Authors: Donna Richards
Hank hesitated. “Could she stay with your brother a few days?”
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“I suppose so.” Better her than me, she thought. “But if Mom is at Stephen’s, where would I stay?”
“With me.”
“Somehow, I don’t think my mother will approve.” She could easily imagine her family’s reaction when she told them she’d be staying with Hank.
“As much as I’d prefer your mother’s approval, that’s not my main concern.” He shifted, his face a somber mask. “Think about this logically.
You won’t be alone and your mother will be safer staying with someone else. My house is large enough to accommodate you and Oreo…and your mother if she insists, although she’d be safer at Stephen’s. There’s a good chance these people, whoever they are, don’t know my address or that you’d be staying with me.”
Angie didn’t point out that someone already knew enough about their relationship to have taken a candid photo of her at his house. She was too tired to think of alternative places to stay and, in truth, she felt more protected from outside danger with Hank than without him.
“And don’t give me that breach of independence line,” he said, obviously misinterpreting her silence. “You work for me now, remember?”
“I don’t recall that living with the boss was part of the job description.” Her lips tightened.
“I’m not suggesting you move in to share my bed.” He raised an eyebrow. “Although if you want…” The invitation dwindled away once he glanced at her face. “I guess not.” He stood. “I’m just concerned for your safety. The decision is yours to make.”
The automatic doors opened with a swoosh. “Miss Blake?” The receptionist stayed in the vestibule and called out to them. “The doctor would like to talk to you now.”
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The doctor wanted to keep Oreo overnight. The bullet had passed clean through the muscles of her shoulder and upper leg, narrowly missing the dog’s spine. Blood loss was a concern, but the vet assured Angela that given her pet’s age and health, full recovery was probable with adequate time and rest. Hank drove her straight from the animal hospital to the police station to file a report.
Angie figured at this rate, she would soon know the entire Westerville police staff on a first name basis. She answered the same questions with the same vague answers. No, they didn’t know of anyone who might have a grudge. No, they didn’t see the car. It blended in with the dark night.
Yes, she was the same Angela Blake who had reported an earlier vandalism and attempted break-in.
The officer sighed. “There’s not much to go on. You two are the only ones who saw the car, yet neither of you got much of a description or a license plate number.” Angie shifted under the policeman’s hard stare.
“Although each of your recent complaints seems insignificant on the surface, taken together they don’t paint a pleasant picture. Someone is trying to harm you, Ms. Blake. Yet you don’t know who or why.” He hesitated as if Angie could suddenly provide the solution to the puzzle.
She couldn’t.
“If I were you, Ms. Blake, I’d take precautions.” He pulled out a business card case. “Maybe it’s a good time to go on a vacation, get out of town.” She hardly thought that was a solution. As long as these people were on the loose, she wouldn’t feel safe anywhere. Still, the officer’s comments added credence to Hank’s analysis. “If either of you think of anything more, call me.” The policeman placed a card on the table.
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“We’ve never had a drive-by shooting here before. Some things we’d like to leave for the larger cities.
They left the station and returned to Hank’s car. Once en route, Angie bit her lip, glancing over to Hank. “Is there someone who might want to shoot at you?”
Hank shook this head. “Elizabeth’s father is pretty upset with me at the moment, but not enough to kill me. That would pretty much defeat his purpose.”
“And what purpose is that?”
“To get Elizabeth married off.”
“I wouldn’t think that would be such a difficult problem. After all she’s beautiful and …”
“She comes with a lot of baggage.”
Angela hesitated, stumbling over the question that had plagued her since they met. “Do you love her?”
“Lord, no.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “We’ve been friends since we were children, and I understand her more than most, I suppose. But love?” He shook his head.
Angie looked out the window, feeling relieved and buoyant at his admission. The slumbering landscape rolled by in the light of an occasional streetlight. Skeletons of once lush trees stretched bare limbs to the moon. Dried leaves raked into piles the height of a small child rose from the lawns like some all-consuming fungus. Long stretches of darkness replaced the occasional passing house light. She sat upright with a start.
“This isn’t the way to my house.”
He stiffened. “I thought we decided you should stay with me.”
“But I need clothes, toiletries,…”
He relaxed behind the wheel. “You can call your mother and ask her to pack a suitcase. Maybe Stephen could drop it off tomorrow.” Hank steered the car up the long driveway into the garage. “Why don’t you give her a call now?”
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“How well do you know this man?” Her mother asked after hearing Hank’s idea. Angie detected an ounce of suspicion in her voice.
“Pretty well.” An understatement. After all they had shared, she knew Hank better than she knew her own brother.
“Do you trust him?”
“Oh yes,” she said without hesitation. She trusted him to do the right thing, the noble thing. Even if it meant marrying a woman he didn’t love.
“How long are you planning to stay there?”
“I don’t know. I guess until we find out who is responsible.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
It was a good question, but one to which she didn’t have an answer.
“I wish I knew. I’m tired of police reports. I’m tired of waiting for something terrible to happen.”
“Maybe it’s time for you to take the initiative.”
Her mother’s observation hit her like an overstuffed file cabinet. She was trained to analyze? Why wasn’t she doing it now? Why was she so willing to be a victim?
“I trust you know what you’re doing, Angela. Be mindful of your heart. I’ll send Stephen over with clothes and your prescriptions. Be careful and know that I love you.”
Angie replaced the receiver yearning for one of her mother’s hugs.
They had always eased her worries in the past. A hug wouldn’t do it this time, but maybe her mother’s advice would. It was time to be proactive, to figure out who was behind this series of accidents. She would start with a list and look for a pattern. She fished a pen from her purse and glanced around the tabletops looking for some paper. Hank was nowhere in sight.
