The Big Bad Wolf Tells All

by Donna Kauffman

  She prided herself on her personal strength and her self-sufficiency. She didn’t need anyone to make her whole. Sure, Millicent was there to fulfill her familial needs. Her friends were there to fulfill her day-to-day needs. And yes, there was the occasional man to, well, fulfill those other needs. Honestly, what wasn’t to like about that setup?

  And when she got older? Well, she’d just face that when the time came. But not the way her mother had, by trying to entice younger and younger men into her bed as a means of proving something.

  She slumped back in her chair and harrumphed. Why in the hell had Rina dredged all this up now? Didn’t Tanzy have enough on her plate? Of course, when she thought about it, there was no sense in blaming Rina for this sudden wave of self-doubt and discontent. She had to put the blame where it really belonged.

  Squarely on the surprisingly broad shoulders of Riley Parrish.

  It had really started with him. Rina’s wedding, which had left her as the last single in the group, was just part of it. Sure, it had thrown her for a loop. But she’d rebounded, turned it into something positive with her recent column success. Then Riley had come along. And he’d done the unforgivable really. He’d gotten under her skin instead of into her pants.

  And try as she might to blame her little emotional breakdown the other day on outside stresses, it really boiled down to one thing: She wanted Riley. In bed . . . and out of it.

  There. She’d admitted it.

  She wanted a man. For more than sex.

  “Fat lot of good that’s going to do you.” Especially considering that instead of being all cozy back in Big Harry, he was presently sitting in a cold drizzle inside his SUV. She was imagining him in her bed . . . and he was probably trying to devise the fastest way out of this assignment.

  Sure, she could move back to Millicent’s. Or invite him in here. She wasn’t certain which prospect disturbed her more. Millicent had come back home once all was revealed, and while she loved her great-aunt dearly, living with her for more than a long holiday weekend was simply out of the question. And this place was too small to house both her and Riley. She had precisely one bed. And, amazingly enough, she didn’t want him in it.

  Okay, that was a total lie. Of course she wanted him in it. Had dreamed about it. Hot, sweaty dreams, in fact. And yeah, there’d been a little of that urban-myth action in there as well. She shifted in her seat. Just thinking about it made her twitchy. But, fantasy marathon sex notwithstanding, for the first time in her whole life she realized that going to bed with a man would actually make the situation worse, not better.

  And why is that? her inner voice pestered.

  She ignored the little pain in the ass. It wasn’t because she was afraid she’d never want to let him out again. Although that scenario did have a little something going for it.

  It was that, for once, maybe she didn’t want to skip directly past Go. If she did, she had this feeling she’d miss out on the best part. Which meant that Rina might actually have a point. Tanzy just might want to explore having a relationship outside of sex with him, and if she jumped into bed with him right off, it was likely the rest would be over before it could go any further. That’s the way she operated. Because the continued intimacy of sex carried all sorts of other complications along with it. Like expectations.

  And there was no going back, pretending they didn’t have carnal knowledge of each other. Which meant if she wanted Riley as a friend, she had to keep him out of her bed.

  Of course, given that he was proving to be as frank with his opinions as she was with hers, it was highly probable they’d want to kill each other inside ten minutes anyway. And all this mental tap dancing ignored the simple fact that she might not be able to get him into bed, even if she wanted to. A revelation that did not give her as much comfort as she’d hoped.

  He’d wanted her. Of that she could be certain. At least for the odd moment here and there. Some of them very odd. She thought back to his very disconcerting and totally unwolflike revelation that what did it for him was her in a faded Niners jersey and worn-out bunny slippers.

  She refused to be endeared to him because of that.

  But ultimately his professionalism would have probably precluded him from doing anything horizontal, or vertical for that matter, that involved removal of clothing.

  All of which left her up here in her office, trying to do her job, while he sat down there, trying to do his.

  With a huff of resignation, she sat forward, fingers on the keys, and resolutely faced the blank monitor. What to Do About Riley would have to wait. She had a deadline to meet.

