Running from Fate

by Connelly, Rose

  “Definitely weird stuff, but that doesn’t actually sound like stalking. I mean she could have a friend in your neighborhood.”

  Considering how snooty Kim was that didn’t seem likely, but she let it go. “There are also the threats,” she reminded Amy. “I’ve received two of them so far. I have to tell you though that I don’t understand it. The woman is not exactly ugly and I’m sure there are plenty of idiot men desperate to have her. Why would losing James upset her so much?”

  “I believe I can shed some light on that if you’d care to take a seat.” Amy picked up her soda and headed for a faded denim sofa that had just been vacated. Mira grabbed her coffee and followed.

  When they were both seated Amy propped her feet on the slightly scarred, wooden coffee table and leaned back. “From what I’ve been able to gather the problems started a while ago. You see, poor Kimberly Roberts has no real talent and, it seems, no aspirations, but she’s been able to live quite comfortably off dear daddy’s money. Now,” she paused. “A few weeks before she started dating our gorgeous boss her father decided that she either had to make some type of contribution to the business or he was going to cut her off.”

  “Wait a second,” Mira cut in. “How do you know all this?”

  “The great and powerful Amy sees all,” she said in a deep, mysterious voice.

  Mira glared at her.

  “All right,” Amy continued in a more normal tone. “I have a cousin who works as a DJ and an occasional bartender at one of her favorite clubs. He said the screeching that ensued when her father blocked her credit cards could be heard as far away as Canada.”

  “How does any of this have to do with James or why she might be harassing me?”

  “I’m getting to that.” She picked up her soda and took a long swig before tossing the now empty can in a nearby recycling bin. “Everyone around here knows that Mr. Roberts would love to form some kind of partnership between EcoSpace and his own company. He’s been trying to talk James into it for a while. Now this is just my theory, but I think that Mr. Roberts saw Kim as a possible way to get a foot in the door.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust your opinions,” Mira said. She finished her own drink and sat the empty Styrofoam cup on the table. “But why do you think that?”

  “Well, after the two of them started dating, Kim’s credit cards were active again and, my cousin says, she went back to spending a lot of money on drinking and partying. I can guarantee that her daddy was not happy when things broke off with James. That, my friend gives her a motive.”

  “That explains a lot, but I don’t think that I have anything to worry about. I can’t see Kim having either the brains or the guts to cause a real problem.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Amy crossed her feet and looked at Mira. “So,” she said with an irreverent smirk. “Are you going to tell James that his ex-girlfriend is threatening you?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me someone was threatening you?”

  Mira jumped in surprise and banged her knees on the coffee table. “Damn it,” she muttered, as she turned her head to watch James walk into the room. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she told him, “and it’s not polite to listen to other people conversations.”

  “Hello boss,” Amy said cheerfully.

  “Amy.” James nodded at her and came to a halt next to Mira, matching her glare with one of his own. “Tell me what’s going on,” he demanded. The thought that someone might actually be trying to hurt her scared the hell out of him.

  She crossed her arms and didn’t answer.

  He leaned forward a little, trying to intimidate her.

  “It’s not your problem.” Mira shifted uncomfortably and tried to get up, but he held her in place with a hand on her shoulder. “I think you should let me go,” she said. “If you haven’t noticed the morning break is over and it’s time I got back to the work you pay me for.”

  James ignored her protest. “How can you say it’s not my problem?” he growled. “We’re a …”

  “We’re a what?” Mira asked sweetly. “As you made very clear yesterday, there’s nothing between us anymore.” Amy fidgeted next to her and threw her an apologetic look before jumping up and heading for the door. “I’ll see you back at work,” she called. The door shut behind her, leaving the break room empty except the two of them.

  “Mira,” James cautioned. He pushed the coffee table away with his foot and stood in front of her. When she still refused to look at him, he leaned forward and put his hands on the back of the sofa, effectively caging her. “Tell me.”

  She cautiously looked up. His face was so close that she could see the rings around his irises. She stared into those dark eyes and froze. They burned with a bright blue flame. It wasn’t the blaze of passion or the heat of anger, but something much more primitive. She felt hunted. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to leave until she told him something. “Alright,” she finally conceded. “I got a couple of threatening notes.”

  “When did this happen?” He straightened up and flopped onto the sofa next to her as he felt his legs weaken. They had dated. He had been in her house many times. How is it that he hadn’t known?

  “It was right after we started going out and I didn’t tell you,” she said, correctly interpreting his frown, “because until now it was just one silly note and a verbal threat and I’m pretty sure your ex-girlfriend is behind all of it.”

  “First of all, why would you think that?” James asked with a little less heat. When she opened her mouth to answer, he held up a hand. “I’m not saying that I don’t think she has it in her to be vindictive,” he elaborated as he lifted his arm and casually draped it over the back of the sofa. “But I know that our relationship wasn’t exclusive and I seriously doubt that she had the capacity to care about anything but my money. What kind of motive would she have? It seems more likely that it was someone from your old job. You stepped on a lot of toes.” He scooted closer and curved his arm, beginning to enjoy the feeling of closeness. He had missed it.

