by Cassie Miles
“Well, I suppose it’s all right,” the nurse said, adjusting her glasses. “Mandy is in a two-person room, but she doesn’t have a roommate right now, so you won’t disturb anyone else. Be quick about it.”
“We will.” Tasha led the way down the corridor. Under her breath to David, she said, “Good thing we’re in a hospital.”
“Why’s that?”
“When the nurse asked if you were the father, I was sure you were going to have a heart attack.”
“Very funny.” But he didn’t look the least bit amused.
“Do you have any children, David?”
“No. I was married once. But it didn’t last and we didn’t have kids.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as if shaking off an unpleasant memory. “Someday, though, I want two. A boy and a girl.”
Tasha peeked into Mandy’s room. She was sitting up on the bed, cradling a tiny, flannel-wrapped bundle in her arms and cooing softly. When she looked up, Mandy beamed a smile that was as brilliant as a rainbow. In all the time she worked at Bloom’s, this teenager had never looked so happy.
“Motherhood agrees with you,” Tasha said.
“Yeah, it does.” Mandy stroked the fine dark hair on her baby’s head. “I love Ruby so much.”
David hovered on the opposite side of the bed. In his navy blue suit and open-collared white shirt that revealed a glimpse of dark hair at his throat, he looked totally masculine and out of place in this hospital room. Yet he didn’t appear to be uncomfortable. “Mandy, can I hold her?”
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
“I’m a bodyguard. I’m always careful.”
She eased the baby away from her breast, and David lifted the tiny infant, taking care that she wasn’t pressed against the gun in his shoulder holster. His features softened as he gazed down at the little round face. In a low, private voice, he told Ruby that she was the most beautiful girl in the whole world. When she wiggled in his arms, he chuckled with sheer delight. “She smiled at me.”
Tasha exchanged a glance with Mandy, and the two women silently acknowledged that the baby’s smile was probably gas. But neither of them corrected David’s perception. His natural, sincere fascination with Ruby charmed Tasha. The picture of a big, strong, handsome man playing with a fragile infant was a heartbreaker. Someday, she thought, he wanted kids. His warm affection for Ruby made her think that someday might be very soon. His biological clock was ticking even more loudly than her own.
She scooted around the bed to stand beside him. “My turn.”
“Come on, Tasha, I’ve barely had a chance.” Little Ruby’s hand was barely large enough to reach around his index finger, and he murmured to her, “Not long enough. Huh, pretty girl. You want to play with Uncle David, don’t you?”
“Please, David. I have to go to work. You can stay.”
With a sigh, he surrendered the child. When Tasha clasped the warm little body to her bosom, a surge of maternal yearning flowed through her. Ruby was beautiful. She was perfect. Ruby’s eyes, bright as sapphires, shone at her. The delicate, rosebud lips pursed in an expression that appeared to be both thoughtful and wise. Did babies think? Did these tiny biological miracles come from a magical place, imbued with knowledge that adults could only guess at? Or was it gas?
Ruby made a squeaky noise, and Mandy immediately responded, “She wants her mommy.”
“And that’s you.” Reluctantly, Tasha passed Ruby back to her mother. “Are you breast-feeding?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think she’s hungry because she just ate. And I burped her.” With Ruby safely cuddled in her arms, Mandy smiled again. “You were right about taking those newborn baby care classes, Tasha. I’m not freaked at all, and I have a pretty good idea what to do.”
“You’re going to be a terrific mommy.”
“I hope so. Ruby deserves the best.”
With a sigh, Tasha returned her mind to more practical concerns. “I’ve got to get back to Bloom’s.”
“I’m sorry we ran out of there yesterday,” Mandy said. “I kind of left a mess.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m going to hire somebody to fill in for a couple of months, then I want you to come back to work for me.”
“I don’t know. Day-care is—”
“Unnecessary,” Tasha said. “I would be thrilled if you brought Ruby with you to work. We can figure it out. I promise.”
