by Mia Dymond
“No! Ourselves, Lucy.”
“And how, pray tell, are we going to do that? We have exactly two days.”
Allison crossed her arms and forced herself to remain patient. “What is the major reason we attend this party every year?”
“Gossip.”
“Right. Look, it’s a costume party. Between being disguised and loaded up on alcohol, someone who knows anything will talk before the night is over.”
Lucy’s lips finally curved into a semi-smile. “You might just be right.”
“I am. Now, let’s go.”
Lucy squared her shoulders, entered the room, and headed to the nearest corner. Allison released a heavy breath and headed to the punch bowl.
Ten minutes later, she stopped next to Lucy and handed her a cup of punch. “This is a pretty good year.”
“Do tell,” Lucy drawled.
Allison tossed back a drink of punch. “Naughty Nurse and Red Devil have a new association and Dracula wants in on the action. Superman ditched Lois Lane for Marilyn Monroe and Frankenstein has several new uses for his nuts and bolts.”
Lucy gawked. “You heard all of that at the punch bowl?”
Allison grinned. “Yeah. And nothing about Smallwood’s accusation.”
Allison glanced around the room for the hundredth time. Where was Dr. Smallwood?
She handed Lucy her cup, lowered the zipper at the neck of her bodysuit, and boosted her breasts to the top until they almost spilled out. “This oughta be fun.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Fun? Oh, this is loads of fun. What are you doing?”
Allison grinned. “A little more cleavage might loosen somebody’s lips.”
“What else did you hear?”
Allison shrugged. “Nothing much, yet. Be patient, Luce, it’s still early.”
Lucy sighed. “What choice do I have? It’s either this or take the rap for something I didn’t do.”
“Just keep holding up this wall.” Allison giggled. “I’ll go mingle some more.”
“Wait.” Lucy grabbed Allison’s forearm. “Who’s Zorro over there by the food table?”
Allison moved her gaze across the room and zeroed in on Zorro. Dressed in black, he stood tall – at least six feet of rugged, rock-hard male, molded to perfection. Mile-wide shoulders showcased bulging biceps beneath his long-sleeved costume. Lower, lean hips and toned, long legs supported his frame. Unable to help herself, she gawked, and reached to touch her bottom lip to make sure she hadn’t begun to drool like a rabid dog.
As if he felt her perusal, Zorro tossed his long ebony cape over his shoulders, turned, and gave her a smile, one so sincere it almost said thank you.
Allison slowly shifted her gaze back to Lucy. “I have no idea, why?”
“He’s staring. Oh God! You think he knows something?”
“No! Lucy please, you’ve got to relax. He’s just flirting.”
“Oh.” Lucy heaved a sigh. “Are you sure?”
“For Heaven’s sake. I’ll prove it.”
Allison returned her attention to Zorro, tilted her head to one side, and raised an eyebrow in silent invitation. Zorro shot her another killer smile and then ambled their direction.
As soon as he stood beside her, Allison reached to snatch the gaucho hat from his head and mask from his face. “Now at least I have a visual.”
Zorro’s emerald green gaze traveled the length of her body and he shook his shoulder length shaggy blonde hair. “Not nearly as stimulating as mine.”
Allison folded her arms across her chest. “Who are you?”
He offered a hand. “Luke. And you?”
Surprised that he had only given his first name, Allison found herself intrigued. Last names were off limits.
Slowly, she unfolded her arms and slid her hand into his. “Allison.” She gestured beside her with a nod. “This is Lucy. I haven’t seen you around here.”
“Dr. Carpenter is my sister. She said the party needed more of a male influence so I volunteered.”
“Allison,” Lucy squeaked. Allison directed her attention to Lucy, now staring past her with an open mouth.
“What?”
Lucy pointed to the doorway. Allison turned, equally as stunned as Lucy. Dr. Smallwood entered the room. The black leather vest he wore stretched over his obese frame and several buttons popped open in the front to expose his chest covered in light grey hair. Nausea bubbled her stomach. No wonder he scheduled a salon appointment every couple of weeks. What was left of the hair on his head was colored a deep brown.
