by Sheryl Lynn
“Good night, Mr. Tucker. Sleep well.” She turned out the bedside lamp.
Though robbed of the view, her image was burned on his retinas. Heat flooded his groin and even the baggy boxers were suddenly, uncomfortably, much too tight.
If Pinky were to kill him right now, it could only be considered an act of mercy.
VOICES AWAKENED DANIEL. Snapped to alertness, he slid a hand beneath the pillow and folded his fingers around the grip of the 9 mm. Eyes wide, he stared toward the source and realized the door was open. Pale light from the hallway formed a shining corona around Janine’s hair.
“...let me put some clothes on.” She spoke in a whisper.
A man replied, but his voice was too soft for Daniel to discern exactly what he said. Adrenaline charged his senses. Pistol in hand he sat up on the sofa. He’d spent much of the night tossing and turning in a vain attempt to relax despite the torment of thwarted sexual desire. Still, he cursed himself for not hearing the knock on the door that had roused Janine.
“He’s sleeping,” she said, then chuckled. “On the couch, Colonel. Don’t get all ferocious because of him. We have a strictly business relationship.”
Daniel relaxed and lowered the pistol. He groped on the floor next to him, found the fluffy robe and worked it over his arms.
The words didn’t come through, but their affection for each other did. Daniel initiated all calls and visits to his father, but only rarely, since his father had no true interest in his children. Eavesdropping on such a loving bond gave Daniel an ache like an empty tooth socket.
“I’m awake,” he called. He turned on a nearby lamp.
Janine stepped aside and her father entered the room. The colonel was dressed in crisply pressed wool trousers and a ribbed British army sweater.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” She clutched the lapels of her satin robe closed over her throat.
“Don’t worry about me.” Daniel swung his legs off the sofa, but made sure the robe covered him adequately before he stood up. Despite the early hour the colonel looked as crisp and fresh as his clothing, with every hair in place, his face clean shaven and his eyes alert. Daniel jerked a knot into the robe’s tie. “Good morning, sir. Is there a problem?”
For a few seconds the old man stared at the sofa. “I do not approve of this arrangement.”
Daniel bit back a smart-aleck reply about how he himself didn’t approve of sleeping on the couch when he’d rather be sleeping with Janine. When he was certain nothing stupid would emerge, he said, “I understand your concern, sir, but this is a necessary tactic.”
“The troops are gossiping. It’s affecting morale.”
Janine tossed Daniel a warning look, and he clamped his mouth shut. She placed a hand on her father’s arm. “It’s not affecting job performance.”
The colonel stared at a spot above and beyond his daughter’s head. “Your mother is concerned. She didn’t sleep well last night.”
Daniel lowered his face to hide a grin. The old man wouldn’t, or perhaps couldn’t, come out and say he was afraid for Janine. He didn’t seem like the affectionate type, and perhaps didn’t know how to say he loved his children. His love for her shone through, anyway. This family had peculiar dynamics. They appeared to respect each other’s privacy, but they were close. He couldn’t help comparing it to his own family, where narcissism was the rule rather than the exception.
“I’ll talk to Mom.”
“Mr. Tucker is the reason I’m here.”
“Oh?” He wondered if he was about to get canned. He hoped not. If he left now Pinky’s self-confidence would soar, and God only knew what kind of nastiness he’d pull to get rid of the colonel.
“Do you own a new Chevy Tahoe? Silver in color?”
New was an understatement. The Tahoe still carried temporary tags. A sick sensation settled in his belly. “Yes, sir. What about it?”
“Mike discovered some vandalism in the parking lot.”
“What kind of vandalism?”
“The full extent of the damage is difficult to note in the darkness. Mike claims the tires are slashed. There might be some damage to the paint as well.”
Muttering cusswords under his breath, Daniel grabbed clothing. He rushed into the bathroom to dress. When he came out the colonel had left. Janine’s face skewed in apology. Seeing her twisting her hair in agitation, his anger faded. If this was Pinky’s doing, then Pinky deserved his wrath.