“You’re the best friend I ever had. Can I ask you something important?”
“Sure.”
“Tasha, would you be Ruby’s godmother?”
“Oh, yes. That would make me very happy.”
If, by some benevolent quirk of fate, Tasha managed to survive the next few weeks, she would be overjoyed to be a godmother. If she were still alive, she would embrace life as never before. She wouldn’t waste any time being bitter or frightened. If she survived.
“I’m going now,” she said with a glance at David.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“Tonight. At the apartment,” she said firmly. She was supposed to telephone Cerise at six o’clock. “I should be home by seven, but if it’s later, I’ll call.”
“Okay. Bye.”
He watched her leave the hospital room as he settled into the single chair beside Mandy’s bed.
“You look good together,” Mandy said. “You and Tasha.”
“Do we?”
“I think you kind of like her.”
“Kind of,” David agreed. Though it seemed slimy to weasel information from Tasha’s assistant, David needed more facts. “I don’t know too much about her, though.”
“I do,” Mandy cheerfully volunteered. “What do you want to know?”
“This twin sister of hers. Stacey? Do you think they were close when they were growing up?”
“Totally,” Mandy said. “When they were, like, fifteen years old, they ran away from home together and went to work for a magician. Isn’t that so bad?”
“Bad?”
“Bad means good,” she explained. “Cool? Neat-o? Anyway, it sounded like the best job. They got to travel all over the world. In France and England and everywhere.”
“What did they do in the magic act?”
“Tasha said they did all kinds of twin things where one of them would disappear in one place and the other would appear someplace else.”
Of course, he thought. A set of twins would be handy for performing illusions.
Mandy’s voice changed as she talked to Ruby. “That’s right, little girl, I’m talking about Tasha, your godmother.”
“What else?” David asked.
“You really want to know about her, don’t you?”
He rationalized that he truly did want to know about Tasha. It was part of his job. He wasn’t really taking advantage of Mandy’s naiveté. “I do.”
“Another thing they did with this magician was escapes.”
“Like Houdini.”
“Whatever. You know, like Tasha would get locked up in handcuffs and chains and stuffed inside a safe. Then she’d break out. She said they would, like, come into a town and the local cops would use their own cuffs. One time, they got locked in a bank vault.”
Swell, he thought, Tasha had expert training from a magician on how to crack a safe. “I wonder how they did those tricks?”
“Here’s the best part. It wasn’t a trick.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you noticed how Tasha always wears gloves?”
He nodded.
“Well, it’s because she has this really superdeveloped sense of touch. And her sister, Stacey, has it, too. When this magician guy found out about it, he showed them everything he knew because they were, like, ten times better than anybody. You should see her do card tricks.”
“Great,” David muttered.
“Oh, yeah, and you have to ask her to show you how to pick somebody’s pocket or pick a lock. She’s, like, incredible. One time she took a necklace right off
my throat and I didn’t feel a thing.”
Inwardly, David groaned. He didn’t find much assurance in the fact that Tasha had kept up her pickpocket skills. It seemed that she and her twin were naturally gifted with the very talents that a cat burglar would need.
Chapter Eight
Sunday morning at Bloom’s was usually a quiet time, but after leaving early on Saturday with none of the regular duties taken care of, Tasha felt as if she’d entered a marathon from two miles behind the starting gate. There were deposits to make, balances to calculate, plants to water, flowers to be arranged, deliveries to be filled. Thank goodness she’d taken care of the church flowers yesterday morning.
She raced through the door, grabbing half a dozen notes that had been shoved through the mail slot and turning on lights. The interior of the store was chilly, and she discovered that the door to the refrigerated unit had been left open. She slammed and latched the door, turned up the thermostat and glared at the hectic, blinking light on the telephone message machine.