Lower on his body, flesh-colored tights hugged his meaty thighs and legs. Leather chaps dyed to match the vest buckled his hips. Her stomach lurched when her gaze reached the most outlandish piece of his costume, the studded collar around his neck.
Allison elbowed Lucy. “Close your mouth.”
“Do you see –?”
“Yeah, I see.”
“Hell’s Angel?”
“I’m not even going to guess. I did notice that he’s checked his watch several times. Do you think he’s meeting someone?”
“Who knows? He’s supposed to be in Philadelphia for the weekend.”
“Who is the big guy?” Luke’s smooth, deep voice did little to ease Allison’s tension.
“Our boss, Dr. Jeffrey Smallwood,” Lucy whispered.
Allison cleared her throat. “I think I’ll get some more punch.”
“Lower your mask,” Lucy mumbled.
Allison positioned her mask over her eyes and headed for the punch bowl. Unfortunately, Dr. Smallwood had the same idea and positioned himself right in front of the table. Now what?
For lack of a better plan, Allison prepared to duck beneath the table when she heard the familiar chime of Smallwood’s cell phone. While he was distracted by the phone call, she snuck behind the table and dipped another cup of punch.
“Where are you?” Smallwood kept his voice low. “We agreed to meet at my office.”
Allison paused in mid-dip.
“I told you, Francine is out of town. We have the whole weekend.”
Unable to contain her excitement, Allison let the ladle slip from her grasp and bang the side of the crystal bowl. She made a mad dash back to the corner.
Allison grabbed the Styrofoam cup from Lucy’s hand and tossed it into the nearest trash can. “Luke, it was nice to meet you, but it’s time for Lucy and me to leave.”
Lucy frowned. “It is?”
Allison raised her eyebrows and gave a slight nod toward the door. “We have to go, remember? I have something to do.”
Lucy froze.
With a heavy sigh, Allison shoved Luke’s hat and mask back at him. “If you stick around long enough, someone will spike the punch and the party will get very entertaining.” She grabbed Lucy’s arm, tugged her toward the door, and paused a split second to give Luke one last cheeky smile. “Too bad I won’t be around to see it.”
Luke zeroed his gaze on Allison’s ass squeezed in black leather as she wiggled away and made an obvious hasty exit. He swallowed the remaining punch, squeezed the paper cup in his fist, then dropped it into the trash. Her departure was just a little too abrupt. He snickered. She should’ve asked what he did for a living.
He shifted from foot to foot in an effort to restrain himself from charging after her. He glanced at his watch and noted the time. Where the hell was she going at 11:00 p.m. and why did she practically mow down five people to get out the door? Five minutes. He’d give her five minutes ahead of him and then he’d figure out the reason behind her actions. No way could she conquer the parking lot in less time. Not in those do-me heels.
Meanwhile, he clicked facts through his brain. Two single women dressed in sultry, body-hugging cat suits. One woman obviously uncomfortable in her get-up, the other quite the opposite. Allison appeared tailor made for her costume. Her curves fit each seam from her voluptuous, firm breasts to her mile-long legs. He took a deep breath and the faint scent of vanilla teased his senses. He frowned.
Mouthwateringly sexy. Yet, somehow untouchable.
Luke took one more glance around the room before making an exit. Convinced no one paid him much attention, he left the room and followed the scent of vanilla down the hallway.
CHAPTER THREE
“Damn.”
Allison pulled harder on Lucy’s arm and forced her to power walk in her stilettos down the hospital corridor.
Once they rounded the first corner, Dr. Smallwood exited through a side door that led to the staff parking lot.
“Where do you suppose he’s headed?” Lucy squeezed her eyes closed, a tell-tale sign she really didn’t want to know.
Allison yanked her car keys from her cleavage. “Don’t know, but we’ll find out soon.”
She stepped out the door and crept toward her car like a black panther on the prowl. The crisp October night breathed a slight wind and Allison felt the leather of her bodysuit stiffen as Lucy click-clacked behind her.
“Ssssh!” Allison hissed. “He’ll hear us!”
