The Secret Millionaire

by Ryanne Corey

  Zack stared him down with cool gray eyes, the same look he used on punk teenagers with an attitude. “Down, boy. Back to your mopping. Look here, someone has broken a bottle of cough syrup all over the floor. That’s too bad.”

  “I’ll never get out of here,” the kid grumbled. “Hey, man, what’s that on your shirt? You’ve got her watch or something caught on your button.”

  Zack looked down his nose at the middle of his chest. There was indeed a delicate silver chain dangling there; the clasp was caught in the loose thread from a button. “It’s not a watch,” he said, more to himself than the clerk. Carefully he untangled the almost weightless piece of jewelry from the front placket of his shirt. “It’s a bracelet. Her initials are on the clasp…H.S. I wonder what they stand for.”

  “Heather,” the clerk said promptly, his attention caught despite the heavy burden of working overtime. “She looks like a Heather to me. Hey, you want me to take her bracelet up front? I can have her paged.”

  “I can handle it.” Zack, holding the beautiful bracelet up to the light, began to smile. He’d completely forgotten about his cold. His symptoms had magically disappeared. He’d also forgotten about his vacation. Suddenly he had a fine new challenge, and the anticipation gave him a second wind. He actually laughed out loud, then took off in pursuit.

  Unfortunately, the sweet-smelling lady in leather had vanished. He checked each and every aisle, then jogged up to the front where a big-haired girl with white-frosted lips waited in front of a register. Zack had a killer smile. One of his former lady friends had once described it as a nuclear weapon. He used it now for all he was worth. “Hello, there. I know you’re closing now, but I wondered if you could do me a little favor?”

  She didn’t even consider it. “It’s past ten. My register is closed.”

  Zack stared at her, taken aback. Apparently the nuclear weapon had been a dud. This had never happened before. “Look, I need to talk to one of your customers. A young woman wearing a long, black leather coat. Have you seen her?”

  The girl nodded, snapping her gum. “Yeah. She asked me where the rest rooms were.”

  “And you told her…?”

  She opened her eyes wide. “Duh. I told her where they were.”

  Zack stopped being charming and reverted to cop mode. “Look, lady, the sooner you start cooperating, the sooner you can leave. Where are the damned…the rest rooms?”

  Her colorless, Casper the Ghost lips pouted. “Fine. Go to the double swinging doors at the rear of the store. Take your first door to the left and go down the stairs. You’ll see the signs. Hustle, will you? I’ve got a date tonight.”

  Poor guy, Zack thought, sketching her a mocking salute.

  Truth be told, he was surprised at his own determination to track down a woman who clearly wasn’t interested in being tracked down. He simply wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed by an attractive woman. It wasn’t so much that he was an egotist, he’d simply learned long ago to expect and receive special treatment from the ladies. He didn’t know if it was the cop thing or what, but women usually found him kind of appealing. Most women, anyway.

  He did have his pride to consider. He had no intention of following the lovely lady into the women’s rest room. That would look too desperate, not to mention somewhat indecent. Still, there was no law about waiting for her in the vicinity. After all, he was a Good Samaritan trying to do her a favor. His motives were almost selfless.

  Smiling to himself, he followed the cashier’s directions, going to the back offices of the store and through the double doors marked with an Employees Only notice, then opening the stairwell door. It was a heavy fire door, made of dull gray steel and posted with a No Exit sign. Another sign below this read, Authorized Personnel Only. Below that, Shoplifters Will Be Prosecuted to the Full Extent of the Law. Zack decided this was the least friendly store he had ever patronized.

  Other than a single yellow lightbulb swinging from the ceiling, the hallway was in shadows. His face split with a grin, Zack squatted and looked at the sliver of light beneath the door of the women’s rest room. He wasn’t a detective for nothing, no sir. Now all he had to do was hurry up the stairs, station himself by the door of many signs and gallantly return her bracelet. She would have no choice but to introduce herself. He didn’t know why it was so important that he know her name, but it was. His extraordinary intellect, combined with years of detective work, had left him with amazing powers of observation and recall. She had been wearing large, glittering earrings, obviously paste, but still nice. On close inspection her black coat was not leather at all, but a less-expensive imitation. Besides the thin silver chain around her wrist, she’d also worn a chunky men’s digital watch, an inexpensive Timex if he wasn’t mistaken. Most important, she had not been wearing a wedding ring. If he remembered accurately, she’d had a ring on every finger, with the single exception of her ring finger. It was a very important finger.

