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Wild for You

Page 14

by Sophia Knightly


  Feeling energetic, Marisol worked tirelessly all morning. Her schedule was relatively light in the morning, but booked solid in the afternoon. She made good use of the time before her first appointment to check the cleanliness of the kitchen, the changing booths and the bathroom. She reminded the shampoo girl to make sure there were plenty of clean towels and to restock shampoo and conditioner supplies in the morning before the first customers arrived.

  When Marisol checked the cash register, she was shocked to find it empty. She scanned the drawer beneath the register where they kept small change and found nothing. Even when she made bank deposits, she always made sure there was enough change in the cash register for her morning clients. Puzzled, she remembered she had shut off the burglar alarm that morning when she'd entered, and there had been no sign of forced entry. She briefly wondered if she'd been robbed. Marisol felt apprehensive as she dialed Trini's apartment because she had closed shop last night. She was surprised to hear a man answer and say that Trini had just left.

  Marisol postponed her next appointment and dashed to the bank next door. She withdrew one hundred dollars to have change for her patrons and returned to the salon to cut and style her client's hair. She decided to question Trini before calling the police to report the theft.

  Moments later, Trini walked in, sporting a black eye and Marisol suspected it was Ray who answered the phone when she'd called Trini earlier. A few months back, Ray had introduced himself as the owner of a beauty salon in the same area and had made a move on some of the hair stylists. Marisol couldn't see what attraction Ray held for Trini, who had started a relationship with him right away. He was burly with an abrasive personality and bulging eyes that gave him a bulldog appearance. Marisol had been turned off at the outset by his sexual innuendos and sexist remarks.

  Trini had eventually moved in with Ray, hoping he would marry her. She'd once confided in Marisol that he only beat her when he drank a lot. Shortly afterward, he battered Trini so viciously that she landed in the hospital emergency room. Marisol hadn't been able to convince Trini to press charges against Ray, but she succeeded in getting her to leave him and temporarily move in with her.

  "We need to talk," Marisol said to Trini. "Let's go to the supply room."

  "What's wrong?" Trini asked, looking anxious.

  When they reached the supply room, out of everyone's earshot, Marisol said, "What happened to your eye?"

  "I tripped last night and bumped my face against the dresser."

  Yeah, right. "The last time you had a black eye was when Ray beat you up. I called you this morning and it sounded like Ray answered. Are you seeing him again?"

  Trini shuddered and made the sign of the cross. "No way. I have a new boyfriend now."

  "I hope you're telling me the truth. Especially after Ray's last beating!" Marisol took a deep breath and tried to calm down. There was no sense in getting mad at Trini over her personal choices.

  "I am telling you the truth," Trini insisted, offended.

  "There's cash missing from the register. It was empty when I came in this morning. Did you take it home with you to make a deposit?"

  "Yes. But I only deposited the checks this morning before coming in." Trini looked panic-stricken. "I'm sorry, Marisol. I had to borrow the money because I needed groceries. You can take the hundred dollars out of my next paycheck."

  "Trini, if you needed money, you should have told me! If you don't get your act together there won't be another paycheck."

  "I'll get it together, I promise," Trini said, her voice filled with dread at the possibility of losing her job.

  "I can't believe you'd do something like that. How am I going to trust you now?"

  "Please give me another chance," Trini pleaded. "It won't happen again."

  "See that it doesn't or I will have to let you go."

  "Thanks for the second chance," Trini said, relieved.

  "There's something else I wanted to ask you. Why did you mention I'd be at Mack's Saturday night in front of Gabe? I told you I didn't want to see him."

  Trini's face reddened. "It slipped out. I didn't do it on purpose. I'm so embarrassed. I've really screwed things up."

  Witnessing her anguish, Marisol sighed deeply. "Listen, it wouldn't be so important if I wasn't dealing with a stalker. We all have to be extra careful."

  "You're right." Trini looked scared when she asked, "Are you going to fire me?"

