Imminent Affair

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “Glynis might pass from a distance, with bronzing makeup and my style of clothes. But that’s a bit of a stretch.”

  “It could have been the girl Glynis mentioned.”

  “If she’s even real.”

  Daniel blew out a tight breath. He could only hope that Glynis had been telling the truth. For now, the stalker seemed like a phantom.

  And that made protecting Allie seem just as elusive.

  For the next two days, Daniel seemed even more protective of Allie. Was it because they were lovers? Had that made him more of a bodyguard? Or was it because Rex hadn’t uncovered any information about the girl Glynis had mentioned?

  Whatever the case, he remained by her side.

  She turned to look at him. They’d just carried groceries in from his truck and were preparing to unpack the bags. They planned on cooking together later. She was going to teach him to make stuffed bell peppers, using ground beef for him and veggie crumbles for her.

  “Are you still going to want to hang around with me when this is all over?” she asked.

  He scanned the length of her. “You’re kidding right?”

  No, she thought, I’m not.

  “Allie, why would I let you go?”

  Now that they were lovers? His meaning was clear. “You wouldn’t, I guess.”

  “Damn right, I wouldn’t. Our friendship isn’t going to end.”

  “It will if one of us starts needing a committed relationship.”

  He cocked his head. He was frowning. “With each other or with someone else?”

  With each other, she thought. But she said, “Either, or.”

  “Why worry about that now?” He started unloading a bag of frozen food. “Why mess with success?”

  Unrequited love wasn’t success. Allie ached inside. But she put on a brave front. “You’re right. It’s just the dreamy side of me talking.”

  “The fantasy girl.” He came forward to kiss her, to press his lips lightly against hers.

  But he was pressing a carton of ice cream against her, too. She shivered from the cold.

  He stepped back, realizing what he’d done. “Sorry.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “At least it’s your favorite flavor.”

  She smiled, too. At least he knew what her favorite flavor was. She doubted that there was another woman he could say that about.

  After all of the food was put away, he asked, “Do you want to get out of the house for a while?”

  “And go where?”

  “I don’t know.” He thought it over for a moment. “How about a park or a beach?”

  “A beach,” she decided. She loved the sand and the surf, even on breezy winter days.

  He rattled off a list of locations. “Manhattan, Malibu, Redondo, Santa Monica, Venice or Zuma?”

  Allie considered her options. “Let’s do Venice.” She wanted to be in a lively setting, where she wouldn’t dwell too deeply on love or darkness or death or any of the other things that continued to plague her mind.

  “I’m game.” He was ready to go.

  She grabbed her sweater, and they headed out the door.

  Once they arrived, they drove around and searched for a parking spot. Although Venice Beach was a tourist summer spot, it bustled during the holiday season, too. Vendors peddled their wares and homeowners decorated their canal-front properties.

  The city limits were decorated with commissioned artwork, too. As a mural of Jim Morrison on the side of a building came into view, Allie reveled in the culture.

  She turned to Daniel. “Can you imagine what this place was like when he lived here?”

  “Crazy, I’m sure. It’s still kind of whacky.”

  “That’s what makes it so great.”

  “I think so, too.” He glanced at Morrison’s half-naked body. “Who painted that?”

  “Rip Cronk. He’s amazing. His work is all over this town.” She studied Daniel’s profile, and the urge to immortalize him came back. Only this time, she expressed her feelings out loud. “I’d like to paint you like that.”

  He shot her an incredulous look. “On the side of a building?”

  “No. In my loft. I have some free wall space.”

  “That’s all you need. A big-ass painting of me. It wouldn’t go with your other mural.”

  “Yes, it would.” Her other mural featured unicorns, fairies and an armor-clad knight slaying a dragon. “I already told you that you’re my real-life knight.”

  “What if you stop feeling that way about me?”

  “That won’t happen. You’ll always be one of my heroes.”

