Mirror, Mirror

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  She’d heard danger added an erotic edge to a person’s senses. She wondered if that was the spice between them.

  She was certain Mac could turn out to be more dangerous than whoever was out to get her. More dangerous because she knew he could steal her heart.

  Chapter 9

  “After today, it’s kinda nice to have a quiet night,” Mac said out loud. He shifted his position in an effort to stretch his legs. His abdomen still ached from Dana’s lucky punches. His way of making it better was to snack on Lydia’s homemade taco chips and salsa.

  Dana, he thought, tasted hotter than the hottest salsa Lydia had ever concocted.

  Experience told him the statue left in her bathroom was a deliberate taunt. He hadn’t thought there would be any fingerprints, and there weren’t.

  Talk about lousy timing. He’d gotten her to relax. To stop looking haunted. Then this happened. He muttered a curse.

  Duffy whined and bumped his nose against Mac’s back.

  “You don’t have to go out, you faker. You just want to go down the road and see if that poodle is out in her backyard,” Mac told him. “Face it. She’s not for you, tough guy. She’s class with a shapely bod and saucy little tail.” Which had him thinking again about Dana. Not that thoughts of her had ever left his mind after that kiss they’d shared earlier in the day. “I’m surprised you didn’t look for someone spicier. Like a glamorous golden Lab or maybe a demure collie.” He put his hand back and scratched the top of Duffy’s head. The dog happily slobbered on his shoulder. “We really need to do something about that drool problem of yours.”

  Mac thought about getting out and taking Duffy for a short walk. Maybe they would run into that cute little poodle. Since the St. Bernard had seen her during a walk a week ago, he’d been pulling Mac toward the snooty pooch’s house in an attempt to glimpse at her. He didn’t have the heart to remind the dog a love life was out of the question.

  He straightened up when his cell phone rang.

  “You didn’t slip the poodle your number, did you?” he asked, picking up. “McKenna.”

  “A typical masculine greeting. I think I should respond with something you’d easily understand. What are you wearing?”

  He knew the voice. He just didn’t know it in this sultry mode.

  “Nothing too daring. Just a pair of sheer boxers in a sassy shade of red,” he replied. “How about you?”

  “Nothing much, just a sexy little number I picked up the other day. The color is called ‘candlelight’ because a candle can shine right through it,” she said in a husky voice that brought to his mind a large bed covered with silk sheets. “While it falls to my feet, there’s only these tiny straps and a barely-there bodice. I’m sure you would like it. Maybe even like it so much you’d want to tear it right off me.”

  He was positive his jeans shrunk a good four sizes.

  “Wouldn’t want to ruin good material,” he croaked. He ignored the dog’s paw batting at the back of his head.

  “I’m sorry you aren’t here to see it,” she purred. “I’m sure you’d like it.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced over at the house. He couldn’t see any lights burning. He didn’t expect to see any, since it was almost two a.m. The master bedroom was in the rear, so there wasn’t any chance he could see it from where he was parked. And you didn’t need a light to talk on the phone.

  “Then the least I could do is take it off. But I’d much rather you did it.”

  Now he was running out of air.

  Mac fixed his gaze on Dana’s house as if he could see through the walls to the woman within. As if he could see her lying in bed with her phone to her ear as in a low voice she described her nightgown in explicit detail. Then erotically described how she would take it off. Sweat glistened on his brow as he visualized what she was saying. By the time she finished, he was positive he was ready to die. But he’d die a happy man.

  “Sweet dreams, Mac,” she murmured.

  It took him several minutes to realize she’d hung up. Another few minutes passed before he could breathe normally again. He even feared he was going cross-eyed. That potent mouth conjured up some pretty hot words.

  He dropped his cell phone on the passenger seat. He warily eyed the instrument as if it had suddenly come to life on its own.

  Phone sex wasn’t something Mac had ever tried. After tonight, he realized just how dangerous it could be.