  He heard the doorknob to the women’s room rattle a bit, and quickly loped up the stairs three at a time. He didn’t want to scare her by waiting in the hallway like some stalker. He’d go back into the well-lit storeroom and…and…

  He tried the fire door a second time, with more force.

  It was locked.

  He winced as he heard her come out into the hallway. He was caught like a rabbit in a snare. This was going to severely affect his dignity. He remained rooted to the spot, hot blood burning his cheeks as he listened to the click, click, click of her heels moving down the hallway.

  “Excuse me?” said a curious voice from the bottom of the stairs. “What are you doing up there?”

  Zack’s forehead thumped loudly against the steel door. “Me? Oh, I’m just being perplexed.”

  “Perplexed? Is there a problem? I know you’re closing soon. I’m sorry if I delayed you.”

  Clearly she had mistaken him for someone who worked there. He wished he did; it would have made his explanation so much easier. He took a deep breath and slowly turned around, grateful the shadows hid the telltale wildfire in his face. “Hello, there. Fancy seeing you here.”

  “You?” she asked, her eyebrows narrowing suspiciously. “What is this? Are you following me or what?”

  “You should have your ego looked at. I think it’s swollen.” Zack had learned long ago to improvise with the best of them. It was one of his survival tools when working undercover. Feigning injured innocence, he pulled her bracelet from his pocket, swinging it from his fingers like a pendulum. “You left this tangled up with one of my buttons when you fell into my arms. I was simply trying to return it to you. Sorry, but no ulterior motives. You’re sort of cute, but you’re a little cocky.”

  Now it was her turn to blush. “Oh. I suppose I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

  “Like a kangaroo.” Biting back a smile, Zack tossed her the bracelet, and she caught it in midair with a neat flick of her wrist. “Nice catch,” he murmured appreciatively. He loved a woman with good hand-eye coordination.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, fastening the bracelet on her wrist. “This bracelet has tremendous sentimental value to me. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost it.”

  “No problem.” Unfortunately, the words reminded Zack there was, in fact, a major problem. Once again he tried to open the door. He tried it again. Finally he slammed his hip against the stubborn metal. “Ouch. That’ll leave a mark. Listen, I hate to tell you this, but it seems we’re locked in.”

  “What?” an alarmed voice directly behind him asked. “Locked in? As in locked in? We can’t get out?”

  Zack jumped, unaware that she had come up the stairs. He looked over his shoulder, feeling the jolt of her stabbing blue eyes a mere twelve inches from his. Even in the shadows, they seemed an intensely brilliant source of light. Her skin was golden, her generous lips stained wetly with a rich cinnamon gloss. This was the sort of woman who could give a sought-after ladies’ man a run for his money…so to speak.

  “We
can’t get out,” Zack confirmed hoarsely, trying not to stare at that full-bloom rosebud mouth. “Not till they come and find us, at any rate.”

  “Are you kidding me? Tell me you’re kidding me.” Then, a full octave higher, “We’re trapped?”

  “Think positively,” Zack encouraged. “We’re not so much trapped as we are very, very secure.”

  “I’m claustrophobic!” she yelped, losing her cool. She pushed past him, jerking on the handle with both hands and nearly knocking Zack off the steps in the process. “I can’t deal with this, I tell you. I have to know I can get out of places I go into. If I feel trapped, sometimes I…sometimes I panic and…”

  “And what?” Zack asked warily, looking at her dilated pupils. “Oh-oh. You don’t look so good. Sometimes you what?”

  “I…do…this,” she muttered weakly. And for the second time in less than ten minutes, she collapsed into Zack’s waiting arms.

  Two

  Anna Smith had never been the kind of person who came unglued easily, and never in public in front of a stranger. She had a little stubborn streak. Which was why, even as the little stairwell in Appleton’s General Store was spinning into nauseating darkness, she was absolutely exasperated with herself. This was so pathetic for a twenty-six-year-old woman.

