"That's not necessary," Mia began, but she was too late. Bland Muzak played through the phone. Mia glanced at Finn, then looked away. Sorry she'd called? Sorry she'd put the phone on speaker?
Before he could figure out which, his godfather's voice boomed over the phone. "Officer Donovan. This is Doug Walsh. Mary tells me there's been another letter."
Mia's left foot jittered on the carpet. She ran her hand through her hair once. Then again. Interesting. Take-no-prisoners Officer Donovan was flustered by talking to his godfather. "Yes, sir. It was on the newspaper this morning. It's threatening. More specific than the previous two contacts. I'm concerned, and called to have someone pick up the letter and take it to the lab."
"Threatening how?"
His godfather's voice dropped an octave. Mia darted a glance at Finn, then took a breath. "There was a snippet about Mr. O'Rourke in the newspaper yesterday. The Sun, I think. I checked the Herald Tribune and didn't see it there. It talked about Mr. O'Rourke being spotted at the Art Institute with an unnamed woman." She cleared her throat. "Me. He wanted to see the museum, and I didn't think there was any reason not to. He, um, wore a disguise."
"Those stupid dad pants and the geek glasses?" the superintendent demanded.
A smile flitted across Mia's face, then disappeared. "Yes, Sir. Exactly."
"Told him that disguise was completely lame. He should have worn a beard. Or a wig. Something that would disguise his face better."
Mia's foot stopped jiggling. "I agree, Sir. And next time, he will."
There was a slight pause. Then Doug said, "Good to hear, Officer. I knew I could count on Talbott to put the right person on this job. Finian is important to a lot of people."
She glanced at him, her eyes crinkling as she mouthed, "Finian?"
He narrowed his eyes, but Mia didn't notice as she said, "I know he's important to you and the rest of his family. I'm working on figuring out who this stalker might be."
"What have you done so far?"
"I have a list of the people who are part of the film crew, both the ones from California and the local hires. I've also received a list of new hires at the Drake, going back to when the film studio agreed to a deal with the hotel. I've been checking each of them with the database."
"Find anything yet?"
"Unfortunately, no. But I'll continue tonight."
"Why not today?" His godfather's voice sharpened.
"Because filming starts today," she said. Her voice was calm. Unapologetic. "I need to stay with him at the studio."
"Then send a copy of those lists with the letter. I'll have some of my people work on them."
"With all due respect, sir, it's not a job I'd assign to a civilian. I'd be concerned they wouldn't know what to look for."
His godfather snorted. "My people may be office rats now, but they started out on the street. They know how to run a suspect through a database."
Mia's face turned red. "Of course, sir. Sorry. I didn't mean to imply…"
"You're not sorry," Doug interrupted. "And I don't want you to be. I'm glad you're taking this seriously. Thank you, Officer Donovan."
"Of course I'm taking it seriously." Mia bristled. "It's my job."
There was a pause, then his godfather said, "Tell Finn to behave. Although I suspect you have him on speaker. That’s what I would do with a knucklehead like him. Behave yourself, Finn," he said more loudly, and Finn heard the smile in his voice. "Don't give Officer Donovan any reasons to call me again."
"Go to hell, Doug," he said.
Laughing, Chicago's Superintendent of Police disconnected the phone.
At the same time, someone knocked at the door.
Chapter 11
Rattled from both the stalker's letter and her conversation with the superintendent, Mia instinctively reached for her gun as she reached the door. As she glanced into the spy hole, her shoulders relaxed and she let her hand fall from the grip of her Glock.
"Pete," she said as she opened the door. "You're early."
Pete frowned. "What are you talking about? I'm right on time." He tapped his watch. "Eight A.M. On the nose."
"God, Pete," Finn groaned behind her. "We haven't even had coffee yet."
"Not my fault, O'Rourke." His gaze shifted from Finn to Mia. "Should I even ask why you haven't had your coffee?"
A hot flush rushed up Mia's cheeks as memories of her dreams from the night before unspooled through her brain. Which was so unfair.
