The Ninth Floor

by Liz Schulte

  “Why wouldn’t I be? Damn it, you’d better start telling me something soon, or I’ll make a huge scene. What’s going on?”

  “You should really talk to Mom and Dad about this.”

  “Well, I’m talking to you. You’re the one who asked the police to keep an eye on me.”

  He took a drink of water and glared at me. “For your protection.”

  “From who?”

  “There have been threats.”

  I sat back. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would threaten me. I’d never done anything to purposefully hurt someone. I hadn’t been back in so long. “What do you mean threats?”

  “Letters mostly. We never received any packages. But the intent was always clear. Someone is obsessed with you and …”

  “And?”

  “And Dad’s FBI friend thinks it could escalate into something more dangerous.”

  “Like someone might try to kill me?”

  He nodded.

  “How do you know all of this? I haven’t been back that long.”

  “They’ve been coming for years, Ryan.”

  I picked up my water to take a sip but sat it back down. “Are you kidding me?”

  Ashley pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Mom and Dad have had every government agency look at them. Experts on handwriting analysis, criminal profilers, anyone who might be able to give a clue as to who’s behind it, but no one’s come up with anything. So now it’s just something we live with.”

  “And why am I just hearing about this now? If it’s true, I could’ve been attacked at any time and no one bothered to tell me?”

  “We didn’t tell you because you didn’t need to know. The less contact we had with you, the better it was for you. If the person knew where you were, they wouldn’t have sent the letters to the house. We kept our distance to protect you. Dad even hired your bodyguard through a shell corporation so the money couldn’t be traced.”

  “Ashley, this doesn’t make sense. How long has it been going on?”

  “Off and on since you were about seven—though the letters have gotten more frequent in the past few years. The only thing that’s important is that we’ve taken the necessary steps to protect you.”

  “What do you mean ‘necessary steps’?”

  “You’ve had a private security company following you at a distance, I’ve asked the sheriff’s office to keep an eye out on the store, and there’s a tracking device on your car.”

  “You put a tracker on my car?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was not at all what I’d expected.

  “You wouldn’t take one of my cars, so what choice did I have?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “How could you think that any of this is okay? You didn’t tell me anything.”

  “You would’ve fought us.”

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Does Blair know?”

  He shook his head. “No. Blair never could keep secrets.”

  “Who is this bodyguard? How did I never see him at the hospital?”

  He shrugged. “He’s supposed to stay away from you. We didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Well, it’s too late now. I want it all to stop.”

  “Ryan—”

  “No. It’s no wonder people were afraid to talk to me. They all probably know and think I’m on some hit list.”

  “No one else knows,” he said.

  “Let me be clear. I don’t want a bodyguard. I don’t want the police to check on me. If I’m going to stay here, I want a normal life.”

  “So you’d rather be stalked? I heard a nurse recently died at the hospital.”

  I swallowed hard. “That had nothing to do with me.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “Yes. The intent of the letters was clear.”

  “I want to see them.”

  Ashley drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t have them.”

  “Who does?”

  “Mom and Dad, but I’m not calling off the security.”

  I rubbed my hands over my eyes. This was all too much. “Did Bee know about any of this?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

  He crossed his legs. “Do you have any more questions?”

  Nothing came to mind. “Not right now.” I had trouble thinking of anything other than the bomb he’d dropped on me.

  “Then I have nothing else to tell.”

  Damn politicians.

  *

  By the time I got home, I was exhausted and the top of my head felt like it could pop off at any time.

  “You’re going to love it.” Vivian met me at the door wearing a cute red dress, buzzing with excitement. I’d forgotten I was getting my furniture. “Close your eyes,” she said.

  “I’m not closing my eyes.” I walked into the apartment and stared in astonishment. It was like a different world—if you lopped off the useless kitchen. Vivian had candles lit everywhere. The cream-colored furniture was gorgeous and made me want to run my hands over it. The chocolaty-brown velvet throw pillows were just the right amount of texture. Lovely linen drapes edged with black velvet hung from the ceiling all the way to the floor. Somehow, Vivian had even managed to replace the drab light fixture with a more modern one that looked like clusters of faery lights. It was almost enough to make me forget stalkers and bodyguards.

  I threw my arms around her. “It’s perfect.”

  “See? I totally earned a night off.”

  I laughed. “You know you don’t have to do all this.”

  “I want to. I love it.”

  “Well, you’re awesome at it. Have you considered starting an interior decorating business?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious. I think you’d do really well.”

  Viv smiled shyly and waved her hand. Then she hopped up. “I’m so glad you like it.” She started going into detail about each piece, but I held up my hand for her to wait.

  “I really do love it, but I have something I need to do really quick.” I went to the balcony and scanned the street for my security detail. I knew they were there, and I wanted to know where. I spotted a car that looked familiar. I needed a closer look. I went back inside, grabbed leashes, and headed for the door.

  “Ryan?”

  “What?”

  “Where are you going? You just got home.”