“Well, excuse me, Agent Hot Stuff, but your pace makes my heels noisy. Why can’t I hear yours?”
“Practice,” Allison mumbled.
Finally seated in her Cadillac, behind the smoked windows with the heater on full blast, Allison exhaled the cold air from her lungs.
“Now what?” Lucy blew into her hands.
A low growl from the back seat caused Allison to turn and peer into the darkness. Two narrowed, red eyes glared back.
She reached a hand over her seat. “Sorry Scar, did we wake you?”
The massive beast stretched his legs, yawned and then stood. “No worries, niece. What has you so excited?”
Allison gestured out the driver’s window and watched Dr. Smallwood back his Lexus out of his assigned space and leave the lot. “Dr. Smallwood handed us an opportunity but we’re not sure what to do.”
The dog nudged her shoulder. “You must follow him.”
Without hesitation, Allison jammed the car into reverse and gunned the accelerator. A loud thump sounded from the back.
“Allison,” Lucy scolded, “you slung him across the seat again.”
Allison pulled onto the street and followed the Lexus a discreet three car lengths behind. “Forgive me, Uncle, I am just excited.”
Allison swore she heard Scar laugh. She felt the car seat shift as Lucy’s left knee bounced. Allison took a long, hard look at her best friend to contemplate the consequences of what they were about to do.
“This might just work,” she said finally. “If Dr. Smallwood realizes we know he didn’t dress up to trick-or-treat, he might agree to tell the truth about the money.”
Lucy released a sigh. “I sure hope so.”
Allison opened her mouth to spout reassurances but paused after she glanced into her rearview mirror. A black truck kept a short distance behind. Tinted windows kept her from seeing inside. “We have company.”
Lucy groaned. “Who?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“You’re sure someone’s following us?”
“Positive. Watch.”
Allison flipped her blinker, increased speed, then changed lanes to pass the second car between her and Smallwood. Several seconds later, the truck did the same.
“See?” Allison snickered. “Pass me my cell, Luce.”
Scar growled from behind her. “You must call Carlos.”
“I’m on it, Uncle.” Allison pressed speed dial, relayed the information to Carlos, then disconnected. She slowed to allow Smallwood an appropriate distance. Minutes later, she heard the squeal of tires and glanced back into her rearview mirror to see a black Suburban pull directly in front of her shadow.
“Mission accomplished.” Lucy’s tone was definitely one of relief.
Allison grinned as her cell phone rang. She listened quietly and then once again disconnected. “Well, well, well.” Allison smirked at Lucy. “You’ll never guess the identity of our tail.”
“Who?”
“Zorro.”
“Zorro?”
Allison nodded, just as curious as Lucy. She was forced to put her curiosity on hold, though when Dr. Smallwood’s right turn signal blinked. She glanced at a well-lit sign. The Regency Hotel. A few minutes later, Dr. Smallwood walked inside.
Allison steered into a parking space on the opposite side of the lot and cut the engine. Lucy fumbled for the door handle.
Allison gawked. “What are you doing?”
Lucy turned to look at her and frowned. “Getting a confession. Hurry up or we’ll miss our opportunity.”
Scar rested his chin on the top of Lucy’s seat. “Patience, my dear.”
Allison released a soft sigh. “We have to give him a head start.”
“Why? We might lose him.”
“Nah.” Allison placed one hand on the door panel and milliseconds later, the door locks clicked. Then she leaned across the seat and opened the glove compartment to remove a digital camera and a small leather pouch.
Lucy’s logic broke the silence. “How are we going to find him if we don’t go inside and ask?”
Allison gave her a sly grin. “Isn’t your laptop in the back seat?”
Lucy nodded. “Yes, why?”
“Hack into the hotel roster.”
Lucy grabbed the computer and then clicked away at the keys. “Oh. My. God! He’s on the twelfth floor!”
Lucy squinted, leaned closer to the screen of her laptop, then glanced out the window and tilted back her head. “Allison, you realize I can’t go up there. Please tell me you have a plan.”
