Moon. Beneath the spiked hair and the orange-rimmed sunglasses, who would suspect that there lurked a man who was a black belt in karate? And Jack was pretty sure no one would guess that Franco owned the apartment building he lived in. The lovely old Painted Lady had been his sole award in a palimony suit against his former longtime lover.
Franco whipped a notebook out of his pocket. “What else do you know about her? I’ve decided she’s the perfect heroine for my screenplay.”
Jack urged Franco back into the building. “You say that about every woman you meet. Your place or mine?”
“Yours,” Franco said, glancing at his watch. “My Monday-Tuesday tenant hasn’t moved out yet. Besides, you have better coffee, and I just French-pressed a pot of your Arabica.”
“Make yourself at home,” Jack said dryly as Franco used his passkey to let them in. Until he sold his screenplay, Franco had decided to live as frugally as possible. Therefore, he was presently renting out his second-floor apartment on a per diem basis to two women who lived there on different days of the week while Franco had moved into the old maid’s quarters in the basement.
Franco poured two cups of coffee and settled himself on the couch that swept around two walls of the sunny living room while Jack filled him in on what he knew about Corie Benjamin.
“So, the opening scene is eleven-fifteen at the airport. I can see it now. Sun pouring down through all that glass as our heroine walks wide-eyed through the gate into a brave new world.” Grabbing the notebook that was never far from reach, Franco began to jot down notes.
“This isn’t a movie,” Jack said.
“It will be. Corie Benjamin’s perfect—a shy little country mouse coming to the big city. My agent will be very excited about it.”
“I thought he was interested in the other two plots you’re hatching,” Jack said.
“Those too.” Franco waved his hand, then continued to scribble notes.
Jack moved to the window. Across the street, the construction workers were taking their places on the scaffolding that decorated two houses. In a matter of moments, a cacophony of ear-numbing noises would begin.
Turning back to Franco, he said, “I told her that she could use your apartment for the entire week and perhaps more, if she decides to extend her stay.”
“No problemo. I spoke with the two women who use the apartment now on different days, and I’m sure she can work something out with them.”
“There’s just one more thing.” Jack ran a hand through his hair. “She wants a makeover—the kind they’re always doing on TV talk shows. Do you know what she’s talking about?”
Franco glanced up. “A makeover! That will be perfect. It’s just what I needed—a Pygmalion theme. Eliza Doolittle meets Vito Corleone! That is sooo high concept! My agent will definitely be able to sell it!”
Jack crossed to the couch and sat down. Sometimes his friend needed a firm hand. Taking Franco’s notebook and pen, he then set them on the table. “Forget about the screenplay for a minute. Can you handle the makeover for me?”
Franco’s brows shot up. “Is rain wet? Do flowers bloom in the spring? When my mother first read me Cinderella, I didn’t want to be the prince. I wanted to be the fairy godmother. I’ve always wondered why I wasn’t born with a magic wand in my hand.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to do it yourself?”
“Heavens no. I’ll be her advisor, but I’ll probably enlist the help of Lorenzo. He’s currently doing my hair.”
Jack frowned. “I don’t think she is envisioning spikes.”
“Relax. Lorenzo is one of the top hair designers in San Francisco. He does all the movie stars when they visit. Our little Corie will be in good hands.”
Jack’s frown deepened. “That’s just it. She’s not our little Corie.”
Franco studied Jack for a moment. “For someone who spent the past two weeks convincing our little Cor—librarian to board that plane tomorrow, you don’t look very happy.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jack began to pace. “If there was some other way that I could gain access to the Lewis family, I wouldn’t have involved her.”
“You worry too much.”
“Maybe I haven’t worried enough. I still don’t know who sent me the anonymous e-mail, telling me about her and where to locate her.”
“Why don’t you ask your friend at Cop Central to help you out?”
Jack had thought about that. His friendship with Captain D. C. Parker went back to their high school days. “I couldn’t ask D.C. to do anything illegal. He’s on the political fast track in the department.”
Franco shrugged. “Who says he’d have to get involved? All you need is a name—someone who’s had a few brushes with the law….”
Jack paused in his pacing to study his friend. “You know, with a devious mind like yours, you’d make a good journalist.”
Franco threw up his hands. “Not on your life! I’ll stick to my screenplay, thank you. And I think you really ought to relax about this. Even if all your suspicions about Benny Lewis turn out to be true, he’s worked too hard to build his reputation as a pillar of the community and a philanthropist to risk even the barest hint of scandal at this point. Our little Corie is going to be perfectly safe.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” But… Jack barely kept himself from saying the word out loud.
Franco leaned back against the cushions on the couch. “You know, I’ve never seen you this concerned about a woman before.”
Jack considered that for a moment. He made a point of never becoming too involved with a woman. He’d always told himself that it was because he was never in one place for long, and he had no business taking on the responsibility. But he didn’t have to go to a shrink to figure out that he didn’t trust long-term relationships. He’d lost his parents when he was five and his aunt when he was eighteen. Nothing lasted. Therefore, it was just…easier not to get involved. And he didn’t intend to get involved with Corie Benjamin. It was just that… “I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s different. And she wouldn’t be coming out here to meet her father if I hadn’t called her.”
“Is she pretty?” Franco asked.
“How would I know? I’ve never seen her.” But he wanted to. For the first time, it occurred to him that he was looking forward to meeting Corie for reasons that had nothing to do with his pursuit of the truth surrounding his aunt’s disappearance. Suddenly, he frowned.
“Well, well, well. I never thought I’d see the day that a woman would tie you up in knots,” Franco said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Corie Benjamin is not my type.”
“Anything you say.”
“I’m just feeling a little guilty because I never told her about Benny’s