  “Because I got shot for you?” He stopped at a red light. “I’m a man with an empty mind, Allie. I’m not a good subject for your art.”

  “I’ll give you memories. I’ll paint them inside your head.”

  He turned onto a narrow side street and found a parking place, wedging his truck between two other cars. “But those memories wouldn’t be real.”

  Not unless she was able to create magic with her art, the way she used to. But Allie doubted that she could. Lately, her life had been grounded in deep, dark reality.

  They exited the truck and took to the streets. She didn’t mention the painting again and neither did he.

  As soon as they got to the boardwalk, Daniel’s cell phone rang. It was Rex, and he wanted to meet with them to discuss the girl Glynis had told them about.

  According to the P.I., she existed.

  Right down to her schizophrenic disorder.

  Chapter 11

  Daniel and Allie sat on a bench outside a surf shop and waited for Rex. To keep themselves occupied, they watched the boardwalk activity.

  Venice was loud and messy. In the summer, the regulars consisted of hippie types, artists, tourists, bodybuilders, dog lovers, skateboarders and homeless people. The winter crowd was much the same, except the sun worshippers were more clothed than usual.

  Daniel thought it was an interesting place to spend the afternoon. But Rex’s call had shaken his and Allie’s emotions. Both were anxious for more information.

  “I wish he’d hurry up and get here,” she said.

  “At least this place is entertaining.” He gestured to a nearby coffee cart. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Sure. I’ll take a latte.”

  “That sounds good to me, too.” He stood up. “I’ll be right back, okay? But don’t move from this bench. Stay where I can see you.”

  “I will.” She smiled a little.

  He waited in a short line, then ordered their drinks. He got a couple of cranberry muffins, too. Naturally, he kept glancing back at Allie.

  When he returned, she took her coffee and accepted one of the muffins. He settled beside her. He heard a raven caw, and the bird’s voice gave him a quick start.

  He turned toward the sound. “In Haida folklore, Raven is a trickster, a mythological demigod. But I guess I’ve told you that before.”

  “Yes, when we first met. I wish you remembered my Raven.”

  “So do I.” A shard of envy jabbed his gut. “But he isn’t yours anymore.”

  “He never really was. He always belonged to his wife.” She sipped her latte. “At least you’ve seen the painting I did of him.”

  Yes, he’d seen it: a powerful image of a warrior with piercing eyes and long flowing hair.

  “He admired you, Daniel. He trusted you to locate the talisman that saved him.”

  He watched the bird that had cawed. It sat high atop a telephone pole. “Maybe this raven is trying to tell us something.”

  “Like what?”

  The bird looked down at him, and Daniel wondered if it was a common raven or a mythical one. Sometimes you couldn’t tell. “Maybe he’s trying to tell us that the stalker is a trickster, too.”

  Allie picked at her muffin, dropping crumbs on her lap. “She’s certainly tricked us so far.” Her attention shifted to a tall, broad figure coming their way. “Rex is here.”

  The P.I. smiled at
a pretty girl as she passed, and Daniel shook his head. Rex Sixkiller had a causal way about him. Charming, Daniel supposed, to women anyway.

  If Rex lived on the edge, he didn’t let it show. But at least he had a permit to carry a concealed weapon. Daniel, like most California civilians, was unarmed.

  Not that he hadn’t broken the law for his Warrior Society missions. Daniel was an accomplished thief. In spite of the amnesia, he remembered how to bypass security systems and pick locks.

  But this thing with Allie was different. As far as he knew, he’d never volunteered to protect anyone before.

  Rex greeted them and scooted onto the bench, sitting next to Allie. The P.I. shifted his gaze between them. “Something’s changed between you two.”

  Allie had the grace to blush, and Daniel scowled. The other man was way too observant. He’d sniffed out the sex instantly. But that was probably a skill that went with his job, following around cheating spouses and whatnot.

  Regardless, Daniel didn’t like it.

  “Just stick to the case,” he told Rex.

  The other man shrugged, and a serious conversation ensued.

