminded her. “I much prefer to concentrate on the here and now, on today. Our guests will be arriving at seven. You should go upstairs soon. A lady should take all the time necessary to make herself presentable.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You are going to wear that lovely blue chiffon dress, aren’t you? I asked Heloise to lay it out for you and . . .” Grandmother Chappelle smiled as if she had a delicious secret to share. “I took my sapphire earrings from the safe. They’re in your room, on your dressing table. I would very much like for you to wear them this evening.”
“Oh, Grandmother, the sapphire earrings. I couldn’t. I mean they were an anniversary gift from Grandfather.”
“I’m not giving them to you, Poppy. I’m only loaning them to you.” Grandmother smiled. “But one day they will be yours . . . when I’m gone.”
Poppy threw her arms around her grandmother and gave her a big hug. “I love you so much.”
Staunch, prim and proper, stiff-upper-lip Carolyn Chappelle hugged Poppy, then shoved her away and cleared her throat. She turned around, but not before Poppy saw the tears in her grandmother’s eyes.
“I’ll wear the blue chiffon,” she said. She had seen the new dress Grandmother had bought for her and she hated it. It looked like something that girls wore forty years ago.
“And you’ll wear the sapphire earrings.”
“Of course I will.”
Poppy rushed through the house and up the back stairs, taking them two at a time. She needed plenty of time to prepare for this evening, to psych herself up to “party” with the Chappelle family’s friends. When in Savannah, her goal was always to make Grandmother proud of her.
For most of the four-hour trip, Maleah had concentrated on driving while Derek went over the reports from the agency, with updated information on Albert Durham, that included a recent publicity photo. The guy fit the general description of the man who had visited Browning at the Georgia State Prison. Derek shared the info with Maleah, giving her the condensed version, which left her too much time to think about other things. She couldn’t forget the way Derek had looked at her that morning just before he left her alone in her hotel room. For half a second, she had thought he was going to kiss her. And she kept replaying in her mind the moment that afternoon when she had awakened to find Derek staring at her almost naked body. But what bothered her the most was that she kept hearing Derek ask, “How do you do it? Manage to always look so beautiful?”
Thankfully, those introspective moments didn’t last long. Powell Agency business kept them both occupied.