If she was going to blush like an idiot, she should at least have had more than sexy dreams to justify the heat in her face. To make it worse, Finn clearly knew what she was thinking. His suddenly hot gaze made everything clench inside her.
On her other side, Pete raised one eyebrow. Smirked, as if he could see directly into her brain and knew exactly what she was thinking.
Trying to gather her composure, she walked to the mini bar and grabbed two cardboard cups and plastic tops. "We can drink it in the car." She looked over her shoulder. "You want a cup, Pete?"
"Nah, I got up in time for breakfast." One side of his mouth twitched. "But thanks."
She prepared a cup for herself, then glanced at Finn. "What do you want?"
He stared at her, his hunger clear, and her temperature rose ten degrees. Made her clench again. "Cream. No sugar," he finally said.
He wanted the same as her. In her coffee, she added when her brain went to the dangerous place again.
She turned her back so neither man could see her hands shake as she poured the coffee. Snapping on the lids, she shoved them both in Finn's direction. "You carry them." At least she had enough wits about her to remember her job.
The ride down the elevator and the walk through the corridor to the loading dock was uneventful. They saw no one on the way.
Once inside the car, Pete raised the screen between the front and back seat without asking. Finn handed Mia one of the cups. They sipped in silence for a long moment.
Finally, Finn said, "I had a hard time sleeping last night, so I went into the living room. Your door was open." Heat simmered in his gaze. "Was that an invitation?"
She sighed in relief. A question she could answer without any subtext or knowing looks. "Of course it wasn't. If I want you in…" She stopped dead, appalled at what had slipped out of her mouth.
Clearing her throat, she said, "I can't close the door when I'm sleeping. I need to be able to hear if someone tries to get into the suite."
"You double locked the door," he said, leaning back against the seat. One corner of his mouth twitched. "Put on the safety lock. We're on the twelfth floor, so no one's coming in through the window. Are you sure you didn't have other reasons for leaving your door open?"
"Are you sure you didn't take a blow to the head somewhere between last night and this morning?" she shot back. "Because you don't seem to have a very good grasp of reality."
"I wanted to come in," he murmured, easing closer to her. "I thought maybe you wanted me in there, too."
She recognized the lemon ginger scent of his soap as it drifted over her – the French milled bars the hotel provided. Knowing she smelled the same way shouldn't have been sexy. But somehow it was. "Really?" she managed to say. "My open bedroom door is what you want to discuss? Not the escalating threats from your stalker?"
"Nothing we can do about that right now," he said. "And we have some time to kill before Pete drops us off. So let's discuss."
She glanced out the window. The streets were clogged with cars, buses and taxis. Pedestrians hurried across the street, many of them darting in and out of stopped cars in the time-honored Chicago tradition of jaywalking.
No way was she going to talk about her open bedroom door and his interest in being invited in. "I have a better idea. Fill me in on what happens today," she said, turning to face him as she pulled out her notebook. "Start from the moment we walk in the door."
He held her gaze for a long moment, his expression promising that he wouldn't forget. Then he eased aw
ay from her. "Before or after we get back to the hotel?"
Mia closed her eyes. Between her dreams and the attraction that felt like a bungee cord stretched more and more tightly between them, it was going to be a long three weeks. Time to nip all this sexy flirting in the bud before that rubber cord snapped and they slammed into each other.
"Cut the crap, O'Rourke. I'm not interested in your delusional fantasies. All I want is to keep you alive."
* * *
More than ten hours later, Mia leaned against a wall and hoped no one had heard her stomach growl. She'd spent the day moving from one set to the next, and from there to a green screen. Every stop had involved more waiting around than actual filming. Making a movie was unbelievably boring.
Watching the costume designer fuss with Finn that morning had been fun, though, especially when the middle-aged woman had busied herself very close to his crotch. At one point, Mia was sure she'd adjusted his package. Finn had squirmed, his eyes darting to hers, and she'd grinned back at him.