  She would have to be heartless to fire Trini, looking the way she did with her puffy, bruised eye. "No, but don't ever help yourself to the register again. Now go and do Anne's manicure. She wants a full set of tips. That should bring in at least sixty dollars. I'll start deducting what you owe me from that."

  "Thanks, Marisol. I appreciate it." Trini put on her sunglasses and sat down at her station.

  The only highlight of the afternoon was the return of Marisol's good friend who also worked at Villabella, Vivian Ramos.

  "Vivi, you look great!" Marisol exclaimed. "How was your honeymoon? You're positively glowing."

  "It was amazing," she said with a dreamy smile. "You're looking pretty good yourself. What have you been up to?"

  "Lots of things. But first tell me about you. How was Aruba?"

  "Awesome." Vivi flashed a grin. "So was Omar."

  "I'll bet," Marisol said, chuckling. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you! Why did you come in a day earlier than expected?"

  "Because of you!" Vivi exclaimed.

  "Me? Why?"

  "You know I'm a bit psychic. I got this weird feeling on the flight back that you were in danger. I tried calling you and only got your recording. Then I drove to your apartment, but you weren't there, so I decided to come in early and check on you."

  "I'm sorry I worried you. You're a good friend."

  "Is that anonymous guy still bothering you?" Vivi asked.

  "Unfortunately, yes." Marisol moved closer to her and dropped her voice, "I think Gabe might be the stalker."

  "Gabe?" Vivi repeated under her breath. "I've suspected him all along."

  "Marisol, there's a call for you," Laila shouted. "It's the landlord."

  Marisol spoke to him briefly and returned to Vivi's side with a satisfied smile.

  "What did he want?" Vivi asked.

  "Good news. Ivan said I could renew the lease and that he's not going to raise my rent as high as he said last week."

  "You can thank me for that," Trini said, walking in.

  Marisol turned to stare at Trini. "Why? What did you do?"

  "I told him that you hired a lawyer and were thinking about suing him," Trini said.

  She was totally clueless, Marisol thought, staring at Trini. "You shouldn't have done that, Trini! I was going to get Clay to use his legal knowledge to help me, but I haven't gotten around to discussing the lease since we got married," Marisol admitted.

  "What?" Vivi interrupted, throwing her hands in the air. "When did you get married? And who's Clay?"

  "It's a long story. I'll tell you about Clay later," Marisol whispered. "About Gabe—"

  "Forget Gabe," Vivi cut in. "Tell me about Clay. When did you meet him? What does he do?"

  Marisol noticed Trini's ear cocked eagerly. "This isn't a good time. I'll fill you in when we have more time," she said, ignoring Trini's disappointed groan.

  "You better! Now, put me to work," Vivi said.

  "You mean you're staying?" Marisol asked hopefully.

  "I've been lying on this round behind all week at the beach. It'll do me good to stand and work."

  "Great. I could use a break this afternoon to run errands. I'll call my customers and tell them you're back from your honeymoon. I'm sure they won't mind switching their appointments to you."

  "Call them now," Vivi urged. "If you want to take the rest of the day off, I'll close shop for you and make the deposit."

  "Thanks, you're a lifesaver." Before leaving, she filled Vivi in on her problems with Trini and warned her to keep an eye on her. After calling Clay to
tell him she'd meet him at home, Marisol left, feeling like a load had been taken off her shoulders. With Vivi in charge, the salon always ran smoothly. She was well-liked by all and Marisol was glad to give hard-working Zara a break from having to cover for her.

  * * *

  Clay drove home from work, his jaw clenched in disgust as he remembered Gabe's reaction when he'd released him that afternoon due to insufficient evidence. None of the latent fingerprints Clay had lifted from Marisol's apartment had matched Gabe's. The AFIS report hadn't confirmed anything either. Gabe had no previous record of arrests, and his statement that he'd arrived in Miami the previous week was corroborated by Mexicana Airlines.

  The only conclusive information that had come in today was that the red satin handcuffs and the Barbie dress had been custom- made by an expert tailor.