A million things to do! On the plus side, this morning promised to be so busy that she wouldn’t have a spare minute to think about David. Oh, David…Immediately, a series of images flashed across her mind. David, walking from her bedroom in his underwear. David, pacing in the hospital waiting room. David in his tuxedo, the most handsome man at the premier showing. David, David, David.
Desperately, she wished she could tell him the whole truth. But she couldn’t take that risk. She couldn’t trust David to ignore his principles. If he went to the police…
Forget about David! She needed to keep busy. She couldn’t allow herself to think about how cozy it was this morning when she wakened beside his warm body.
With firm resolve, Tasha stacked the notes beside the phone. Only one required immediate attention: A special delivery of African violets had been left next door at Pola and Tweed.
Though the jewelry store didn’t officially open until noon, Tasha went around to the rear entrance where an armed security guard sat in a lawn chair, reading the Sunday comic section of the Denver Post.
“Excuse me,” Tasha said.
The gray-haired guard peeked over the top of the paper. “You’re the lady from next door.”
“That’s right. And I have a bit of a problem. Yesterday, a deliveryman left a shipment here. They’re delicate plants, and I’m concerned about them. Can you let me inside?”
“I’m not allowed to do that, miss.”
There was a Texas twang in his voice and he appeared to be so relaxed that he was almost comatose. She noticed, however, that his right hand rested on the butt of his revolver, and she suspected that this lanky old Texan would be quick as a rattlesnake if action were required.
“I don’t suppose Janet Pola is here yet.”
“No, miss. She surely ain’t.”
Tasha was certain that he had a key to get inside. In fact, he’d probably spent the night on the interior of the shop. “Could you telephone Janet and ask her if it’s okay for me to go inside?”
His weathered face pulled into a scowl as he cogitated, then he took the cellular phone off his belt and made the call while Tasha stood waiting impatiently, counting the seconds, thinking of all the tasks she needed to accomplish before she opened her doors for business at noon.
When the security guard disconnected his call, he turned back to her. “Missus Pola says it’s okay, but here comes the man you really need to talk to.”
Slowly, Tasha wheeled around, knowing who she would see. “Inspector Henning.”
“Good morning, Miss Lancer.” His burred British accent was crisp. “Bribing the guard?”
“Oh, please don’t start.”
“I’m wondering why else you might be here.”
“All right, have it your way. You’re right. I came over here to seduce this gentleman.” She gestured to her rather dowdy turtleneck and midiskirt. “As you can see, I’m wearing my highly erotic Dance of the Seven Veils costume.”
“Rather snippy for a Sunday, aren’t we?”
Tasha could have launched into a sermon about respect and disrespect and presumption of innocence until proven guilty. Instead, she stated the facts. “A delivery of plants to my store was left here. I just want the flowers. Okay?”
The security guard added, “I spoke with Missus Pola, and she gave the go-ahead.”
“In future,” Henning said, “permission to enter the store when it is not officially open for business comes only from me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir, Inspector.”
Henning held out his hand for the keys. “I will accompany this lady into the store.”
After Henning used three separate keys to unlock the doors, they stepped inside where he deactivated a computer alarm. Tasha followed him. Almost immediately, she spied the flat containing her African violets in the small employee lounge area at the very rear of the store. “Here they are,” she said. “I’ll be going now.”
Henning blocked the exit. “Don’t run off, my dear little Tasha. Or is it Stacey?”
“All I want is the flowers.”
“Come with me.” His snotty arrogance befitted his hefty swagger as he pointed toward the hallway that led past Janet’s office toward, as Tasha knew, the vault. “You might as well check out the security.”
“I’d rather go,” she said.
“My dear, I would prefer not to have you traipsing in and out with ridiculous excuses and pestering the guards. Do allow me to show you our extensive precautions.”
“Listen, Henning, I’ve been in and out of here a million times. Janet and I are friends.”
