“The office was broken into last night.”
Peta sat straight up, forgetting that Max held one of her nipples, and she grimaced as he accidentally tugged it. “What?”
“The office. I came in early this morning to try and get some of the grunt work out of the way, and I found it like this...”
She could hear tears trembling in the older woman’s voice. “Phoebe, did you call the police?”
Max was behind her now, supporting her, frowning and tipping his head in query.
“Yes, they’re on their way.”
“We’ll be right there. Don’t touch anything. Don’t worry, just wait for them, okay? Wait outside for them.”
“I’m outside now. In my car. I didn’t want to go back in there. Can you come over?”
“Of course. I just said we would. Give us a few minutes. Stay put, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, dear, I’m sorry...”
“Don’t be silly,” scolded Peta. Max was gone, shrugging into his clothes. “We’ll be there shortly.”
Phoebe had hung up.
“The office was burgled last night” She reached for her clothes.
“Anything stolen?” asked Max.
“I don’t know. Phoebe took one look and called the police, I guess. She’s there now in her car waiting for them. Max, can we...”
“I’ll meet you downstairs. Dress warm. And hurry.”
She breathed deeply. He was a whirlwind in bed, which she’d expected, but he seemed to be such a caring man in others, too, which caught her by surprise when she allowed herself time to think about it.
And time was one thing she didn’t have right now.
Grabbing a warm sweatshirt, she picked up her cane and stumbled from the room.
The flickering lights on the top of two police cars greeted them as they pulled up outside the offices of Mayfield Masterpieces.
Situated in a remodeled store, the small company looked onto the street and the nicely-painted door was ajar, with snow on the doormat marking the passage of heavy official boots.
“Phoebe?” Peta called out as she and Max walked carefully inside.
“Back here,” came the answer.
Following the voice, they made their way through the reception area to the larger room behind, and Peta gasped as they entered.
There was chaos everywhere.
Two officers were moving slowly around, making notes in their ever-present books, and Phoebe herself was sitting at her desk talking to Lieutenant Summers.
“Oh wonderful. Bless you both for coming,” she said, catching sight of them as they stood, open mouthed, looking at the mess.
“My God, Phoebe. Who on earth would do this?” Peta couldn’t grasp it. Couldn’t get her mind around the fact that someone would wreak havoc in such a dreadful way.
“I don’t know,” moaned Phoebe. “I was just telling Frank here, we’ve nothing of value.”
“They didn’t take the computers,” noted Max.
Peta caught an expression of surprise in Frank’s eyes as he glanced at Max.
“Good observation. No they didn’t. And as near as Phoebe can tell, not much else is missing, either.”
“Peta, check the data file, will you? See if our hard copies are in there?” Phoebe nodded at a filing cabinet whose drawers hung askew.
Pushing some of the paper on the floor out of the way with her cane, she did as she was told.
“They’re all here. Nothing’s missing. Every single one’s here...” She ran her hands over the data storage file, as familiar with its contents as she was with her own kitchen cupboard. More so, probably.
Phoebe sighed and sagged. “Well that’s a relief. Those disks are the most valuable things we have, Frank.”
The Lieutenant chewed on his pencil. “You don’t keep cash around, do you?”
“No, Frank, no cash,” answered Peta. She thankfully eased down into the chair Max had pulled out for her, and took comfort from his presence behind her. “All our transactions are done on-line, either bank transfers or PayPal, or whatever.”
“Our entire livelihood is pretty much virtual,” added Phoebe. “Those disks over there are our original hard copies of each book we publish, on a month by month basis. We’ve got backups on our hard drives, of course, but it would be a great loss if someone had stolen those.” She nodded at the file.
“So what were they after?”
Max’s question dropped into the room like a lead balloon, bringing a frown to Frank’s face and a worried look to Peta and Phoebe.
