Strictly Yours: Hooded Pleasures, Book 3

by Sheryl Nantus

  “I agree. Be careful.” Wendy kissed Jen’s cheek. “You both did the right thing by calling us. We’ll respect Charles’s wishes as much as we can, but we’ve got to find out who this is before anyone else gets hurt. We’ll work as fast as we can. If anything happens, you call 911 and to hell with the fallout.” She smiled. “We’ll survive. The important thing is you both stay safe.” With a nod toward Nathan she headed out the door.

  A throbbing behind her left temple signaled a major migraine in Jen’s future. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and not think about anything or anyone.

  Her worlds were colliding with earth-shattering consequences, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

  “I guess I’ve got to leave now too.” Nathan’s tone didn’t agree with his words. The underlying anger both warmed and terrified her. “She’s probably going to wait downstairs until I do.”

  Jen didn’t chuckle, because she knew he was right.

  “It’s for the best.” She drew a deep breath. “Wendy’s correct. We’ve got to let HP’s internal system deal with this before we make any assumptions or further decisions. They’ve got better resources, and if we’re not going to pull the police into it—”

  “You mean pull the police into it yet,” Nathan corrected her. “As soon as we have something on Tanner, we can yank his chain, get his parole revoked.” He tapped his chest. “I’ll be right there to drag his ass back into a cell. I promise.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “But until then, we have to keep acting like everything’s fine. He might have already realized we’re onto him with our visits to Charles. We’ve got to act as normal as possible and not tip our hand. I’ll see you on Sunday unless something happens between now and then.”

  The last few words tasted like iron in her mouth, bloody letters on her tongue.

  Nathan moved closer. “Look, let me take some time off and stay with you. It’s likely he already knows the gig is up. This guy isn’t stupid. If he’s been following you and watching, he knows Wendy’s been here, he knows I’m here, he’ll change his plans and—”

  She touched his forearm. “That’s a few days away. Hopefully by then we’ll have more information to go on, and either we’ll go to the cops or something—” She shook her head. “You can’t change your life either. It’ll alert him something’s off. We have to trust Wendy and her people, let them take the lead. Right now, we don’t have any other choice.”

  “I might have to agree, but I don’t have to like it,” Nathan growled. “Can you at least call me when you get to work tonight so I know you’re safe?”

  She paused, torn between wanting to accommodate him and dealing with her own emotional storm.

  We need some space between us.

  I can’t depend on you no matter how much you want me to.

  I can stand on my own.

  I have to.

  “I’ll send you a text.”

  “Okay.” He reached for his coat. “I’m going home. If someone’s watching you, my staying here isn’t going to help the situation any.”

  She ached to reach out and touch his cheek, stroke away the pain in his eyes.

  “I know you don’t like this.” Jen watched him shrug on his leather jacket. “I’m not keen on it either. Please be careful.”

  “I can handle myself,” Nathan retorted. “I’m not weak.”

  She winced inside at the response.

  You idiot, she berated herself. Of course he’s going to think that.

  Jen stepped up and put her hand on his shoulder.

  “I have no doubt about your strength. You’ve proven that to me time and time again.” She squeezed and felt the iron under her fingers. “This isn’t about us. It’s about keeping others safe. It’s about finding who this is and putting them in jail.” She couldn’t hold back a smirk. “Although I don’t think Wendy would weep if he fell a few times on the way up the courthouse steps.”

  The answering smile soothed her heart.

  “Okay.” He nodded. “But as soon as I leave, you lock this place up tight. Check the locks on your windows, all the usual stuff. And keep your phone handy with 911 on speed dial.”

  “Promise.” She lifted up onto her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Go now.”

  Nathan took hold of her arms before she could move back, holding her close against him.

  Jen swallowed hard as he gazed into her eyes.

  “Do you want me to stay?” he whispered. “All you have to do is ask. Screw Wendy, screw HP and their rules.” His dark brown eyes were hypnotic, demanding an answer from her.

