• • •
Asher closed his eyes in pleasure as her soft lips met his own. What was this woman doing to him? A strand of her silky hair blew in the wind and brushed his cheek. He caught it in his hand, smelling the wildflower shampoo she used. Sighing, he deepened the kiss. This woman was perfect.
He had planned on buying her a silver bracelet or some other ornament today, but the way she was making him feel … in the very deepest part of his soul, a bracelet was not the jewelry he wanted to give her. It was something else.
Snapping open his eyes in alarm, he pulled away from the kiss. Wow. That was not where he wanted his thoughts to wander today. He needed to keep it light. Falling that hard for her was out of the question. At least right now. He would think about it later … when he was alone. How could he think when she was near him, anyway?
He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Carly chuckled. Her eyes were half closed and she placed a hand over her heart. “I … ”
Asher grabbed her hand. “Yeah. All I can say is … thank you.”
Chapter Twelve
Nicky stood in the middle of Marilyn’s room gazing into the full-length mirror. “I look ridiculous,” he muttered, and then turned to the side to admire his butt.
“Oh, shut up. You couldn’t look bad if I cut a hole in the bottom of a garbage can and stuck it over your head,” Marilyn retorted. Lounging on the frilly pillows, she smoothed the satin bedspread and grinned at his reflection. “You have to be invisible, darling.”
Nicky sighed. Dressed in camouflage pants and a tight black shirt and army boots, he had to admit he looked buff. But the black ski mask was going a bit too far. “Do I have to wear this thing?” he whined, tugging at his face.
“Do you want that psychopath sheriff to recognize you?” she countered, “If he caught you spying with a video camera, he could make up some excuse and throw you in the clink, Nicky. That would be awful.”
“What if Asher sees me? What am I supposed to tell him … that I’m researching to be Rambo’s understudy?” He sauntered over to the bed and plopped down beside her.
Marilyn reached out and massaged a giant bicep. “He won’t see you. He and Carly are in Albuquerque celebrating her birthday all day long. All you have to do is get your camping gear and go up to that cliff we found yesterday before they come back. If he asks where you are, I’ll just tell him you hitched a ride into town with one of the theater students. I’ll say that you wanted to go to a movie.”
Nicky sighed and flopped backward onto the mound of pillows. “I guess that sounds believable.”
Marilyn chuckled and lifted the mask up to his eyebrows. “You’ll be just fine. And if you catch him, use your cell phone to call the highway patrol or something. For God’s sake, don’t call the sheriff’s office and don’t say you caught Wheeler … just say it’s a dangerous vandal. Make sure you tell the person who answers that you have it on tape, too.”
Nicky frowned and pulled the mask back down. “Jeez, Marilyn. I know what to do. What are you, my mother?”
Reaching over, Marilyn pulled the mask back up and leaned in close. “I may be old enough to be your mother, but I’m sure glad that’s not the case.”
Grinning, Nicky pulled her in for a kiss.
“Marilyn?” The muffled male voice was followed by a soft knock on the door.
“Curses,” whispered Marilyn as she rolled back over. “Get in the closet, Nicky, hurry!”
As he scrambled for the closet, the door creaked open an inch. The voice called again. “Marilyn, are you napping?”
“Hurry up,” she hissed at Nicky.
Rolling his eyes, he moved four large suitcases away from the closet door. “If you didn’t have so much stuff, I’d be in there by now.”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that at the moment. Just get in there somehow.”
Nicky pulled open the closet door and slipped inside. He poked his head back out and said, “You owe me, lady.”
The knock sounded again. “Are you asleep?”
“No darling, come on in,” Marilyn called.
Nicky cracked the closet door and grinned when Marilyn’s eyes widened.
Poking his head into the room, Ross smiled. “Am I disturbing your beauty rest?”
Marilyn sat up and waved her hand in disgust. “Oh for God’s sake, it’s just Ross. Come on out, Nicky.”
Ross snorted and stomped over to the bed. “Well, hello to you, too.”
