The question troubled Roxie. Her father, as Charlie did, had every resource he could think of at his command. Then why not find the recalcitrant daughter? Or the escaped lover if she stepped out on him? What part of the puzzle was she missing?
She was intelligent, educated at an Ivy League school, and yet she couldn’t figure out why men did what they did. She laughed a little at that. Men were, quite probably, the greatest enigma ever.
The neighbors pounded several times on the wall adjoining the kitchen. Or was it the neighbors? Trepidation ran up and down her spine as she remembered the feeling of being watched earlier. Why hadn’t she felt those ominous eyes at Charlie’s as they made love?
She sighed, settled onto her cot with its light throw. Had he been serious about doing a sixty-nine? She’d heard about it, but never tried it. If he asked her again, she’d go for it. But he wouldn’t find her. Then again, she owed Gerry two weeks’ notice. Wouldn’t he turn up a brow at her decision to leave so soon? As for Charlie, she’d have to handle him when he came into the diner.
If he did.
* * * *
Charlie waited in the alley behind Woody’s Diner. He’d quit smoking years ago, but this morning, he’d bought a pack at a convenience store and promptly thrown them away. Instead, he’d opted to suck on a strawberry crème candy he found in his glove compartment. His nerves were on edge, and every muscle in his body was prepared to jump into action. He’d seen the sun rise in muted purple shifting into vivid oranges, but he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling he wasn’t doing enough for Roxie or, as he’d discovered, Elizabeth Audrey Harrier.
He’d described Roxie to Eddie Jansen, wishing instead that he had a photo to email him. It had been a long shot, but after the astute PI sent him several pics, Charlie had found the right woman. Her hair was dark brown, but he’d know those charming blue eyes, and that kissable mouth anywhere.
“How did you know who I was talking about?” he’d asked Eddie who was in Boston.
Eddie had snorted. “You mentioned she was cultured, and that alone ruled out about ninety-eight percent of the population. After that, I ran a crosscheck of society women who’ve gone missing in the last six months, and there you are.”
Sounded easy enough.
“That’s what I pay you for.” Charlie had laughed but became business again in seconds. “Who’s after her that she’s hiding out and afraid to be found?”
He’d heard Eddie riffling through several sheets of paper. Eddie printed everything out and didn’t trust electronic devices much.
“Several suitors, her father and the bodyguards he hired to protect her who, I might add, were doing a lousy job, and… This just popped up, a biker looking fella with a rap sheet longer than your arm.”
Charlie had finished for him. “Otis Rowter. Assault with a deadly weapon.”
“Him’s the one,” the PI had agreed. “I’ve talked to some associates, and the strange thing is that he can’t be found.”
Eddie’s “associates” were on both the right and the wrong side of the law.
“I just did,” Charlie had muttered. “Why is Elizabeth his special project?”
“Looks like her father refused to help him front the medical bills for his only son who was terminally ill. Now he’s on a vendetta of sorts.”
Charlie had rubbed his chin in irritation. “I suppose he’s about to take away Harrier’s only daughter?”
“That’d be my guess.”
Charlie had disconnected, tapping the END button on his cell phone as if it were the enemy. He’d roamed the blocks around the diner half the night, been approached by several winos and a prostitute, but he’d found no sign of Roxie.
Now as he waited between the alley and the cross street, he worried. The sex with her had been phenomenal, and he knew what she was hiding, and why she’d left so quickly last night. She must have been afraid he’d find out who she was.
He saw her then. Her glorious hair tied up in a chignon, the ever-present twinkling earrings, and the jaunty walk as if she were enjoying her moments of freedom. Her pale yellow sheath showed her figure off to perfection. She kept looking up at the sky, but a quick survey told him there was nothing unusual there. Of greater interest to him was if there was someone following her. He stepped further into the alley and watched keenly. The nearby cathedral bells pealed out the mid-morning hour.
About to turn away, Charlie saw a slight flash as of glasses glinting in the sunlight before it vanished. It didn’t reappear. Had it been his imagination?
Roxie was walking closer, a small smile of delight hovering on her lips. Apparently, she was oblivious to the danger she was in.
Should he make his presence known or should he wait? If Rowter was behind her, had he known all along where she lived? Why hadn’t he acted when he’d been alone with Roxie, when he had the chance? Or would Rowter make his move in a public place to get attention for his heinous act?
* * * *
Roxie had spent a restless night, alternately tossing and turning and listening for unfamiliar sounds before she’d fallen asleep and dreamed wicked daydreams about Charlie. Sixty-nine sounded so right, her tongue lapping at the tip of his cock and its pearly drop of moisture. Next, she’d be riding him with her hair flying out in a stiff breeze, then she’d be pinned under him, moaning as his huge shaft filled her until he could no more. As morning light came, the dreams had left her sweating and her mind saturated with erotic images. If Charlie had been anywhere near, she’d have jumped him.
