by Jennie Marts
Chapter One
THUD!
Zoey Allen’s eyes popped open.
She waited for her vision to adjust to the dim light of her bedroom. Searching the room, she noted her bedside clock read one-thirty-eight AM.
Nothing seemed out of place, but something had woken her up.
Her heart raced as she pushed herself upright in the bed.
Something was off. She could feel a disturbance in the air. Her heart jumped to her throat as she detected movement, a shift in the darkness.
Her ears strained for the slightest noise, and the hairs stood up on her arms as she detected a whisper of fabric, followed by a footstep.
“Zoey.”
Her name, spoken in a man’s voice, breathy and deep, sent shivers racing up her spine.
She reached for her cell phone on the bedside table. Her fingers barely touched the edge of the phone before it was knocked to the ground as a huge bulk of a man fell across her bed.
She screamed.
Pushing against him, her nostrils filled with the scent of sweat and a metallic coppery scent. And Axe body spray.
Wait. She knew that smell.
“Zoey,” he said again. Just one word. Just her name.
But it was enough. She stopped struggling. She recognized the voice. The body spray. The frame of the large man that had just fallen on her. “Teddy?”
She reached for the bedside lamp, but his big hand clamped on her arm. “Don’t. They’re coming. I had to warn you.”
“Teddy, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Teddy Grimes was her coworker at Cavelli Commerce. Both accountants, they’d had neighboring cubicles for the past several years.
Teddy was a big guy. Tall, slightly overweight, always hurrying into work and out of breath as he sunk into his office chair, a light sheen of sweat often dampening his drab brown hair against his forehead. Fast food wrappers littered his messy desk, the complete opposite of Zoey’s meticulously organized cubicle.
Still, she liked him. He made her laugh, and they’d become friends. Like his name, he was gentle and kind like a big teddy bear.
She was used to Teddy offering her an extra donut or grabbing her a coffee on his way in to work. And she trusted him enough to give him a key to her apartment to water her plants and pick up her mail when she’d recently been out of town.
But she hadn’t heard from him in days, and his presence in her bedroom at one in the morning told her something was very wrong.
He’d landed across her when he fell, and she reached out to push him off her lap. Her hands met his solid girth, and his shirt was wet. She jerked her hands back, her fingers tacky and damp.
Her heart leapt to her throat. Oh no.
She reached out and touched the small lamp next to her bed, bathing the room in soft light. She didn’t care what he said. She needed to see what was going on.
Her fears were realized. The coppery scent, the sticky wetness.
Teddy’s eyes were closed, his chest heaved with effort, and his white shirt bloomed with a large wet circle of crimson blood. So much blood. The deep color looking almost black in the soft light.
Zoey looked down at her hands and almost gagged. They were covered in blood as well. A perfect red fingerprint showed on the side of the lamp where she’d touched it.
She swallowed her instinct to scream. “Teddy, you’re hurt. You’ve got to let me call 911.”
He should his head. “No, I’ll be okay.”
“You’re not okay. You’re bleeding. What happened?”
“Stabbed me. Tried to fight them.” His breathing was labored. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I barely got away. I need to tell you something, then you need to run. Get somewhere safe. Before they find you.”
“Who?” She asked the question, but in her heart, she already knew.
“The Cavelli brothers. They know I have the final proof to put them away. Not just Carmine, but all of them.”
“What kind of proof?”
“Numbers. Data. Figures showing the money coming in and going out and who’s involved. I’ve been collecting the details of their money laundering scheme. I’ve known something was wrong for a long time but didn’t want to say anything ‘til I had concrete evidence. Then you called them out in the audit.” He gave her a half-hearted grin. “You are one brave chick.”
She didn’t know if she was brave or stupid.
She hadn’t known the extent of the scheme when she’d first uncovered it a few weeks ago. She’d collected as much evidence as she could before she reported it, then they’d fired her.
After receiving threatening messages, and having reporters constantly hounding her doorstep, she’d fled to the safety of her grandmother’s house in Pleasant Valley, about a half an hour’s drive from her apartment in Denver.
It hadn’t been much of an escape. In fact, she’d found herself in more danger there, and she still had the cuts, bruises, and purplish knot on her forehead to prove it. But at least in Pleasant Valley, she’d had the protection of Officer McCarthy, a local cop.
She’d only been back in Denver for a few days and was already missing the handsome police officer. Especially now—with holding the weight of her friend as he bled onto her comforter. Yeah, she could use Mac right about now.
Gathering the corner of her sheet, she pressed a wad of fabric against Teddy’s side. “Listen, you can tell me all of this later. Right now we’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
He shook his head, fear in his brown eyes. “No. You listen. You need to get out of here. After you reported them, the bosses brought in some computer guys to figure out what all you’d dug up. All the heat’s been on you, so I thought I was flying under the radar. But they must have found out I’d been downloading the figures, because a guy broke into my apartment tonight.”
He grimaced in pain as she applied pressure to his wound. “He told me he knew I had the evidence and to give it to him or he’d kill me.”
“So, did you give it to them?”