  Fortunately, she wasn’t completely out of it. She managed to more or less walk on her Gumby legs, supported by two strong arms and a bright, bracing stream of encouragement: “You can do it, here we go, down the stairs…good girl, good girl…”

  He had a nice voice, she thought groggily. And very calm, almost like he was used to dealing with emergencies like this all the time. He dragged her along, finding an unlocked door close to the stairs. He turned on the light, and Anna found herself firmly planted in a hard folding chair.

  “You okay?” he asked sharply, clicking his fingers in front of her fluttering, half-closed eyes. “Hello, there! Yoo-hoo! Coming around? You can open your eyes, we’ve got a nice big room here. No windows, but…we won’t think about that. You’ve got a door you can walk in and out of. Isn’t that nice? We still can’t get out of the basement, but…we won’t think about that, either. If you don’t say something soon, I’m going to use up all the oxygen blabbering.” A pause, then in a more hopeful tone, “I suppose I could try artificial respiration.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Anna muttered, trying to control her weighty lids. “You know perfectly well that I’m breathing. Of all the idiotic things for me to do, fainting like that…”

  Zack watched sympathetically while she tried to bury her swimming head in her knees. He’d been in a similar position himself many times after a rowdy night on the town. “That’s it, take slow, deep breaths. You’ll feel better soon.” Then, with humor, “If it makes you feel better, I have this effect on women all the time. They’re swooning here, there and everywhere.”

  Slowly, her white-knuckled hands clutching the seat of the chair, Anna forced herself to sit up straight. She saw they were in a very large storeroom of sorts, which caused her to breathe a great sigh of relief. As long as she didn’t think about the locked door at the top of the stairs, she should be able to keep the demon claustrophobia at bay. “This is so embarrassing. I suppose I should thank you for catching me.”

  “Not if it’s painful for you,” Zack replied, hearing the reluctance in her voice. “Something tells me you’re one of those women who don’t need assistance too often.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile, her eyes still a bit glazed. “And something tells me you’re used to women who very much appreciate your assistance. I’m doing better now. This chair feels like it’s bobbing on the ocean, but other than that, I’m fine. This kind of thing doesn’t happen all the time, just so you know.”

  “Freaking out was understandable in these circumstances,” Zack replied. “We’re all human, you know. Except Captain Todd, the bane of my existence. He’s another species altogether.”

  She blinked in slow motion, her brows drawn together. “What are you talking about? Who is Captain Todd?”

  Zack grinned, shaking his head. “Never mind. Since you’re lucky enough not to know him, we’ll keep it that way.”

  There was a long silence while Anna absorbed the full effect of his remarkable smile. She was clearheaded enough to translate the potent, wickedly sensual message he was delivering. His heavy-lidded gray eyes went along for the ride, as well, curling up at the edges in captivating little sunbursts. She saw sweetness there, and a silky-smooth masculine appeal that no doubt went over very well with the ladies. His thick hair was dark as midnight, a bit damp and carelessly finger-combed back from his face. He wasn’t exceptionally tall, just under six feet, but he had the build of a lean young athlete. Even his well-worn leather jacket couldn’t disguise the hard stretch of well-defined chest muscles beneath the soft gray T-shirt he wore. Anna found her eyes skipping lower, to the low-riding, stonewashed jeans that were more white than blue. She couldn’t help it; he was standing and she was sitting, and the flat plane of his stomach and hips was directly at eye level. Altogether a dazzling and heady package…and here she was without sunscreen or shades. She couldn’t help but shake her head at the voyeuristic trend of her thinking.

  “Ahem.” Zack cleared his throat, more than a little self-conscious. She was studying him in precisely the same way he usually studied an attractive woman. Not in a rude way, but unusually candid. In his experience, and he had quite a bit of it, women tended to be a little flustered around him. He liked being the one who did the flustering, not the one being flustered. Having the tables turned wasn’t nearly as much fun. “You’re suddenly very quiet. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Anna stood up slowly, telling herself to get a grip. “Excuse me. I was distracted by…never mind what I was distracted by.”