An envelope with the top slashed by a letter opener lay on one of the tables. She smiled, the very table where she had first discovered the costume boxes. The back of the envelope would have to do. She’d make a list of all the different suspicious events and dates and possible suspects.
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She carried the envelope around to the sofa, flipped on the light and settled down to think.
“What are you doing?”
She looked toward the hallway. Hank stood with his arms full of brightly colored silks and satins. Lace spilled out from between his fingers. A fuchsia feathery boa trailed behind him. He stared at the envelope in her hand.
“There you are,” she said. “I didn’t know where you disappeared.
Looks like you have your hands full.”
“So do you.” His voice held no humor. She looked at the envelope.
“You mean this?” She held it up by a corner. “I needed some paper but all I could find was this. Do you mind if I write on the back? I thought if we –-”
A pale green check fell out of the slit opening and fluttered to the floor. “I’m sorry,” Angie said. “I didn’t mean… “
She picked up the check and gulped. “Five Hundred Thousand Dollars--I’ve never seen a handwritten check that large.” She looked at the payer’s name, Jim Owens.
Hank dropped his colorful bundle on the opposite end of the sofa, then walked behind her and leaned over her shoulder. “Bribe money. It’s the second installment.”
His breath stirred the back of her neck sending delicious tingles down her spine. She twisted around to see him. “I know you said he was paying you to marry his daughter, but five hundred thousand dollars?
And this is the
second
installment?”
He nodded, then walked to the wing chair across from her and sat down. “My family lost a lot of money in a stock deal on my recommendation, more money than they could afford to lose. This was my only opportunity to recoup the loss. Does the amount make my actions more palatable?”
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for acceptance, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion or shame, she wasn’t sure which. Maybe she had judged him a little too harshly. She slid the check back in the envelope and laid it on the coffee table between them. “What are all those?” She nodded to the colorful pile of garments.
“Elizabeth keeps nightgowns here so she has more room in her suitcase to pack. I thought you could borrow something to wear for tonight.”
Angie pulled the top garment off the stack, a bright pink floor-length satin gown sized to fit a six-foot model. She considered her own short stature. “I think I might be more comfortable in something of yours rather than Elizabeth’s. Do you have a pajama top or a T-shirt or something?”
“I don’t wear pajamas.” For a moment she thought he blushed, but it might have been a reflection cast by the bright gown. “I didn’t think T-shirts would make sense for Ohio this time of year. I have some clean undershirts. Would you like to try one of them?”
She thought about wearing one of his undershirts, one that had rubbed up against his chest and had been tucked in his pants. Her cheeks started to burn. It would probably carry his scent, no matter how many times it had been washed. She gathered up the rest of the garments in her arms. “I’ll just look through these. I’m sure I can find something.”
She took the lingerie back to the room across the hall from Hank’s.
Sorting through the vibrant stack, she found a blue baby doll nightie that probably teased the top of Elizabeth’s buttocks. On Angela, it dropped to mid-thigh. Still, it didn’t drag on the floor. She checked her reflection in the mirror. The puckered, gathered bodice scooped low, exposing her scar and an ample amount of cleavage. She chuckled. She had cleavage! After so many years of turtleneck sweaters and concealing blouses, she had forgotten. The form-fitting bodice molded to her figure, detailing every curve. Scandalous. She loved it.
Just for fun, she slipped on a long, sheer, boa trimmed robe, then walked the length of the room, letting the garment drag behind her. With 244
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a sultry pout and some fake eyelashes, she could be one of Stephen’s classic movie queens.
A knock on the bedroom door interrupted.
Hank stood on the other side, a legal pad his hand. His eyes widened, his jaw slacked open. She rather enjoyed rendering him speechless.
“I found one that fits,” she said, twirling in front of him.
“I see.” He swallowed. “You look fantastic.”
She pointed to the legal pad. “Is that for me?”
“Yes, you were looking before, and I found, well, I thought…” he rambled. “Can I get you something? Anything? A glass of water? I know you don’t drink scotch. Maybe a glass of warm milk?”
She yawned. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.” She pulled the legal pad very slowly from between his frozen fingers. “Good night, Hank.” She closed the door but still heard his muffled “Good night.”
* * *
The room was too quiet, or too noisy, or too dark, she couldn’t decide which. More probably, she was too scared. Having charted everything that had occurred, she came to one conclusion. Someone at Hayden didn’t want her there. Nothing happened the week she was unemployed, but the moment she showed up at Hayden, trouble followed. It had to be connected to her suspicions of theft. No one was targeting her dog. They were targeting her. Oreo just got in the way.
Outside, the wind blew in sudden gusts and the house responded with unfamiliar creaks and sighs. She missed Oreo and the comfort of her mother’s familiar quilts. She tossed and turned and hammered the pillows into misshapen blobs. A tree branch scraped across the window and she sat straight up. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She’d never fall asleep in this room.
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her memory, she could almost feel his breath on her neck, his chest pressed against her back, his manhood pressing her… Her mouth went dry.
“Water,” she announced to the empty room. “I’ll get a glass of water.”
She opened the door to the hallway and noticed Hank’s door ajar.
She crossed the hallway and pushed through the outer office without a sound.
“Hank?” she whispered from the doorway. She didn’t want to wake him if he was asleep but if he wasn’t…
“Angela?” He sat straight up in bed. “Is everything all right? Where are you?”
“Here,” she answered. “I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I’m a little scared. I don’t know. After everything that—”
“Come here,” he said, sliding to make room for her on the mattress.
“Let me hold you.”
She crossed the dark room, buoyed by the timbre of his voice. He held the sheets apart, inviting her to slide between them. Any lingering doubt about the appropriateness of her aggressive behavior vanished the instant his arms closed around her, pulling her tight against his chest.