  “Her name is Ann Kangee,” Rex said, referring to the girl Glynis had mentioned.

  “Kangee?” Daniel started.

  Rex cocked his head at a curious angle. “Does that name ring a bell?”

  “No. But it means raven in Lakota,” Daniel said.

  “Oh, my God.” Allie released a sharp breath. “You’re right, it does. Kanga, Kange, Kangee, Kangie, Kangi, Kangy. They’re all variants of raven.”

  Rex went quiet, but he seemed stunned, too. He was aware of the raven connection. All of the Warrior Society knew about Allie’s shape-shifter lover and about Daniel’s belief that ravens were tricksters.

  “I wonder if it’s an omen,” Rex said.

  “I think it is.” Daniel glanced up, scanning the telephone pole for the bird that had been watching him, but it was gone. “Ravens keep coming into our lives, even in the form of Ann’s name.”

  “Then let me tell you about her.” Rex cleared his throat and continued. “She’s twenty-three and lives off a trust fund she received from her maternal grandparents. She’s a mixed-blood. Native father. Anglo mother.”

  “Does she have a history of violence?” Daniel asked.

  “No.”

  “But she has a mental disorder?”

  “Yes. Schizophrenia is characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. Since this is such a sensitive issue, I took the liberty of calling her parents.”

  Daniel didn’t mind Rex’s intervention, not if it helped. “How’d that go?”

  “Her mother insists that she’s harmless. That she would never threaten anyone.”

  “What about the father?”

  “I didn’t talk to him.”

  “Did her mother say anything else?”

  “She admitted that Ann gets obsessed with celebrities and that she had overly amorous feelings for you when she was younger.”

  “How does Ann feel about me now?”

  “It’s tough to say. She’s been gone for two months.”

  “Gone?” This from Allie.

  “She lives with her parents, but every so often, she goes off by herself, disappearing purposely. They used to search for her, but now they just let her be. Eventually she comes home on her own.”

  Allie spoke again. “How difficult can she be to find?”

  Rex frowned. “Difficult enough. She lives off cash, so there’s no paper trail to follow.”

  Damn it, Daniel thought. One step forward, two steps back. “I’d like to talk to her parents myself.”

  “I already told the mother that you’d be contacting them. According to her, they have fond memories of you. You helped the father recover a medicine bundle that was stolen from his ancestors. You’re a hero in their eyes.”

  “I’ll be kind about their daughter.” But he wouldn’t stop pushing for answers. He needed to know if Ann was the stalker. “Has she ever been institutionalized?”

  Rex shook his head. “She’s considered a high functioning schizophrenic.”

  “But she still has a tenuous grasp on reality?” It sounded complicated to Daniel. “Glynis said that she liked to draw. Did you ask her mother if she was a good artist? If she was into comic books? Or if she favored wigs?”

  “I didn’t discuss those elements. I figured you’d be doing a complete interview.”

  Yes, he would, with Allie by his side. The woman whose safety depended on it.

  After Rex left, Daniel called the Kangees, but they weren’t available until tomorrow, leaving him and Allie with another full day of waiting.

  They decided to return to his truck. They didn’t want to stay at the beach. Venice was too loud for their solemn mood.

  As Daniel unlocked the doors, Allie reached for what appeared to be a handbill on the windshield. But when she glanced at the white sheet of paper, she gasped.

  He didn’t ask what was wrong. He simply rushed over to the passenger side of the vehicle where she stood. Although she held tightly to the paper, her hands were shaking.

  Oh, God, he thought.

  While they’d been at the beach, the stalker had made another threat. This time it was a comic-book-style rendering of Allie in a plain wooden coffin, the lid open for viewing.

  “Allie in a box,” she said, reminding him of the night she’d slept in his arms, fearful of nightmares, of seeing herself in a coffin.

  And now she had.

  Before Daniel pried the drawing from her fingers, he called Detective Bell.

