Killer Romances

by Dana Delamar, Talullah Grace, Sandy Loyd, Kristine Mason, Dale Mayer, Nina Pierce Chantel Rhondeau, K. T. Roberts, H. D. Thomson, Susan Vaughan

  “I bet we’ll learn plenty just by having the benefit of surprise.” Jack’s rich voice drew her gaze. When Lucy met his stare, he winked. “I distinctly remember you mentioning something about Cassie using the same tactic with Frank.” His attention went back to the road as hers went back to the passing scenery.

  As greens, grays, and browns whizzed by, Lucy said, “Yeah. You’re right. I only hope we’re not chasing our tails.”

  “Look on the bright side.” Jack clasped her knee and squeezed. “We have her picture, which tells us what she looks like. We’ll find her and surprise her. In fact, I just thought of something. We’ll do reconnaissance. Pretend like we’re a couple shopping and walk through the store to see what’s what.” He looked quite pleased with his decision. “We might get lucky and see some of the others at the mall too. I copied all eight pictures into my cell phone with names, just in case.”

  “Good thinking.” She nodded and cleared her throat, tucking more hair behind her ear.

  He took his hand off her knee to reach into his pocket and pull out his smartphone after stopping at a light. Immediately cold air replaced warmth where his fingers had touched, leaving her suddenly bereft and needy.

  “If we spot Marci or any of the others, we figure out some way to get them to talk to us.” He tapped the screen a few times, then angled it so she could see the pictures he’d downloaded. He had beautiful hands, she realized, staring first at his fingers that held the phone. She shifted her gaze to the hand resting on the steering wheel, as he added, “See what happens. Maybe that’ll lead us to something more concrete. If they’re friends.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Lucy inhaled a deep breath of air—air that contained his spicy male scent—a scent she desperately tried to ignore by leaning into the seat. At the same time, she had to force her eyes away from those hands.

  Jack stuck the phone in the center console when the light changed. As his concentration returned to driving, he said, “So, tell me more about you and Cassie.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy noted his relaxed right hand now resting nonchalantly on the gearshift. She sighed. “What would you like to know?” How did he seem so unaffected when everything inside her tingled merely from a grip on the knee?

  “Anything you want to share.”

  “Hmm.” Thankfully, she sounded steadier than she felt. “I already told you how we met.” Was this some latent hero worship or wanting what she couldn’t have? “Cassie is the type of friend who never minds when I drag her to garage sales in three different counties on Saturday mornings, searching for funky bargains for my house. It was something we might’ve been doing today, if she wasn’t missing.” Lucy tried to keep her tone light, even though the realization only made her feel worse.

  “Garage sales?”

  “Yeah, you know, where people put all their junk out and others like me pay money for it?”

  “Sounds like fun.” His voice lacked conviction.

  Heck, they were worlds apart. Lucy would bet a week’s pay that Jack had never been to a garage sale in his life. Not when he could pay full price for anything he wanted. Talk about a contrast between haves and have-nots. She was at one end of the spectrum and he was at the other.

  The mall came into view and Jack braked to slow for the turn. “Have you ever shopped at Justine’s?”

  “No. Never heard of it. Maybe it’s a teen store,” she said, not owning up to the real reason. Shopping at the mall had never been on her to-do list. She relied mostly on Target for staples like underwear, jeans, and sweats, along with the occasional sweater or tank top. If she needed something dressy, the consignment shop Cassie had turned her on to worked.

  “Must be,” Jack said, nodding. “But I wouldn’t know now. I usually avoid the mall. Spent too much time there in high school, working like a slave for minimum wage. Definitely not my idea of a good time.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” Lucy would rather have a root canal than visit the mall to shop, figured it had to do with a lack of that particular feminine gene, or something.

  When oncoming traffic cleared, he gunned the engine, then made the left turn. Thirty seconds later he eased into a parking spot, switched off the ignition, then glanced at her. “Let’s go do this.”

  Both shoved out of the car together. Jack hit the keyless entry and the horn beeped once, before he stalked off at a good clip in the direction of the entrance.