He playfully ruffled her tousled hair. “It’s just a truck. Don’t sweat it. Get dressed. I’ll wait for you.”
Mike Downes waited for them in the lobby. Having received special permission from the sheriff to make an authority presence while working off duty, he wore a uniform. He handed a nine-volt flashlight to Daniel and asked for the tag number of his Tahoe. When Daniel told him, the deputy nodded in confirmation. Before the man turned away, Daniel caught a grim smile. The deputy probably thought Daniel got exactly what he deserved.
Outside, the air seemed to freeze in Daniel’s throat. Great plumes of steamy breath marked each exhalation. Cold crept beneath his heavy coat and prickled his jeans-clad legs. Tall lamps illuminated the parking lot, but pitched the shadows into utter blackness. Daniel followed a flashlight beam around the Tahoe. All four tires were as flat as deflated balloons. He crouched by a rear wheel. The rubber gaped, showing shredded steel belting, as if it had been attacked by an ax. Small chunks of tire rubber littered the ground.
“I’m so sorry.” Janine ran her fingertips over scratches on the paint.
Somebody—Pinky—had used a piece of sharp metal to mar the silver paint. Long scratches ran the length of the body. The windshield and windows were smashed and spiderwebbed with cracks. Even the side mirrors had been destroyed.
“Hey,” Mike called. He aimed a flashlight on the Tahoe’s hood. “Look at this.”
Gouged into the paint so deeply that bits of metal curled from the wounds were the words: “I will kill you.”
“When did you find this?” Daniel asked as irony pinged him. He’d wanted a challenge. He couldn’t think of anything more challenging than a sneaky, vicious, truck-trashing nut. Anger crawled through his guts. He stared at the crudely etched message; he could practically smell the rage behind the death threat. Pinky needed only to take a baby step to wreak this kind of damage against a human being.
He suddenly wanted Janine away from here. He knew she’d never leave.
“The colonel ran the plate number. When it didn’t belong to a registered guest, I figured it might be yours.” Mike whistled appreciatively.
“You’re quite the junior detective,” Daniel muttered, earning a scowl from the deputy. “So how did Pinky figure out this was my truck? Print out a list of registered guests and prowl through the lot until he found a car not on the list?” He turned a slow circle, shining the flashlight on other vehicles. A cursory inspection didn’t reveal any untoward damage to nearby tires, windshields or paint jobs.
Janine hugged herself and shivered. “He must have seen you. You got something from the truck yesterday.”
“Oh, yeah, my sunglasses.” A spot began to itch between his shoulder blades. The itch climbed his neck and tightened his scalp. He imagined Pinky hiding nearby, enjoying the reaction to his handiwork. If the little creep wanted a show, he was about to get one. He spun on Janine. “This is a brand-new truck!”
She jumped as if he’d poked her with a stick.
He flung his hands in the air and stomped in a furious circle. He slammed a hand against the hood. The clang echoed in the still air. “It’s got less than a thousand miles on it!”
“Cut it out,” Mike said. “This isn’t Janine’s fault.”
“Who’s fault is it, then?” He kept stomping and pounding the truck. “I’ve got a five-hundred-dollar insurance deductible! Who’s gonna pay for that?” He poked at her chest with a rigid finger. “You said it would be just fine parked out here. What kind of a two-bit operation are you running, anyway?”
“If I wanted my truck trashed, I could have left it in the city.”
“One more word and I’m cuffing you.” Even in the deceptive light offered by the parking lot lights there was no mistaking the genuinely ferocious anger on the deputy’s face.
Janine chuffed harshly. Frozen breath swirled before her face. Without a word she turned and stalked away.
Daniel could have groaned. He’d expected her to realize what he was doing and play along. He whispered, “Get a clue, Sergeant.”
Mike growled an obscenity and shook Daniel’s arm.
Daniel offered no resistance, but went with the flow and let the deputy’s shaking tug him in close. Again he whispered. “Pinky’s watching. Say something official.”
