The Big Bad Wolf Tells All

by Donna Kauffman

  “At least you’re staying in Big Harry,” Sue said. “Millicent has all kinds of security, right?”

  Tanzy nodded. “The latest and greatest.” It was the first thing either of them had said that actually made her feel better.

  “So, wait,” Sue said suddenly, still putting it all together. “You thought the stalker was in the crowd at the radio station, then? And Riley knew about him by then, right? So it’s no wonder he was edgy. Maybe that’s the real reason he went with you in the first place. He was worried about you.”

  Tanzy sat there. Sue had just unwittingly nailed the thing that had been bugging her about this morning since it happened. “That’s just it. I never did tell him.”

  Sue and Rina exchanged glances again. Tanzy sighed in disgust. “You know, I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but can we talk about the baby shower now?”

  She had to stare them down, but they both finally nodded. Reluctantly. She knew it would come up again, and soon. Not that it would make any difference. Now that Sue had zeroed in on it, Tanzy would likely think of little else until she had it figured out.

  After one last lingering look and a little sigh, Sue summoned her trademark sunny smile and turned her attention to the bags she’d dropped on the floor by her feet. She dug around in one of them and came up with a frilly yellow umbrella and a floppy stuffed bird. “Okay, first order of business. Themes, ladies. Showers, storks, or both?”

  “I feel simply terrible. I should have never asked her to substitute for me.” Millicent sighed. “Who would have ever thought someone would approach her at a function like that?”

  “You couldn’t have known,” Riley said, reassuring her again. “Even I didn’t predict he’d make personal contact. As I explained before, most obsessed fans—”

  “Hogwash, let’s call the little bastard what he is, a stalker.”

  “Well,” Riley reluctantly conceded, “he qualifies for that description now, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh dear,” Millicent said, for once sounding every one of her eighty-plus years. “I know I made a big to-do about keeping your identity under wraps, but now I think it’s imperative she knows what’s going on. I’ll warn you, she won’t like it one bit.”

  “No kidding,” Riley muttered under his breath.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He cleared his throat. “There is something I need to explain first. I’ve, uh—”

  “Speak clearly, Mr. Parrish. I didn’t hire you because you were the most likely to suck up. Sycophants I don’t need.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Riley said. “It’s just that, well, you made it clear that I was to keep my distance and keep my identity secret. So when I read your grandniece’s recent columns as part of my research, I thought it might be wise to take on a certain . . . demeanor along with my supposed job as your personal assistant.”

  “Explain.”

  Riley sighed silently. “Do you read her columns, ma’am?”

  “Yes, when I can.”

  “Then you’re aware of this new theory of hers.”

  “You mean this thing she’s going on about with the wolves and whatnot? Of course, but I believe I explained about her personal—”

  “I know. And I can certainly understand the caution.” Boy, do I, he silently added. “So I thought it . . . prudent to maintaining my focus that I adopt a rather, well, unwolflike attitude around her.” There was complete silence, and Riley kissed the rest of his retainer good-bye. “It seemed like a good idea at the time and, well—” He stopped when Millicent began to laugh. “Ma’am?”

  She slowed and took a moment to catch her breath. “Oh, my. That’s the most amusing thing I’ve heard in absolute ages.” She chuckled again. “You are the clever one.”

  “Well, not so clever now that I have to fess up.”

  Millicent merely made another amused sound. “I think you’ll do fine.”

  “She might well be on the phone ten seconds later, demanding my head on a platter.”

  “She very well might, though I daresay I doubt it will be your head she’ll be interested in removing.”

  Riley flinched and instinctively covered his crotch.

  “But she didn’t hire you,” Millicent stated flatly. “I did. And so far I’ve been quite happy with your services.”

  Riley thought she’d feel different if she knew of the very unsheeplike feelings he was developing for her grandniece. “I was hoping to gather a bit more information before approaching her. I’d feel better if I could detail a course of action regarding this increase in contact.”

  “Did you get the results of the fingerprint search?”

  “Yes, and there are no matches.”

  “Which means whoever left the note has no prior arrests, correct?”

  Or simply hasn’t been caught, Riley thought, but kept it to himself. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, that’s good news, then, isn’t it? Dovetails with your interpretation that he is unlikely to cause physical harm?”

  “Yes, well—”

  “I still want the sneaky little bastard caught, mind you. Threat or no threat, I won’t tolerate this kind of emotional sabotage.”

  Riley agreed, one hundred percent. He hedged a moment before bringing up the next question, but he was working for her, and she deserved to know any and all directions the case might be taking. “Let me ask you something, Ms. Harrington. What all do you know about Tanzy’s editor, Martin Stanton?”

  “Excuse me? Tanzy’s edi—what on earth are you focusing on him for? Aside from the fact that it was his foresight in recruiting Tanzy directly from the column she wrote for that campus paper that she is where she is today, I’ve also spoken to him personally about this. Before I decided to hire you.”

  “You told me that, but you said you only asked him if he was aware of Tanzy receiving any threats from anyone.”

  “Which he denied any knowledge of.”

  “Perhaps he wasn’t aware you meant the SoulM8 notes. If he’s sending them, he might think of them as flattering. A sort of secret admirer.”

