by Jan Coffey
That didn’t make Conor feel better, either. This was an adventure he’d just as soon skip.
“What else do you know about him? What does he look like?”
“I really don’t know much. Our only guess is that he might be one of the people who attends my online classes on Monday night.” She pushed the hair back away from his face. “This was part of the reason why I didn’t want to mention it to you before. It’s nerve-racking. Upsetting to think about it. But what we have to remember is that he hasn’t done anything to try to hurt us. As long as we’re careful, we’ll be okay.”
After telling Conor what she could about the man’s looks, she made him get into his own bed. She tucked him in, and he let her. But sleep was the furthest thing from Conor’s mind now. He kept thinking about this stranger. He could see the hundreds of names that popped in and out of the online chat room whenever his mom gave her classes. Many times, he’d hover over her shoulder, read the stuff, look at the strange names that were like secret code words. Nobody was who they said they were. There were no faces.
Conor hated the idea of fighting someone who had no face. But he would. He’d do anything to keep his mom safe.
He went back to his silent praying. Now he needed some serious help.
Thirteen
Ben put his feet on the wood floor and stretched his shoulder. It was stiff, as it always was in the morning. A reminder of the end of his racing days. The sky was blue above the treetops outside the window, and he looked around the bedroom. There were no lacy curtains, no fancy quilts, no dozen or so pillows spread all over. Thankfully, no stuffed animals. Like everything else about Emily, her bedroom was neat and practical—good lights, two built-in bookcases, and an array of framed photographs on the shelves and the top of her bureau.
Still, he would have known this was her room if he were blind. He’d lain in bed last night breathing in the hint of her sweet scent.
A breeze was coming through one of the windows. It was cool on his bare chest. Ben had left the window partially open last night. He glanced at the clock on the night table beside the bed. The red LED showed 6:15. He’d spent most of the night dozing, only to wake up with every creak of the house or faint rattle of a window. He’d forgotten all the noises that came with living in an old house. He wondered if Emily had slept any better.
He couldn’t have left her alone last night. She tried to talk tough and look brave, but Ben knew she was shaken. She was vulnerable in this situation. Alone. From the little he’d learned during the day yesterday about her family, he understood that Emily saw her parents maybe once or twice a year. They lived in Arizona and had their own lives. There were no aunts or uncles or cousins that she and her sister, Liz, were close to.
So unlike his own family, Ben thought. The Colter clan was big and loud, and everybody was into each other’s business. Not staying in touch wasn’t an option, even when you were thirty-nine years old. And he didn’t mind that at all.
Today was Sunday and he was in Connecticut and his parents knew it, which meant a place would be set for him for dinner at their house in Westport.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers, he listened for sounds of activity. The house was quiet. Standing up, he pulled on his pants, padded barefoot across the wood floor and closed the window.
He had a much better view of her backyard now. It went back probably a hundred yards before the woods took over. There were no neighbors that he could see from this vantage point, though he knew her house was flanked by two other houses. Still, there was plenty of room between the neighbors here. Everyone was out of earshot of each other.
There was a tiny half bath off her bedroom. Emily had given him a toothbrush last night. Ben washed his face and looked casually at the cosmetics in her medicine cabinet as he brushed his teeth. Pretty basic stuff, he thought, though he was hardly an expert. Closing the cabinet door, he grabbed the towel she’d left him and headed for the shower down the hall from the bedroom.
The door to Emily’s office was across from the bathroom. Ben heard the hum of the printer and the tap of fingers on the keyboard. He poked his head in.
Emily’s back was to the door. Her fingers were flying, occasionally clicking the mouse. His eyes took her in. She looked beautiful in the thick, ivory-colored flannel pajamas. Her feet were bare, and she’d tucked one under her. Her hair was a tangle of dark curls. From where he stood, she appeared comfortable, for the moment completely at ease, perfectly happy with who she was. She must have seen his reflection in the computer screen, and the chair whirled around.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
Ben noticed her gaze immediately fell on his bare chest, and a blush rose into her face.
It was good to know she wasn’t totally immune to him. “You’re working already?”
“Not really. I was just curious and thought I’d dig up some info.”
He saw the Web site she had open on her screen and smiled. “Checking into the job you’re doing for us?”
“Technology changes overnight in this business, even the basic stuff. I was trying to catch up with what’s new. Trying to get a feel for the systems out there, the software companies who are doing the big jobs. I didn’t want your people leaving me in the dust when they start talking about it tomorrow.”
“I think it’s going to be the other way around. We’re more or less greenhorns when it comes to computer and software developments.” Ben draped the towel around his neck, walked in and sat on another chair by a second computer. The room was small. Cozy. “Gina knows the law inside and out. That’s her interest. Adam is a mechanical engineer, and he can get real technical in specific areas when he wants to, but he doesn’t have the time to stay on top of computer tech and software advances.”
“How about you?”
“Me? I just know a little bit about a lot of things. Just enough to keep myself afloat.”
“But you have a background in law enforcement.”
