Private Investigations

Christy glanced at the tiny figure in her hand, not sure that she cared to be the recipient of what was, plainly, a voodoo doll. Her apprehension must have been evident, because Camille laughed softly.

“There is nothing to fear in a red doll, chérie. Red is for love.” Her gaze slid briefly, but meaningfully, in Dallas’s direction. “Believe in it, and it may bring you all that you desire.”

Christy didn’t know how to refuse the voodoo queen without offending her. Murmuring a quick thanks, she stuffed the doll into her shoulder bag.

When they got outside, Dallas wanted to know, “What was that all about? What did she give you?”

“Oh, just a little charm meant to bring me luck.”

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t believe her, of course. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. Damn the voodoo queen for thinking she had a thing for Dallas McFarland!

“YOU KNOW,” he said as he guided the convertible through the traffic, heading them back toward the center of the city, “I caught a glimpse of it before you tucked it out of sight in that duffel bag you call a purse. Innocent little charm, my fanny. It was a voodoo doll. A red one.”

Christy, taking refuge behind sunglasses and baseball cap, slouched down in the seat and didn’t answer him.

“Hell, everybody knows what red voodoo dolls are for. So, grits, who are you planning to use that thing on?”

“Prince Charles.”

His response took her completely by surprise. “Well, you know what I think? I think you’ve got the hots for ol’ Glenn. It’s my guess that after a decent interval you’ll be sticking pins into that poor little mite and chanting over it. Or whatever it takes to make syrup out of ol’ Glenn. Why do you want to go and waste your money on junk like that? The guy isn’t worth it.”

Christy should have been relieved that she was safe, thankful that Dallas hadn’t realized it had been the voodoo queen’s intention for her to lure him with the doll. But she was much too annoyed for that. “In the first place, I didn’t buy the doll. Camille insisted I take the silly thing as a gift. Anyway, it’s none of your business who I might care for or not care for. And why do you keep picking on Glenn when you’re supposed to be on his side? Furthermore, Camille meant the doll—” Christy caught herself just in time “—as, uh, just a kind of novelty.”

Too late. She couldn’t see Dallas’s eyes behind his dark glasses, but she didn’t have to. The smug little smile on his bold mouth when she stole a quick look at his profile, told her that he had tricked her into revealing what he’d suspected all along. She had practically confirmed for him the voodoo queen’s real purpose for the doll.

“Now see how you’re already benefitting from my experience?” The little smile widened into a maddening grin. “I’ve just demonstrated how a skilled P.I. goes about getting information out of an unwilling subject. Useful lesson, huh?”

Smoldering, Christy tugged at the brim of her Cubs cap. “Exactly what did my father tell you about me when the two of you put your heads together and came up with this little scheme of our working together?”

“That you’ve got a lot of promise. Just needs developing.”

She didn’t care for the way his deep voice stroked the words promise and developing, as though he were suggesting something other than a knowledge of private investigation. “I see. Well, suppose you enlighten me now about what I’m really eager to know.”

“And what instruction would that be?”