by Rayna Morgan
Dan quickly positioned himself between the two. “The lady doesn’t want to speak with you, sir. Why don’t you resume your seat at the bar?”
The man pushed past him to get to Stacy.
With one quick move, Dan twisted the man’s arm behind him and steered him toward the exit. The bartender motioned to a security guard who ushered the customer out.
Dan returned to the table and pulled out a chair for Stacy. “Sorry for the ruckus. Do you know the guy?”
“I’ve never seen him before,” she said, taking a seat. “Thanks for intervening. He was more persistent than most.”
“Do you get much of that rude behavior?”
“It comes with the territory. Ardent fans who drink one too many. Most of them are polite when I tell them I’m not interested.”
“Ingrid told me you don’t drink before you go home. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“She knows what to send to the table. I drink herbal tea this time of night.”
After catching the bartender’s attention, he made a gesture of tipping a cup to his mouth and pointed at Stacy. Ingrid nodded.
“You said you needed my help,” Stacy said when he turned back.
“Since you seem to be acquainted with most people around here, I have a question for you.”
She smiled. “That’s a lounge singer’s trick to make everyone feel as though you know them personally. Like you are singing just to them.”
He laughed at himself over the disappointment he felt. “And I thought the looks we exchanged meant we were making a connection.”
She reached across the table to touch his hand. “I didn’t say you and I aren’t connecting. I’m explaining that I don’t know these people well. In fact, I started this gig not long before you came on the scene.”
“Then I guess you can’t tell me if you’ve noticed any strangers hanging around?”
“Someone other than tourists?”
“Yeah. Anyone who looks as if they’re here for reasons other than vacation.”
“Let me think.” She withdrew her hand and tapped her fingernails on the table. “Now that you mention it, there is one guy. He comes in alone and sits by himself, watching everyone going in and out.”
“Does he pay attention to anyone in particular?
“You, perhaps?”
“It may sound weird, but I think someone’s been following me. Is the person you described here now?”
She scanned the room. “He was here earlier. He must have left before you came.”
He jotted his number on the coaster and pushed it across the table. “That’s my cell phone. I'd appreciate a call if you see the guy again.”
“Sure thing.” She tilted her head. “Is that the only thing I can contact you for?”
A smile made its way across his face. “I’m foot loose and fancy free, if that’s what you’re asking. Call me for anything. Coffee. Dinner. A boat ride to the islands.”
“Hold on, cowboy. I was thinking along the lines of suggestions for additions to my repertoire since you seem to be a jazz fan.”
His face turned crimson. “Sorry, I jumped the gun. But I should warn you, I asked about your marital status. Ingrid told me you’re divorced.”
“And did she mention my kid?”
“I’m divorced with a kid of my own.” He laughed at himself “I’ve got to quit referring to her as my kid. Ashley recently turned twenty.”
She smiled. “They stay your kid forever, no matter their age.”
“How old is yours?”
“Timmy is seven.” Her eyes sparkled when she described him. “He’s a real firecracker, that kid. As funny as he is smart. And so talented playing drums, I let him help me rehearse.”
Her laugh was deep and throaty, the kind that made a person feel good just to hear it.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Look, if we’re going to continue talking, let’s go somewhere. I try not to stay at one table too long. If I’m seen sitting with a customer, others expect the same treatment. It makes it hard for me to break away.”
“My boat is a few steps away. Thanks to my daughter who is trying to improve my eating habits, I even have herbal tea.” He finished his drink. “You go ahead so we aren’t seen leaving together. My boat is the Dixie Cruiser. She’s in the last slip at the end of the dock. I’ll pay the tab and follow right behind you.”
• • •
When he got to the boat, Stacy was sitting on the bench at the rear.
She stared at the starry, cloudless sky. “It’s so peaceful with moonlight reflecting on the water and waves gently rocking the boat. No wonder you enjoy this style of living.”
“Until I moved out here, I hadn’t considered taking up residence on a boat. In fact, I gave it to my wife as part of our divorce. My work with the Rangers kept me too busy to have time for boating. But when Jessica learned of my plans to relocate, she deeded the cruiser back.”
“That was nice of her.”
“She never used the boat. Her second husband is a college professor, not the outdoor type. But it made my move from Texas a whole lot easier.” He walked toward the stairs. “I’m going below to put my stuff away and get a glass of wine. I'll see what I can do about scaring up that herbal tea.”
“Don’t bother with the tea. I’ll join you in a glass of wine.”
“I thought you didn’t drink.”
“As long as I limit myself, I’m fine. If I need coffee before I drive, I'll let you know.”
Dan returned moments later with an open bottle and two glasses. After pouring the wine, he raised his glass. “Since we’ve been talking about boats, here’s a popular toast. ‘There are good ships, wood ships, and ships that sail the sea. But the best ships are friendships, so here's to you and me.’”
She tipped her glass to his. “And starlit nights on the water.”
