by Lisa Jackson
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out!” She slapped the order into his hand, tried to ignore his I-didn’t-do-nuthin’ expression, and grabbed the plate of drinks for her table, even remembering the small pitcher of nonfat milk. After depositing the drinks at Dr. Croft’s table, she took their food orders, then stopped by several other tables as well, including a surprise birthday party for an elderly woman with a walker who had trouble understanding the Shakespearean lingo her equally old, but spry, husband found so amusing. Somehow the cook-cum-electrician got the oven working again and with him on the line, orders came up faster and tables could be turned. Even Frick-Finn, after a scolding, pulled his act together.
All the while she worked, Kristi felt as if the professors in the diner were watching her. She passed by their table several times and heard snatches of conversation.
“…might have to make a few changes…” Natalie Croft said as she bit into her beignet and wiped the extra honey from the corner of her mouth.
A few minutes later, she was still speaking. “…well, I know, but it was Father Tony’s idea. Trying to make the school more interesting and Grotto’s a natural. I don’t know why Anthony’s so insistent that we continue with the courses, but it is popular….” She lowered her voice as Kristi stopped by to refill the coffee cups.
The conversation caught Kristi’s interest but she couldn’t eavesdrop as her tables, though clustered near each other, were filled with noisy patrons needing service. However as she carried out trays of plated food, refilled glasses and tallied up bills, she noticed that the three professors were deep in discussion, serious and unsmiling. They declined dessert, gave her a reasonable tip, and left as the crowd finally began to thin.
She was about to close out her section when Jay strolled into the restaurant, big as life. He spoke with the hostess and landed one of the small two-person tables in her part of the restaurant.
Kristi propped one fist against her hip. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Didn’t get much to eat at your place,” he said with a wink.
“Neither did I.” She’d been so busy she hadn’t noticed how hungry she was, but now that things had slowed down, her stomach rumbled.
“So what do you suggest?”
“That you wait for me outside and take me somewhere else for lunch.”
“Better yet, we’ll order from the to-go menu and take it back to your place. There’s something I want to show you.”
“Give me fifteen minutes to close out the section,” she said as he scraped back his chair, catching the evil eye from the hostess who had seated him specifically where he’d requested.
Kristi finished up in no time, untied her apron, tossed it into the laundry hamper, and waved good-bye to Ezma, who was pulling a double shift. A few minutes later, getting soaked by the rain, she steered her bike to Jay’s pickup, tossed it into the back, and pushed Bruno out of the way as she climbed inside. The cab was already filled with the spicy scent of tomatoes, garlic, and seafood. “Don’t tell me, the hostess suggested the jambalaya.”
“Sounded good.” Jay backed out of his parking space while Bruno shifted on her lap and they headed to her apartment.
Just like a married couple, she thought idly while the windshield wipers battled the rain. The husband comes and picks up his wife after work.
“I was late for my shift today,” she said as the radio played some country song, “because I stopped by Wagner House.” She gave him a quick, abbreviated version of what had happened and Jay listened quietly as he drove the short distance to Kristi’s place. When she’d finished, ending with Father Mathias’s warning, his expression was sober. “Maybe it’s time we went to the police.”
“With what? Some kind of warning about me not trespassing? I don’t think either Georgia Clovis—oh, excuse me, Georgia Wagner Clovis—and Father Mathias Glanzer are any big threats.”
“I’ve met Georgia,” he said. “I wouldn’t underestimate her.”
“You met her?”
“At one of the faculty/administration meet and greets. She was there, along with her sister and brother.” He glanced at Kristi. “As far as I could tell, there’s no love lost between the Wagner heirs. They avoided each other all night. Georgia seems like the alpha dog of the group.”
“Is that your way of calling her a bitch?”
One side of his mouth twitched. “The rest of the clan wasn’t all that much better. Her brother, Calvin, looked uncomfortable as hell, as if he were at the get-together under duress, and the younger sister, Napoli, kept to herself, but I had the distinct feeling she didn’t miss much. An odd group. All hung up on being ‘Wagners’ like the name held the same weight as Rockefeller or Kennedy.”
“Like them, did you?” she teased.
“They were a laugh riot.”
She grinned and scratched Bruno behind his ears. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I have to work this afternoon. Grade some papers.”
She groaned, knowing hers would be among them. “Give me an A plus, would ya? I could use one.”
“I told you I’m grading you the hardest.”
“Hmmm. What can I do…to change your mind?”
His lips curved and he pretended to think hard for a minute. “I’ll take sex.”
“Sex for an A plus?”
“No. I’ll just take sex.”
Kristi made a strangled sound. “I’m not that easy, Professor McKnight. You might want to call Mai Kwan. She was all about you this morning. I think she’s got a crush.”
“A ‘crush,’” he repeated thoughtfully. “How about you…Student Bentz?”
“Nah.”
“You’re a bad liar. You’ve got a major crush on me.”
“A complete fabrication.”
He grinned like a dope and she had to look away, her heart tripping over itself with stupid joy. All too fast she knew she was falling in love with Jay, something she’d sworn to herself she would never do. And damn it, he knew it. She saw it in the smug smile that settled over his sexy, in-serious-need-of-a-shave jaw. Damn him to hell and back.