  Clay gripped the steering wheel, remembering when he'd warned Gabe not to go near Marisol again. He'd had to restrain himself from hitting him when Gabe had sarcastically replied that Marisol wasn't worth the effort.

  Clay's compulsion to stop the stalker went beyond his loyalty to Marcos. In his mind's eye, he kept seeing Marisol's desolate expression as she'd stood in the bedroom doorway last night. Guilt gnawed at him that he couldn't share her dreams of having a family, but he wouldn't give her false hopes.

  Marisol had said she'd never worry about having a mentally handicapped child, but Clay knew it was human nature to worry about such things. He didn't want to see anxiety in her eyes and wonder if she dreaded the outcome.

  Chapter 10

  When he arrived at the condo, Clay unlocked the door and flung it open. "Good thing you're still here," he said, pulling Marisol into his arms and holding her against his chest as he smoothed her hair away from her forehead and kissed the top of her head.

  She stepped back from his tight embrace. "Where else would I be? Has something happened that I don't know about?"

  Clay shook his head. "Ever since you went on that little excursion to the beach, I've worried about leaving you alone, even for a short while."

  Marisol sank down on the sofa. "Gee, it's nice to know you trust me. I told you I wouldn't do it again. Please don't bring it up anymore."

  "Fair enough," Clay said, his lips twitching."How was your day?"

  Marisol shrugged. "Good and bad. The good part is that Vivi returned from her honeymoon."

  Clay joined her on the sofa. "Who's Vivi?"

  "My closest friend. She came in a day earlier because she couldn't reach me and was worried something had happened."

  "Sounds like a good friend."

  "She is. I left Vivi in charge of the salon and came home early. When she's there I know things will run smoothly. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about Trini."

  "Why not?"

  "Trini did the dumbest thing over the weekend while I was away. She borrowed all the cash from the register without asking my permission."

  Clay's brows drew together, forming a stern line. "Borrowed is a pretty mild word for stealing," he observed caustically.

  "I don't think she was stealing. Sometimes Trini doesn't use her head."

  "Then why is she still working for you?"

  "She's an excellent nail technician and she's beautiful and exotic-looking. But in spite of all that, she has low self-esteem and her personal finances are a mess."

  "She doesn't sound like an ideal employee to me."

  "Trini has other qualities that make her ideal. She's a perfectionist at her manicures and she puts in long hours at work."

  Clay's disgruntled expression showed he wasn't convinced.

  "The beauty business is very different from law enforcement, Blackthorne. I look for different qualities when I hire people. I think anyone who has the right look and attitude, along with the job expertise, deserves a chance to prove herself—especially if she's a hard worker."

  "That's democratic of you, but not very practical. I'm going to conduct a background check on your employees. I'll need their names and social security numbers."

  "Is that necessary? They're not only employees, they're my friends. What Trini did was foolish, but I don't think that warrants an investigation."

  "I know what I'm doing."

  "Then you better be aware that Trini has a previous record for shoplifting."

  Clay's brows knitted over disapproving eyes. "You hired Trini knowing that she's dishonest?"

  "She's not dishonest; she's had it rough. Her mom was a single parent who was a stripper and God knows what else at a high end burlesque bar. Trini was sixteen when she was caught shoplifting. She told me she had only done it to get a decent outfit so she could apply for a job after school. She also said she's never done anything illegal since. And I believe her."

  Clay crossed his arms and stared at her in disbelief.

  "Don't look at me that way. I believe in giving people a second chance. Trini was honest enough to tell me about her past shortly after I hired her. If she hadn't, I probably would have never found out."

  "That doesn't change the fact that she stole from you."

  "Haven't you been listening? She borrowed it to buy groceries. I've already deducted the amount from her paycheck." Marisol sighed. "I think she's gotten back together with her old boyfriend, Ray. He's such a louse."

  "Why?"