He took a seat beside her. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I had a feeling there was something else bothering you about sitting with me at the restaurant.”
She lowered her eyes. “My ex-husband and I didn’t end on good terms. I think he’s having me watched.”
“I wasn’t under the impression your ex lives here. The bartender told me you came from Chicago.”
“The south side, to be exact. Not the best area to grow up in, but my father’s ancestors settled there. That’s where I met Tony. He ran a nightclub my girlfriends and I frequented. The first few times we went, we got in using fake identification. On our last visit, the doorman pointed us out to the owner. It seems the authorities had been raiding neighborhood clubs. This place was being watched by police, so they had to be careful.”
“Were you thrown out?”
“My friends were, but I was taken to meet Tony himself.”
“What did he want with you?”
“He told me he’d seen me in the club on previous occasions. He asked when I'd be of legal age to work at the bar. He thought I’d make a good cocktail waitress. I was excited at the prospect and informed him I would be twenty-one at the end of the year. He said if I wanted a job at his club in the meantime, I could work as his personal assistant.”
“Did you accept?”
She nodded. “For me, it was a way out.”
“A way out of what?”
“Spending time at home. My stepfather and I didn’t get along.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a bully who gets abusive when he drinks. I used to beg my mom to leave him. I told her she deserved someone better. A gentle, loving man like my real father.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Mom couldn’t bring herself to go. She felt her best years were behind her. Her looks were fading and she had emphysema from smoking. The only physical work she could do was cashiering for minimum wage.”
She paused to sip her wine. “My mother had a constant fear of being laid off, though it never happened. Whenever she found out a friend or neighbor lost their job, she fretted for days over the prospect of a similar fate. The idea of being on
welfare was repugnant to her. She chose to put up with my stepfather’s bullying in exchange for a roof over our heads.”
“Where was your natural father?”
“A drunk driver killed him the summer I turned fifteen.”
“That’s tough.”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “We were close when I was growing up. He’s the only person I trusted and looked up to. The only one with whom I shared my dreams of being a singer.”
“Did he encourage you?”
She brightened with the memory. “I sang from as early as I can remember. My father loved to hear me. He had me sing at every family event.” Her brightness dimmed. “After he died and my mother remarried, the only time I sang was alone in my room to block out the sound of arguments.”
“Was your dream to sing professionally?”
“When my father was alive, we planned how I would continue my music education.” Her eyes hardened. “Besides refusing to help with college, my stepfather insisted I pay my share of living expenses for being in our house.”
“That’s an unfair burden for a young person.”
She nodded. “Studying, working part-time, and helping my mother with her failing health got to be too much. I dropped out after one semester of college. I’d been job-hopping for some time when I met Tony.”
“I can understand why his offer of a permanent job appealed to you.”
She nodded. “Besides giving me an excuse to be out of the house during nights my stepfather drank, Tony was the first person to give me a chance to sing in public.”
“How did he discover your talent?”
“I used to sing when I was alone in his office. One day, he returned earlier than expected and caught me. He was impressed and immediately made plans for me to perform at the club. He believed with my looks and sultry voice, I was sure to be a hit.”
“He’s a good judge of talent, I’ll give him that.”
She blushed modestly. “Tony arranged everything. Bought me new clothes, found an accompanist, and hired a publicist to spread the word that a major new talent would be appearing at the club.”
“How did your debut work out?”
“Much to my surprise, his prediction came true. From the first night I sang, the place was packed.”
Dan poured himself another glass of wine. “When did you go from being a singer at his club to being his wife?”
When he held the bottle toward her, she placed a hand over her glass. “Tony can be a charmer when he chooses. He swept me off my feet. When I became pregnant, we decided to marry.”
“What happened to the happily-ever-after?”
A shadow passed over her eyes. “My girlfriends told me stories of his smacking around women he dated before we married. But you know how that goes. I believed it wouldn’t happen to me because he loved me so much. In my own mind, I justified Tony’s actions toward other women and determined never to give him reason to act the same with me.”
Dan’s stomach knotted. Any time he heard about a man controlling a woman through superior size or strength, it sickened him.
“Did he ever lay a hand on you?” he asked.
“He raised his arm during one of our arguments. I looked him squarely in the eyes and told him if he struck me, he’d never see me or his son again.”
“Did your threat work?”
“For a while, he changed into the charming man I married. But the sweetness wore off when his world turned upside down.”
“What happened?”
“The authorities investigated Tony and his partners for money laundering and tax evasion. That’s when I realized the club was simply a front for other clandestine operations. Our life became a nightmare of being hounded by the feds and reporters. The day came when I was summoned for questioning. I could no longer hide my head in the sand and pretend that environment was a suitable place to raise our son.”
“What did you do?”
“I saw my music in a different light, as the best way out for me and Timmy. Through singing, I could earn enough to support us after I cut my ties with Tony.”
“How did he respond when you informed him you wanted a divorce?”