  “To a woman half his age? An employee? Someone he thinks of as a protégée?”

  “You’re the one who warned me about her allure with men.” An area he really didn’t want to get into.

  “Yes, but I certainly didn’t mean—” She broke off with a huffing sigh. “What possible set of circumstances have led you to suspect him of this?”

  “It very well might be a dead end, but there are several things adding up here that individually look harmless, but when put together paint a different picture. And I understand the ramifications if it is her boss.”

  “None of them good,” she said, her tone a clear warning for him to tread carefully.

  “However,” he pressed on, undaunted, “I’m paid to be thorough. Sometimes it’s the person directly in front of us that we least suspect.”

  “Well,” she said with some resignation, “I appreciate your diligence, but I believe you are, as they say, barking up the wrong tree.”

  “She hasn’t mentioned his unusual behavior? Marital problems? Midlife-crisis conversations?”

  “Heavens, no. But we don’t spend a great deal of time discussing that sort of thing. I’m hardly a gossip, Mr. Parrish.”

  Riley found himself suppressing a smile. He’d bet money she had more dirt on more people than anyone suspected. She was simply more discreet than most.

  “I want him caught,” she stated flatly. “And I don’t want you spending all your time chasing dead ends.”

  “I can assure you I’m not. We’re still following the leads on the FishNet employees. That remains the higher percentage chance here. I’m just trying to cover all the bases. You don’t want your niece left vulnerable and—”

  “Do you honestly think there is a real chance he’s the one perpetrating this—this abuse?” she asked, doubt beginning to creep into her voice.

  “I don’t know enough at this point. I’m still tracking down evid
ence. Part of which is asking you these kinds of questions.”

  She sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry I was so quick to defend. It’s just the very idea that it might be someone close to her—” She broke off.

  Riley felt bad for putting a scare into the older woman, but it didn’t pay to stick your head in the sand. And Millicent Harrington was hardly the type to duck reality. “If it is him, you do realize there might be an innocent angle to this. He might be under the impression that she’d see this as notes from a secret admirer. It might be a secret little thrill for him, a game. Something to make him feel young and desirable, without having to confront her and face rejection or ridicule.”

  Millicent was silent for a long moment, then finally sighed heavily. “I can see your point. But we must tread very carefully here. You cannot simply confront the man with your suspicions. The ramifications against Tanzy and her career could be quite damaging.”

  “Understood.”

  “You’ll contact me when you know more?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ultimately, I want proof and I want a name. Leave the rest up to me.”

  Riley frowned. “Ms. Harrington, we can contact—”

  “Yes, well, I have my own contacts. Money and power can do more than fund charities, Mr. Parrish. You get a name and leave the rest to me.”

  “Ms. Harrington, I really must caution you—”

  “I’m eighty-two. Caution doesn’t have as much to recommend it when you reach my age. Contact me again when you hear anything more.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Riley said.

  There was a pause, then she said, “And may I say you need not worry I’ll find you a suck-up.”

  She was gone before he could react. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then he picked up the phone again and called FishNet, the service provider SoulM8 used and likely worked for. If they fingerprinted their employees, it was possible he’d have a name shortly, putting an end to the more uncomfortable speculation about Martin Stanton.

  Then he got to go downstairs and confess.

  Oh joy.

  Why is it we think we must handle everything alone?

  For men, I’m guessing it’s the fear-of-vulnerability thing. But what’s up with us women? Just who are we trying to impress? We presumably have friends and/or family to lean on in times of need. So why is it so hard to do?

  Or is it just me?

  Chapter 10

  Tanzy stared at her monitor for several long seconds, then hit save. Was this sending a potentially dangerous message to SoulM8? Admitting she was in a “time of need”? She silently argued that need came in many forms, and made the decision to let it stand.

  Leaning back, she chewed on the straw in her second chocolate milkshake of the day—no sense in letting a perfectly good, state-of-the-art blender sit idle—and let her thoughts wander. She was lucky. She might not have the traditional family, but she did have friends. And solo single or not, they were her family and she knew they’d always be there for her.

  So what if their group conversations occasionally shifted to topics she had nothing to contribute to? She supposed Mariel would feel the same way when she was the only one with a baby.

  Of course, it wouldn’t be too much longer before that didn’t hold true, either. Sue and Paul had been making nesting noises for the past year. And just watching Sue rhapsodize over gender-neutral nursery color schemes pretty much guaranteed the baby-making process was going to start any minute now.

  Tanzy couldn’t picture Rina, or for that matter Sloan, doing the mommy thing, but stranger things had been known to happen. She tried to picture Wolfie Jr.’s probable nursery décor and decided it might give her nightmares. Poor Wolfie Jr. Of course, given what Rina had told her, it was unlikely there was ever going to be a Wolfie Jr. She sighed, remembering when Sloan had first found out about Wolfgang’s extracurricular activity—and clueless, self-absorbed idiot that he was, he had actually talked about starting a family as a way to reunify their marriage. Yeah, a squalling newborn would be just the thing to put the romance back in their relationship.

