To See The Daises ... First Read Online Free PDF

front of her intently, then glanced up at him absentmindedly. "I beg your pardon? You're not what?"
    "A private investigator," he said, irritated by the way her thoughts seemed to be wandering away from him.
    "Oh, really?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked up at him through ridiculously long lashes, focusing her full attention on him at last. "Did I uncover something devious?" She spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Are you practicing without a license?"
    He wanted to grab her thin shoulders and give her a hard shake—or a hard kiss, he couldn't decide which. "I'm not Charles Bradberry," he stated. "I was simply waiting for him to return to his office."
    She leaned against the wall beside him, Interest growing in her blue eyes. "Why do you need a private investigator?"
    "I don't need an investigator," he said in exasperation. "I need a drink." He reached out and grasped her arm, feeling the small bones through the bulky coat. Suddenly the muscles in his groin tightened as he remembered her state of undress beneath the coat and he dropped her arm like a hot rock.
    "Look, he's a personal friend," he said, running through his hair a hand that—to his consternation—shook slightly. "Now, will you forget about that! Are you going to be reasonable and admit that you need help? If not Charlie's, then mine."
    "No—" She stopped suddenly. "What's your name?"
    "Ben. Ben Garrison."
    "No, Ben," she said, enthusiasm filling her voice. "I think I've figured out what to do."
    "Oh God," he groaned. "Tell me. I'm strong, I can take it."
    Drawing her hand out of her pocket, she showed him a four-inch fragment of brick. She started tossing it casually in the air, then glanced pointedly down to the corner where a uniformed policeman was talking to the teenagers who had stood beside her earlier. When she was sure he had followed her gaze, she shifted her devilish eyes back to the window beside them, still playfully tossing the piece of brick.
    "Do you remember that O. Henry story, 'The Cop and the Anthem'?" she asked in a stage whisper.
    "Oh no you don't," he said emphatically, grabbing her hand to remove the brick as her meaning became frighteningly clear. "And if you'll recall, breaking the window didn't land him in jail as he had planned."
    "Whatcha wanna bet it would work for me?" she said cockily.
    "Forget it," he insisted. "I don't know what fairy tale you've concocted in that marvelous brain of yours, but believe me, you wouldn't like jail."
    "But they would feed me regularly and I would have a place to sleep. They might even try to rehabilitate me and give me some clothes and—" her beautiful lips twisted arid her next words came out through her teeth in an outrageously bad imitation of James Cagney—"if those dirty rats try to grill me, I won't tell them anything." She fluttered her gold lashes at him artlessly. "Because I don't know anything."
    As he stared down at her impudent face, his irritable mood vanished without a trace and suddenly the whole thing was hilariously funny. His lip twitched irrepressibly as he met the twinkle in her blue eyes and before he knew what was happening, they were standing there in the bright sunshine, ignoring the stares of the passing people as they leaned against the old building, their entwined bodies shaking with helpless laughter.
    Gradually he became aware of the pawnshop owner watching with narrow-eyed suspicion through the plate glass window. Ben nudged Sunny to share the sight with her and the man's eagle-eyed stare caused a fresh eruption of laughter. Grabbing her hand, he began to run down the street. But as they approached the policeman— now standing alone—their steps slowed with simultaneous, comic wariness and Ben casually dropped the telltale piece of brick. The officer eyed them sharply as they passed him, strolling arm in arm, whistling tonelessly under their breaths. When he dismissed them as unimportant and turned his attention elsewhere, they broke into a run and