Adjusting the wipers to a quicker pace, he said, “So, I thought I’d work from your place.”
Kristi smiled faintly. The thought of being cooped up with him for the rest of the afternoon with rain beating on the eaves, maybe a fire in the grate, sounded like heaven. She needed a break, needed to quit thinking about missing girls and vampires and vials of blood. “Sounds good.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll look very studious, very professorish on camera.”
“On camera?”
“Yeah, film,” he said enigmatically, obviously enjoying her consternation as he turned a corner and the apartment house came into view.
“You want me to, what? Take a movie of you? I don’t have a video camera and even if I did, I really don’t have time—”
“Not you.”
“What’re you talking about?”
The truck bumped its way into the parking lot and Jay pulled into an open space by her car, then cut the engine. “You’ll see,” he said, and suddenly there wasn’t a trace of laughter in his eyes. “Come on up.”
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”
“You should. But whatever you do, just act natural when we’re inside, don’t ask any questions.” He handed her the sack of food as she opened her door and Bruno hopped to the ground. “Take this. I’ll get the bike.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothin’ good.”
He was right behind her as they climbed the stairs and she unlocked the door to her unit. Inside, everything appeared just the way she’d left it. He parked her bike near the door as she dropped the bag and her backpack onto the coffee table. “Are you going to tell me why the hell you’ve been acting so weird?”
“I just couldn’t wait to get you home,” he said, pulling her close. In her ear, he whispered, “Play along.” Then said in a norm
al voice, “Didn’t I loan you a textbook, you know, the one on DNA analysis?”
“What book?” she asked, but he was already looking at the bookcase near the fireplace.
“The one you promised you’d bring back, oh…I think I see it.” He smiled and slapped her playfully on the butt, then headed to the other side of the room.
Wondering what the hell he was up to, Kristi did as he asked, opening the bags, removing the cartons, and locating spoons and napkins. From the corner of her eye, she watched Jay walk to the very corner of the room, hoist himself onto the bottom half of the bookcase and prop some of her books up against the fireplace.
“Here we go,” he said while she scooped the jambalaya onto their plates. He shoved several books closer to the fireplace, then wiggled a brick loose from its place to expose what appeared to be a black box, the size of a cell phone or pager.
She started to say something but caught him shaking his head. What the hell had he found?
Tara’s cell phone?
Then why all the secrecy?
A pager?
Pocket recorder?
Her blood froze in her veins. Had someone been recording her conversations? She thought back to all the conversations she’d had, one-sided on the phone, or…Oh, no, last night with Jay…!
“I guess you don’t have it,” he said, replacing the brick and hopping to the floor. “I’ll get it later. Let’s eat…. Hey, how about some music? You have a radio?”
“My iPod player.”
“Good.” He found the player, clipped in the iPod, and turned the volume up loud enough to cover any of their conversation. Stomach in knots, shock giving way to anger, she sat on the edge of the daybed, and he pulled the big chair up to the opposite side of the coffee table, his back to the fireplace.
“You’ve been bugged,” he said, hunched over the spicy seafood and rice dish, his voice barely audible over the music. “That little black box is a camera.”
She nearly dropped her fork. Someone had been watching her, was trying to see her even now? As she studied, or watched television or slept or…Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she looked up at Jay and wanted to fall through the floor.
“State of the art,” he said.
She wanted to die a thousand deaths as she thought that all last night, while she and Jay were making love, someone might have been watching. Recording their every touch or kiss. Getting off while they were in the middle of what she’d thought was a private, intimate night.
She thought she might be sick.
Jay nodded as if he could read her thoughts. “Even though we didn’t know about it, you and I just made our first sex tape. How’s that for dirty pool?”
CHAPTER 21
Oh. My. God.
Kristi couldn’t believe her ears. Someone was actually using a hidden video to tape her? The contents of her stomach curdled. “This is insane!” she sputtered, keeping her voice low just in case Jay wasn’t pulling her leg.
“Laugh like I just said something funny,” he instructed, tucking in a forkful of jambalaya.
While her home was being bugged, she was supposed to act as if she were amused? But Jay, she could see, was serious. She managed a weak, stupid laugh, but her heart wasn’t in it. Kristi had seen a lot in her twenty-seven years. Her father was a homicide detective and all her life she’d been exposed to his cases. Some more than others. Then there was the fact that her life had been threatened more than once and she’d almost died recently, but never had she felt so coldly violated, so maliciously used as at this moment in time.
“Someone’s been watching me?” she whispered, anger burning through her.
“Uh-huh, and, unless I miss my guess, they might have done the same to Tara Atwater as well.”
She wanted to kill the bastard behind the camera. For the love of God, what had he seen? Pictures of the last few days flipped through her brain: She saw herself walking naked from the bathroom to the bedroom, or exercising, dancing like a ninny when a great song came on her iPod, studying at her desk. Then, of course, last night when she was lost in the throes of passion, moaning, crying out, begging for more while she and Jay lay entwined and sweating on the bed. To think some twisted voyeur watched as they made love! Her skin crawled, then flushed hot with embarrassment. “Who?” she demanded.