Ignoring his irritation, Marilyn grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the edge of the bed. “I have something to tell you. I planned to do it earlier, but there were too many people around.”
“This better be good,” Ross said.
“Oh, it is … I promise you that one.” Nicky said as he emerged from the closet and walked to the rocking chair. He lowered himself into it and glared at Marilyn.
Ross stared at him, unblinking. “What the hell do you have on? What are you guys doing … playing some kinky burglar game?”
“No, but I’ll have to take that into consideration.” Marilyn said.
“We’re going to catch Wheeler, Ross,” explained Nicky, “I’m going to hide up a trail with a camera and a pair of binoculars and then if I see him, I’ll sneak down and try to videotape him.”
Ross frowned and scratched his head. “Why didn’t I think of that? Damn.”
“Well, it’s not a foolproof plan, because there’s a good chance that Wheeler won’t even show up tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or the night after that.” Marilyn sighed and reached for a tube of lipgloss on the bedside table. “Poor Nicky could be camping up there for a week before anything happens. If it happens.”
Jumping up, Ross smoothed his shirt and walked to the door. “He won’t have to. Just get me a sexy outfit like that one, and I’ll take turns. Carly’s so preoccupied with the show and Asher … even though she won’t admit to that … she won’t even realize that I’m not sleeping at the hotel every night.”
“You know that it might be dangerous, don’t you?” said Marilyn.
Ross looked at her. “Sure, but so is walking down the street in my neighborhood in Chicago half the time. I think it’s worth it if my best friend is safe, and this show is a success.”
Reaching out, he extended a hand to Nicky. “Deal?”
Nicky grasped it and shook. “Deal.”
“I guess you should take first shift, Rambo, since you’re already dressed up,” Marilyn chuckled, waving her manicured hand toward Nicky.
“There you go again, trying to mother me.” Nicky pulled the ski mask up and glared at her again, his hands on his hips.
Ross eyed Nicky up and down, and then shook his head. “I hate to break up your loving conversation here, but I actually came up to see if you could come down to the costume shop and get dressed up yourself, Marilyn. Remember the publicity photo this afternoon?”
“What? I thought that was tomorrow, darling.” Marilyn jumped up and ran to the dresser, frowning. “Well, I’m glad you reminded me … it will take me at least an hour to put on my face.”
Nicky rolled his eyes and gathered up his camping equipment. “Spare me. You already have ten pounds of makeup on. I’m leaving. See you in the morning, Marilyn.”
As he stomped to the door, she caught his sleeve and whirled him around, whispering, “Sweetie, be very careful. And this is not your mommy talking.” Pulling his head down, she planted a sizzling kiss on his lips.
“Whoa, there. I think I should be the one leaving now.” Ross threw up his hands in mock defense and turned to the door, hesitating as he stepped through. “And Nick? She’s right. Don’t let that bastard see you.”
• • •
Wheeler Barstow spat on the pavement and then leaned back into his cruiser, slamming the door shut. Shaking his he
ad in disgust, he pulled out of the downtown parking lot and drove around the block before heading toward the interstate.
That had been Asher’s van parked back there. With a lipstick sitting on the dashboard, melting in the sun. But what had he and that tramp been doing downtown? Any trips they had made into town lately had been to the hardware store. Or the paint store. Wheeler’s eyes narrowed as he thought about the last time he had talked to Carly. It had been in a paint store.
Damn, but that woman infuriated him. It had been all he could do to keep himself from setting fire to every building in Ruby Spring … starting with that precious theater. But he had resisted. And resisting temptation would pay off in the end. Smiling in grim satisfaction, Wheeler swerved onto the interstate, unmindful of traffic, ignoring the angry honk of the car behind him.
Tonight, his wait was over. Tonight, he would teach her a lesson. And what a good day for it … a day she would never forget. People never forgot things that happened to them on their birthdays.
