He did neither. Instead, he opened his door and climbed out. “The guy’s name is Bob Stangel,” he said, with his hand on the door. “He should be here in a few hours. I’ll tell him to come here instead of the hotel.”
“You’re assuming I’ll be here,” I pointed out. “Maybe I will be, maybe I won’t.”
“Damn it, Harmony, don’t do this.”
“Tell Lando and Scotty I said hi.” I revved Dolores’ engine, hoping he would get the hint.
He pulled his laptop from behind the seat and started to close the door. I braced myself for the expected slam. Instead, the door swung open again and he slid back in. “Fuck it,” he swore, his voice harsh.
Surprised, I looked at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Not if you won’t trust me enough to put up with Mr. Stangel for a few days. The job can go to hell.”
“You’ll lose your job?” I squeaked. A flood of guilt washed over me. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I meant to. I thought it would be safe to leave for a few days, and then this morning happened. Now I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. So I contacted the agency who is providing Mr. Stangel. It’s the only thing I could come up with.” He took a deep breath. “Do you want me to beg, Harmony?”
I caved. He guilted me into it. “Go catch your plane. Tell the bodyguard I’ll be expecting him. But here. Not at the hotel.” I had to save face somehow.
*****
It’s only for a few days, I reminded myself. I could put up with him for that long. Unobtrusive, he wasn’t. His method of protecting me was to cross his arms and stare malevolently at anyone who approached me. He’d hand me the paper each morning and then escort me back upstairs while Piper went nuts barking at him. Piper didn’t like him either.
I stopped going to the library because he scared the other patrons. He was a six-foot something bundle of overdone muscles, bad vibes, and tightly coiled nerves who never smiled. Not sure if he could with the scar that ran down his left cheek. I was afraid to ask him how he got it.
The day it snowed, I invited him into the apartment while I searched for information on the sex lives of the scientists at the South Pole. Sure, the quarters were crowded, but if you throw men and women together like that and leave them stuck in isolation for six months, sex is bound to happen. But no one talked about it. That’s when I realized how much I missed Elijah. I wasn’t going to try to crack jokes about sex on ice with Mr. No-Personality. When it warmed up the next day and the snow melted, I banished him to his van.
Wednesday night at the Flamingo was a bust. With him glowering at me the entire time, none of us could relax. He made the other customers uncomfortable too. Randy, the bartender, finally slipped me a note, asking me to get him to leave. The only way that would happen was if I left, so I did.
And Halloween? I didn’t expect the kids to tromp up the outside steps to my place, and I enjoyed handing out candy and seeing the costumes. Normally, I wrapped up in a blanket and sat at the bottom of the stairs with a cup of hot cocoa and handed out treats from there. Mr. Grumps-A-Lot didn’t like the idea at all. Heck, he was scarier in his every day long black coat than the kids in their costumes. He wouldn’t stay in his van but I made him sit on the landing behind me so he wouldn’t upset the youngest children too much. The teenagers escorting their younger brothers and sisters thought he was a cool prop I’d added to my minimal decorations.
Luke and Joe didn’t like him either. The day the three of us got into a wrestling match while raking up the last of the leaves, it was like the end of the world had come. Did Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Ugly really think that either of the boys would hurt me? Hell, I swear he growled when I tossed a handful of leaves at him.
At least he approved of the self-defense class. Once he was sure the instructor knew his stuff, Mr. Stangel took off for parts unknown. But when I left the building after class, he was leaning against his van, waiting for me.
When the few days had stretched out to a week and beyond, I’d had enough.
Now, I had gotten tons of work done during my exile to my fortress of solitude. I was so caught up with research for my authors I was ahead of them. All that extra time was used for my personal research. I finally got to read the police information on my abduction, and to spend time trying to solve the mystery of the necklace. If Jake had ever responded to Elijah, Elijah never told me, so I decided the hell with them. I was back on my own.
I also learned that the company Elijah worked for built computer software, specializing in programs for law enforcement. No wonder he knew so much about the police department’s systems. I got distracted and spent far too much time investigating how easily the cops are able to track what anyone is doing, with or without warrants. That night I promised myself to replace my portable landline with an old-fashioned phone with a long cord to carry around the apartment. At least they needed a warrant to tap the line, instead of just listening in on the radio wavelength the portable broadcasted on.
I got a call from Elijah once. He was taking a break from a meeting. That was at nine at night, so it must have been a pretty important meeting. When he asked me how everything was going I flat-out lied and said fine. It wasn’t a total lie, because there had been no more cars following me or abduction attempts. Not that I went anywhere. Shit, even when I made my weekly trip to the grocery store, not only did Mr. Stangel follow me, I noticed a city cop in my rearview mirror as well. Elijah and I talked for only a few minutes before he had to return to the meeting.
Out of boredom, I even bought the supplies needed to try some of the basic jewelry projects suggested in the book I’d bought in Washington. With beads spread out on the coffee table, I was flipping through the slim pickings that basic cable offers. I was trying to find the news channel when a commercial actually caught my attention. Just one of those unsolved mysteries type of things, but this one highlighted jewelry thefts. And there, on the small screen, in living color, was a picture of a gorgeous white gold, ruby and diamond masterpiece. My necklace.