  He was suddenly certain that the woman he’d spoken to on the phone wasn’t Dana. It had taken him a couple of minutes to hear the differences; it had sure as hell sounded like her.

  Questions chased through his mind. Who was it? How had she known about him? Why was she now calling him? And how had she gotten his number?

  He knew it would take some time to try to figure some of this out, but one thing was clear. Someone had decided the rules of the game needed to be changed.

  Now she wasn’t toying only with Dana; she had extended her dark little games to Mac.

  “You’re going to lose,” he murmured, continuing to look at Dana’s house as if his gaze alone could protect her. “You’re going to lose big-time.”

  “How can my staying out of the office for one day generate so much work?” Dana muttered, pushing a pile of paperwork away from her.

  For the first time, she had no desire to do any work. She glanced out the window and wished she was outside in the sunshine instead.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to straighten up those files?” Marti asked. She placed several inter-office folders in Dana’s In Box.

  Dana shook her head. “Right now there’s nothing earth shattering for me to work on and this keeps me out of mischief,” she joked.

  “As if you’ve ever had to be kept out of mischief,” Marti retorted. “All right, I offered and I’m smart enough not to offer again. Just remember that K comes after J,” she reminded her as she left the office.

  “I always wondered about that.” Dana laughed. She returned to the papers. She knew she would have to check every sheet of paper to make sure they were in the correct folder along with putting the folders in alphabetical order.

  Her thoughts were troubled as she wondered how her enemy had gotten into the offices. She’d already checked with the security desk, but she couldn’t find out any answers from them. She thought of the times she’d come in after hours when no one manned the desk. It would have been just as easy for someone to come in and get upstairs. Considering how easily her house had been broken into, she feared her office security system had also been bypassed.

  As she worked she found herself unable to stop yawning.

  “You couldn’t tell I had a good night’s sleep last night.” She muttered to herself as she stifled another yawn.

  After the night before, she knew she needed it. But when she’d fallen asleep, a stray thought had crept into her mind. A tiny voice asked what it would be like if Mac was in the bed with her.

  “I’m certain I wouldn’t have been sleeping,” she told herself.

  “I want to talk to your mother.”

  Dana’s head snapped upward. For a moment she wondered if she hadn’t conjured up his presence merely by thinking about him.

  “Good morning to you too,” she said in the same abrupt tone he used. “Don’t tell me, you charmed my receptionist into letting you sneak back here.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t need to charm anyone. You introduced me to your staff, remember? After that first time, they seem to think we’re involved.”

  “Because you did everything but stand on your head to make them think that way,” she pointed out.

  “That was one thing I could never do. Guess my head isn’t flat enough,” he mused. “Actually, all I had to say is that I wanted to surprise you. Your receptionist told me to come on back.” He walked in and sat down in the chair across from her. He glanced at her paper-covered desk. “What’d they do? Save it all up for you?”

  “It looks like it, doesn’t it? Now you know why I say I
don’t dare take a day off.”

  She hoped he wouldn’t guess she’d been thinking about him. She’d taken on this task in hopes she could keep her mind off Mac for a while.

  Little did she know her efforts would be in vain because he would show up.

  “You are not talking to my mother. I already told you she’s not well. She still has a lot of problems with her speech.”

  Mac leaned back in the chair, propping his ankle on his opposite knee.

  “I promise not to do anything to upset her. But we need to start thinking that she might know something you don’t. Same with your mother’s housekeeper. I told you in the beginning this case had to be handled my way. You should be grateful I’m telling you in advance instead of my just going out there.”

  “I’ve made sure all of this has been kept from her,” she argued.

  “Your housekeeper knows and for all you know, your mother just might know something,” he told her. “Moms have a habit of knowing everything even if you don’t think they do. I know mine always did.”

  “This is not about some stupid little secret,” she said relentlessly. “I can’t allow it. My mother’s fragile health couldn’t take any of this.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I don’t see why you would need to talk to her anyway.”