“He went ballistic. Told me I was the glue holding him together. He pleaded with me to stay and promised to make things better. But for Timmy’s sake, I stuck to my guns.”
“Did he finally agree to a divorce?”
“He refused to accept the end of our marriage, convinced we could work things out. But I knew a future with Tony was impossible. He wasn’t the man I thought I married. There were too many times he expected me to turn a blind eye. I couldn’t live that way, nor raise a child in a world built on lies. I figured if I moved away, he’d get over me and agree to a divorce.”
“I assume he didn’t go along with your plans to leave.”
“I didn’t stay around to argue with him. Instead, I hired an agent to find a gig as far from Chicago as possible. Then I packed up my son and left.”
“So you’re not actually divorced?”
“My attorney served papers on my husband before we moved. When he failed to respond, I filed for divorce by default. We worked out support and visitation through mediation and the divorce was granted. Most of our contact since I left has been through attorneys. Tony and I haven’t spoken for months without the presence of a third party.”
“And I used to think my ex and I were on bad terms.”
“You don’t speak either?”
“We didn’t get along after the divorce. I resented the fact she relocated to California, taking Ashley so far away. She blamed me for being the cause of our marriage failing. It took a while to move past our anger. Things improved when necessity forced us to work together to save our daughter from self-destructive behavior. Now, I’m happy to say, Jessica and I are friends.”
“I’d like to think that could happen with Tony and me, but I don’t hold my breath. He’s the kind of person who hates to lose.”
“Has he threatened you since the divorce?”
“No, but I think he’s had me followed. He would never come himself. Instead, he’d send one of his goons to spy on me. In fact, the guy you ran off could have been working for Tony.”
“What did the man say to you?”
She brushed off the question. “It was too noisy. I couldn’t hear.”
He didn’t believe her, but she continued before he could pursue the issue.
“That’s why you sense my wariness about socializing. I’m afraid Tony, in his demented thinking, still believes we’ll get back together.” She shivered. “He won’t tolerate anyone getting in the way of that happening.”
“Let’s go below,” Dan suggested. “It’s become chilly out here.”
“That sounds good. And I’m ready for coffee if it's available.”
“Coming right up.”
He poured the remaining wine in his glass and dropped the empty bottle on the bench before following her downstairs.
• • •
After seating her at the table, he prepared the coffeemaker and pressed the switch. Reaching into an overhead cabinet, he brought out a bottle of brandy.
“A drop of booze in your coffee?” he asked.
“No thanks. You go ahead.”
When the brew was ready, he filled two cups and placed them on the table. After adding brandy to his coffee, he sat across from her and asked the question gnawing at him. “How far would Tony go to get rid of someone he considers an obstacle to getting you back?”
A worried expression crossed her face. “Please tell me Tony or his thugs haven’t threatened you.”
“There are indications someone is after me.”
She moaned and wrung her hands. “I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to someone else I know.”
“Has Tony hurt other acquaintances of yours?”
She nodded. “A friend who helped when I made my move to get away.”
He leaned across the table. “I need to know what hap
pened.”
“Justin met me for coffee on several occasions to advise me on how to accomplish my break. When my husband got suspicious of more than friendship, he had us followed. The situation grew scary. I tried to reason with Tony by saying Justin was helping with my music, but I knew he didn’t believe me.” Her hands trembled slightly as she sipped her coffee. “One night Justin dropped by the club to see how I was doing. We talked during my break. He left a short time later and was mugged on the way to his car.”
“Was he hurt?”
“Beaten badly enough to end up in the hospital with broken ribs and a concussion.”
“Was Tony responsible?”
“He denied it, of course. Chalked it up to a recent rash of burglaries in the neighborhood.” Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s the last time Justin and I saw each other. I refused to have anything further to do with him for fear our friendship put him in harm’s way.”
Dan remained quiet. He saw no point in alarming her, but he had no intention to stop seeing her based on unsubstantiated suppositions.
She broke the silence by reaching for his hand. “Tell me the truth. Do you believe you’re in danger?”
He deflected her concern. “The only thing I’m in danger from is eating my own bad cooking. How about protecting me by going to dinner with me tomorrow night?”
Her face lit up. “I’ll be working, but we can get together during my break.”
“Great. Where do you go on your breaks? No one ever sees you.”
“I’ll take you there. It’s a perfect place for a late night stroll.” She pushed her cup away. “Right now, it’s time for me to leave.”
He started to get up, but quickly fell back.
“Guess my sea legs aren’t as good as I boast,” he said, grinning sheepishly.
He placed a hand on the table to steady himself before making a second try.
“No need to walk me out,” she said, gently pushing him onto the chair. “Get some sleep. You’ve had a long day.”
She was gone before he could argue.
He put away the brandy and staggered to bed where he fell into a dreamless sleep.
• • •
Dan woke with a throbbing head the next morning. The smell of Stacy’s perfume lingered in the cabin.