  “Thank you, God,” she whispered in relief.

  Friends and lovers. It seems such a simple concept and yet it’s one I’ve never been able to master. Not with the same person, anyway. Admittedly, I’ve never been all that interested in trying. I have friends. I have the occasional lover. Mixing the two always seemed to be borrowing trouble. So much better to keep them separate, then everyone understands what’s expected of them. No muss, no fuss. And you always know who to call for what.

  Chapter 14

  Have you closed this one yet?” Finn asked via cell phone.

  “Still working on it, Dad.”

  “Well, stretch it out, boyo. Might as well live the high life for a bit longer, eh?”

  Riley watched the raindrops track down the windows of his truck. “Yeah, right.” He hadn’t told his father about the recent change in his assignment. He didn’t feel particularly compelled to, either. His father didn’t care how the job got done as long as it got done and the checks came in. “What about you? Things wrapping up there?”

  “Well, that’s why I called.” He hesitated, then asked, “You need me to come in and help out?”

  Riley shook his head, didn’t bother to sigh. “No, I’ve got it under control. You staying in Santa Rosa, then?”

  “For a bit longer, I’m thinking.”

  Considering everything, he should just keep his mouth shut. Apparently he was incapable. “Dad, do you really think this is wise? I mean, the assignment was to—”

  “I’m quite clear on my assignment. I don’t need any lectures from you, boyo. You just leave me to mind my own.”

  Riley could have pointed out that leaving him to mind his own was exactly what had driven him to the brink of losing everything. And continued to be an obstacle to their finding continued success. His father should have been born with a trust fund. Unfortunately, he’d trusted in his son’s pro career instead. But there was no point in trying to get his father to be fiscally responsible. It was always going to be up to Riley. One way or the other. “Did you send the package in on the Gordon case? Silverman also called asking for specifics about what the two of you set up.”

  “I’m on top of it, don’t you worry. You take care of yours. Speaking of which,” Finn added, the defensive posturing disappearing in a wink, as it always did, replaced by the charming Irish rogue that saved his father’s bacon on a regular basis. “How is she going? Made any headway?”

  Normally Riley would shake his head in weary disgust at his father’s sly innuendo. This time, however, he felt the heat creep up the back of his neck. His father couldn’t have any clue about the internal battles Riley had been waging with himself . . . and his wandering libido, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty for having them. Still, he responded as he always did, by pretending the question was strictly about business. “We were hoping to match up a latent print, but the suspect’s employer doesn’t keep them on file. They do keep photo IDs, though. I’m getting copies along with the complete employee list. We’ll at least get some faces to work with. We have a second suspect as well. The man she works for. I’m working on getting a print from him to see if it’s a match.”

  “Good, good,” Finn replied assuredly, though Riley knew he couldn’t care in the least. It wasn’t his case, after all. “What about the skirt?” Finn pressed with a chuckle. “Gotten a peek at what’s beneath it yet, eh?
”

  Now the disgust came honestly. Riley might be wrestling with “like father, like son” issues regarding his growing attraction to a client, but hearing his father reduce that attraction to the same kind of tawdry liaison he’d indulge in himself only served to piss him off.

  It also clarified better than Riley could have on his own the distinct and permanent difference between the two men and their approach to the opposite sex. It was a defining moment, bordering on profound. He didn’t, however, thank his father for his unwitting paternal assistance.

  “Listen, Dad, I have a call coming in. Just let me know when you’ll be getting back in town.”

  Finn sighed, clearly disappointed. “You behave like it’s a sin to indulge in a little of what God put us on this green earth to enjoy. We have things hard enough, no? Don’t be so high and mighty. It hurts a lot more when you fall.” He merely chuckled when his bit of wisdom was met with stony silence. “You always were a tough one. Like your ma that way, you are, God rest her soul.”