“That’s what I intend to find out,” he said, and she had to strain to hear him over the music. “It’s a remote camera. I don’t know how much range it has, but the receiver could be anywhere. I made sure I put a book over the lens, so I’m banking that whoever it is will try to get back in here and move things so that his view isn’t compromised. I checked around and I think that there’s only one camera.”
“What?” She withered inside. “You thought there could be more?”
“Of course there could, but they’re not cheap. Someone would have to be pretty intent on spying. I thought maybe the bathroom, but it looks clean.”
“This is outrageous.” She wanted to leave. Pick up everything that belonged to her and get the hell out.
“I couldn’t chance taking out the batteries without jostling the camera and letting whoever it is who’s watching us know we’re on to him.”
“So what’re we going to do?”
“Wait,” he said, and that only infuriated her. She wanted action. Now. To get back at the spying bastard and quick. “Two can play at this game.” He was scooping up his jambalaya so calmly she wanted to scream. His plate was almost empty.
“I’m not great at waiting or pretending.”
“I know. But all you have to do is just act natural.”
“Oh, right.” Like that would happen.
“Or we could go to the police.” His voice was still hushed while the music played loudly and he’d stopped eating long enough to stare at her and evaluate her reaction. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to let the pros handle this now, and don’t—” he said, cutting her off before she began, “suggest that I am a pro. We both know that I’m bending the rules as it is. The smart thing to do would be to call the police, and have them dust for prints as we hand them the vial of blood. Yeah, they might seal this place off and confiscate all of your stuff, but you’ve backed up the computer.”
“You said something about waiting. And ‘two playing at this game.’ What’s that mean?”
He grinned and she felt a little better. The gleam in his eye told her he’d considered the options. “Let’s step outside.” Loudly, he said, “Okay, Bruno, I get it, you need to do your business. Come on.” He whistled sharply and headed for the door with the dog and Kristi on his heels. Stepping onto the porch, he looked up to the rafters of the overhang. Following his gaze with her own, she squinted and saw what he meant. Tucked between the spider webs and old wasp’s nests, mounted over the door just above the porch light, was a tiny black box much like the one that was mounted in the bookcase near the fireplace.
“I decided that if he comes back, we’ll get his mug on video.”
“That’s your camera? Where do you view it?”
“My place, actually Aunt Colleen’s. We’ll go there and wait tonight. So you might want to bring your computer and sleeping bag. Deluxe accommodations, it’s not.”
“As long as we nail the bastard.”
“And just in case we don’t get a clear picture, I’ve got another camera mounted over the window in the kitchen, looking straight at the fireplace. When he turns to leave, we’ll get him.”
“You’ve been busy,” she said admiringly.
“Thanks.”
“He has to be someone who has access…probably Hiram?” She thought of Irene Calloway’s big grandson. He really didn’t seem to have the brainpower to pull off something like this. And Irene? Would she really spy on her tenants?
“He’s at the top of my list, but I’m going to do some checking. I got the name and model number of the camera. Like I said, state of the art, so I’m going to find out who bought one in the last eighteen months or so.”
�
��By using your connections with the police?”
“See, you are a bright girl,” he teased, obviously not concerned that their little lovemaking session might turn up on YouTube or MySpace or God-only-knew what video-sharing site on the Internet. Someone who recognized her could even send it to her father’s e-mail account.
She winced at the thought.
“Relax,” Jay said, as if reading her thoughts. “The lights were out last night. I don’t think it’s an infrared camera.”
“Oh, God.” She hadn’t thought of that. Nor did she want to consider that whoever this techno-geek might be, he could be sophisticated enough to enhance the video imagery.
Things were rapidly going from bad to worse.
Jay reached for the door. “So, let’s both go inside and let him know that you won’t be around tonight, give him plenty of opportunity.”
They reentered and Kristi glanced toward the camera, still blocked by her books. They both made a big fuss about the dog and returned to their spots. Jay turned off the music and they talked about everything and nothing, then made plans to go to “his place” without giving out any specifics. She packed her things, including her computer, sleeping bag, the necklace with the vial they found, the bike, and a change of clothes.
Since she intended to attend Father Mathias’s morality play and Jay had a dinner meeting with the head of his department, they took separate cars through the rain to the address Jay had written on a business card and slipped to her, thus avoiding anyone overhearing where they would be staying. It was also important that she take her car so that her own personal voyeur would realize the Honda wasn’t parked in its usual spot, and he would feel safer and hopefully take the opportunity to break inside and reposition his equipment.
The thought of him skulking around her place, maybe searching through her drawers and touching her underwear, made her shiver. Who was the guy?
She thought about the sicko who got off watching her, as she followed Jay’s truck through the rain-washed streets. Had the pervert watched Tara? Had he learned her routine and plotted her abduction, all with the help of his little camera? Did he have tapes of the other missing girls? Did he keep those tapes for his personal use, his twisted enjoyment, or, worse yet, had he made them public, placed them on the Internet?