  Mac refused to back down. “For all you know, you could have been having that nightmare since you were six, and you’ve just blocked it.”

  Dana could feel the nausea traveling up her throat. Only by sheer will was she able to avoid disgracing herself. “That’s not possible,” she protested, her voice scratchy with fear.

  He looked at her directly. “Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure, but surely something would have been said to me about it when I grew older.”

  “Not if your family didn’t see any need to tell you. If they were afraid it would upset you.” His expression was grim. “Take your choice, Dana. Either you go with me to make sure I don’t put the thumbscrews to your mother and the housekeeper, or I do it my own way.”

  She stood up. “I should have punched you a lot harder yesterday.”

  Where was the man she’d called a marshmallow just the other night? Why was he pushing this so hard?

  She stacked the files in a neat pile. Without saying a word to him, she reached inside her bottom desk drawer and pulled out her bag. She glared at him as she stalked past him.

  “Marti, Mac and I are going out to see my mother,” she informed her assistant. “I’ll be back before you leave for the day.”

  The older woman turned to Mac and smiled. “Don’t rush back. The only problem we’ve had is finding a bunch of files out of order, and I can have one of the clerks finish those.”

  Mac shot Dana a telling look. “Files out of order is never any fun.”

  Dana ignored him and walked down the hallway. Her back was ramrod straight, her head held high as she headed for the elevator. With his hands stuck in his jeans pockets, Mac sauntered lazily behind her.

  The elevator door slid open, revealing an empty car. Dana stepped inside and stabbed the button marked Garage. Mac leaned against the wall, his hands still stuffed in his pockets.

  She refused to look at him, but her senses couldn’t ignore him. Her skin felt jumpy, she felt out of sorts and she was seriously thinking about some primal scream therapy.

  Mac broke the silence first. “Must have been frustrating to come in and find a bunch of files out of order.”

  She didn’t reply. She continued staring at the row of numbers overhead as the car descended.

  “Odd that happened, since you seem to be almost anal on having everything in its proper place.”

  Silence reigned.

  When the light indicating they’d reached the garage lit up and the doors started to slide open, Dana started to take a step. Mac’s hand appeared, slamming the Close Door button. Her head snapped upward.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Were you going to call me and tell me about the files?”

  “We’ve had temps in here for the past few weeks. One of them could have done it,” she replied, knowing she sounded as if she couldn’t believe her own words.

  He shook his head. “You can’t tell me you seriously think that.”

  “Of course I think that,” she said. “It’s the most logical reason. There is no proof that someone deliberately mixed up the files.” Dana threw up her hands. “Fine, believe whatever you want.”

  “Which is why I’m the expert.”

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She pulled her keys out of her briefcase. “I’ll drive.” She left no room for argument as she walked briskly toward her car.

  Dana didn’t speak during the drive to her mother’s house. She was too caught up in fearing the worst for her mother. Would Moms be awake? Aware of her surroundings? Dana trusted Mac not to put undue stress on her mother, but did he honestly understand just how fragile the older woman was at this time?

  She already had a pretty good idea how Harriet would treat Mac. She’d succumb to his bad-boy charm and ply him with hot coffee and muffins.

  Dana parked the car near the front of the house. She climbed the steps to the front door without bothering to see if Mac was following her.

  “Dana, what a surprise!” Harriet exclaimed, hugging Dana. She glanced beyond her. “I see.” She chanced a quick glance at Dana’s tense features. She turned to Mac. “You must be the private investigator.”

  “John McKenna.” He held out his hand. “I go by Mac.”

  “Hello, Mac.” She put her hand in his. “I’m Harriet.”

  Mac knew in those few seconds that Harriet had taken stock of him and approved of what she saw. And he knew that if she didn’t approve, he probably would have been booted out before he could get past the front door.

  “Has something else happened?” Harriet asked, looking from one to the other.