Okay, so it wasn’t my necklace anymore. But it had been for that one glorious night. And if I ever wanted to get my life back, I had to find it.
A quick glance through the curtains in my darkened bedroom told me Mr. Never-Takes-A-Break was still outside. I hoped he’d settled in for a long night, because that’s what he was going to get. Normally he would leave shortly after I turned off all the lights in the apartment and went to bed, and after he called the police to remind them to step up their patrols. My lights would be burning for hours still.
I pulled the box of Jake’s postcards back out of my closet and carried it to the front room. My gut told me they held the answer. I just needed to find it.
I kept the postcards in chronological order. At first I kept them because of the beautiful pictures, but once our relationship turned into more than just friendship—at least, that’s what I believed at the time—I kept them for the messages as well. The first time he wrote “Love ya’” as his sign-off I’d reacted like a giddy teenage girl.
It didn’t matter what cities they had been sent from anymore. Scotty and I had pretty much researched that aspect to a somewhat successful conclusion. I started to read them for any clues they might hold. But then, unwanted at first, the memories came.
I thought back to the day Jake and I walked along the edge of the lake, watching the fireworks display the city put on each year. Families sat on blankets in the grass, while children lit sparklers and swirled them around, creating light streaks reflected in the calm waters. I smiled at the teenage couple sitting with their arms around each other, the girl’s head resting on the boy’s shoulder. I didn’t say anything when Jake wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. I didn’t even worry when he was gone the next day. I had sensed his goodbye in the kiss we shared at my door.
By the fall, he spent more time in town, and not coincidentally, more time in my bed. It was one of those things that just happen. We never talked
about it or planned it, but when we were together it felt right. I don’t know which one of us said the “L” word first, and it didn’t matter. And I believed him when he said it. The day he took me to see the house he was going to remodel and flip, he even mentioned marriage. He didn’t propose, but I hadn’t expected him to, not then. I couldn’t imagine things going so wrong so fast.
By the time I got to the last postcard—the picture of a magnificent Victorian home in Nashville mailed from Cleveland of all places—I was in a puddle on the floor, wracked by tears. Not crying as much for what we had lost, but for what we might have had and never will. And I didn’t know if I would have a chance for it ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mr. Show-No-Emotion actually looked worried when he handed me my paper the next morning. Worried enough that he accepted my invitation when I slipped and asked him in for coffee. I was that tired. He looked tired too. I wondered if he’d slept at all. I told him nightmares had kept me from getting any rest, I planned on going back to bed, and so should he.
It would have made a great cover story if I had been looking to slip away, but I really did plan on taking a nap. I promised him I wouldn’t go anywhere before noon, and I meant it. I even gave him the keys to Dolores so he would know I was sincere. Naturally, I have a spare set, but he took the gesture for what it was, grunted and left, making sure I locked my door before he went down the stairs. Despite the coffee, I fell asleep not three minutes after my head found my pillow.
I woke up a few hours later with a clear head. A long, hot shower restored more of my energy. So when Mr. Stangel showed up, perfectly timed to me putting on my shoes, I handed him a bottle of water, pulled on my coat, and headed down the stairs. We were going for a walk whether he liked it or not.
Actually, he didn’t seem to mind. I guess the days of not getting any exercise had gotten to him, too. We didn’t talk, just walked side by side along the deserted sidewalks. They wouldn’t stay that way for long. Once school got out, we would be fighting kids on bikes and scooters, and mamas pushing baby strollers. I planned to be home before it became an issue.
A block away from the house he suddenly grabbed my shoulder. “Expecting company?” he asked, his gruff voice low and urgent.
“No,” I said, puzzled.
He pushed me under the cover of the maple trees that lined that stretch of the sidewalk. With his right hand, he reached inside his coat, under his left arm. So that’s where he kept his gun.
“Recognize that car?” He indicated a silver four door cruising through the intersection ahead.
“No. But there are a lot of silver cars in town.” But the prickly feeling at the back of my neck returned in a rush, and I stepped behind the trunk of a large tree.
He pulled some sort of contraption out of his pocket, fiddled with it, and held it up to his eyes. Collapsible binoculars. Despite my anxiety, the thought crossed my mind that I should buy a set. We watched as the car pulled in behind his van and someone got out.
“He’s alone,” my bodyguard informed me.
The man reached into his coat pocket and held something to his ear. About the same time as he tucked one hand into his armpit, my cell phone jingled. I let it go to voice mail. “Hand me those please,” I requested. It only took a swift glance to confirm my suspicions. The knot of tension forming at the base of my skull disappeared. “Have you ever met the guy paying for your services?” I asked as I handed back the binoculars.
“No.” He was a man of few words.
“You’re about to. That’s Elijah Hennessey.”