  “While I agree with your assessment, I happen to know that she has reasons to resent me.” She pulled his arm away and huddled against the sofa’s arm, putting as much space between them as possible. “Besides, I’m not the kind of person to jump to conclusions without examining the facts first. Kim personally threatened me on the night of that party that you dragged me to and both of the letters that I received specifically mentioned your name. In addition,” she held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I’ve seen her driving past my house on a regular basis when she has no reason to be there.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbled noncommittally. “Did you receive anything else besides a couple of letters?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “The last letter came with a dead mouse. It was a little disgusting, but not exactly scary.” With a little sigh, she leaned back and hugged herself. “There was one other thing. I don’t know if it’s related, but I think that I heard someone following me yesterday when I came out of work.”

  “That’s it!” James stood up and crossed to the door. It was time to do something about this.

  “Where are you going?” Mira asked. She was a little disappointed that he was just leaving after what she had told him.

  “I’ll talk to you later. I have a call to make.” With anger riding him, James stalked from the room and headed toward his office. When the door was safely closed behind him, he sat at his desk and picked up the phone. It had been a while since he had talked to his friend Devon, but he still remembered the number. With barely controlled impatience, he pushed the correct buttons and waited for someone to answer on the other end. After five rings, it was picked up.

  “Raleigh Police Department. You’ve reached Detective Devon Moore,” was the muffled response.

  “Spit that damn pastry out or swallow it already! Didn’t you’re mother teach you better than to talk with your mouth full?” Unlike some cops who spent as many hours at a desk as they did on the stre
et, Detective Moore had never developed a belly. He kept his muscular physique through regular trips to the gym and weekends spent hiking and rafting. He did, however, have a penchant for chocolate éclairs, which the besotted women at the department brought him on a regular basis.

  The sound of chewing, followed by swallowing came over the line before the detective came back on. “If it isn’t James Kelly,” he said. “Long time, no see. What have you been up to?”

  “Listen,” James interrupted. “I didn’t call to catch up. I need to talk to you about a problem.”

  “Something that requires the police?” he asked. All traces of emotion disappeared from his voice as he switched to professional mode. “Look James if you’re in some kind of trouble, you need to call a lawyer not the police.”

  “I haven’t done anything recently that I need a lawyer for.” He leaned back against his chair and tried to relax his tense shoulders. “I have a friend who I think might be in trouble.”

  “I assume from your tone that you’re talking about a female friend. I know you broke up with that blond viper, so is it the new girlfriend who has an issue? What is it, a nasty ex-boyfriend?”

  “Not exactly,” he replied, not bothering to correct the girlfriend assumption. “Someone sent her a few threatening notes, one of them came with a dead mouse. Plus, she thinks she’s been followed.”

  “Why hasn’t she reported these incidents to the police?” Devon asked curiously. “This could be serious.”

  “Apparently she doesn’t think so. Mira believes that it’s something she can handle by herself.” He paused briefly before continuing. “She thinks the culprit is Kim.” Nothing came over the line but a strange choked sound. “For God’s sake!” James shouted over the phone. “Stop laughing. I don’t see anything funny about the situation.”

  “Oh man,” Devon wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. “This is priceless. I always said that Kim was an ice queen, but I guess she had some feelings after all. What happened?” He snorted. “Was she so devastated by the loss of your manly self that she’s lost the few wits she had.” The thought obviously amused him greatly because he went off in another round of hilarity.

  When the sound of laughter had ceased, James put the receiver back against his ear. “If you could behave like an adult long enough to do your job,” he said with sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I would appreciate it.”

  “Sure, sure,” Devon replied in a weakened voice. “I’ll come in sometime this afternoon and ask your girlfriend some questions. I’m warning you now, though, that if she doesn’t want police help, there’s not much I can do.”

  “Look, just ask your questions and I’ll handle Mira.”

  Chapter 25

  The door to James’ office opened and Detective Moore strolled out.

  Mira followed him and tried to ignore James as he straightened away from the wall. It was apparent from the mussed state of his hair, his unbuttoned jacket, and the look in his eyes that he had not waited patiently. That was just fine with her. After the way that he had interfered when she had specifically told him not to, she wasn’t too happy with him either. It was not, however, the detective’s fault so she wouldn’t take it out on him. After all, he was only doing his job.

  “Detective Moore,” she said as she shook his hand. “I appreciate your diligence in coming in to talk to me.” She turned her head slightly and shot a veiled glare at James. “Despite the fact that I didn’t contact you. I’m quite sure that as soon as Ms. Roberts realizes James and I are no longer seeing each other the problems should stop. However, it was still nice to meet you. Now, if you gentlemen don’t mind, I have work to do.” She sniffed loudly, brushed past James and strolled down the hall.

  “That is one beautiful woman,” Devon said as he turned his head to watch Mira walk away. “What do you think my chances are now that you two aren’t dating?”

  “If you even think about it,” James growled, “I’ll put my fist through your face.”