“No, it’s hidden. On a flash drive. I didn’t even have it, so I tried to fight him. But the bastard stabbed me. Then I knocked him in the head with my Xbox.”
“Oh, no.”
“I know. But it’s okay. I was gonna upgrade to the new PlayStation anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “I meant ‘oh, no’ to him stabbing you, not to the loss of the gaming system.”
“Oh, right. Well, that machine really came through because he went down, and I got out of there. But before we started fighting, he said something about needing to take care of the blonde bitch accountant that started this mess. I knew I had to warn you.”
She was terrified for herself, but her heart raced as she thought about the people in her family that the Cavellis could also threaten. Her mom and dad lived on a hippy commune out in the country with a whole community of people, but her Grandma Edna and newly-found grandfather, John, were easy targets in the small town of Pleasant Valley.
Teddy pressed his hand on top of hers. “Zoey, you’re the only person I trust, but they could be on their way here now. You’ve got to get out of here. Go somewhere safe. To someone you trust. These guys are so powerful, they have friends in the police department too.”
As if his words had conjured them, she heard a slam against her front door.
“They’re here.” Teddy tried to press himself up off the bed, but seemed too weak to stand. “You’ve gotta get outta here. Now.”
Zoey scrambled from the bed as she heard another crash against her door, this time accompanied by a sharp crack as the door frame splintered.
A pair of tennis shoes lay on the floor by the canvas backpack that she’d filled last night in preparation for going to the g
ym when she woke up. She stuffed her feet into the shoes and looked around for a jacket or shirt, but the room was in its normal tidy state with no stray clothes strewn about.
She wore a sexy blue pajama set of short-shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top. The material was a satiny light blue, and she normally didn’t wear pajamas like this at all. She usually wore shorts and a T-shirt. But there’d been a sale last week at Vickie’s Secret, and she’d bought the pajamas on impulse.
Thoughts of Mac, the cute cop, had filled her head when she’d made the purchase, and she’d put them on earlier thinking that tonight she just might be brave enough to text or call him.
But the satin pajamas held no super powers of bravery, and she’d chickened out again.
Now the sexy little top was covered in blood.
Her wallet was in the bag, and her keys lay on the side of her dresser. Good thing she was so organized. It helps to be prepared in case a wounded coworker and an intruder dropped by your house to kill you at one in the morning.
All of these crazy thoughts ran through her head in a matter of panicked seconds. She bent to look under the bed. “I need my phone.”
Teddy pushed her way. “Forget the phone. Get the hell out of here.”
“What about you?”
“Forget about me too. I’ll try to stall them. Get the drive. It’s hidden in my office. But then only give it to someone you trust completely.” He pushed to his feet.
She ran to the window and pushed the sill up. The window opened to a fire escape, and she dropped the backpack onto the metal grating. “Hidden where? How am I supposed to find it?”
Another loud crack, and she heard the front door give way.
Teddy held a finger to his lips, signaling her to keep quiet. He pointed at the window and mouthed the word go.
A male voice carried to the back bedroom. If he was speaking aloud, there must be at least two people. “You check up here, and I’ll find the bedroom. Somebody needs to teach this stupid bitch a lesson.”
This bitch wasn’t stickin’ around for any lessons.
Zoey climbed through the window, pulled it shut, then grabbed her backpack and ran down the stairs of the fire escape.
Her car was parked on the street, and the thought of being in the dark alley in the middle of the night sent shivers of fear racing down her spine. But the imagined threat of a crazed rapist waiting in the alley didn’t compare to the real threat of the men that just broke down the door of her apartment.
She hit the pavement of the alley and took off at a sprint. The cardio she did at the gym every week paid off. Her legs were muscled and strong, although the adrenaline alone could have fueled the race through the alley.
With her running shoes on and her chest threatening to pop free of the tiny blood-stained pajama top, she felt like some kind of burlesque track star in a B-rated horror film.
She held her car keys in her hand, the keys extended between her fingers—like she’d been taught in the self-defense classes her grandma had given her as a Christmas gift last year. Some people had grandmothers who gave them crocheted sweaters or towels for their bathroom as gifts. Not Edna.
Zoey reached her car and shuffled the keys in her hand. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart racing due to the running and the fear of being chased.
The keys fumbled from her fingers and dropped to the ground. Swearing, she bent to retrieve them.
“Nice jammies. Pretty sexy.”
She froze at the leering voice coming from behind her. Grabbing her keys, she stood and slowly turned to the man standing behind her.
Okay, more of a boy really. A kid of about eighteen or nineteen stood on the sidewalk. He wore baggy pants and a flat-billed baseball cap. Typical punk attire. His smug expression changed to one of horror as he took in her blood-smeared clothes. “Holy shit, lady. Did you just kill somebody?”
Despite the fear racing through her veins, she narrowed her eyes and tried for her best tough voice. “Not yet.”
He held up his hands in surrender and backed away. “Hey, I don’t want no trouble. You go on, and get in your little car there. I’m just gonna take off.”
She clicked the keyfob to unlock her door and reached behind her to open it. Giving him one more hardened stare, she slid into the seat and slammed her door shut. Starting the car, she engaged the locks, but the kid was already gone.