Swerving again, Wheeler exited the interstate and pointed the cruiser toward his house. He chuckled, thinking of the shock on sweet Carly’s face when she discovered her precious painted theater ceiling covered in black spray paint. And if that wasn’t enough to keep her away from Asher Day, he had another trick up his sleeve. And if he had to do it, it wouldn’t be just Carly who got hurt. He almost wished she would defy him.
Pulling into his driveway, he growled as his radio crackled. He didn’t want to answer it, he wanted to go in the house and get a drink. It had been hours. But he had been on duty, and he didn’t want his boss all over his ass, friend or no.
Snatching up the radio, Wheeler kicked open the car door. “What do you want?”
“Jeez, buddy, what crawled under your saddle?” His boss and best friend, Joe Simmons, laughed and then let out a wheezing cough.
“Nothin’. I’m just tired today, is all. What do you want, Joe?”
The annoying laugh crackled through the speakers again. “You tie one on last night? Why didn’t you invite me, huh?”
“I wasn’t drunk last night. Just didn’t sleep well.” Wheeler sighed, closing his eyes. He let his sweaty head back against the cool vinyl headrest.
“Well, then, I hate to do this to you, but we really need to follow up on the vandalism report from Ruby Spring. It’s been four weeks, and as much as I can’t stand that clumsy dumbass Daniel Day, we have to serve and protect, ya know?”
Wheeler’s eyes snapped open and he shifted in the seat, fully alert now. He had torn up the statement that the pansy Ross had made him take the day of the “accident.” Who needed to know? As far what he had told the department, a stupid idiot had fallen off a ladder. End of story. “Someone filed a complaint? I’ll be damned.”
“Yeah, of all the nerve,” Joe shot back. “Dang, Wheeler. People file complaints all the time. Anyway, I need you to go on up there tonight and check it out. I know you had to go last time when that fool fell off a ladder, but you were in the area then.”
Wheeler opened his eyes and grinned. What a perfect cover. Good thing he wasn’t having this conversation in person. Taking a deep breath, he summoned his acting skills. “Man, why me?” he whined.
“Oh, come on, buddy. I don’t want to do it, and you’re the only one with no overtime yet this month, you lazy ass. It won’t take you that long.”
Sighing again for effect, Wheeler gripped the radio in his sweaty palm. “I guess so. But you owe me, Joe.”
Joe chortled again and Wheeler pictured him kicked back, feet on the desk, his pudgy hands clasped over his belly, a bag of French fries on the messy pile of papers in front of him.
“I don’t owe you nothin’, Wheeler. You owe me, still, you pretty boy son of a bitch.” His laughter bellowed and Wheeler reached out to turn down the volume.
It was true. Joe had covered for him countless times when he had been drunk on the job, or found himself in a bar fight off duty.
“Yeah,” Wheeler answered in a surly voice. “But I’m off duty until then, Joe. So don’t call me.” Sighing again, he turned off the ignition and heaved himself out of the car.
No matter how irritating Joe was, though, nothing could stop his excitement about tonight. And no one could possibly pin it on him. He was going to be up there on official business. Stretching, Wheeler stomped to his front door. Damn, but he was tired. A little hair of the dog and a nap would take care of that, though. Then it would be time for some fun. He couldn’t wait to give Carly her birthday present.
As the sun was setting that evening, Wheeler yawned as he turned off the hot shower and peered out the foggy bathroom window. Almost time.
He had had a hard time getting to sleep that afternoon, but finally was able to shelve his nervous, angry energy with a few stiff shots of liquor. Once asleep, though, his mind wouldn’t shut off. He dreamed, and like most of his dreams these days, it was about Carly.
In this one, she was dressed in that cute sundress and tennis shoes … just like that night they had gone out together. The night she became his girlfriend. She had painted her face up like a hooker, though, and he hadn’t liked that. And he especially hadn’t liked how, in the dream, she had kept rubbing his back and calling him Asher.
The last person in the world he wanted to trade places with was that useless excuse for a man, Asher Day. As Wheeler combed back his wet blond hair he smirked, picturing that skinny fool acting as Carly’s bodyguard. Like it was going to do any good. He doubted that Day could get one good punch in before he went down in a heap.