  Lucy sprinted to catch up with him. “What’s your hurry?” He stood at least half a foot taller than her five-foot-seven-inch frame, so he had a longer stride. “We still have ten minutes before Marci’s meeting her friends.”

  Jack slowed to a stop at the double glass doors, and a determined expression crossed his features. “I just want to get this done.”

  Lucy nodded, now finally able to breathe without huffing. When he opened the door for her, she threw him a stealthy glance and stepped inside. As she walked next to Jack toward the center of the mall, it was hard not to savor the satisfied sensation she got after catching a few feminine double takes. Before heading to the Banks’ house, he’d changed out of his sweats and T-shirt. He now wore a collared sports shirt and jeans. Navy was definitely his color. No one could miss the way the dark color highlighted his blond, athletic good looks and blue eyes. Faded and worn denim was his fabric too, she decided, enjoying the way the jeans hugged his butt and showed off his well-developed quads. He looked like a surfer dude fresh off the California coast, except he had the brains and the drive most of those players lacked.

  Now at the information sign, Jack spent a moment studying it before pointing. “Justine’s should be up on the left.”

  Lucy nodded and became his shadow once again. She’d never acknowledged it before, but Jack Finnegan was, and always had been, more than a pretty face.

  “Marci’s not here yet,” she commented, looking around after entering the elegant double glass doors. “Are you sure she’s meeting here? I mean, this is a pretty swanky store.” Doubts about the decision to come here in the first place flitted through her mind. This was just a waste of precious time, time she was afraid was rapidly running out.

  “This is the place. I’m sure of it.” Jack blew out a soft whistle. “Daddy Banks must be loaded and Lizzie must’ve gotten a decent settlement in the divorce.”

  “Of course she did,” Lucy murmured. Lizzie Kincaid was a shark. “Even if Marci’s parents have deep pockets, this store isn’t exactly what I’d call a teen hangout, so why would she shop here?” The question reinforced the idea that they were chasing their tails. Hell, the place reeked of money, considering the marble floors and dark wood paneling. Definitely out of her price range. She wasn’t familiar enough with the stuff designers peddled and had no idea an outlying area like Oakmont could support such extravagance. She’d never seen anything this glitzy in Target. “Not a very happening place.” Teen or otherwise, she added mentally. In fact, she and Jack were the only customers, but a trio of salespeople lurked, each in a different part of the store, and all three stopped and turned in their direction.

  “Must be a lull.” Jack headed for a display of clothes. “Let’s shop while we wait.”

  “I have a better idea. Let’s go. She’s not coming here. We could’ve been halfway to the Holloways’ by now.”

  Jack glanced at his watch. “We’re early. Give it a chance and get into the role.”

  “Role?”

  “Pretend you’re shopping for clothes.” His gaze swept the area. “Otherwise you’ll stand out.”

  Great. Now Lucy had to pretend to do something she hated when she had better things to do. Like find her friend. She looked around. Every saleswoman was looking their way, but not one paid her any heed, instead were giving Jack deliberate once-overs. Lucy suddenly understood what a wildebeest must feel like when lions are in sight. Fresh prey.

  Oblivious to the predators, he nodded to a full rounder of clothes. “Come on, Lucy. Shop.” Jack started flipping through the dresses
. “Look, stuff’s on sale.” He took out several items and laid them over his arm.

  “So, what are you?” Lucy asked, following his lead and sifting through some skirts with matching blouses without really looking at them. “Shopper of the year?” How Jack could be so clueless about his instant fan club, she had no idea. But even more interesting was his shopping acumen. It seemed he was doing more than just getting into the role. Judging from the way he went at it, it was hard to believe his claim about hating to shop.

  Lucy didn’t possess his acting skills. “These are on sale?” After checking the tag on a blouse, she almost choked. “You wouldn’t know it by the prices.” She never understood why women had to have so many clothes in the first place. Clothes served a purpose and she preferred comfort over style.

  “Those aren’t part of the sale.” Without taking his eyes off his task, Jack smiled, an indulgent one a parent might use to explain something important to a child. “Those racks don’t have sale signs.”