  Not for the first time Riley wondered if Finn’s focus would have remained on hearth and home, not to mention business, if Mary Theresa Parrish had lived past Riley’s first year in high school. Riley had buried his grief on the gridiron. Finn had buried his between the legs of other women. He wondered if that was still his dad’s excuse now, but had no interest in finding out.

  “I’ll call when I’m back in town,” Finn went on. “But don’t expect me until after the holidays.”

  Finn rang off, leaving Riley as he usually did, feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Dad,” Riley muttered. For the millionth time he found himself wishing he was more impervious to his father’s regard for him. But no matter how old he was, no matter how well categorized his father’s failings, no matter that his road was the better one to take, he knew Finn could still plink him with the parental-guilt thing, and far too easily.

  Tamping down the urge to smack something, Riley punched a number into his cell phone instead. “Hey, J.B.,” he said when the young man answered.

  “Coach. Long time, no see. What, you can’t talk to us now that we’re out of contention?”

  Riley grinned, quite relieved to put his conversation with Finn behind him. “I’ve been busy. Sorry to hear you guys got knocked out of postseason. Figured you might like to put your newly acquired free time to some use, earn a little Christmas money.” Riley had a few players from SFSU he kept on call for occasional assistance with cases. Some knew of him from when he played, some didn’t, but like all aspiring jocks, they liked being around someone who’d achieved the ultimate dream; an alumnus who’d made it to the pros. Didn’t matter to them that here he was, a few years later, his knee shot and struggling to earn a living. He’d played with the big boys, and they were sure if they ever got the chance, they’d make it last a lifetime.

  For his part, he enjoyed the connection with them, seeing that hunger and drive. Helped him keep a healthier perspective on his achievements, not focus on what he’d lost. Or so he told himself anyway.

  “We missed you at the gym the past couple of weeks. What hot case you on? Who you protecting, someone famous?”

  Riley smiled. Everything seemed so much bigger and more dramatic when you were twenty. “I should be back after the holidays. Just in time to whip your sorry postseason-lacking asses back into shape.”

  “That’s just harsh, man,” J.B. said, but the affection was clear in his tone.

  “Hey, I’m simply trying to prepare you. You think life is tough playing college ball, you don’t know shit.” He could just see J.B. rolling his eyes. That was the other thing about being twenty, you thought you knew every last thing. Riley’s smile grew as he realized he was thankful to be reminded that being thirty-two and still not knowing shit wasn’t that bad after all. “Listen, I need you to pick up and deliver a package for me.” He told him where to pick it up, then gave him the address of the corner nearest to where he was presently sitting. “Sometime in the next hour if you can do it.”

  “I’m on it, Coach.”

  Riley hung up, shaking his head. The moniker had begun as an “old guy” joke, but as more guys began to look to him as a kind of mentor, at least in the weight room and during the occasional pickup game, it had stuck. Grinning, he stretched, then winced and swore when his knee protested painfully. “Oh yeah, being thirty-two is sooo much better.”

  He glanced up at Tanzy’s office window. She wasn’t peeking out at the moment, trying to be cute with the little grins and the occasional wave. Sitting in the chilly rain, knee cramping, he hadn’t been in the mood to respond in kind. Now he thought about simply storming the fortress. She hadn’t offered, but he’d bet she wouldn’t refuse.

  And the reason she’d let him in was exactly the reason he was still sitting in his truck.

  After another look up at her window, he glanced at his watch, figured he had enough time to boot up before meeting J.B. Ernie should have something for him by now.

  Angling his body so he could keep an eye on her row house, he connected his computer to his Palm Pilot and logged on to get his email. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if FishNet had digitized their photo file. Then they could have just emailed it to him. Or he could have had Ernie hack it for him so he wouldn’t have had to deal with the FishNet CEO at all. He shuddered thinking about that call.

  Lori Sack was her name, and boy did she have a major chip on her shoulder. He had no idea why she was taking it out on him, but it didn’t take long to figure out his Y chromosome played a large role in the matter.