But he wasn’t, and she was determined as she set out for work, that he was part of her past. Yet, it didn’t hurt to satisfy her fantasy longing for him, did it? The cathedral bells were ringing, and although it would make her late for work, she stopped to listen, to admire the sound as it permeated the air. She’d miss this part of her day when she moved to another city, but what choice did she have? None, that she could see.
The aroma of baking bread and pastries surrounded her. The alley lay in dark grayness. For some inexplicable reason, her heart began to race as she remembered the discomfort of perhaps being watched. No one knew she was in L.A. She passed through a heavily shadowed area and jumped when a cardboard box in a leaning garbage pile thudded onto the ground.
It’s only a box, silly. It’s not out to get you.
Yet, the uneasiness and frayed nerves persisted. Maybe she shouldn’t have used the alley to get to work, but what if Charlie was waiting for her in the diner? What would she do?
He was the most glorious male she’d ever seen, and his lovemaking had been beyond what she’d ever experienced.
Roxie drew in a deep breath. She’d enjoy sex with him again.
Elizabeth Audrey! You know you can’t. He might find out who you are, and he might report your whereabouts to your father. You know how connected most people are. They can’t keep a secret.
She heard the faintest tap of a shoe sole hitting the ground ever so softly. Had it come from behind her? Whirling around, she saw nothing. Far away, the labored grinding of a large truck interrupted the heavy silence. Determined to get to the diner and safety there, she straightened her shoulders and smashed into Charlie’s broad chest. She hadn’t noticed him since his muscle shirt was black and his legs were hidden behind a plastic container. The few lines on his handsome face were etched with worry, and his trademark scent, a hint of lemon, wafted by her.
“You’re coming with me,” he told her in an urgent, husky voice. His hand snaked out and seized her wrist.
“I most certainly will not!” she replied, outraged that he could waylay her and demand she go off into the blue yonder with him. She had half a mind to hit him with her duffel bag but restrained herself.
“Listen, Roxie. I know who you really are. Do you want to come with me or do you want your father to find you first?”
That was sure a hell of a choice he was giving. His statement and question alarmed her, and her knees began to tremble with fear.
Charlie’s
hand tightened around her small bone. She clutched her duffel bag in white-knuckled fingers.
“That’s blackmail,” she whispered in dismay. Had the sex been that good that he wanted more and was willing to do anything to get it?
He edged her into deeper shadows. “Listen. I don’t want anyone else to know where you are, and I respect your privacy, but your life is in danger. If you come with me, I can protect you. If you don’t come with me then Rowter will hurt you. His intention is to kill you.” His eyes darted everywhere restlessly.
She shook her head. None of this made sense. “Rowter? Who is he? You’re making this up, aren’t you?”
Charlie fished his cell phone from a small pouch hanging from his belt. “I’m trying to save your life so you can enjoy it however you desire.” He scanned the area behind her and flicked through some photos on his phone, before he lifted it up. “Rowter. The man at the diner. Have you seen him before?”
She squinted. A shiver of dread hurtled down her spine. Was it possible Charlie was telling her the truth?
“He was on the bus with me, all the way from Maine to L.A.”
She hadn’t thought much of it, but he was hefty and always wore a plaid shirt, and she disliked plaid. He hadn’t posed a problem, as far as she’d seen. She might not have liked him, but he hadn’t threatened her.
“That man has been in jail countless times for assault with a deadly weapon. He’s been searching for you.”
Roxie bristled. “He’s not who you say he is. He helped me with my luggage several times. If he intended to hurt me, then why hasn’t he?”
Charlie remained absolutely still, although his eyes were busy scanning the area over her shoulder. “I can’t answer that. I’ll explain in the car.” He began hauling her toward the end of the alley.
“You can show me anyone you want and declare he’s a danger,” she protested, dragging him to a standstill. “I’ve got to get to work.”
Glaring at her, he pursed his lips. His phone rang softly. “Yes?” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers didn’t ease from her arm.
Roxie watched his sensual lips and craved to outline them as she had his eyebrows and his nose. His jaw was rigid and tense. She could meld her body with his, touch his cock, and play with the burgeoning hardness, to watch his gray eyes light up with pleasure.
A garbage truck rounded the corner, its gears grinding harshly. Roxie turned to look.
Without warning, Charlie pulled her in the opposite direction toward the dead-end. “We’ve gotta to get out of here. That’s Rowter, meaning to run both of us over.”
“How do you know?” Roxie dug in her heels. She wasn’t moving until she got some answers. Was Charlie being followed too? Was he in on this? Was that why he could get a call and figure out what was happening?