A distant gunshot sounded, and she jumped in her seat.
Oh no.
She prayed it wasn’t Teddy that had just been shot.
The sound of sirens filled the air. Someone must have called the police.
Please let Teddy be okay.
Pulling away from the curb, she floored the car and headed toward the one place she felt safe.
It took putting ten miles between her and the city for her heartbeat to finally slow down. She shivered in the cool Colorado night air and checked the rearview mirror. Again.
There didn’t seem to be any one following her. So far.
She sped up the highway toward the small town of Pleasant Valley. Toward the safety of her grandmother’s house. Most people wouldn’t think to go to their grandparents’ house for protection. But most people didn’t have a grandmother like Edna.
Even in her early eighties, Edna Allen, now Edna Allen Collins, was a feisty spitfire that was known to carry a gun, pepper spray, and a Taser in her purse. Or sometimes her bra. You never knew with Edna.
The speedometer inched toward ninety and for the umpteenth time, Zoey wished she’d been able to grab her cell phone. She alternately prayed not to get caught and wished she’d get pulled over.
She hoped the sirens she’d heard were headed to her apartment. Surely her neighbors had heard the sounds of those men breaking down her door.
At last, the lights of Pleasant Valley came into view, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she finally turned down her grandmother’s street.
Zoey parked her car a few houses away and cut through the yards to get to Edna’s back door. She knew she’d be scaring her grandmother to death by knocking on her door at three o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday night—well, at three o’clock in the morning on any night, really. But this Tuesday night, it couldn’t be helped.
She knocked on the back screen door and heard John’s dog, Havoc, go into a barking frenzy. Who needed house alarms when there were small yappy dogs around?
It only took a few minutes for the light to pop on and for Edna to appear in the kitchen. “Who’s there? I’ve got a gun, and I know how to use it.”
She was indeed carrying a gun, and Zoey waved at her through the back door window. “Don’t shoot, Gram. It’s me.”
Edna squinted at the window as she rushed forward to unlock the door. “Zoey! What in the devil are you doing here at this time of night?”
She opened the door, and Zoey stepped inside. She wanted nothing more than to fall in to the arms of her grandmother, but she didn’t want to get blood on her.
Both women gasped as they took in the sight of each other.
“Oh honey, is that blood? Are you hurt?” Edna asked.
“What are you wearing?” Zoey asked, before she could even form an answer to her grandmother’s question. Edna had on bright pink slippers and the same Vickie’s Secret pajamas that Zoe wore. Except Edna’s were in leopard print.
Edna looked down at herself and shrugged. “What? There was a sale at the mall. I thought they were cute.”
John walked into the kitchen and gasped at his granddaughter. “Zoey, good God, are you hurt? What happened? Should I call 911?”
Zoey shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I’m shaken up, but I’m fine.” She looked at the dark stains of blood now drying on her pajamas. “It’s not my blood.”
Johnny crossed the room in three long strides, his arms outstretched.
Zoey shrunk back. “I don’t want to get blood on you.”
Waving away her protests, he pulled her into his arms. “I don’t give two hoots about th
is old robe. I care about you.”
She let herself sink into her grandfather’s embrace. He smelled like Old Spice and laundry detergent.
Edna placed her hands on her hips. “I’m glad you’re not hurt, but you’re here in the middle of the night, and you’re covered in somebody’s blood. So we need to either call an ambulance or the police.”
“No police,” Zoey said, heeding Teddy’s words of caution. She pulled away from Johnny. “I don’t know who we can trust with this situation.”
“Well, I know we can trust Mac.” Edna had the number chosen and the phone pressed to her ear before Zoey had time to object.
And she didn’t really want to object. The thought of seeing Mac filled her with warmth, and her heart picked up a beat as she listened to her grandmother address the police officer.
“Mac, this is Edna Collins.” She paused. “Yes, sir, I am in fact aware of what time it is. It’s almost three in the morning and my granddaughter, Zoey, is standing in my kitchen covered in blood.”
She paused again. “No, she’s okay. It’s not her blood. But she doesn’t want to call the police.” She sighed. “I know you are the police, but I’m only calling you.”
Edna pulled the phone from her ear and looked at Zoey. “He said don’t move, he’ll be right over, then he hung up.”
She shuffled to the living room. Pulling a throw off the back of the sofa, she brought it back to wrap around Zoey’s shoulders, then guided her to the kitchen table. “Zoey, sit down here. Johnny, why don’t you start a pot of coffee? Getting a warm cup in your hands will keep them from shaking.”
Zoey sank into the chair and glanced at her hands. They were shaking. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her mouth was dry.
She was going to see Mac again. That thought alone had her heart rate accelerating.
But the realities of the night were also sinking in.
Someone was after her. Had broken into her apartment with the intent to harm her. A friend had been stabbed, and his blood was streaked along her bare arm.
She scratched at the burgundy-colored stain, and it flaked off onto the table as if it were dried paint. But it wasn’t paint. It was blood. Teddy’s blood.