She hadn't seen Finn rattled since she met him.
Other than behind the bandshell, her very unhelpful brain reminded her.
Mia had made a request of the costume woman while Finn had changed his clothes. When his dressing room door opened, she'd taken the bag from the woman, stuffed it in her purse and turned around to smile at him.
They'd gone from there to make-up, where he'd chatted with the make-up artist as if they were old friends. After that, they'd headed for the first set.
From then on, it had been take after take of the first scene. Mia could have recited everyone's lines by the time they finished. Then they'd repeated the whole thing for another scene.
She'd been afraid she'd stand out, but thankfully, that wasn't the case. Equipment crowded the studio – cameras, furniture, microphones, moveable walls, and about a million different pieces of electronic equipment. Thick cables criss-crossed the floor, and X's of blue, red and yellow tape covered the floors. The actors' marks, she realized after a while.
There was so much stuff, so many people milling around, calling out orders, shouting at each other, that Mia, sitting off to the side, was essentially invisible.
Exactly what she wanted.
She studied everyone, but focused on the women. Most stalkers were men, and Finn's could be, too, but her gut told her a woman was behind the notes. The wording was…feminine.
As she shifted her feet, stretching tired muscles, a woman who was one of Finn's co-stars walked over. "Hi," she said. "I'm Jenna Stanton. The woman in the love triangle with Derek and Finn's character. Derek is the hero," she added, as if Mia hadn't been watching the filming all day and didn't recognize superstar Derek Sawyer.
Mia shook the woman's hand, sizing her up. She was a few years older than Mia, but strikingly beautiful with long chestnut hair, hazel eyes and perfect features. A slender but very curvy body, a shape Mia was pretty sure wasn't found in nature.
"Nice to meet you, Jenna. I'm Mia."
"So I hear you're Finn's girlfriend," she said, narrowing her eyes just a fraction.
"I am."
"And you're here because…?" The actor raised one eyebrow.
Mia shrugged one shoulder. "I like to be with Finn." Mia had to stop herself from wincing when she heard the high, squeaky voice of her alter-ego. "Plus I wanted to see what he did all day. It's really interesting."
Mia could read Jenna perfectly – she wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, the other woman said, "It's a lot of standing around and doing nothing. What did you do all day?"
Check out people like you to make sure you don't hurt him. "Oh, I watched Finn. He looks completely different."
"Yeah, the costume and make-up will do that." She scanned Mia's suit and flat shoes. "Where did you meet him? You don't seem like his usual type."
And you think you are, Mia realized, her hackles rising. "He's a friend of a friend." Mia faked a giggle. "It was a blind date. We've been…" She'd almost said inseparable. But girlfriend Mia wouldn't use a word like that. "It was love at first sight."
Jenna stared at her for a long moment, her eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed, as if trying to intimidate Mia into handing over rights to Finn.
Girlfriend Mia disappeared and cop Mia took over. "I don't remember seeing any of your films," she said. "What movies have you been in?" Mia had done her homework and knew Jenna had had minor roles in a few short-lived television series and two tiny, barely distributed indie movies. This was her first major movie.
Jenna's expression tightened. "I've been in several projects." The other woman studied her for a long moment. "Probably none that you've seen. They played in art houses."
"I'll look you up on IMDB." Mia smiled. "Can't wait to watch them."
A muscle clenched in Jenna's jaw. "I need to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything while you're on the set. I'd be happy to help you."
Mia watched Jenna walk away, her hips swaying. Yeah, I just bet you would.
She'd ask Finn about Jenna Stanton tonight.
Finally, an hour later, Finn headed toward her, stopping only when the director called his name. They talked for a couple of minutes, Sean slapped his back, and Finn smiled. Nodded.
When he reached her, he grabbed her hand. "Let's go," he said, his voice low and a little hoarse.
He didn't say anything as he almost dragged her toward the dressing rooms. After she checked the small space, she waited in the hall while he changed into his jeans and tee and removed his make-up.