  He’d hoped to bypass her as they had up to this point. Ernie had been flying below their radar, extracting the information he needed so they wouldn’t have to announce their involvement. If SoulM8 was a FishNet employee, Riley didn’t want to risk giving him any indication that they were tracking him. The fact that the perv kept changing his account info, always with a false name and address, told him the guy was either paranoid or had a pretty good clue that Tanzy wasn’t going to take his devoted act lying down—figuratively or literally—and would hire someone to look into it.

  They’d managed to continue behind the scenes with the fingerprinting issue by contacting FishNet’s personnel director. Riley had made the anonymous call, asking about their employment and hiring procedures and if they printed or drug-tested their employees. He didn’t really care about the drug question, but knew it would divert the personnel manager from the fingerprint info he really wanted. As planned, she assumed he was some guy looking for a job where he didn’t have to give a sample at the office. Disgusted, she’d curtly informed him they ran a complete criminal and drug history on all new hires and therefore didn’t need to fingerprint them if they passed.

  So, with the print comparison a bust, Riley’s second choice was a list of employees and, hopefully, photo IDs. But Ernie couldn’t extract what wasn’t there. Not that it was all that surprising FishNet didn’t store stuff like that on their mainframe. Many firms, especially those directly involved with Internet service, went out of their way to hackproof company information. Riley shook his head. Hack all you wanted into their clients’ information—what did they care?—but God forbid you tiptoe through their personnel or business files.

  Which had forced the call directly to Ms. Sack. He made her aware of what he suspected and asked for her cooperation so they wouldn’t have to involve the police. Usually just the mention of the cops was enough to get assistance. No one wanted that hassle if they could avoid it. Ms. Sack, however, wasn’t afraid of a little hassle. In fact, she demanded to know why he was the one pursuing this instead of the police. Her position was that if they didn’t take the case seriously, why should she?

  After patiently explaining how stalking cases worked and how little the police, by law, could actually do about it, he’d pushed hard on the issue of a woman’s right to protect herself—which, given her tone, was a subject she felt strongly about—and made it clear that if anyth
ing happened to his client, he’d be more than happy to point the finger at her, ringleader of the She-Woman Man-Haters Club. So, okay, he didn’t use exactly that term, but it had put a chink in her self-righteous armor.

  She’d grudgingly agreed to give up a list of names, but had held steadfast on the pictures and address and phone number info. He didn’t care about the latter. With a name, Ernie could get him the personal info. But the pictures were crucial to the rest of his plan. Fortunately Ernie had also done some digging on Ms. Lori Sack. Background information that at the time had seemed useless. But given her rather open hostility toward the opposite sex, Riley didn’t think she’d want it to get out that she’d once applied to be a contestant on The Bachelor. Like she had a chance in hell, he thought, having seen her publicity photo on the FishNet website. Now, Survivor he could see her on. And winning the million. Hands down. But a dating show?

  He still hadn’t figured that one out, but now that she’d set herself up in this new business venture, going brass to balls with the big boys, she wasn’t all that keen on having that information broadcasted, either. She did subject him to a blistering tirade on men’s continued subjugation of women—which he privately began to think was exactly what she really wanted, complete with leather bondage gear and a riding crop—but she gave him what he wanted.

  Not his best day. But he’d gotten the job done. He also knew he’d burned that bridge, so whatever he got from this information was pretty much going to be his last shot at proving a direct link between SoulM8 and FishNet. Which would shift the focus entirely back to Martin. Martin, whose fingerprints Tanzy kept promising, but not delivering on.

  He was working up an alternate plan for obtaining them himself, but had been busy working with Ernie on collecting additional information on possible fresh leads. Millicent had been able to give him a guest list to the charity ball. Ernie was working on getting a list of the wait staff, doormen, and valets who had worked during the event. If they were very lucky, when they cross-referenced those names with the employee list from FishNet they would get a hit. Hopefully SoulM8 was arrogant enough to think no one would make that particular connection. Riley was banking on it.