  “I promise I’ll explain everything later, but I have to do this right now.”

  I exited through the back of the building and circled the block so I could sneak up. My stomach twisted nervously as I got closer. I caught the man’s reflection in his side mirror and knew I was right. I thumped on the window. Aiden frowned at me. He rolled down his window.

  “This defeats the purpose, Ms. Sterling,” he said.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “Get in the car.”

  “No.”

  “You’re drawing attention to yourself.” He leaned over and pushed open the passenger door.

  I shifted from one foot to the other. If I wanted answers I really didn’t have a choice. “You were saying why you aren’t surprised to see me?”

  “Your brother informed me.”

  “When?”

  “After the two of you had your chat.”

  I nodded. “I suppose demanding you stop following me is pointless?”

  He rolled his eyes. I took that as confirmation—pointless. “He also said you received some packages. How were they delivered?”

  “They were at my front door. Two at Bee’s cottage and one at the apartment.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How long had you been in the apartment when you received one there?”

  “A day or two.”

  He frowned.

  “So you’re my bodyguard?” I chattered on. “You didn’t stay as hidden as I thought.” I actually minded having a guard less knowing
it was Aiden.

  “It wasn’t my decision on whether or not to tell you.”

  “I know.” I opened the door and got out. “All things considered, I’m glad it’s you—but don’t think I wasn’t already suspicious—you were always there. It was creepy.” I smiled and shut the door.

  “If you have any problems, I’ll be here, Ms. Sterling,” he said through the window as I came around the car.

  “Call me Ryan. I should be in all night tonight, and Jack is coming over.”

  Aiden nodded and rolled his window up. I went back to my apartment, feeling better than I had when I first came home. Vivian was about to leave.

  “I have to go meet your brother for drinks, but I’ll be awaiting your explanation.”

  “You what?” My eyes felt like they might bulge out of my skull. “Which brother?”

  She laughed. “Blair, of course, and it’s not like that. We’re only friends. But glad to know how you really feel.”

  “Well, in case I wasn’t clear, I really feel my brother is off limits.”

  She held up her hands in surrender. “I promise.”

  I nodded and resisted the urge to make her change her clothes. Her red dress had suddenly morphed from cute to practically nonexistent in my mind. Jack entered just as Viv left, looking entirely too good to stay angry with in jeans and a blue and white plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his tan forearms. His eyes shone like two little chunks of the sky on a sunny afternoon, and his hair looked slightly wet. I longed to run my fingers through his damp curls.

  I crossed my arms over my chest to fight the urge and bit back the smile that wanted to take over when Jack gave me his charming lopsided grin. He leaned down to kiss me, but I turned my head. Jack made a face. “Still mad, huh?”

  “What on earth would possess you to say I’d go back to that house?”

  “I didn’t technically say that.”

  I tapped my foot impatiently and waited for his excuse.

  “I thought maybe next time you guys could meet on neutral ground—might be less awkward. Like have dinner, or even just drinks or something, at a restaurant?”

  “Great. That way Mother and I can take jabs at each other in public.” I shook my head. “You had no right to interfere.”

  “Other than you involved me by bringing me to dinner.” He tilted his head. “However, I’m sorry if I upset you.” His eyes were warm with sincerity, making me melt a little. “But I think it would be good for you to close this chapter in your life. You don’t have to like them or even be friends with them, but they are your family. It’s sad if you can’t stand to even be in the same town as them.”

  He had a point, but that didn’t mean anything was going to change. We were Sterlings, after all. Jack, however, wasn’t to blame. “So,” I said, stepping closer, “this is all about you wanting me to stay in town?”

  He pushed a strand of hair from my face. “That may be a factor.” Jack closed the distance between us and ran his hands from my waist down to my hips then back up again. “Am I forgiven?”

  “I’m thinking about it.” My already low voice became throaty as he touched me. His soft lips found mine and kissed me until I was pressed between the doorjamb and his body. When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, and he was definitely forgiven. I pushed him back. “You’re here to paint.”

  “Lead the way,” he said. His mouth fell open when he saw my transformed living room. “You aren’t playing fair.”

  “What?”

  “Dim lights, candles, the couch …How am I supposed to focus on painting?”

  I sighed. “Try.”

  We ordered pizza and got to work. Jack made a great painting partner—efficient, neat, and precise. We were done with the first coat before the pizza arrived. I was washing my hands when my cell rang in the living room.

  “Would you get that, please?” I called, worried it was Bee, Blair, Vivian—or a lost pizza guy. I rushed to scrub off the rest of the paint and dry my hands. Jack met me at the door, holding out the phone, a strange expression on his face. “Hello?” I said as I took the phone.

  “Who was that?” Briggs’s voice growled at me.

  “None of your business. What do want? Did you get my email about the dogs?” He didn’t say anything, but I could hear him breathing. “Are you going to talk or should I hang up?” I walked past Jack, not liking him watching me talk to Briggs. I went out on the balcony, too paranoid about leaving a paint mark to risk sitting on my pretty new furniture.

