by Curry, Edna
I’ll Always Find You
by Edna Curry
I’ll Always Find You
by Edna Curry
Copyright 2011 by Edna Curry
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. All names in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without written permission of the author, except for short excerpts for reviews.
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Credit:
Cover by Bev Haynes
Prologue
He needed to move on before someone discovered the body.
He sat in the smoky downtown Chicago bar and nursed his beer. Moving on to a new city after each incident was his custom and had served him well. He hated the job of packing up and unpacking again in a new place, but it was a necessary evil.
His gaze flicked over the couples dancing on the small square of hardwood flooring. A tiny live band played at one end of the crowded room holding maybe a hundred people, mostly young couples in casual clothes. Every stool at the bar and every chair at the tables around the room was occupied. Colored lights flashed around the room, turning every face purple, pink and green in turn and moving on.
One lovely young blonde woman caught his eye. She danced gracefully, but never twice with the same partner. His gaze kept going back to her, singling her out from the crowd. Was she alone? He watched her until he was sure she was.
Giving in to a strong urge, he decided to meet her. Moving could wait another day or two, couldn’t it? Leaving his beer, he moved to intercept her. “May I cut in?”
She smiled a welcome and her partner retreated.
“I couldn’t help admiring you. You’re so beautiful and the most graceful dancer here tonight. I just had to meet you,” he said smoothly. He introduced himself, using his current alias.
“You’re so sweet!” Her slurred words told him she’d already had a couple of drinks. She readily moved into his embrace for a slow dance. The smell of beer surrounded them and mingled with the scents of a dozen perfumes.
Some men said they had trouble meeting women in a big city, but he never did. Looking like a successful businessman made women receptive to him, he supposed. If you look trustworthy, people think you are.
That made it easy for him to continue his favorite pastime, enjoying the lovelies of the world. He dressed the part. Women often told him they thought he was good-looking. He spent hours in the gym making sure he kept his body in a shape women would admire and approve.
This woman was an excellent dancer, following his lead perfectly. She had long, shiny blonde hair, too, his first requirement in the women he chose to be his. “You have lovely hair,” he told her, reaching up to caress it.
“Thank you.” She smiled, cuddling closer into his embrace.
Women loved dancing. The drinks, the music in the background combined with the comforting hum of conversation in the room helped shorten their getting-acquainted time. After years of practice, he was a master at picking them up.
After two more dances, they spotted an empty table and grabbed it. He bought them more drinks. After another hour of dancing and small talk, success—he convinced her to let him take her home.
“My friends had to leave early,” she said. “I planned to take a taxi.”
“Perfect. Then we won’t have to worry about your car.”
She looked doubtful for a moment. He didn’t push, letting her make the decision.
Then she giggled and nodded agreement. “All right. It’s kind of you to offer to take me home.”
He retrieved her coat from the back of a chair and led the way to his car.
She gave him directions to her apartment, allowed him to walk her to her door. She gave him her phone number and e-mail and agreed to go to dinner with him the next weekend. He gave her a quick kiss goodnight, just as friends, nothing to worry her. Then he strode back to his car, whistling.
An excellent beginning, just like all the others. Yes, she was too good to miss. Definitely, moving could wait a bit.
Chapter 1
Loni Jacobs admired the sparkling diamond wedding rings as she straightened their velvet boxes in the jewelry store showcase. Almost closing time of a very busy Christmas shopping Saturday. She loved her job clerking in Adam’s Jewelry Store in a little mall near Lake Michigan in downtown Chicago, but tonight she was exhausted and just wanted to close up and go home.
Still bent behind the case, she glanced at her watch. In a few minutes, she’d pull down the metal guard closing the store and she and Sheri, the other clerk, would put most of the better jewelry in the safe for the night.
A shadow fell across the lighted glass case. Startled, she straightened and looked up, expecting to wait on yet another customer. Instead, two men in black leather jackets with nylon stocking masks over their heads stood on the other side of her display case.
Her breath caught in her throat. Oh my God, a hold up! I have to hit the alarm.
Her feet became lead anchors. Frozen in place, she stared at the closest man. Cold brown eyes looked back at her through the stocking. The stretched out beige nylon flattened his nose and lips.
Sheri screamed. Loni darted a glance at her and gasped aloud. Sheri stood wide-eyed against the wall behind the display case, her hands up and her face white. The shorter of the two men loomed over her, then grabbed Sheri’s arm and roughly shoved her back toward the display case.
The tall one aimed his pistol at Loni, jerking her attention back to him. Her jaw dropped. She swallowed hard. Her blood pounded in her ears, her stomach lurched and her knees threatened to buckle. She grabbed the glass counter in front of her to keep her balance. I’m too young to die. I haven’t even had a chance to really live yet--to travel or to get married or have children.