“I wish I knew.” The lieutenant eased himself off the desk. “There were a lot of boxes dumped out, books thrown around, it seems they were looking for something. But God knows what.” He sighed. “Phoebe, about all I can do for now is have one of my guys dust for prints. Can you all drop by later and give me samples of your fingerprints? We’re bound to find them all over the place, and I need to be able to distinguish between those that belong here and those that don’t.”
Three nods answered him, and Phoebe passed him a bunch of keys. “These are my spares, Frank. Take them, and I’ll lock up in a minute, when I leave. It’s all yours until you tell me otherwise.”
Shortly thereafter the “authorities” left the scene, promising to return with a fingerprint kit.
Phoebe sighed. “I suppose I’ll just lock up then, and leave it. Can’t start tidying up until the guys are done with their ‘dusting’ stuff.”
Voices sounded in the front office, and Max moved quickly to the door. Peta noticed him frown and followed, with Phoebe right behind her. All three moved into the reception area, closing the door on the disaster within.
Edward Sharp and Cary Stiles were standing on the doorstep, looking rattled and uneasy, and both trying to push forward at the same time.
“Peta, are you all right?” Cary’s smooth tones flowed through the room.
“I saw the police here, Phoebe. What on earth happened, eh? What happened?” asked Edward repetitively.
Peta closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, wishing they’d both go away. Far away. Like Australia or someplace. She didn’t need this right now.
Max didn’t need it either. He wanted to check the place out, make sure it was locked, get Phoebe settled, and then take Peta home. They had some unfinished business to attend to.
Cary won the battle of who was going to get inside first, pushing past Edward with a grunt. He immediately moved towards Peta.
She stepped back, right up against Max’s chest.
“Peta, my dear, are you all right? What happened? The police...I was so worried.” His handsome face creased in a frown as he stared at her, and held out his hand.
“How kind, Cary.”
Max noted her frosty tones with a certain amount of male pleasure. It was, after all, his chest she’d plastered herself against, not Cary’s.
Realizing that his hand was still waving uselessly in the air, Cary stuck it in his pocket. “Well, we don’t see emergency vehicles rushing around town too often,” he paused. “Until recently, that is.”
His gaze rose to meet Max’s. “Until all these newcomers starting showing up.”
The implication was quite clear, and Max caught the little hiss as Peta sucked in a breath through her teeth.
“Cary, you’re being absurd. Someone broke in last night and trashed the office. Probably some kids out for a spree or something. Nothing was stolen, as far as we can tell, and other than the mess, no harm was done. I’m sure Phoebe appreciates your concern, but there’s nothing you can do here.”
The dismissal was firm, unsubtle, and Cary’s eyes narrowed as he took in her stance against Max’s chest.
“I see.” His tone of voice said as much as his raised eyebrow. “And I suppose you can account for his whereabouts last night, can you?”
Max flinched, struggling to hold on to his temper. Only Peta’s warmth against him stopped him from taking Cary by the ear and teaching him some manners.
Pet
a’s next words surprised him. “Yes I can. All night. All night, Cary. Do I make myself clear?”
The veneer of charm dropped from Cary Stiles’s face for a second or so, letting a cold light shine from his eyes. “Oh yes. Perfectly clear.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice so that only Peta and Max could hear. “But don’t come crying to me when Romeo here dumps you and moves on.”
He turned on his heel and stalked out before Max could choke him. And choking him was the first thing on the list of the things he wanted to do to Cary Stiles. Followed by some rather intense discussion in which fists would be involved, and probably concluding with a well-placed boot to the balls.
“That little shit,” he breathed.
Peta shivered a little. “Did you see his face? I’ve never seen somebody get so cold all of a sudden.”
“My, my. Cary left rather quickly, didn’t he? My, my...” Edward turned from his conversation with Phoebe as the door slammed behind Cary.
Max sighed, letting his muscles relax a little. Cary might have gone, but Max wouldn’t forget. Wolfes were known for their ability to carry a grudge.