  “If you told me your name,” Zack ventured, “I could scratch our initials in the fire door out there to commemorate our incarceration.”

  She smiled at that. “I’m Anna Smith, occasional fainter. We’re in a little predicament here, I guess.”

  You guess right, Zack thought with gentle humor. Lucky us. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zack Daniels, catcher of fainting women. You make a very stimulating predicament partner, do you know that? And I’m an expert at predicaments and partners, so I speak with authority.”

  Anna decided he was harmless enough, despite his inclination to flirt. And he did provide nice scenery for their predicament. “Well, here’s hoping we won’t be partners for long. No offense, but this place isn’t my idea of a dream vacation. Hey!”

  Alarmed, Zack jumped and looked over his shoulder. “What? Who? Hey what?”

  “I see a telephone!” She made her way through a pile of boxes, lifting up a bright pink telephone from beneath a sheet of clear plastic bubble wrap. “Of course, they would have a phone down here. Why didn’t we think…” Her voice trailed off. She lifted her head, sheepishly meeting Zack’s dancing eyes. “It’s a Barbie phone.”

  Zack nodded, not even trying to hide his grin. This just kept getting better and better. She was a laugh a minute. “The Barbie sticker kind of gives it away, don’t you think?”

  “I can’t believe my luck tonight…or absence thereof.” She dropped the phone back in the box with a heavy sigh. “Oh, my goodness. Why can’t anything be easy? Do you think there might be a phone in one of the other rooms? Maybe there’s another exit somewhere, or maybe a basement window we can crawl out of.”

  “I doubt it. The sign on the fire door said No Exit.” Zack was enjoying himself immensely. She was pure magic to watch, the way her changing emotions were reflected in her vivid eyes, her lips, the light catching the burnished-gold streaks in her hair whenever she moved. Nothing was hidden, nothing was calculated. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met a woman who didn’t try to impress him. They liked his looks, which he guessed was understandable. Not so understandable was their starry-eyed fascination with the potential danger involved
with his work. The possibility of Zack being on the receiving end of severe bodily harm was inexplicably titillating to them. It wasn’t very nice of them, but then again, Zack had never really focused on nice women. “I’m sure they’ll find us sooner or later. Why don’t you relax?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’m not the type who sits around expecting to be rescued. I’m perfectly capable of rescuing myself.”

  “An independent and resourceful woman,” Zack said respectfully, settling himself in the folding chair she had vacated. “How inspiring. I’ll sit here and admire your resourceful character while you rescue us. You may begin.”

  Obviously, he wasn’t taking this situation of theirs very seriously. Ignoring him, Anna proceeded to explore the room at length, rummaging through piles of boxes, cleaning supplies and office equipment…but no telephone. She went to the door twice, giving the darkened hallway a quick look before scuttling back into the room. “You could do something,” she told Zack irritably, annoyed by his complacent attitude and Cheshire Cat smile. “I’m not keen on exploring the other rooms. I feel trapped whenever I look out there. Would it be too much bother for you to separate yourself from that chair and look around?”

  “Well, I suppose I could take a look around,” Zack said after a moment of reflection. He stood up and slowly stretched, his sparkling eyes noting her reaction with amusement. “I do have a little cold and I’m feeling under the weather, but I’ll manage somehow. Still, I hate to leave you in here all alone, you being so delicate and all. Will you be all right without me?”

  Anna placed a hand over her heart with exaggerated sincerity. “I will do my poor best.”

  Zack grinned. “Lady, you’re the most entertaining thing that has happened to me in my entire life. I’ll be right back. Don’t move a muscle.”

  He was gone for several minutes. Anna heard doors opening and closing, boxes being shoved around and occasional sounds of exaggerated discouragement. Then she heard him knocking on the fire door and calling out for someone to help them, all to no avail. When he came back, he had an expression of utter dejection, though his keen gray eyes were still lit with enjoyment. “We are doomed, my pretty new predicament partner. No exits, no windows, no way to call anyone. And there’s not a sound from upstairs. I’m afraid they may have locked things up and left. I can’t tell you how upset I am about this. We have ourselves in a pickle here. Or rather, a pickle jar with a very tight lid.”