  “No, but if you’ve got the time, I’d like to talk to you about a few things.” He flashed her a winning smile.

  The woman looked to Dana for confirmation. Dana nodded.

  “While the two of you are talking, I’m going to go upstairs and see my mother,” Dana murmured, heading for the stairs.

  “I’ve got a coffee cake just out of the oven and coffee just brewed. Come on back to the kitchen. We can talk there,” Harriet commanded as she started off for the rear of the house. She didn’t look back.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,” Mac said meekly.

  “I wish you would talk to me, Moms.” Dana’s voice trembled with unshed tears. “I feel as if you’re hiding from me and I don’t know why you would do it.” She gently squeezed her mother’s hand. The skin felt cool, dry and papery under her touch.

  She reached for the tube of hand cream always kept on the nightstand. She squeezed a healthy dollop onto her palm, then rubbed the rich cream between her palms and tenderly smoothed it over her mother’s hand and partway up her arm. She repeated the action with the second hand. The delicate scent of gardenia rose up to tickle her nostrils.

  “Remember Kenneth Adams, Moms?” she asked, going on as if her mother had replied. She always prayed her mother would hear her words even when she slept. “I ran into him last week at Belson’s Market. I’d gone in there for some of that pepper cheese Daddy used to love so much. Kenneth asked how you were doing. He said he and Loretta are planning on seeing you at their Labor Day barbecue. He said Loretta is spending a couple weeks at a spa in Arizona. Translate that to, she’s off somewhere having some plastic surgery. Remember how much she always hated those dark bags under her eyes? I bet the next time we see her those bags will be gone.” She continued stroking her mother’s hand between hers, even though the limb remained unresponsive under her loving touch. She continued her bright chatter as her mother lay there with her eyes closed.

  By sheer force of will, Dana didn’t break down in tears. She knew her mother wasn’t in a coma. The doctor had assured her of that. That didn’t ex
plain why she was always asleep when Dana was there.

  “Was my mother awake this morning?” she asked the nurse, who’d kept a discreet distance during Dana’s visit. Dana personally thought the woman didn’t appear very friendly, but she knew if any of the nurses proved to be a problem, Harriet would straighten it out immediately.

  “Mrs. Madison and I had a lovely conversation while she had her breakfast,” the nurse replied in a low voice. “You have to understand, she still tires easily. But she is doing much better.”

  Dana nodded. Perhaps she was asking for too much too soon. She noted a faint hint of blush had been applied to Alice’s cheeks and her hair had been brushed. But she also saw the faint spidering of blue veins against her thin eyelids, and her lips appeared slightly dry even after Dana had applied lip balm only moments before.

  She knew no matter how much Mac argued, she couldn’t allow him to see her mother. Alice Madison had enough to do just in getting well.

  “Do you think Dana’s mentally unbalanced?” Harriet poured Mac a second cup of coffee and sliced another piece of coffee cake for him.

  He consumed the first in three bites. “Nope.” He savored the spices in the still-warm cake. Without a doubt, it was the best coffee cake he’d ever eaten. He feared if he didn’t give the housekeeper the answer she wanted to hear, she’d whisk the food away from him. For a man who was known for his interrogating skills, he was quickly learning Harriet could give the FBI lessons. All she had to do was feed a man and he’d tell her everything she wanted to know—and then some.

  “Then why did you ask me if she ever had emotional problems as a child?” The older woman poured herself a cup of coffee and took the stool next to him.

  “I like to cover all my bases,” he defended himself. “So far, I haven’t been able to find one logical reason for anything that’s happened.”

  “Dana is a woman in the vulnerable position of recently taking over a successful company. Jeremy Madison was an excellent businessman, but he also made his share of enemies because of how successful he was. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them didn’t transfer those feelings to Dana,” Harriet said. “I’d like to know why you haven’t found out anything yet. This case doesn’t seem all that difficult. Dana said you’re very good at what you do.” Her expression told him she thought otherwise.