  While the police were en route, he said, “This isn’t an omen. This isn’t going to happen.”

  “How did she know it was my worst nightmare?”

  “She didn’t. She couldn’t have.” Was that the best he could do? The best he could say? Daniel had never felt more inept. “She just drew you in the next stage.” The first drawing was death. The second was the burial. In a twisted way, it made storybook sense.

  “Do you think Ann is the stalker?” she asked. “Do you think she did this?”

  He looked into Allie’s eyes and realized that she was trying to temper the fear by having a logical discussion, by focusing on the investigation.

  “Do you?” she asked again.

  “Yes,” he responded. “It seems possible that Ann is the stalker. But I can’t help wonder what would trigger it after all these years.”

  “Maybe it was the shooting. Maybe she read about you in the paper, and her old feelings came back. Something like that could have renewed her childhood crush and made her start obsessing about you again.”

  “You’re right. It very well could have. Plus, she’s been missing for two months, about the same time I got out of the hospital.”

  “Maybe she’s been watching you since your coma.”

  “And she doesn’t like me being friends with you?”

  “I’m the only woman in your life. It stands to reason that she would consider me a threat. Not to mention that you were shot because of me.”

  “We might be onto something here.” Or they could be way off base and be blaming an innocent girl. “Hopefully we’ll be able to figure things out once we talk to her parents.”

  “I feel bad for them, having to defend their mentally ill child.”

  “Me, too. But her psychosis could be the key to all of this. As far as we know, our other suspects don’t struggle with reality.”

  “Glynis likens herself to Bettie Page.”

  “Yeah, but that seems like vanity.”

  “Rather than insanity?” Allie sighed. “Can you imagine how Glynis is going to gloat if she turns out to be right?”

  Daniel made a face. “We’re not kissing her lily-white butt.”

  Allie scrunched her nose, mirroring his expression, and they sputtered into laughter.

  A moment later they went quiet. Too quiet. Their situation wasn’t funny.

  “I wonde
r what Ann looks like,” Allie said.

  “We’ll have to ask her parents for a recent picture. We’ll have to tell Detective Bell about her, too.” He frowned at the coffin drawing, wishing the police would hurry up and get there.

  “Maybe Bell will locate a witness,” she said.

  Someone who saw the stalker? “Maybe.” But Daniel doubted that with all the bustling activity in Venice, a woman placing a “handbill” on a solitary vehicle would have garnered attention.

  “I wish this would end.”

  “It will,” he told her, praying that he spoke the truth. “It’ll end soon.”

  Christmas was right around the corner, and after the holiday, he and Allie would be returning to work. How vulnerable would she be then? Without him by her side?

  “I’m going to do some research on schizophrenia in conjunction with stalking,” he said. “If Ann is the culprit, it might help us second-guess her.”

  In response, Allie touched his arm, making a physical connection. He took it a step further, pulling her tight against him.

  She went pliant in his arms, but he didn’t gentle his hold. Daniel couldn’t bear to let go. Even when the police arrived, he stayed close to her.

  Very, very close.

  The Kangees lived in an apartment in Old Pasadena, above the trendy restaurant they owned.

  Old Pasadena wasn’t as colorful as Venice, but it was still a tourist attraction, hosting the New Year’s Day Tournament of Roses Parade every year. Soon Colorado Boulevard would be flooded with flower-covered floats.

  Daniel and Allie stood outside the Santa Arroyo Eatery, preparing to walk around to the side of the building.

  Was Allie as uncomfortable as he was? He suspected that she was. Neither of them relished the idea of accusing Ann of a crime, at least not to her parents’ faces.

  But the research Daniel had done last night confirmed that Ann could be stalker material.

  According to a pertinent article he’d read, wives and girlfriends were often the target of female stalkers because of the stalker’s infatuation with the husband or boyfriend.

  These types of delusional stalkers fell into the intimacy-seeking profile, believing that the husband or boyfriend was their soul mate.