  “I—” She couldn’t catch her breath, her heart racing. “I think you should go.”

  It took the last of her mental strength to move out of his embrace.

  “All right.” Nathan lowered his head and turned toward the door. “I’ll listen to what you want.” He looked back at her and the smoldering stare made her knees weak. “For now.”

  “Yes. For now,” Jen repeated. “Because I said so.”

  Nathan looked back with a grin. “And because I let you.”

  He strode out the door, leaving her both confused and frustrated.

  * * * * *

  The drive back to his house seemed to take hours, his numb hands barely able to keep a firm grip on the steering wheel. The empty plastic container slid around on the passenger seat with the file folder underneath it. The heater was going full blast, but he couldn’t feel it, the coldness seeping through his bones and chilling his insides.

  No matter how this turns out, things will never be the same.

  He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not.

  Nathan pulled into his parking spot and surveyed the street using the rearview mirror.

  Are you here, you bastard? Waiting for a chance to jump me?

  Bring it on.

  An elderly couple strolled down the sidewalk, bundled against the chilly breeze coming in from the lake.

  A lone man marched along the street, deftly sidestepping the seniors as he mumbled into his cell phone. His book bag slapped his hip as he looked both ways before crossing the street and moving down an alley and out of sight.

  Tanner could be anywhere.

  Once he picked up her trail, it was just a case of blending in and watching where she went, who she saw.

  If he was stalking her, he’d see Jen with three different men.

  God knows what he’d think.

  Nathan turned the engine off. He grabbed the file folder and the plastic container and got out.

  Screw this.

  He wasn’t going to sit around and wait until this madman came at him or worse, came at Jen.

  That wasn’t how this was going to work.

  He strode up the walkway to his house with as much swagger as he could muster, hoping against hope Tanner would leap out of the bushes at him and this would come to a quick end.

  No one did.

  He unlocked the door and gave one last look around before stepping in. The early evening air chilled his lungs and reminded him it wasn’t going to be getting warm anytime soon.

  Bastard can freeze out here.

  He slammed the door and headed for the kitchen. The plastic container went into the sink to be washed later, the file folder onto the counter top so he could go through it again.

  HP had their own resources, their contacts.

  But Nathan was one step ahead with the file he’d culled through calling in favors. It might not be as in-depth as whatever connections HP was using, but he had it here and now and at his fingertips.

  He flipped through the pages to find out where Tanner’s halfway house was.

  He might have promised Wendy he wasn’t going to make a run at Tanner, but she said nothing about poking around the edges.

  * * * * *

 
Parkdale had once been known for large, opulent houses that allowed their owners to enjoy the cool breezes coming in off of Lake Ontario, but that era had passed a long, long time ago. In the present, the mansions had been hacked up into small illegal apartments with many falling into disrepair or worse, held together with the building equivalent of bailing wire and bubble gum. Many of the houses had been converted into rooming houses, stacking the poor and disaffected into small rooms while their absent landlords collected the majority of their pension or disability checks.

  The cool breeze came in off the lake, whistling through the alleys and chilling the blood of those who slept in the stairwells.

  Nathan knew this area well. It was part of his division area and his patrol route. The irony of having Tanner so close wasn’t lost on him—but given most communities didn’t want any halfway houses anywhere nearby, it wasn’t surprising Parkdale had an uncommonly high number of them, and Tanner, being a recent parolee, would be in one.

  The thought didn’t cheer him up any.

  He’d left his car behind and taken the streetcar into the area. If he was being followed, it’d make the job harder and Nathan would have the advantage with the evening crowds filling the streets. He intentionally twisted his trip backward and sideways, hopping on and off streetcars and buses until he reached his goal on one of the side streets running off of King Street.

  A lovely two-story house. Wrought iron fence surrounding it, keeping it segregated from the other properties. Dark green vines crawled up the walls, reaching almost to the second-floor windows.

  Nathan stopped in front of the home. If he hadn’t known the true purpose, he’d have thought it was just another dwelling.

