Perfect Scents. Virginia Taylor

already know you have mentioned to one of these people that they might be happier living elsewhere. I heard you this morning. I can certainly report suspicious activity. The gangsters in there are probably making a fortune while you’re running around at night scaring poor innocent residents.”

      He re-angled his stance. “You’re a resident?”

      She flicked her head toward the darkened cottage. “That’s how I can hear what’s going on next door.”

      “Noisy, are they?”

      “No. Suspiciously quiet. Well, except for last night. They played loud music and laughed and broke bottles. I expect they were having an orgy after counting the millions they extorted from people during the day.” She straightened the neckline of her top.

      He pressed a loosely curled fist to his mouth while he examined her face. “I think this neighborhood deserves further discussion. Tomorrow night over a meal, perhaps?”

      “I think you should back off the property before I call the police.” She took a step back to the door, clenching her bare toes onto the lawn.

      “What’s going on over there?” said a voice from behind the fence.

      “I’ve had complaints about you,” Mr. Neighborhood Watch called back.

      “Me?” the voice said in indignant squeak.

      “And I would suggest you dismantle your meth lab before the police arrive.” Mr. Neighborhood Watch pushed his hands into his back pockets, and nodded at Calli, as if to imply he had the situation covered and was in collusion with her.

      “Okay,” the voice said. “It sounds like you’re talking to a woman.”

      “As it happens, I am. The eighteen-year-old boy turned into the jogging girl.”

      “Story of your life, isn’t it, buddy? I expect you don’t need my help.” The voice sounded bitter. The back door squeaked and banged.

      Calli stood for a moment staring at a face that even in the shadows set her heart thudding.

      “The police won’t arrive in time, and they won’t find any evidence,” he said, holding her gaze.

      She moistened her lips, her intake of air icy cold. “You’re one of the next-door neighbors, too, I presume?”

      He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “About the bottles—we thought the cottage was empty.”

      All of a sudden, she remembered his comment to the man over the fence. “You’ve seen me jogging?” She wet her lips. “Is that what you meant when you said you.”

      He nodded. “We’re working on the house until the marijuana crop is ripe enough to harvest. The meth lab is Trent’s. I don’t have anything to do with it.”

      “And you’re staying there while you work.” She hesitated and, in case he had seen her picture in the paper as her father’s spoiled dishonest daughter, she tested him with, “I’m Calli.”

      He gripped her palm. “Kellen. Now, about that dinner….”

      “There’s nowhere around here you would want to eat. Look, it’s been interesting talking to a gangster, but I have a pile of work to catch up with.”

      “Right.” Kellen reached behind her and grabbed the chair. “Where do you want this?”

      “I’ll take it inside.”

      “I’ll take it inside. It’s the least I can do after throwing you to the ground and landing on top of you.”

      “If I can carry it outside, I can carry it inside.” She lifted her chin.

      His expression deliberately patient, he took the chair to the door and waited for her. “I understand that you don’t want a strange man wandering into your house. How about if you wander through mine tomorrow instead and check the whereabouts of the meth lab? It would save you climbing the fence at night.”

      She firmed her chin. “I expect you wouldn’t want me to arrive until you’ve had time to hide everything.”

      “Come for lunch,” he said, passing the chair to her. “We have a houseful of food.”

      “I might,” New Calli said, surprising herself. Apparently she wasn’t quite as staid as she had thought. Or Kellen’s reluctant amusement had relaxed her. “At about one. By the way, how did you get into this garden?”

      “I jumped the fence.” He backed away, a crooked smile on his face. “I’ll show you.” In two steps, he had hold of the top of the fence, lifted to the extent of his arms, and vaulted. “See you at one tomorrow.”