  "Ray is abusive with her, emotionally and physically. One of his beatings landed her in the ER. I convinced her to move in with me temporarily so she could hide from him while she healed. Before she moved out, I got Trini to threaten Ray with a restraining order if he didn't leave her alone."

  "Did he back off?"

  "Yes. He had just moved to Miami and I'm sure he wanted to avoid problems with the police," she said.

  Clay grimaced. "Only cowards beat up on women. I've seen a good share of them. What does Ray do for a living?"

  "He owns a beauty salon near mine. When he first came in, I thought he was checking out the competition, but he was checking out the girls."

  "Add his full name to the list of your employees so I can check him out too."

  "You'll have to wait until tomorrow. That information is at the salon."

  "Don't forget. I want it ASAP."

  Marisol looked heavenward and sighed out loud. "You're a real slave driver, Blackthorne."

  * * *

  The following day, Marisol couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. From the moment she arrived at work, she felt like she needed to be constantly looking over her shoulder. She hadn't realized how much Laila's brush with death had affected her until she returned to work, away from Clay's constant vigilance.

  At lunchtime, Marisol decided to drive to a nearby deli for lunch. As she approached her car, she noticed that the tire on the driver's side was slashed and the window on the same side was shattered. She looked inside her car and saw a large white rock with "WHORE" spray painted in red letters on the tiny fragments of glass covering the driver's seat. Burning with helpless fury, she glanced around her to see if anyone had witnessed the vandalism.

  A heavy gray haired woman approached Marisol with a horrified expression on her florid face. "Is that what the crashing noise was? Who did this?" she asked, panting between words.

  "I don't know. Did you see anything?" Marisol asked.

  "No, dear. I wish I could help you. Be careful."

  When the woman left, Marisol slumped against the side of her car. Tremors quaked through her as she began to sob. She wasn't aware of how long she stood there until she felt strong arms surround her and she smelled Clay's masculine scent envelop her.

  "Baby, what the hell happened here? Are you hurt?" Clay asked, his deep voice anxious.

  Marisol fought to regain her composure. "Clay!" She peered at him through wet lashes. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

  "I stopped by to have lunch with you. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw you leaning against the car with your face in your hands. You almost took twenty years off my life."

  She gestu
red wildly. "Look at what he did to my car!"

  "When did this happen?"

  "I don't know. I hate falling apart like this, but today I'm really spooked."

  "You're only human, baby," he said, stroking her damp cheek.

  Marisol peered inside her car again. "I have to call a mechanic. There's no way I'll be able to get all this glass out!"

  "I'll take care of it. Go inside the salon and I'll meet you there with lunch once I've questioned a few people and filled out a report."

  Clay returned an hour later and joined Marisol in the kitchen, where she sat talking with Vivi.

  "Vivi, this is my husband, Clay."

  Clay nodded and shook Vivi's hand. "Nice to meet you, Vivi. I hope you don't mind that I need to speak privately with Marisol."

  "Not at all," Vivi said with a friendly smile. "I'll catch you later, Marisol."

  Clay settled into a chair beside her. "You okay?"

  "I'm still shaken up. I've had a weird feeling since this morning. Like I'm being followed and something terrible is about to happen."

  "You need twenty-four hour protection and I can't provide that if I want to keep my job. I have other cases I'm working on. I'll look into assigning an additional bodyguard for the times when I can't watch over you."

  "I can't work with someone hovering over me," Marisol fretted.

  When Clay remained silent, she knew he'd assign someone to tail her anyway.

  * * *

  The next morning, Clay and Marisol left for work early. He had a backlog of information to review and she had morning appointments. Everything at the salon started out fine until Vivi came to her with a worried expression.

  "Can we talk privately in the supply room?" Vivi asked.

  "Of course. What's wrong?" Marisol asked when they entered the room.

  "Look." Vivi pointed to an empty shelf. "I think Trini has been stealing more things," she said, her keen eyes scanning the shelves. "Two curling irons, five styling brushes, and at least three perm kits are missing."

  "When did you notice they were gone?"

 

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