The man thrust a canvas bag at her. “Give me all your cash and the diamond and emerald jewelry. Forget the cheaper stuff. And don’t get cute and set off any alarms,” he ordered, his voice muffled through the mask.
Loni couldn’t move. Her limbs refused to obey her.
“Move!” he snarled.
She had to do something. Sheri was whimpering, obviously too frightened to help her.
“I said, move!” The tall one with the gun barked at her, again.
Loni reached out and took the bag from his hand, noticing he wore clear plastic gloves. “Okay, okay. I’ll get the money,” she said in a shaky voice.
“That’s a good girl. You’re kind of cute, you know? I like blonde hair. I’ll bet it’s nice and soft.” He reached out and ran his hand along her hair, muttering, “Damn gloves. Can’t feel much through them.”
She shrank away, her stomach churning.
He leered. “Is this your card? Yeah, it is. Your picture’s on it.” He took one of her business cards from the display and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans.
She swallowed a retort, panic slicing through her. He had her name. Thank goodness the card only had the store’s address, not her home address. Forcing her numb legs
to work, she stepped close to the cash register. As she punched the key to open it, she slid her foot under the counter and pressed the silent alarm to alert security and the police. How soon would someone respond?
The man eyed her suspiciously. “Hurry up, Damn it!”
She jumped, her hands flying up. Money fluttered to the floor. She clutched the counter to keep her balance.
“You clumsy bitch!”
She glared at him, anger overcoming her fear. “Quit yelling at me. You’re making me so nervous, I’m all thumbs.”
“Huh! Pick up the money and put it in the bag.” He frowned and waved the gun at her.
As she bent to obey, Loni heard Sheri whimper as the other man made her fill another bag with merchandise. Her throat constricted in sympathy. Would either of them live through this?
The minutes ticked by as she and Sheri put the money and jewelry into bags. After she filled one, the robber grabbed it and handed her another bag. She worked as slowly as she dared, pretending to fumble and have trouble closing the zipper.
Loni dared a glance out into the mall’s commons area, now almost empty of shoppers. The lights in the men’s clothing store across the way dimmed. Some stores ringing the commons had already lowered their metal guards. Everyone was closing up. No one seemed to notice anything amiss over here.
Why weren’t the police responding? Where were the mall’s security men? These guys were going to get away!
“That’s enough.” The tall one reached out with his left hand, grabbed the bag, keeping the gun trained on her. He glared at her. “Now lay down on the floor, face down. You, too,” he said, swinging around to aim his gun at Sheri.
Both women quickly obeyed. “Don’t shoot,” Sheri moaned.
“Don’t give me ideas,” the guy snarled. “Don’t tell the cops anything or I’ll come after you, you got that? I’ve got your name, and I can find anybody on the internet.”
He turned to his partner. “Let’s go.”
Looking under the display case, Loni caught a glimpse of one of the men’s white Nike shoes as he ran out of the store. Thank God they’d left without harming her or Sheri. Would someone notice their masks and get suspicious? Surely someone would notice the masked men running down the mall corridor?
The hard wooden floor pressed against Loni’s cheek. Dust and floor wax tickled her nose. Her pounding heartbeat began to slow in relief. Beside her, Sheri sniffled, hiding her face on her arms. Loni reached over, slid a comforting arm around her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just so scared. Are they gone?”
“I saw them run out, but let’s give them a little more time to get further away. I don’t want them to look back and shoot at us. At least they didn’t tie us up.”
Minutes later, all seemed quiet and they cautiously got to their feet and peeked over the counter. Their store was empty, the robbers gone. Out in the mall a couple of women with shopping bags strolled to the escalator. Christmas music still played softly.
Sheri trembled, her face still white. “I thought they were going to shoot us.”
“So did I,” Loni replied. “Thank God they just left.”
“Yeah, they left—with all the money and our best jewelry. Mr. Adams is going to have a fit!”
“I know. I’d better notify him after I call the police.” Loni shuddered and reached for the phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed 9-1-1. Before anyone answered, two policemen appeared cautiously around the entrance, guns drawn. A moment later, a third appeared.
Loni dropped the phone, sank into a chair. “You’re a little late,” she snapped at them. “They’ve gone. And they got all our money and a lot of our best jewelry.”
“We responded as soon as the dispatcher told us you’d set off the alarm.” The officer frowned and holstered his weapon. “Tom, you and John go to the neighboring stores. Ask if anyone noticed anything.”
“You pushed the alarm?” Sheri gasped, swinging around to face Loni. “Are you crazy? They told you not to! They had guns. You could have gotten us both killed.”
Loni closed her eyes. Her insides still shook. She didn’t need Sheri’s hysterics to tell her they’d been in danger. “The alarm’s under the counter. He didn’t know I did it.”
“You’re crazy,” Sheri insisted, crying again. “The stuff they took is probably insured.”
Loni bit back a retort and nodded. Tears glazed her eyes as she forced herself to face the remaining tall, dark and rugged-looking officer.