  Which made her wonder for the umpteenth time what in the hell Sloan had been doing at the Huntington with Blond Adonis Man. Of course, Wolfgang didn’t have the market cornered on self-absorption in that relationship; Sloan was very intensely dedicated to her art gallery. But, as far as Tanzy knew, he had been the only adulterous one.

  She made a mental note to call Sloan in the morning, pin her down to sharing a drink or quick cup of coffee. Even if it meant cornering her in the gallery. That’s what friends did, right? Provided a shoulder, even when one wasn’t requested? Or maybe even desired?

  Which brought her full circle back to the friendship thing and the concern Rina and Sue had shown today. She honestly hadn’t planned to talk about it, but their reaction had only proven that she was officially beyond being able to rationalize the situation out of existence. She had to deal with it now. Somehow.

  She logged on so she could send her column to Martin. She’d have to tell him now, about the emails, the note, all of it. And she would. Tomorrow, when he called to discuss the column. Then she supposed she needed to call the local authorities, too, alert them to what was going on. She punched send, trying to figure out just how to broach the whole subject with her editor. Her instinct, of course, was to downplay the whole thing, reassure him it was probably nothing, and hope like hell he agreed.

  Then she opened her incoming email file and felt her stomach pitch and squeeze as she scrolled down through the list of sender names. Just the thought that another note might be waiting for her every time she signed on made her feel ill. And she knew she was going to have to admit to Martin that it wasn’t nothing and she wasn’t fine. She needed help.

  And she hated that more than anything.

  She was the anchor, the person who was traditionally The Shoulder the rest of them leaned on. After all, Tanzy Tells All was the one with all the answers, right? “Ha!” she groused, snatching up her milkshake again. Not feeling too damn clever at the moment, are ya?

  And could anyone blame her? Nothing was making sense anymore. Rina had given up on love, deciding marrying for money was a more stable option, no matter what she claimed. Mariel had married for love, but Tanzy wasn’t sure if it was love for Chuck or love of being a wife and mommy. And Sloan had apparently decided if you couldn’t beat the wolves, join them. Leaving Sue and Paul, who had somehow defied the odds and were rapidly becoming responsible, contented adults despite it all. Before too long they’d probably take off to spend their time with the rest of the grown-ups and leave their neurotic, dysfunctional friends behind.

  “God, Tanz. You want some cheese to go with that whine?” She wasn’t usually this pathetic. But then, she wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable. The one thing her unstable, untraditional childhood had done for her was to make her the invincible, self-reliant one. So finding herself on the needy end of a shoulder for the first time at age twenty-nine sucked.

  And that was when she realized just whose shoulder she’d feel the most comfortable turning to.

  Riley’s.

  And not because of the strong, tall, and silent thing. She did have a habit of turning to men in times of need, but those needs were generally physical, not emotional. And while she was past the point of ignoring that she might have a few urges of the physical variety where Riley was concerned, that wasn’t why his name had popped into her mind.

  She couldn’t help but wonder how nice it would be to know his calm, rational, ever-steady presence would always be available to her. She wasted another moment wondering at the concept of having a guy for a buddy, then laughed. “Yeah, that could happen.”

  For someone else maybe. Hell, he was a sheep and she still had the hots for him. She was apparently missing the platonic gene. If she tried to pursue the friendship thing with him, she knew damn well that at some point she’d give in to her inner wolf and seduce him into taking her to bed . . . or up against th
e wall . . . or . . . whatever.

  She had a delicious little shiver of awareness at the thought of him putting his hands on her, taking her as confidently as he’d put her into that limo . . . hell, taking her in the limo. She shook her head with a dry smile and sadly came back to reality. Of course, it wouldn’t be like that, all hot and sweaty and demanding. With Riley it would probably be gentle and caring and maybe wonderful even, in its own way. But as novel as the idea of gentle, caring sex was, or the surprising realization that she might actually enjoy it—once, anyway—at some point it wouldn’t be enough. She’d want more. Harder, faster, stronger. She’d want what it wasn’t in him to give.

  Then she’d be in the awkward position of wishing he was just her friend again and, well, bottom-lining it, she’d end up ruining everything.

  But none of that changed the fact that he was the one she wanted to talk to now. He was the only one she could discuss all of this with and know that instead of panic and overreaction, he’d calmly sort it out and come up with some cool, logical solution. And she would trust his judgment. He would make her feel safe.

  There, she’d gone from ridiculous to insane. She better than most knew it was the height of foolishness to depend on a man like that. Or anyone, for that matter. Look where that had gotten her mother. Where it still had her mother. Traipsing around the globe after the next shoulder to lean on.

  Annoyed with herself for letting those thoughts surface, Tanzy finished off her now watery milkshake and shut her computer down. She wasn’t up to facing emails tonight. She would take a warm shower and climb into bed, maybe dig into a book or flip through a magazine.

  What she wouldn’t do was wander out into the hall and see if the light was still on under Riley’s door.

  Because she’d be knocking on it a moment later. And which Riley would she want to open the door? Friend? Or potential lover?

  “Neither,” she told herself sternly. “Employee. That’s all he is.” All he’ll ever be. The only reason he’s even in your life at all.