Cracking his knuckles, Wheeler flipped on the radio and hummed along to country music as he dressed in black jeans and a black sweater. He had almost decided to just go ahead and wear his uniform, but Joe would back him up if those whiners up in Ruby Spring found him where he shouldn’t be. Joe always backed him up.
He looked into the mirror at his red-rimmed, bleary blue eyes and quit humming. It was Carly’s fault that his handsome face looked like hell. Cursing, he crossed the bedroom and yanked out the drawer on his bedside table, dumping the contents on the bed.
A half a dozen or so crumpled computer-printed photos of Carly lay among empty pint bottles and match books. It was amazing what pictures a person could find on the Internet. Wheeler’s laugh was brittle as he picked one up and smoothed it out. It was a printout from a two-year-old playbill from a theater in Minnesota. Her easy smile greeted him, welcomed him.
Didn’t that woman realize that they were meant to be together? Well, she would soon. Still laughing, he walked outside and checked his trunk. A paper bag containing spray paint and a crow bar sat next to the spare tire. Chuckling, he slammed the trunk and got in the car. He patted his hip pocket for the flask. It was there, like an old friend.
• • •
“This sucks,” Nicky muttered to himself as he draped a sleeping bag around his shivering shoulders. Although it had been hot all day long, he should have remembered how cold it got up at this elevation once the sun went down. And dark.
Pacing his campsite, he sighed. As much as he wanted to help Marilyn, he doubted whether anything would come of her “super sexy spy plan,” as she called it. There just wasn’t enough light down by the buildings in Ruby Spring. What he did have on his side, though, was the quiet. Any unusual noise would alert him, and he would start sneaking down the trail right away.
Almost as if on cue, the unmistakable noise of a car engine began to echo through the pass outside Ruby Spring. Nicky threw off the sleeping bag and ran to an outcropping in time to see dim headlights round a bend and then disappear again. He crouched and reached for the video camera to check the batteries.
The headlights appeared again, this time closer. The engine was louder, and with it was a faint pounding, like a deep bass. Frowning, Nicky scrambled to the edge and peered over. He couldn’t see anything except for
the shadowy outlines of bushes and the buildings far below. But the insistent throbbing noise grew clearer.
Music. Rap music … or some kind of driving rock. It was rock music. Heavy metal, actually. And though Nicky didn’t know Asher and Carly very well, he seriously doubted that they listened to that type of music. It had to be Wheeler.
His stomach fluttering, he eased back from the outcropping and pulled the binoculars from the bag strapped around his waist. Suddenly, the faint echo of the pulsing bass ceased, and soon after it, so did the noise of the car engine.
Silence took hold for less than ten seconds, and his cell phone rang loudly. Startled, he fumbled for it in the deep pockets of his camouflage pants. It took him four rings to find it, and by the time he saw Marilyn’s number on the screen, his apprehension had turned to annoyance.
“What?” he said with a hiss.
“Nicky, I think he’s here.”
“I know that,” he answered, “but how do you know?”
Marilyn whispered, “Because I’m on the porch and I heard the music. Asher doesn’t listen to that crap.”
Nicky sighed in exasperation. “Woman, get back inside. That’s all we need, for that freak show cop to find you all but waiting for him dressed in a black negligee with feathers and rhinestones … just sitting there.”
“For your information, it’s not black, it’s emerald. But yes, rhinestones.”
“Who cares what color it is … just go back inside. Now.”
She grumbled, and then sighed, relenting. “Fine. I’ll go. I just wanted to let you know, in case you didn’t … ”
She trailed off and Nicky rolled his eyes, waiting for her to flit back to her train of thought. When she didn’t continue, he frowned.
“Marilyn?”
There was no answer.
“Marilyn, are you there?”
He stood up and brought the binoculars to his face, scanning for the shape of the hotel in the darkness. Damn, it was pitch black. This stakeout was a foolish idea. And now Marilyn could be in trouble, and he was all the way up here.
Heart to Heart Page 107