  Lucy shrugged, wishing Marci would hurry up and get here. “Guess I don’t shop much.” A complete understatement. She certainly didn’t possess any yen to spend her hard-earned money on overpriced bits of flimsy fabric that wouldn’t hold up during a decent stakeout.

  “Here, try these on.” Jack handed her a pile of clothes. “Take lots of time while you’re at it. That way you’ll be in a perfect position to overhear something useful before we talk to her.” When she tilted her head in confusion, he added, “Reconnaissance, remember? I’m guessing Marci and her friends are shoppers. I learned during my stint at Milo’s,” he said, mentioning the Cardello family department store, “that shopping females can’t resist trying clothes on and always visit dressing rooms. And while there, they always gab, oblivious to anyone around them. It’s amazing the kind of shit you hear in there.”

  “Really?” Maybe they would learn something useful. Jack seemed to think it was worth a shot, so why not play this his way? But Marci wasn’t here yet. Stalling, Lucy walked over to a mirror, saying over her shoulder, “I thought you hated the mall and shopping.”

  “I do.” Jack moved to the next rounder as her attention fixed on the mirror in front of her.

  “Wow!” The gold color in the blouse she held under her chin transformed her face from plain to interesting. She glanced at his choices more carefully, thumbing through them. The man had hidden talents. She’d never have chosen any of the combinations, mainly because the ensembles looked like they belonged on a model for one of those funky magazines Cassie was always reading. “Are you sure you’re not gay?” she asked, eyeing his reflection in the mirror.

  Jack looked up and caught her gaze, holding it a second too long. “You want to find out?”

  “No.” Lucy laughed and averted her gaze, concentrating on the clothes on her arms. Damn. How did he do that so easily? With just a smile and a look, her stomach was doing backflips.

  She had a job to do. Flirting with Jack wasn’t part of it.

  After checking some of the price tags, she dropped all but one outfit on a nearby chair, intending to immerse herself in her role and utilize this opportunity. Wasn’t Cassie always urging Lucy to go shopping with her at the mall? Her friend would be the first to cheer her on now.

  Pushing out a sudden stab of loneliness, she held up the slinky and very sexy red skirt and paired it with the ruffled gold blouse cut to show cleavage, which added more than sex appeal, then checked out her reflection. And even more tempting? At seventy-five percent off, both pieces were very reasonably priced.

  Yep. Jack had done this before. No way he hated shopping as much as he claimed.

  “I’ll be back,” Lucy said, lifting her brows up and down, imitating his earlier Schwarzenegger impersonation after grabbing the rest of the clothes. Then she hurried toward the dressing room.

  Behind the dressing room door, a sliver of guilt broke through when Lucy changed out of her sweatshirt and donned the gold blouse. She was here to garner information, not to enjoy her role playing so much, she kept reminding herself, as she tried on another of the blouses Jack had picked off the rack. Still, she couldn’t help but like his taste and how the clothes seemed to transform her into someone else.

  Lucy glanced in the mirror.

  Hell’s bells!

  The man had an innate sense of what worked for her better than she did. The bold coffee color brought out her eyes, making them look like aged bourbon. Earlier she’d put on a touch of mascara, after they decided to visit suspects. She never paid much attention to her plain looks. Any attempt to improve them was a wasted effort, in her opinion. But in this shirt, her eyes did stand out more, and some of the fallen curls from her expensive salon appointment yesterday afternoon framed her face with a softness she normally didn’t possess. After her confrontation with Lizzie, along with all the unpleasant memories that wouldn’t recede, her reflection grounded her in the present. Lucy only had to remember she wasn’t that kid any longer. She’d grown past it to become someone to be proud of and didn’t owe the Lizzie Kincaids of the world squat.

  “I don’t like it.” The voice drew Lucy out of her thoughts. Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the dressing room wall.

  “What don’t you like?”

  Lucy’s heartbeat sped up at what sounded like teenagers talking. She hadn’t heard anyone enter the dressing room next to her. Crossing her fingers, she prayed Jack was right about eavesdropping to learn something concrete about Cassie’s disappearance.