She was interested enough to check into his background. Another good sign, Ben thought.
“I joined the police force right out of college. Worked my way up through the ranks. Learned some valuable stuff about how to run an investigation and too much about the limitations of law enforcement.”
“Why did you get out? Too ambitious to stay?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just wasn’t enough. I’m a workaholic. I like to see results, and results come slow in the legal system, if at all. I don’t handle bureaucracy too well. One day, I just knew I had to go out on my own.”
“How did you get into insurance investigations?”
“I hate that question.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The answer always sounds worse than it is, but I got into it because of family connections.”
“Now I’m really curious.” Emily tucked both feet under her. She fit perfectly into the office chair.
Ben wondered how it’d feel to pull her onto his lap and run his hand all over those soft pajamas. The curves and skin underneath would probably be smooth and warm to his touch. He shifted in the chair and tried not to stare at the creamy skin above the top button of the pajamas.
“Family connections?” she asked, clueless as to the direction of his thoughts.
“My father was an attorney. Still is, actually, but he’s slowing down. He did a lot of work for some of the bigger insurance companies here in Connecticut. He had a lot of connections and needed help with some of the legwork. So that’s how I got my foot in the door. One thing led to another, and pretty soon I was licensed and in business. One job brought in a handful more, my name got around, and things skyrocketed from there.”
“Wow, an American success story,” she said with a smile.
“We’re not Pinkerton…yet.”
“When did your two partners join you?”
“That first year. Our earliest jobs dealt mostly with peculiar automobile accidents and suspicious claims. Cars were something that Adam and I both knew and understo
od. It was pretty natural to lean that way,” Ben explained. “Now, seven years later, that portion of the business is still going strong, but we’re finding more and more that we’re struggling to keep up with the new technologies.”
Ben motioned with his head toward her computer screen in the background. “But that’s not all of it, either. We have customers who want us to get into investigating cybercrimes, infrastructure protections, digital controls of pipelines, power grids—areas that are becoming increasingly vulnerable. I could go on and on about the opportunities that are being thrown our way, opportunities that we have to turn down because of lack of expertise.”
She moved around on the seat, letting one leg dangle down again, and crossed her arms over her chest. He could see the wheels turning.
“Shouldn’t you wait and tell me this stuff after I’ve agreed on a contract? I might push up my price, you know.”
He grinned at her. “I wish you would push up your price…or even just name it.”
“What a negotiator you are,” she said with a laugh.
“There’s plenty of money to go around. You’d earn it, though.” Ben reached out with his foot and touched her bare toes. She immediately pulled her foot back under her. “I want you, Emily. We want you. So just get that straight in your head.”
With a smile still on her face, she let her head drop back against the chair and closed her eyes.
She had a beautiful neck, and her mouth fascinated him. Ben’s gaze took in every bit of her, from her head to her toes. He wanted to touch her skin, feel the softness. Her prim, oversized pajamas were sexy as hell. Ben knew she was totally oblivious of her own charm. She didn’t know of the effect she had on men. On him. He’d seen it in Simpson’s eyes last night, too. The police detective wasn’t totally unaffected by her, either. Ben forced himself to look at the rest of the room—at the bookcases, her selection of reading material. She had a lot of fiction mixed in with the technical stuff.
He knew he had to get his own head straight. When it came to women, Ben had never mixed work and pleasure before. He’d never dated someone he worked with. He liked to keep the two facets of his life totally separate. Everything worked much smoother that way.
His gaze moved uncontrollably to Emily again. He couldn’t deny that she was a great temptation.
“Don’t fall sleep on me now,” he growled.
“I’m not. But I’m not used to this…being wooed for a job. Really wanted.” She sat up straighter and crossed her arms again, studying him in return. “Don’t get me wrong, corporate America appreciated me. But like you, I couldn’t stand the red tape and the little fiefdoms that exist in big companies. Over the past few years, I’ve become pretty used to being my own boss, doing fifty different jobs if I have to, and not letting myself get tied into one specific task. I like the independence.”
“Things change when you find the right person. You might not even think of it as a sacrifice.”
“You mean things change when you find the right job,” she corrected.
“It’s all about people, as far as I’m concerned. The people you work with and the ones you deal with.”
“But I can do without people,” she said, her dark eyes huge and fixed right on his face. “I guess this is as good a time as any to be honest.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not really a people person. I’m not the best communicator. I don’t like to debate my position. I also get nervous, uncomfortable in front of a crowd. That’s why I do much better with a computer screen. I’d just as soon work alone.”
“You did great when I saw you at that computer expo in Philadelphia. You had no problem at all talking before five hundred people.”
“I hated that, whether it was visible or not,” she said with a small shrug. “I’ve trained myself not to see the audience when I’m in front of big groups. If you recall, I don’t answer questions until the very end. I can’t allow people to break my train of thought or upset the little confidence I have.”
“You don’t hate talking to me now, do you?”
She paused before she answered. “No, I don’t.”