Still silent, they walked out of the studio to Pete's waiting car.
As they slid onto the seat, Finn exhaled. Leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. Rapped twice on the privacy glass, and Pete pulled into traffic.
Mia had dozens of questions she wanted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut and leaned against the seat, as well. Finn wanted silence. She knew, because she needed to decompress after a day at work, too.
Finn finally opened his eyes and turned to face her. "I don't want to go back to the hotel right away. I need to unwind. Eat something besides hotel food. Any place you could recommend?"
"There are a lot of restaurants downtown that have great food," she began, trying to think of a place where Finn wouldn't be conspicuous. "But they're places where celebrities go when they're in town. Not sure we want to go to any of them."
"See and be seen joints." He shook his head. "No. Not that. I want someplace real. Someplace I can go and relax. I don't want to worry that some celebrity spotter will see us and we'll end up in the newspaper again."
Mia didn’t want that, either. A snippet in the celebrity news columns about Finn being seen with a woman, two days in a row, might push his stalker over the edge. "There's a pub in my neighborhood," she said. "Craft beers on tap, decent food and a booth in the back where it's a little dark and you'd be less conspicuous. Oscar's."
"Sounds perfect." He rapped on the window, and it rolled down. "Pete, we're going to get some food and a beer. Oscar's."
He glanced at Mia, and she leaned forward. "Take Lake Shore Drive north," she told him. "Get off at Belmont. I'll pull up the directions on my phone."
Mia slid it out of her pocket, scrolled through her contacts until she found Oscar's, and hit dial. When the hostess answered, she said, "Hi. Is that booth in the back, in the left hand corner, available?"
"Hold on while I check," the woman said. Moments later she picked up the phone. "Not right now, but the people are about ready for their check. Do you want me to hold it for you?"
"That would be great. Donovan's the name. We're maybe fifteen minutes away."
"See you then."
After ending the call, Mia found Oscar's on the map, waited until it mapped out the route, then handed the phone to Pete. "Violet will tell you where to turn."
"Violet?" Finn asked with a twinkle.
"Don't you name the voice on your phone?" she asked, surprised.
"No. Interesting that you do, though. E
specially that the tough cop chose such a whimsical name." He smiled, and some of the tension in his shoulders melted away. "You're full of surprises, Officer Donovan."
Mia shrugged. "Makes routine stuff less boring," she said.
He stared at her for another long moment, as if he wanted to ask something else, but finally said, "Tell me about Oscar's."
"Nothing really to tell. It's just a neighborhood place. My brothers and I all live in the area, and we get together there after work once in a while. That's how I know about that booth in the back." She smiled, remembering a couple of dates when she'd been seated back there.
Finn leaned closer. The green in his eyes had narrowed to a tiny rim around his black pupils. "What have you done in that booth in the corner, Officer?"
Without stopping to think, she said, "Drank a beer or two. Talked to my brothers."
She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth and stuff the words back inside. She was flirting with him, for God's sake.
Finn moved again, and he was suddenly close enough that his breath fanned across her neck and ruffled the hair behind her ear. "You weren't thinking about your brothers. Who were you thinking about?"
His low voice and warm breath made her shiver. His shoulder was almost touching hers, and she resisted the urge to move closer. She should move away, but she resisted that, as well. If she moved, he'd know he'd affected her.
It would put her at a disadvantage.
Right now, she needed every edge she could get. Taking him to Oscar's might not have been her best idea ever. She was too comfortable there. She might forget her job, slip up, say things she shouldn't say.
"Must have been one hot date," Finn murmured into her ear. "If it's taking you this long to censor it for a general audience."
"Don't…don't be ridiculous." Her voice was too breathy. Too bothered. And it wasn't because she was thinking about the flirting and occasional handsy-ness that had happened in that booth.
No, it was because she was thinking about sitting in that secluded, intimate booth with Finn.
Pulling herself together, she said, "Nothing has gone on at Oscar's, except a bunch of cops griping about suspects and cases."
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