“Thanks for coming by, Edward,” said Phoebe.
The door opened again, and Struthers poked his head in. “Everybody all right? Anything I can do?”
“Oh Struthers,” said Phoebe. “How kind. Just a bit of a burglary, that’s all.”
A frown crossed Struther’s face and he moved to her, taking her hand in his. “Nothing too valuable missing, I hope? Good heavens,” he looked around the room. “What is this town coming to? Murders? Robberies?”
Edward’s chest swelled. “Our town has the finest police force in the county, Struthers. The finest. I’m sure they’ll have things well in hand.”
“He seems to be taking all this quite personally, doesn’t he?” whispered Max into Peta’s ear.
“It is his town, you know. In his own mind, anyway.”
“Of course we do,” soothed Phoebe. “Struthers, would you mind terribly following me home? I’m really feeling a bit shaky at the moment.”
Struthers paused. “My pleasure, dear. But...” he glanced at Max and Peta. “I say, would you two object to keeping an eye on the library for an hour or two?”
Max met the man’s eyes. Clearly Struthers was caught in a dilemma. He wanted to take Phoebe home, but didn’t want to neglect his duties.
“Excellent notion, Struthers. Excellent,” said Edward, glancing out the window. “Look, Phoebe, leave your car here. Go with Struthers. I’m sure Peta and Max can handle the library this morning. And I’ll formally declare this afternoon an early-closing...” he nodded outside. “If this keeps up, doubt that anyone is going to be doing much traveling anyway. If it keeps up.”
They all looked outside. The gray skies were spitting ice pellets, and Peta winced, knowing how miserable driving would become if it went on for any length of time.
“I’d better go alert the troops. Sand, salt, that sort of thing. Muster the troops.” He headed for the door. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, won’t you, Phoebe? Anything I can do?”
Peta sighed as he left. “You know, he’s got a good heart under all that bluster,” she said.
“Yes he does. Yes he does.” Max couldn’t resist it.
“You, Max Wolfe, are a bad man.” Peta’s grin was genuine and relaxed for the first time since they’d arrived at the office, and it warmed his heart.
Phoebe was gathering her belongings together. “Well,” she sighed, “I’ll be off then. Struthers will drive me home. Will you two be okay at the library?”
Peta chuckled. “Phoebe. This is me, remember? The book queen?”
Struthers laughed. “I have no concerns, Peta. Now if you can get Max here into some good reading—“
Phoebe snorted, but he ignored her. “Like Clancy, or Deighton, or something...just check the fiction section. Plenty of good stuff there.”
Struthers held the door for Phoebe and the two headed out. But Phoebe couldn’t resist taking a parting shot. She turned her head and grinned at them both over her shoulder.
“I’d also suggest the Kama Sutra. Reference section, aisle three. Fourth shelf from the bottom.” It was a stage whisper that crossed the room quite clearly, and made Peta’s face burn.
“Good to know,” chuckled Max.
Bloody hell. As if they needed a reference book on sex. Peta snickered to herself as they locked up the office and headed towards the library. Max could probably have written it, or at least given the author a few pointers.
“What’s that enigmatic little grin for?” His bent his head down and his hazel eyes met hers as they strolled carefully through the sleet.
Peta blinked. He should get those damned eyes licensed as dangerous weapons. One glance and she was creaming her panties. She jerked her thoughts back to his question. “I was just wondering at Phoebe’s precise knowledge of the whereabouts of that book.”
“Oh,” said Max sagely. “I thought perhaps you were wondering what was in it.”
“Certainly not.”
“Pity.”
“Why?”
“I thought it might be—interesting—to find out....”
Chapter Sixteen
“Fucking Christ.”
The explosive comment followed the slamming of Diana Stiles’ shop door, almost knocking the bell onto the floor.
“My, my, Cary dear. Such a temper. “ Diana strolled to the window and looked out, sighing. “I don’t think it’s worth even opening today. Look at this. Sleet, ice, people aren’t going to bother to come out at all.”