  “This whole business. It’s frickin’ crazy.” There was a long pause. “All that’s happening with Lindsay and M—”

  “Shush.”

  Lindsay? Lucy thought back to the files. There was no mention of a Lindsay, but that didn’t mean these two weren’t involved with Cassie’s disappearance. She concentrated harder because the girl now talking had lowered her voice.

  “Walls have ears. No names. You know the rules.”

  “Screw the rules,” the other one said a little louder. “This shit’s gone way past rules. I want out.”

  “Are you retarded?” The question held more than a touch of sarcasm. “There is no out. Especially now.” Her warning tone filled the air. At that point, Lucy’s hackles went up and she leaned closer to the voices. Obviously, the second girl wasn’t happy with the first girl wanting out. “Everything is totally under control. Just do your part, use your mouth when you need to, and keep it shut the rest of the time.”

  Lucy leaned against the wall in order to catch more of their heated words.

  “I still don’t like it.”

  “No one’s asking for your opinion. Besides, you like the benefits, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “I do.”

  “Then I don’t see a problem.” After a few seconds of silence, the same voice piped up again asking, all anger gone from her tone, “What do you think of this outfit? Does it make my butt look big?”

  “What the f…,” the first voice shot back. “You’re fishin’, girlie. You and I both know your butt is your best asset, along with your boobs.” She snorted. “You’re the last person who should worry about T & A. Just be happy you’re not flat like me.”

  “You’re right. But it doesn’t hurt to have the verbal confirmation.”

  “Like I said,” the other one said in a bored manner. “Fishin’ for a compliment.”

  “No, you slut, I’m not. What I’m fishing for is your fricking honest opinion and for you to tell me if my butt looks big…or if it’s my imagination. Now I know.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes, even as she tamped down disappointment. Neither had mentioned a word about Reecie…or Cassie. Heck, she had no idea if one of the girls was Marci as no one had mentioned any names. They could just as easily be mean girl teens—more interested in how they looked—most likely discussing some cruelty they’d perpetuated on a classmate that had nothing to do with Cassie or her disappearance.

  Lucy’s attention returned to her reflection, but she kept her ears ope
n to catch more of their conversation. Just in case.

  “Besides, expensive clothes hide faults,” the girl concerned about her butt said. “Thanks to our side jobs, you can afford the best.”

  “Yeah, but I’d rather look like you.” There was a short pause before the first voice added, “I’d get more.”

  “You’re so full of shit. I thought you wanted out.”

  “Not really. I don’t know. All this shit going down could screw things up.”

  “You worry too much. We’ll be fine.”

  “I just wish Lindsay wasn’t missing.”

  “Will you quit? Lindsay has a habit of disappearing. Besides, she’s not our problem.”

  “Maybe.” There was another pause, then the same voice added, “Don’t you think I’d get more if I looked like you?”

  “Now who’s fishing?” Girl number two laughed. “You got the touch and you deliver without the chest.” She broke off for a moment. “You know damn well that’s worth more, but if you’re really that bothered, have a boob job.”

  “Yeah.” A loud snort filled the air. “Like my mom would let me.”

  “Get real. What did you pull in last time you counted?”

  “Close to a thou.”

  Both had lowered their voices, but they must have been right against the wall because their words carried enough for Lucy to make out every one as long as she paid attention. This conversation was getting far too interesting to ignore. They sounded like wealthy brats with too much time on their hands and not enough supervision.

  “Why?” the same voice asked seconds later.

  “Take a day off school. Go to Louisville with your fake ID and just do it. Doctors rarely ask questions when you flash the Franklins.”

  “And how do I hide a new chest from my mom? She’d kill me.”

  “Do you honest to God think she’d notice? And if she did, tell her your tits grew because of a maturing body,” the second girl said, placing emphasis on maturing body.

  Then they both laughed. Wicked adult laughs that raised the hairs on Lucy’s neck, which along with the crack about fake IDs made her rethink her assessment of these two.