  “I got it,” Briggs finally said like it hurt him to talk. “I don’t want to send them alone. Can’t you come and get them?”

  “I need to be here, Briggs. She could be dying. I’m not leaving.”

  “Then I’ll bring them to you.”

  “No. People fly dogs without being on the plane all the time. Just follow the instructions I sent and it will be fine. Don’t come here.”

  He made a noise. “Why not?”

  Now it was my turn to pause. The truth was on the tip of my tongue, and I’d never been a very good liar. I didn’t want to tell Briggs he couldn’t come because just hearing the sound of his voice broke my heart. I didn’t know what seeing him would do. I also didn’t want to say I could see potential for a good thing with Jack, and I was just starting to feel normal again. “I don’t want to see you.” I mentally kicked myself for how pathetic I sounded.

  “Ryan—”

  I steeled my spine and made my voice harsh. “This isn’t a discussion. Send the dogs and stay out of my life.” I took a couple deep breaths before going back inside.

  Jack was leaned against the kitchen counter holding the pizza box. “I take it you don’t want to eat on the furniture?”

  I shook my head. “Balcony?”

  Jack nodded. “Is Briggs the reason we’re taking things slow?”

  “Not that slow,” I said under my breath as he walked past me, making him laugh.

  “But he’s an ex-boyfriend?”

  The question made me sigh. “Yeah. He still has my dogs, and I’m trying to get them back, but Briggs can be difficult.”

  “Maybe he’s trying to win you back,” he said too casually.

  “Trust me, Briggs doesn’t want me back.” Jack shrugged and started to ask something else, but I cut him off. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about him. I want to close that chapter of my life for good. I’m making a fresh start here.”

  Jack was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Fair enough.”

  Awkward silence filled the night air. I picked at my pizza, feeling guilty. “We started dating as freshman. We never fought, were the perfect couple. One day I got home from work and he was gone. He left a note on the door saying he didn’t want to see me anymore and not to call. That’s it. No explanation. I tried to talk to him, but he never gave me a clear reason. One day we were together and happy, and the next I was public enemy number one.” I shrugged to keep my shoulders from sagging, unable to make eye contact with Jack.

  “Did you have an affair?”

  “No.” My gaze flicked over to him, astonished he would think that about me.

  “Did he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You really have no idea why it ended?”

  I put my half-eaten piece of pizza down. “No clue. And now you see how I know he doesn’t want me back.”

  Jack shook his head. “What an asshole. The very least he could do is tell you why.”

  “I don’t care anymore. I just don’t want to see him or talk to him again. Once I get Sid and Nancy back, he’s out of my life—forever.” I pushed a smile onto my face. “So now you know all my drama, and I know none of yours.”

  “I’m an orphan.”

  “Really?”

  He laughed. “Why would I lie about that? Yes, but it’s not really dramatic. I had wonderful foster parents who ended up adopting me. A few ex-girlfriends, but no terrible heartbreaks. I worked my way through college and med school. Now I’m pa
ying off the loans.”

  “So your whole life has been smooth sailing? Must be nice.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. It’s been hard work, but that never hurt anyone.”

  The rest of the meal was significantly lighter. I appreciated how Jack was so even-keeled and happy. I could feel his positivity rubbing off on me the more we were together. He had made something of himself despite the odds. Briggs had had everything handed to him on a silver platter, but he rejected it as I had. We were going to show our families we didn’t need or want their money—we could make our own—but he never had to work like Jack did. Neither did I, for that matter. I respected what he was able to do.

  We sat and stared out at the street lights when the pizza was gone, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. My eyes scanned the streets, windows, and pedestrians below. It took a moment to realize what I was doing. I was looking for Aiden. As much as I didn’t want a bodyguard, it was comforting to know he was around all the same. I spotted his car across the street, but I couldn’t see him in it. Jack said something I didn’t quite catch, pulling me back to the present. It seemed like as good a time as any to ask the question that had been in the back of my mind.

  “What’s on the ninth floor?”

  Jack frowned. “I told you. Nothing.”

  “There has to be something, or why would it be locked?” I smiled slyly.

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just ghost stories.”

  “Great, I love ghost stories. Tell me.”

  “How are you from here and haven’t heard these stories?”

  “I’m from here in the loosest sense. I have only spent summers in Goodson Hollow since I was seven. It isn’t like I had local friends, and my family would hardly consider ghost stories dinner conversation.

  “I don’t like being the only one without the scoop on spooky St. Mike’s. I asked Bee and the nurse but no one would tell me anything. So far you’re the most willing informant I’ve found.”

  “Probably because I’m the only one who doesn’t believe it.”

  “But there are weird things that happen there. Someone called my name while I was waiting for Bee to come back from x-ray. The closet opened and closed on its own …”

  Jack’s mouth pursed. “Normally, it’s only the seriously ill patients who hear their name called.” He tilted his head and studied me for a moment, sending chills down my spine. “Have you been feeling okay?”