The deputy stopped shaking him. “Huh?”
“Pinky is watching.” He spoke slowly, making certain to enunciate every syllable.
Mike dropped his hold.
“I’m going to hit you,” Daniel whispered. “Lock me down against the truck. Just do it.” He waited until he sensed the deputy understood. “You stupid hick cop! Aren’t you even smart enough to guard a parking lot?” He shoved Mike’s shoulder.
Daniel had time for a lone thought—don’t need to play so rough—before Mike had him by the coat, spun about and slammed against the Tahoe’s hood. A burly forearm pressed down hard on the back of his neck. His cheek burned against the frozen metal. If it looked as real as it felt, then Pinky should be impressed.
“Do you see someone?” Mike asked against Daniel’s ear.
“No, but I bet he’s watching.” The gear on the deputy’s Sam Browne belt dug painfully into Daniel’s backside. The deputy played his role with obvious relish. “Give me a warning, then head for your car. See if anyone follows me.”
“Got it.” In a louder voice, Mike said, “I ought to haul you in for assaulting an officer. Seeing how you’re Janine’s friend, I’ll let you off with a warning.”
“Yeah, yeah, get off me.” The pressure eased on his neck and Daniel staggered upright.
Mike had his nightstick out He used it to gesture threateningly at Daniel’s belly. “You remember who you’re talking to, boy. When you cool off, call me. I’ll take the report about your truck.”
“Whatever you say. Sir.” He stomped across the parking lot, his boots crunching gravel. The sensation of being watched grew stronger. Pinky could be hiding anywhere— maybe holding the ax, knife or metal shard he’d used on the truck. He slipped a hand inside his coat and fingered the Luger.
The heat of the lobby struck him as soon as he stepped inside. So did the quiet. He could hear people inside the restaurant preparing the dining room for another day, but the lobby and lounge were empty, and the registration desk was deserted. He resisted looking behind him. He prayed Mike spotted Pinky lurking in the parking lot.
Daniel found Janine in her office. The door stood wide open, and she sat behind her desk. As soon as he walked in, she stood and thrust a slip of paper at him.
Something other than anger burned in her violet eyes—hurt. He shut the door. He noted she handed him a personal check, with her name printed on it, made out to him in the amount of five hundred dollars. “What’s this?”
“Your deductible.”
No amount of warning helped. He laughed. She dropped onto her chair as if her legs were cut from beneath her. He made himself cough to kill the laughter, and swung his head from side to side.
“Do you think this is funny? Humiliating me in front of Mike like that?” She pointed at the door. “Go laugh somewhere else.”
“I should have warned you,” he said. “I like to improvise.”
“Pardon?”
“I don’t give a rat’s behind about the truck.” Not exactly true. He’d been salivating over owning the big, four-wheel-drive sport utility vehicle ever since the model first appeared on the market. He’d waited four months for the custom-outfitted truck and had picked it up from the dealer only a week ago. “I was yelling for Pinky’s benefit. I think he was watching us.”
Comprehension dawned, and her mouth went slack. “I thought you were angry.”
“Not at you.” He touched fingers to the still-burning flesh on the back of his neck. “If it’s any consolation, your buddy roughed me up pretty good. So why didn’t you yell back?”
She toyed with a pen, practically bending it in half. “I thought you were acting unreasonable.”
Insight into her conflicted personality struck him. By nature she was hotheaded and passionate, but she wanted to be calm, cool and collected. Public scenes revealing her true nature pained her. “I assumed you knew I was pretending. Sorry.”
That charming, becoming blush appeared on her cheekbones. Even in jeans and a sweatshirt, with messy hair and not a trace of makeup, she was so beautiful it hurt his heart. He envisioned her wearing emerald silk under her jeans. He longed to kiss and make up with her.
She’d probably slug him if he tried.
“Mike is watching the lot now to see if anyone followed me into the lodge.” He leaned both hands on the desk. “I absolutely do not blame you for Pinky trashing my truck.” He tossed the check in her direction. “And don’t worry about the deductible. It’s covered.”