Ben looked at her. She was so open in some ways. “When you work with me, there will be no reason for you to talk to five hundred people. I think you’re perfect for a group that is as small as ours.”
“You’re recruiting again,” Emily said with a smile.
“I didn’t know I ever stopped.”
She pushed to her feet. “I’m going to be a good host and go and make you some breakfast while you take a shower.”
Ben kept his seat, but his gaze traveled down her body. She was standing so close to him. “How about if I take you and Conor out for breakfast instead?”
She shook her head. “You’ve fed us enough this weekend. Plus, this is the only meal that I’m good at. I’m famous for my killer blueberry pancakes.”
“In that case…” He stood up and saw her gaze again focus on his bare chest. “Will you and Conor have dinner with me? My treat. Actually, it’ll be my parents’ treat. They only live an hour away. We’ll have dinner at their house.”
“I don’t know.” She looked flustered. “I’m not sure that would be appropriate. I mean, your time with your family and—”
“All part of the recruiting effort. Think of it as professional. You’ll be checking me out. Adam is flying in from Miami today. I’ll have him join us, as well. You’ll get a chance to talk to him before tomorrow. And don’t worry about my parents. They’re pretty normal people. They’re even pleasant…and they’ll be especially happy to meet Conor. My mother has this thing for teenage boys. She had four sons, and I think if my father hadn’t gotten himself fixed, she would have had ten more.”
She shook her head, but a smile had bloomed on her lips. “If your parents are anything like you, I won’t have a chance at turning you down.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Ben put an arm around her shoulder, leading her out of the room. The pajamas were as soft as he thought they would be. “After breakfast, I have to go back to the inn for a change of clothes. I also want to check on some faxes I was supposed to get overnight. But after that, I’d love to come back and tag along with you two when you look for a dog.”
The hallway was darker. The door to Conor’s room was partially open. They could see the teenager was still sleep.
“Don’t you have anything better to do on a Sunday than spend time with us?” she asked in an uncertain tone.
“No. I can’t think of a thing,” he whispered, backing into the bathroom.
Em was living in one of Liz’s fantasies this morning. A gorgeous, naked male specimen was in her shower at this very moment. He had slept in her bed last night. She’d sat across from him in her cozy ten-by-fourteen office and stared at his bare muscular chest and tried to sound half-intelligent. To top it all off, he’d told her he wanted to come back and spend more time with her today.
Emily couldn’t dream it any better than this.
Rushing around the kitchen, she took out frying pans and eggs and milk and frozen blueberries and flour. As the coffee brewed, she set the table. Something was bubbling inside her. She felt like a teenager, though she couldn’t exactly remember feeling like this when she’d been young. Heck, she couldn’t remember feeling this excited when she and David had been together.
The kitchen phone rang and she reached for it without thinking. As her hand touched the receiver, though, she paused. The happy recklessness of a couple of seconds ago was instantly replaced by caution. The sound of her name, whispered by the faceless stalker two nights ago, was still fresh in her mind. She waited through four rings until her answering machine’s greeting kicked in. She was prepared to pick up the phone if someone she knew was on the other end.
Her greeting didn’t reach the end of the recording. There were a couple of beeps, and the voice-mail recorder never came on. Emily stared at the phone. It took only a second to realize that whoever was on the other end
had turned on the speaker phone through the answering machine. He was listening. He was on the line right now. He had worked his way inside of this room with her.
“Who is this?” she asked, tearing the phone off its cradle.
Anger bubbled to the surface when there was no answer. But he was there.
“Who are you?” she said fiercely.
Nothing. She could hear his breathing through the line.
“A slimy coward,” she spat into the line. “That’s what you are. You’re a pathetic, spineless asshole. You’re a miserable son of a bitch. A Peeping Tom. A—”
He hung up. She quickly punched in the numbers to retrace the call. The number was unlisted and out of the area code. The phone hit the counter with a loud bang.
“He called again.”
She whirled around. Ben was in the doorway, showered and dressed. “I wanted to have breakfast ready before you came down. I promised you…”
“Em.” He walked toward her.
Emily didn’t even know she was crying. She was tense, every fiber of her body still humming with anger and frustration. Ben’s arms gathered her against his chest. His chin brushed the top of her head.
“Did he say anything?”
“Nothing, not even a whisper this time. But he got past the minimal security on the answering machine. He was actually monitoring the room when I picked up the phone.”
“Did you trace the call?”
“Nothing. Out of the area.”
“Or he could have been calling from a cell phone.”
Emily felt her blood run cold. Ben walked away from her and picked up the phone, calling the police department. She turned her attention to the half-made breakfast and listened to him asking the Wickfield police to put a trace on the last call to her house.
It was much easier to be in denial. If she could only convince herself that none of these things were related. But it was too late. She was a mess. She burned her finger pouring the pancake batter onto the hot griddle.
Ben was beside her again. He still had the phone to one ear, but he took her hand and held it under cold running water. Her heart jumped when he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss on the blister forming from the burn.
