Swingin' in the Rain by Eileen Davidson

“Maybe someone followed us.”
      “Did you see anyone?”
      “No, but I wasn’t looking.”
      Jakes looked at George.
      “I didn’t see anyone,” George said. “But it’s been raining so hard, you can barely see the road.”
      “Maybe you better go, George. I need to talk to Alex, alone.” Jakes said.
      “Are you and Wayne okay staying with Sarah a while longer?” I asked him.
      “Sure. Take your time Sweetie. I could use a drink right now anyway. Do you have some wine at home?”
      “Yes I do and you know where,” I told him. “I’ll be there soon.”
      “Okay,” he said. He looked at Jakes. “You know you really shouldn’t be mad at me. Just imagine what could have happened to Alex if I wasn’t with her. I always have her back.”
       “I’m not mad, George. Just concerned, okay? I’ll have a car take you home.”
      As he got into the police cruiser I heard him give the driver my address. It was good to know that he and Wayne would be there when I got home.
      “What were you thinking?” Jakes asked me. “This time I should wring your neck.”
      “Just let me explain.”
      “I’ll let you explain,” he said, “but it should be someplace dry. Come on.” He grabbed my hand.
      “Where?”
      “Someplace we can talk privately.” He tugged me to his car, then stopped and looked at me. “Did you and Doctor Watson touch anything in Patti’s house?”
      I hedged. “Everything is the way we found it.”
      “And the front door?”
      “What about it?” Jakes gave me the look I knew so well. “It wasn’t locked, okay? That’s the only reason we went in, to see if Patti was hurt.”
      “A likely story,” he said. ”Okay, come on.”
      He practically stuffed me into his car. My cell phone was burning a hole in my purse. I stole a quick look. Yep, the pictures were in tact.
     
     
      Jakes decided to take me someplace very private—his apartment. We had put our heads together many times before in restaurants and bars, but this time he wanted no one else around us.
      Jakes also arranged to have my car taken to the LAPD impound to be examined in the morning.
      We stopped at a Starbucks to get two coffees. Jakes’ kitchen was almost as clean as it had been when he first moved in. He took all his meals and drinks out.
      We toweled off and sat down at his kitchen table and I told him about the club.
      “Why didn’t you call me before you went to there?” he asked.
      “I didn’t know if it meant anything,” I said. “I mean, Patti just said to meet her there. Besides . . . I didn’t think you’d want to go to a club . . . like that.”
      “Why not?”
      “Well, you’re kind of . . . straight.”
      “Of course I‘m straight.”
      “No, I meant . . . straight-laced. You know . . .”
      “Are you trying to say I‘m too uptight to go to a swinger’s club?”
      “No, of course not,” I lied. “I meant it’s just not your . . . scene.”
      “But it’s yours?”
      “No,” I said. “Look, we’re getting off the point. I didn’t want to call until I knew I had something to tell you.”
      “And you do?”
      “Yes,” I said, “I have a lot to tell you, and then you can decide what to do.”
      ”Is that a fact?”
      “Yeah,” I said. “If you want to give this all to Rockland, that’ll be up to you.”
      He gave me a hard stare. “You know I don’t want to give that asshole anything,” he said. “All right, talk. Impress me.”
      I told him everything that happened from meeting Patti at the door of the club to calling him from her house.
      “Let me see the clay animal you stole.”
      I took it out and passed it to him. “I didn’t steal it,” I said. “My daughter made it for her father.”
      He turned it over in his hands. “You say this is a dog?”
      “It was made by a little girl!” I snapped. “Jeez, you’re just like George.”
      “Okay, take it easy,” he