  An elderly man hobbled by him on a cane, grinning as he glanced at the fence. “She’s a beaut, eh? You don’t see work like that anymore. I’ve been living here for twenty years, and she keeps getting better with age.” He gestured at himself. “Just like me.”

  He laughed, and Nathan chuckled.

  The senior tapped the iron bars with his free hand. “When they moved in, I told them to leave the roses. The rose bushes in front here always blossom good in the spring.”

  Nathan peered at the barren shrubs inside the gate. “I’m sure they do.” He smiled at the senior. “Who’s they?”

  “Government house,” the man answered in a conspiratorial whisper. “We’re not supposed to know it’s there ’cause it’s not good for the neighborhood.” He let out a rattling laugh through his few remaining teeth. “The hookers on the corner ain’t good either. Or the junkies who keep trying to beg money off me on my way back from the bank.” He eyed Nathan and gave a sly wink. “You ain’t either of those.”

  “I was looking at the house for sale the next street over.” Nathan jerked his thumb at the house beside them. “Good to know who my neighbors might be.”

  “Good for you. Best of luck.” The senior laughed and moved on down the street, shaking his head.

  Nathan turned back toward the house and spotted a figure peering out an upper window, the drab gray curtain tugged aside for a second.

  Then it fell back into place, and he was alone.

  Nathan sauntered along the sidewalk, pondering his next move.

  If this were a movie, he’d wait for Tanner and jump the fool, drag him into the shadows and demand a confession.

  Except in this reality, there was no way he could do that and get away with it. He might want to protect Jen, but he couldn’t jeopardize a possible court case by confronting Tanner.

  At least not yet.

  Not to mention there was a chance, slim in Nathan’s opinion, that Tanner was innocent. The last thing he needed was Tanner going to his parole officer and whining about being harassed.

  But he did know what the man looked like.

  Tanner was in his early thirties with brown eyes and long black hair falling over his shoulders. He’d glared at the camera as if daring it to say anything, anything to trigger his rage.

  Nathan wanted to believe the idiot had learned something over the past few years.

  Nathan knew from experience that what he wanted and reality weren’t the same.

  He turned and studied the building again from a distance. There were plenty of ways for someone to leave other than through the front door. A fire escape on the side of the house would allow easy escape at all hours.

  All it would take was someone not to be looking at the right spot at the right time.

  “Hey.”

  Nathan spun to see a heavyset man glaring at him from the open front door.

  “Hey,” Nathan answered automatically.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Nope.” Nathan nodded at the house. “Just admiring the architecture.”

  “Really.” The man walked up to the fence and crossed his arms. He wore jeans and a dark green sweatshirt. “Because a cop standing on my street and staring at my house gets my attention damn fast.”

  “Your house?”

  “Dave McTeague.” He didn’t offer his hand. “I’m the manager for the halfway house here. And don’t tell me you don’t know who the hell I am or what that is. Or that you’re not a cop. I can see you guys a mile away.” He jabbed a thumb at the gate. “Come on in and talk if you wanna talk, or get the hell out of here. I don’t have time to chase you around. Got a pie in the oven, and it’s almost ready to come out.”

  Nathan followed him in, noting the silence around them.

  The first-floor dining room had been converted into an office. Dave led him in and closed the door.

  His expression changed from an angry frown to a cheerful smirk.

  He jabbed a thumb at the closed door. “Sorry ’bout the tough attitude out there, but the guys here depend on me being all bad-ass when it comes to the public image.” He motioned Nathan to a folding chair set up beside a battered wooden desk. “It’s hard to keep a balance at times between keeping good public relations and letting these guys know they’re not going to walk all over me while they get their act together. Please.”

  Nathan sat down. “I hear you. Hard to please two masters.”

  Or even one Mistress.

  Dave leaned back in the office chair, the high-pitched squeak straining Nathan’s ears. “So you’re a cop, and you’re here. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  Nathan paused long enough to bring a frown up on Dave’s face.