I wanted to play some kind of trick on Elijah, but in the short distance I wasn’t able to come up with a good one. Besides, Mr. No-Sense-of-Humor wouldn’t approve of any of the devious ideas that floated through my mind. I settled for walking up behind Elijah as quietly as possible, avoiding the last few leaves scattered in my path. He had his back to us, staring down at his phone, typing in a text message. With my finger on my lips, I winked at my companion.
“Boo!”
I knew it was lame, but grinned as Elijah jumped.
“Harmony!” he gasped as he turned around. He looked like he wanted to grab me and shake me, but then he noticed the hulk.
“Elijah, this is Bob Stangel, the bodyguard you hired.” I managed not to smile at the look the two men exchanged, sizing each other up. But Elijah was the man with the money, so Mr. Stangel extended his hand first.
For a moment I thought they were going to get into an arm-wrestling match but the tension was interrupted by a loud POP nearby. I found myself on the ground with two large men on top of me. Not the way I had imagined getting Elijah on top of me. About the same time, an old car puttered down the street, backfiring every few feet. Mr. Stangel and Elijah rolled off me and stood. Then they each extended their hand to help me up. A neatly choreographed show as they unwittingly moved in unison.
I sat up, brushed myself off, and ignoring their invitations, leveraged myself up with a push off the ground. After all, I didn’t want to play favorites, picking one over the other. I figured they could settle who was going to be the alpha between them. I wanted no part of it.
“Nice to see you again, Elijah.” I said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“It was a last-minute trip.” The muscle in his cheek twitched once, and then again and again.
As much as it amused me to watch the two of them glower at each other, I wasn’t able to convince Mr. Stangel to join us for supper. It was his first chance to take time off since he had started the job, and frankly, I think he was starting to get bored. So he went off to god-knows-where, while Elijah and I went to my place. I wished I could be a fly on the wall later at The Towers, because they’d be sharing Elijah’s suite for at least one night. Different rooms, at least, so they could avoid each other if they wanted to. I refused to acknowledge the thought of asking Elijah to share my bed.
I put on a pot of coffee, giving him time to decide to tell me what brought him back. I figured it was bad news, so I’d wait him out. I wasn’t in any hurry.
We made the obligatory small talk as we waited for the coffee to brew—how the weather had been, how work was going, how our favorite footballs teams were doing this season—and the twitch in his cheek never stopped. I estimated the muscle clenched once every twenty seconds.
Finally, with a coffee cup in his hand, Elijah seemed to come to a decision. The twitch finally stopped. “I need to apologize to you, Harmony,” he said.
“Why?” I asked with feigned casualness.
“Remember that bug we planted?”
“Yeah, I remember. You took it out, right?”
`Well, I was supposed to.” He refused to look at me. “But I didn’t,”
I looked around for something to throw at him. The only unbreakable things handy were my books, and I didn’t want to sacrifice one of them to my fury.
“What the hell?”
“Scotty convinced me to leave it.”
“So you have been monitoring me ever since you left?” I paced the floor in the small space between my kitchen and the front room.
“No!” He said it with conviction but I didn’t believe him.
“Some friend you turned out to be.” I walked over and yanked opened the front door. “Leave. Now.”
“Hear me out.”
“Kick you out is more like it,” I muttered to myself. I crossed my arms and glared at him. “You have two minutes so talk fast.”
“Lando and Scotty send their love,” he said. Like that was going to help. The chilly breeze blowing through the open door suited my mood. “They said you should take some time off and go to San Diego with them next summer. They’ll help you with a costume and everything.” Okay, so it was starting to work. I closed the door.
Elijah almost smiled.
“I started to remove the bug, I even had it in my hand when Scotty called. He asked me to put it back. Said he worried about you, and it made him feel better to leave it. Claims he o
nly listened in once in a while.”
Well, it was Scotty. Maybe I could forgive him.
“Last night was one of the nights he checked on you.”
Oh, shit.
“He tried calling you and you didn’t pick up.” Probably true. I don’t remember hearing the phone ring, but I wouldn’t have answered it anyway. “So he called me and put me on speakerphone so I could hear what was going on.”
Crap.
“I took the first flight available to get here. Talk to me, Harmony.”
I slumped into the loveseat beside him. Seating was limited in my place. “I had a rough night,” I admitted.
“That’s an understatement,” he said. He put his cup on the table beside the box.
“All I wanted to do was figure out what Jake did with the damned necklace.” I pointed to the box on the coffee table. “So I went through the postcards again. I still think the answer is in there.” Shrugging my shoulders, I added “I didn’t find it. What I found was a bunch of old memories.”
He hesitated, and put an arm around my shoulder. Friendly-like, supportive. Nothing else. But I liked it.
“It’s just that one of these days I’d like to have my life back,” I said.
He sighed and the arm was removed. “I never got an answer from Jake.” Elijah leaned forward and picked up the box. “But truthfully, I didn’t expect too. Just the amount of postcards he sent you shows how much you meant to him.”
“Either that or I provided a good cover story,” I grumbled. But my heart didn’t believe it.
The Marquesa's Necklace (Oak Grove Mysteries Book 1) Page 16