“I don’t give a shit about your fucking store.” Cary growled as he paced.
“Well, fuck you too. So what was going on down at Phoebe’s? I saw the police there?”
“Some kids trashed the place, I guess. I don’t know. Who cares?” He ran his hand through his carefully arranged hair.
“Pity,” said Diana. “I’d rather hoped somebody had strangled that bitch Peta and put her out of both our misery.”
“If you think you’re going to get your claws back into Max Wolfe, you can forget about it. He’s fucking her, Diana. Damn near came right out and said so.”
Diana’s mouth hardened. “Oh really?”
“Yeah, really,” sneered Cary. “Looks like your legendary sexual skills weren’t enough for him, huh?”
Diana glared at her brother. “Like you? You never even got into that bitch’s pants, Cary, let me remind you. She turned you down flat. Now you’ll never know what that little British cunt feels like, will you?”
Cary’s hand lifted, and Diana pinned him with a glare colder than the ice falling outside the window. “Don’t even think about it,” she hissed.
Sagging, he let his hand fall back to his side. “Fuck it all, Diana.”
“Still can’t come up with the cash?”
The question hung between them, as Cary leaned against the counter with a sigh. “Nope. I’m in big trouble, sis.”
“Sorry. Can’t help you.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Look, Cary. You’ve got the fucking gambling problem, not me. You’re the one who went out on a limb with those new restaurants when I advised against it. Everything I have is tied up in this place. You know it and I know it.”
“So what am I gonna do?”
“Sell that goddamned house, for chrissake. I’ve told you time and time again.”
Cary shook his head. “Can’t. Mortgaged to the hilt. I’d lose more on that deal than I’ve lost to Vincenzo.”
“Well, in that case, don’t come whining to me. I’ve got my own troubles, and I don’t need yours.” She stared at him coldly.
“You are such a fucking piece of work, sister dear. No wonder Wolfe doesn’t want your ass any more.”
“Get out.” Her tone was vicious. “Get the fuck out.”
“I’m going. Sometimes I think Vincenzo is a nicer person to deal with than you. He only breaks a guy’s legs
. He can’t hold a candle to you.”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Diana winced as the door slammed behind her brother once more.
The curtain separating the store from the back room moved slightly, and Diana checked the locks and turned out the lights. Business was over before it had begun.
She stepped through the curtains.
He was waiting.
The expressionless face of Mike Dean watched her as she moved towards him, her fists clenched.
“Lose the skirt,” he growled.
“What?”
“The skirt. Lose it. We both know your pussy is naked under there. Don’t make the mistake of playing with me. You’re hot right now, and I want to fuck. Lose the skirt.”
With narrowed eyes Diana reached for her zipper, lowering it slowly.
“Drop it and come here.”
She licked her lips at his harsh command, and stepped out of her skirt as it fell to the floor.
“Lose that shit too.” He gestured at her garter belt.
She pouted. “But I like it.”
“I don’t. Get your ass naked. Now.” His hands dropped to his fly and he opened his jeans, letting his cock fall free.
Diana stripped off her garters and stockings, never lifting her eyes from his cock. “Okay.”
He stood still, letting her approach, waiting, watching, only his arousal showing his readiness.
“Now what?” Diana finally met his unblinking stare.
“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” His question required no answer. “Put your hands on the back of the couch.”
Diana bent over, resting her palms along the worn fabric.
Mike raised his hand and brought it down hard, the sound of the slap ringing throughout the small room, and almost knocking Diana off her feet.
She moaned. “Christ, Mike—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Hiss hand came down again, leaving another bright red mark on her buttock.
“Owwww...”
Roughly, he dragged her snug sweater up her body, pulling it to her neck and over her arms, effectively muffling her head in the fabric. “I said shut up.”
A mumble came from inside the wool.
My Hero Page 12