  “I wasn’t kidding about not wanting any trouble. If I can tell you’re a cop, everyone can, and I don’t need my guys freaking out.”

  Nathan showed his badge and tucked it back away. “First, this has to be off the record. I’ll understand if you tell me to pound sand.”

  Dave grinned. “Pounding sand is the least of my worries. How about you start, and I’ll tell you what I think can work for both of us.”

  “You’ve got a man here. Lucas Tanner.”

  Dave’s expression didn’t change.

  Damned poker player. Going to make me work for it.

  “I’m wondering how he’s doing. Is he giving you any trouble?”

  Dave studied Nathan. “You know I don’t have to talk to you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I’m going to talk to you, because I believe a man can change, and I think it’s important for him to be given a chance.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I believe if he were a danger to me or any of the other men here, you’d be here in uniform taking his ass back off the street.”

  “Yeah.”

  I’m not lying, Nathan said silently. We know who he’s a danger to.

  Dave shrugged. “Lucas Tanner’s been here since he got out. He’s attending anger management classes twice a week at the community center and doing his chores here without complaint. When he’s not here, he’s out applying for jobs. We have the record sheets of where he’
s put in a résumé, but, as you can guess, pickings are slim for an ex-con. Schedule has him moving out at the end of the month if he can find an apartment.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’d rather he move out of the area, but I suspect he’ll end up like the rest of them, grabbing some crappy room round here because they won’t ask for first and last month’s rent and don’t do reference checks.”

  “So you’re telling me he’s behaving like an angel.” Nathan couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  Dave threw his head back and laughed, a deep-bellied roar that shook the walls. “Hell, no. If he’s like the others, he’s been sneaking out at night, probably visiting the ladies on the corner or going to bars. He’s not the first to go out, and he won’t be the last. But there’s only me and my assistant, and neither of us has caught him in the act. Yet. And until then, I have to assume he’s playing by the rules.” His expression turned serious. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Do you know what he served time for?”

  Dave snorted. “You think I was born yesterday? I do. Damned idiot smacked his wife around and attacked a nurse. Some chippie got lucky and took him down before he could go full-tilt psycho.”

  Nathan bit the inside of his mouth, holding back his reply on the man’s criticism of Jen.

  Dave continued, “He’s full of piss and vinegar and annoyed as hell he got busted—I’m not sure if he really understands why it’s wrong to hit women, or he’s putting on a good face for his parole officer and the public. It’s hard to say whether the counseling took hold or not.”

  “Do you think he’s got revenge on his mind?”

  Dave nodded. “Sure. Like everyone else here. I can’t spit without hitting someone wanting to take a piece of out whoever ratted them out, didn’t put up the bail money, didn’t lie when they needed him or her to.” He eyed Nathan. “But, like I said before—I can’t say he’s broken any rules here.”

  “But you don’t know what he’s doing when he goes out,” Nathan replied. “You’ve only got his word to go on. Where is he now?”

  “He’s on his way back from an anger management support group. Anonymous, before you ask, so I can’t verify whether he went or not. All I got to go on is what he says, his word. In the end, that’s all we’ve got, no matter who you are.” Dave shrugged. “Show me Lucas Tanner breaking the law, and I’ll be the first one to kick his ass back behind bars. But the purpose of this house, of this sanctuary, is to give men like him a safe place to start again. He hasn’t done anything to warrant me calling the dogs on him.” He sighed. “And before you say another word, I want you to know I’ve turned men in. Caught them with drugs, knives and stolen goods in their rooms when they weren’t supposed to have any. Made the phone call and watched them bounce out that door and right back into jail, thrown away their best chance of making it out. But way more have used their time here to fix their lives and make a new world for themselves. You bring me evidence of him causing trouble, and I’ll throw him back into the pen.” He opened the desk drawer and plucked out a business card, which he slid over to Nathan. “In case you need to get hold of me.”