  “As if you can take me.” Devon punched him good-naturedly and glanced down at his watch. “It’s close to quitting time,” he continued. “Why don’t we go grab a beer? I’ll pay for the first round.”

  “Why not? I could do with a drink. But you’re buying the first two rounds. I’ll spring for something to eat as long as you don’t mind eating bar food.” James told Mary to go home and followed his friend out the door.

  They went to Flannigan’s, a slightly worn out Irish pub that was known for its fish and chips and its large selection of beers. James sat down at the scarred bar and ordered a bottle of Guinness. He would rather have it on tap, but that hadn’t happened since his last trip overseas. This at least was better than nothing. While he was at it he ordered two baskets of fish and chips. Devon still packed food away like a teenager and if food was put in front of him he might be convinced to keep his mouth shut. His friend was a good person and a great man to have at your back if you were in a fight, but he had grown up with six sisters so he saw nothing wrong with prying into his friends lives.

  “So,” Devon said immediately as he slid onto a stool and ordered a pint of Killian’s. “What’s going on with you and the gorgeous Mira?”

  “What makes you think something’s going on?” James asked.

  “Come on man. We’ve known each other for years and I’ve never seen you act that way around a woman.” He paused to take a healthy swallow of beer. “First you call me, panicked, because you think she’s in danger and then you proceed to hover over her so much when I attempt to question her that I have to kick you out of the room. I also noticed,” he mumbled around a mouthful of peanuts, “that she didn’t seem very happy with you.”

  James snorted. “If Mira could have managed it, I’m sure I would have been a pile of smoking ashes at her feet. I don’t think I’ve ever met another woman, besides my mum, who had that kind of temper.”

  “How can you say that,” Devon snorted. “I know you’ve met my sisters.” He turned his head. “Where’s the food,” he called to the bartender. “I’m starving over here. And,” he added. “While you’re at it, we could both do with another round.”

  “Hold yer horses lad,” the burly, graying bartender called. “Perfection takes time and there are nae better chips to be had on this side o’ the pond than can be had at Flannigan’s.”

  “What are you doing Neely, growing the potatoes yourself?” Devon called back. When an overflowing plate was slammed down in front of him, he grinned at the bartender and turned back to James. “Of course,” he said, continuing their earlier conversation. “My sisters are always on their best behavior around you.” He grinned. “Fran says you’re hot.”

  “For God’s sake. She’s only 15.”

  “Tell me you weren’t just as bad at that age.”

  “Good point.” James thought of his room when he was that age and the magazines that he had kept under his mattress. He sat down his empty mug and mentally tried to reconcile his memories of the pigtailed, fresh faced girl with the person his friend seemed to be talking about but he couldn’t. “She’s still you’re baby sister.”

  “I’m just saying.” Devon shrugged and finished his second beer. “Now how about discussing something a little more interesting?” He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. “Like a beautiful green eyed goddess with miles of leg.”

  “Just keep your eyes off her legs,” James snarled.

  “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Devon picked up a vinegar soaked chip and chewed enthusiastically. “If I had made that comment about any of your other girlfriends,” he mumbled, “you would have either brushed it off or told me that I was welcome to her.”

  “No woman would want you when you continue to eat like a pig,” James joked before digging into his own food.

  “I haven’t had any problems in that area so, apparently, the ladies don’t mind, but we’re not talking about me. Tell me, how did you end up so involved with a woman that you’ve known for suc
h a short time? And one who seems far from impressed by your famous charm.”

  “It’s a little complicated.” James sighed and pushed away his half-empty plate. He wasn’t the kind of person who shared his problems. Generally, he preferred to fix things himself. The situation with Mira, however, was exceptionally frustrating. It might not be such a bad idea to get another opinion. “Look,” he finally said. “Normally, I would tell you to mind your own bloody business, but I could use some advice.”

  “No problem.” Devon popped the last chip in his mouth and sat up straight, assuming a serious expression.

  “Alright,” James said. “I didn’t just meet Mira. In fact, I’ve known her since she was wearing pigtails. Actually, she was the first person to really befriend me when I came from Ireland with my parents. I was a little punk,” he smiled in remembrance, “with a chip the size of a boulder on my narrow shoulders. It’s amazing that she put up with me.”

  “It sounds like she was a sweet kid and a good friend to you. I didn’t spend a lot of time with her today, but she seemed like a decent person, despite the fact that she was exceedingly stubborn.”

  “That hasn’t changed. Once Mira Sweeney had made up her mind, dynamite wouldn’t shift her.”

  “You seem quite impressed with that.”

  “I am. I haven’t known many women who didn’t immediately change their opinions if they thought it would benefit them.”

  “Obviously, you aren’t meeting the right kind of people. What’s the problem then?” Devon asked. “Don’t try to tell me that you still see her as a child. I saw the way that you looked at her.”

  “That’s not an issue.” His blood heated as his mind flashed back to the night she had cooked for him. “The problem,” James said. “Is that she didn’t tell me who she was when I met her again.”