He eyed them, frowning at their exchange. “I’m Detective Joe Jennings. Tell me what happened.”
“No, don’t tell them anything, Loni!” Sheri cried, putting out a restraining hand. “Remember, he said if we did, he’d come after us!”
The officer shook his head and laughed, a nice, baritone rumble that sent reassuring ripples through Loni as he told Sheri, “They always threaten people like that. They don’t want to be caught. But how are we going to stop them if you don’t tell us what you can?”
“He’s right,” Loni said. Ignoring Sheri’s disapproval, she turned back to the officer. “Two guys wearing black leather jackets and nylon stockings for masks came in just before closing. Their faces looked all flat and squished under the nylon. They had guns and made us put the money and jewelry in bags they’d brought.”
Joe nodded. “Did they touch anything? Maybe we can get some fingerprints.”
Loni shook her head. “No, you won’t get any fingerprints. They were both wearing plastic gloves and they made us put everything into their bags, so they didn’t touch anything themselves.”
He frowned and shrugged. “Everyone watches TV these days. Give us what you can. Height, weight, clothing, anything you can remember.” Pulling out a clipboard and pen, Joe began writing information down.
“They were white men, fairly young, mid-twenties, I think. One was about your height and weight, the other maybe three inches shorter and thirty pounds heavier. They were wearing old jeans, plain black T-shirts and black leather jackets. Nylon stockings over their heads distorted their features.”
“Anything else?” Joe sent a stern look at Sheri.
Apparently deciding to cooperate, Sheri said, “The shorter one’s hair was dark brown. Long, down to his shoulders. Blue eyes. A small gold loop earring in his left ear.”
Loni added, “Blond hair on the taller one. And his eyes were brown. No earrings. A wide, plain gold wedding band. I could see it through his sheer plastic gloves. And he wore white Nike shoes. They made us lay on the floor. I looked under the display case as they ran off and saw his white shoes and socks.”
“Good,” Joe said. “Every little bit of detail helps.”
“Loni, are you all right?”
She turned at the familiar voice of her ex-boyfriend and frowned. “What are you doing here, Hank?” As usual, the tall blond man wore designer slacks and sweater. He always resembled a model in a magazine ad.
Hank nodded at the policeman who frowned at him. “I heard about the robbery on my scanner and came to take you home, Loni. As soon as you’re through here, of course.”
She glared at him. “No, thanks.”
The other policemen had returned and began putting up yellow crime scene tape. One hid a grin and turned away after warning Hank to stand back.
Hank smiled benignly at her. “But it’s closing time. And you’re upset. A nice dinner and a couple of drinks will relax you and help you forget all about this.”
She ran her hand through her hair with a frustrated sigh. “Don’t you ever give up? What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”
“But we….”
“No. N-O!! I don’t want to go out to dinner or anywhere else with you, Hank. Not tonight or any other night. I meant it last week when I told you we were through. Please, just go away and leave me alone.”
At her sharp tone, Joe turned back to Hank, his eyes watchful. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”
“The outside mall doors are s
till open. I’m Hank Jones. Her boyfriend.”
“Ex,” Loni emphasized.
Hank’s face turned dark red. He glanced at the frowning officer, sent her a look of pure hatred, then spun on his heel and walked out, his back stiff.
Loni turned back to the policemen. One had a camera out and snapped pictures and Joe was still writing on his clipboard. She saw them exchange knowing looks. She knew she hadn’t been very nice to Hank, but was too upset to care.
Sheri gawked. “That hunk is the guy you broke up with last week? Jeez, why didn’t you introduce him to me?”
Loni rolled her eyes without answering. She didn’t want to list Hank’s shortcomings in front of everyone. If Sheri only knew how awful her last date with Hank had been, she wouldn’t think he was such a catch. She shuddered and gave a relieved sigh when she heard her boss’ voice.
“Loni? Sheri?” Mr. Adams strode in. His florid face appeared darker than usual and a concerned frown covered his wide face. “Are you two okay?”
“Oh my God. I forgot to call him,” Loni said, her hand flying to her mouth.
“I called him,” the officer said.
“Oh, thanks.” She looked back at her boss. “We’re fine, Mr. Adams. Just shaken up a bit.”
“Thank God.” He gave them both a thorough once over, then nodded, apparently satisfied they weren’t bleeding or worse. “The main thing is you two are safe,” Mr. Adams said kindly. “The money and jewelry are replaceable.”
“Thank you,” Loni said, relieved at his understanding and comfort. She rubbed her arms, still trembling with tension.
They went over the details of the robbery again. “I’ll stay and close up after the officers finish here,” Mr. Adams said. “If you’ve answered all the policemen’s questions, maybe one of the officers will drive you both home?”
“I’ll be glad to, Sir,” Joe said. “I’ll need them to sign the report anyway. The other officers will finish up here.”