“I do. We’re going to wait until he’s settled and then pay him a visit.” Allison paused. “And you’re not going to let your fear of heights stop us.”
Lucy shook her head. “You are taking this cat burglar role way too seriously. If this whole thing backfires, don’t you think someone will be able to describe us?”
Allison snapped the laptop closed and motioned for Lucy to open her door. “No one is going to see us.”
“What about Scar?”
Scar answered her question by boosting his bulky frame up and over until he stood in the front seat and pushed her from the car. “I am right behind you.”
Lucy was remarkably quiet while she followed Allison to the shadowed side of the building. “How do you suggest we get up there and in the room unannounced?”
“We’ll just scale the wall.”
“Twelve floors? Are you crazy?”
“Shhh!” Allison covered Lucy’s shaking hands to steady them. “You’re making me nervous. Calm down. We’ll just wing it.”
Lucy snorted. “Your standard m.o. Winging it. No plan or strategy involved.” She glanced around the small alcove carved in the side of the skyscraper and then back at Allison.
“Don’t even think about ditching me,” Allison drawled. “You can do this.”
Lucy gave an exasperated sigh and glanced down at her attire. “I am mentally unstable. I’ve agreed to another one of your zany ideas, while standing in the frigid night air, asking a gargantuan Rottweiler for advice.” She gave a high-pitched half laugh. “And he answers me … in two languages!”
Allison remained silent while Lucy ranted, knowing full well it was just part of her coping process.
Lucy opened her mouth, exhaled several puffs of air, and then pointed toward the far wall. “How about that window washing thingy, whatever they call it?”
Allison cackled like a mad scientist and hugged her. “The scaffold! You’re a genius! Come on.”
“Wait! How did that get there?”
Allison bit back her frustration. Leave it to Lucy to be so darn analytical. She motioned to the corner of the building, blocked off with yellow caution tape. Stacks of brick and at least a dozen buckets of what she assumed was powdered mortar lay against one wall.
“The hotel’s being renovated, Lucy. The construction company probably left it.”
Lucy couldn’t be dissuaded. “The scaffold’s ignition is probably
locked. There’s no way they’d leave it for just anyone to use. How are we going to move it?”
Scar raised an ear. “Do not fret. It will take little effort to drive this machine.”
Allison shrugged. “Uncle Emilio owns a construction company, remember?”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so?”
“I know how to move it.”
“Of course you do.” Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose.
Allison glanced up at the hotel and cursed in Italian. “Of all the businesses we own in Maplewood, he managed to stay in one we don’t. What a jughead! Obviously he forgot about the hefty discount Uncle Vincent gives him at the Barrington.”
Allison shot Lucy a smug grin and palmed the leather pouch she brought from the car. “However, I came prepared.”
Lucy’s eyes rounded. “What’s that?”
“My lock picking kit.”
“Your what?!” Lucy tap-danced her toe against the cement.
“My lock picking kit,” Allison repeated.
“You keep a lock picking kit in your bra?”
“Excuse me for being obvious, but my bodysuit does not have pockets. Lucy, please, you’ve got to be still.”
Scar growled low in his throat. “Yes, you must relax. If you continue to bounce, I will not be able to keep my balance.”
Lucy’s mouth fell open. “You intend to ride with us?”
“Of course. I will lay next to you for comfort.”
Lucy hugged her laptop to her chest. “Can you control that machine?”
Scar braced his front paws on the bench and Allison lifted his back legs over the rail until he stood on the seat. He lowered himself to lay flush against the bench.
Allison threw a leg over the side of their aluminum accomplice to help Lucy on board. “It can’t be that hard. We can do it.”
“Uh, Allison, this thing probably squeaks. Won’t someone hear us?”
Scar raised his head. “Ay, dio mio, child. Your constant worry is somewhat irritating. Please, just be calm.”
Allison flipped several switches on the side of the scaffold. “I could sing.”
Lucy clutched the railing when the machine swayed from left to right. “Cute. Be serious.”
Allison flicked one more switch. “Finally,” she said as they left the ground. “We’ll be up the building and off this thing before anyone figures it out.”