“Then you must be aware that we have upgraded the lock system on the vault. It is timed to open one half hour before the store opens. It closes one half hour after closing time. All computerized. To override the system takes a special key and direct notification of the local police.”
Honestly, she said, “I couldn’t care less.”
He studied her with insultingly frank scrutiny. “I wonder which one you are. The spunky, industrious, little Natasha? Or are you the sophisticated, world-weary Anastasia?”
“I’m Tasha.” She picked up the flat of violets. “And I’m leaving.”
“I understand there was a disturbance at your so-called shop yesterday. An assault perpetrated by a Mr. Green.”
“Yes. And my assistant went into labor.”
“Where there’s a Green, there’s a Brown, and often, a Sienna. Or Cerise.” He stepped in front of her to block her exit from the shop. “Their name is Spectrum. They operate primarily in Europe. Jewel thieves. Though they have, on occasion, branched into other endeavors.”
“Let me pass. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Very good!” His round, cherubic face became a cold mask. “You and your sister were always the most wonderful liars. Not a twitch or a tic or a blink to betray your perfidy. Come with me.”
When he reached toward her, Tasha darted away. She despised Henning’s smugness. In Miami, he’d kept her in police custody for twenty-four hours before Stacey could arrange for her release. Henning had perfected the art of tiptoeing around the rules without technically breaking the law.
“How’s your mother?”
Tasha was taken aback. “Why are you asking about my mother?”
“I’ve had cause to consult with her on occasion, to seek her expertise on jewelry. She seems to have a great vitality, a strong acquisitive nature, almost a greed. Family trait?”
Her lips were tight. “Mother is fine.”
“Do you suppose she’ll be coming into Denver to view the rubies?” His thick lips pursed in a sneer. “Do you know her plans?”
Tasha rolled her eyes. “No doubt she’s organized the other residents of her retirement community near Vail into a troupe of geriatric cat burglars. Now, if you don’t mind—”
“But I do mind, Miss Lancer. This time you’re not going to get away with it.”
“Let me by!” s
he yelled, loudly enough that the lanky Texan guard poked his head inside.
“Very well,” Henning said. “I’ll be in touch.”
As Tasha marched stiffly toward the rear entrance to Bloom’s, carrying her tray of violets, she couldn’t decide which was worse. Green saying he’d be watching her? Or Henning promising to stay in touch? Both men despised her. Both wanted to hurt her. Both threatened. In her mind, the only difference between them was that Henning was supposedly on the right side of the law and Green was on the other.
After she’d taken care of the bookkeeping chores and answered her most urgent phone messages, Tasha moved on to the more practical, more satisfying tasks of preparing flowers. She opened the heavy door to the large walk-in refrigerated unit.
“Oh, no!” Her heart plummeted as she beheld the chaos. Flowers were strewn in all directions. Carnations, gladiolus, tulips, lilies. Crushed and broken. Long stems of roses snapped and maimed. Tubs of water were overturned. Handfuls of dirt, flung against the walls, dribbled into mud puddles on the linoleum floor.
Why?
Was this a message from Green, showing her that Bloom’s was worthless except as a front?
Maybe it was Henning who had done this. He could have slipped in and out easily. But why?
Pure cruelty, she thought. Nothing else could explain the wanton destruction of these beautiful blossoms. She bent down and picked up a single white tulip that had somehow escaped being trampled. Once again, she wished that David were here to help her, to soothe her aching vulnerability.
But she couldn’t call on him. If Green knew he was a bodyguard, he’d probably kill David. If Henning knew, he’d suspect her even more than before.
David couldn’t help. In spite of her temporary sense of security when he came back to her last night, Tasha couldn’t call on him. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She was alone.
But not helpless! Her outrage flared, shot to the boiling point so quickly that she didn’t even feel the refrigerated chill. Damn them all! This was her life! Bloom’s was her future. She wasn’t going to give up, wasn’t going to dump everything she’d worked for. They weren’t going to beat her down. Not without a fight.