The telephone rang. Janine answered. She nodded then handed the phone to Daniel. “It’s Mike. He’s calling from his car.”
Daniel put the phone to his ear. “See anything?”
“Nobody followed you into the lodge. I’ve driven four times through the lot and around front, too, but I didn’t see anybody.”
“I could swear he was watching us. Is there any activity at all?”
“Over by the stables, but there’s no one hanging around just doing nothing. I repeat, Mr. Tucker, what you’re doing is idiotic. This Pinky fellow means business. You’ll end up with a bullet in your back and never know what hit you.” Despite the harsh words, the deputy didn’t sound as hostile as before.
“If you have a better idea, I’m willing to listen. Just remember, if Pinky chases me out of here, he’ll go right back to obsessing about the colonel.”
“You might be right. I’ll put in a call and send another deputy out to take a report on the truck damage. Got to warn you, without a witness the chances of proving Pinky did this are about zero.”
“Don’t I know it.” He knew more than most people how difficult it was to connect property vandalism to a specific perpetrator. Stalkers generally knew it, too. Which was why they often vented their rage against their victims’ personal belongings. His stalker had periodically trashed his home. When she couldn’t get inside, she threw rocks through windows and vandalized his garden. Once, she’d used red paint to scrawl obscenities on his car.
“I’m going to tell the state cops about this,” Mike continued. “They might find something to tie in with the arson. Not much chance of that happening, either, but they’ve got the equipment to pursue it.”
“Anything that works.”
“Do the Dukes a favor and get your truck towed out of the lot ASAP. No need to upset guests with Pinky’s love note.”
“I’ll get right on it. Here’s Janine.” Daniel handed her the telephone.
Janine’s side of the conversation consisted of monosyllables. Judging by her expression, the deputy upset her. After she hung up, she said, “Mike spent the whole night patrolling the resort. He kept an eye on the dorm. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
“He’s only one man and this is a big resort. Pinky knows you hired off-duty cops. Don’t ever think he’s stupid.”
“He’s treating us like we’re stupid.”
“That’s his problem.”
“Mike says you’re a screwball.”
He gave the comment a moment of consideration. “Some people think s
o. I prefer unconventional”
The corners of her mouth twitched, and her eyes softened. “And a hotdogger.”
“Guilty as charged.”
A real smile appeared on her lovely face, and Daniel wanted to sigh. He resisted voicing a seductive comment
“He says I’m crazy for allowing you to do what you’re doing.”
“That’s up to you to decide.”
Her gaze turned inward. Her slender fingers tip-tapped on the desk. The smile faded. Mauve shadows marred the tender flesh beneath her eyes, and the scratch stood out like a paint smear on her pale forehead. “I’ve wasted a year denying the effect Pinky has had on me. I used to enjoy getting mail, but now I dread it. I’ve always trusted people to do their jobs. Going around scared and suspicious all the time is killing me.”
He intuited rising self-blame. He knew the pain of the myriad what-ifs and if-onlys. “Pinky isn’t your fault. You did nothing to encourage him.”
“If I’d done something when he sent the first letter—”
“Like what? Erect a billboard telling him to leave you alone? Buy spots on the radio? He set it up so there isn’t anything you can do.”
“If we make him too angry, won’t he go after my father anyway?”
Her primary concern was always for her father. All his life he’d wished for someone who cared that much about him. He wanted this fierce, complex, vulnerable woman to care about him. “Your father is safe as long as Pinky is worrying about me.”
“Does it count if I worry about you?”
He patted the center of his chest “I happen to think I’m pretty tough. Nobody is chewing up my hide without a fight.”
Chapter Seven
“No, no, Mrs. Rowe,” Janine said into the telephone. “Family is more important than the job. We’ll miss Phil, but we’ll survive. He needs to be with you right now.”
Daniel pretended not to listen to her conversation. Her kind tone drew him. No tough girl now, but a compassionate employer concerned about her employee.