The truck driver ground the gears again. For all she knew, the garbage disposal vehicle could be picking up the trash in the alley and posed no threat to her whatsoever. Then she heard the engine rev up, and the vehicle sped forward. Metal crumpled against concrete in a horrendous, earsplitting sound. Charlie’s eyes bored into hers as terror took hold of her.
A quick glance at the driver through the darkened window told her that the man at the steering wheel was Rowter. His facial features weren’t set in kind lines either. His lips were curled in a vicious snarl.
Disbelief seized her. Rowter, if that was his name, had never been cruel to her. What had made him change?
Charlie hauled her forward, already at a dead run. “Explain later.”
This isn’t the way she’d expected to die.
Chapter Five
Panic, an unusual emotion for Charlie, threaded through him. His heartbeat accelerated. He could think of a number of ways to breathe his last, but this wasn’t one of them. For a flashing second, he’d seen Rowter up in the cab. His truck would flatten Roxie and himself against the solid wall, and the cops would have to use a spoon to retrieve their bloody remains. He didn’t relish the thought. If only he’d thrown Roxie over his shoulder and run after he’d seen the truck, they wouldn’t be here racing for their lives. He could only fervently hope that the back door of Woody’s diner, or any of the businesses along the alley, were open.
None were and when, panting, he reached the diner with Roxie in tow, he saw the door was firmly closed. He prayed someone on the inside had forgotten to lock it. If they hadn’t, Roxie and he were dead. There was nowhere to run with the heavy truck bearing down on them.
At his side, he saw Roxie’s chest heaving up and down in terror.
Praying as he never had before, Charlie pushed on the door with the scrawled Woody’s Diner. Roxie’s small hand was clenched in his, her nails dug painfully into his palm. The disposal truck was almost upon them. He could smell the oil from the engine, and its grill loomed large. There were only seconds left.
The entrance creaked ajar, and with a hard push, Charlie opened it. He threw Roxie inside, their bodies separating, then followed, his footsteps inaudible as the truck’s gears whined. The door flew off its hinges as the huge vehicle hit it. The sturdy wood cracked resoundingly. Then the big beast came to an abrupt halt past the diner.
The ensuing silence was deafening. Prosecuting many killers, Charlie sensed what was about to happen. Missing them once, Rowter would try a second time, with another, more portable weapon, like a gun.
Roxie pressed her lips together tightly. Her eyes were wide with fear.
His heart wrenching with pain for her sake, Charlie warned her, “He’ll try again, Roxie. We have to keep moving.” He seized her wrist with an urgency that belied his calm words. He felt her shivering, and her muscles tensed. She appeared lost and more frightened than he’d ever before seen a woman.
Tightening his grip, he hauled her through the kitchen. Several employees gaped at them with shocked expressions. “Sorry about the door,” he yelled at Gerry. “Send me the bill.” If I get out of this alive.
Gerry yelled back, “Will do,” then to his employees, he cautioned, “Get down!” The man’s barking tone, which brooked no dissent, caused Charlie to think he might have been in the army at one time. Relieved that the boss would care for those who worked for him, Charlie fled with Roxie a step behind him. In the back of his mind was one persistent, nagging question. Why had Rowter waited so long to get to her?
Roxie hesitated at the kitchen doors inside the diner, which thankfully was empty then dug in her heels. Charlie and she had outrun the garbage disposal truck, but she knew how to take care of herself. Didn’t she? And Charlie seemed to know everything else. Well…she had a big surprise in store for him.
With her free hand, she dug into her duffel bag and retrieved the can of pepper spray she reserved for extreme emergencies. Charlie tugged on her arm, but she wouldn’t budge. She heard Rowter’s heavy footsteps behind her, still blocked by the wall. She gave a glacial frown in Charlie’s direction. “Remember I can handle myself?”
She noted from his frown that he was about to disagree with her, but she cut him off with a perky smile. She wasn’t prepared to run any longer. Rowter would be stopped.
Mutely, Charlie shook his head. She turned her back on him and fell into a crouch. If she didn’t conceal herself, the window glass might give her position away to Rowter. Charlie followed suit. His thighs and the heat of his body felt reassuring.
“I should be taking care of you,” he whispered frantically.
The hurried footsteps were coming closer.
“You did, in the alley,” she told him without turning her head. But now, she would stand up to Rowter. In the far distance, she heard the shriek of emergency vehicles. She’d deal with Rowter then she’d flee for freedom once again. Charles Vernon knew far too much about her. Still, she would enjoy making love to him again if she had the opportunity. Which she wouldn’t get.
Rowter was about to come through the swinging door. His heavy breathing and cumbersome tread tipped her off. She lifted the pepper spray higher,
ready to spring into action. Her aim had to be right the first time. There wouldn’t be a second chance. The door crashed, swinging wide. Roxie leaped up and sprayed. The only sound in the diner was the hiss of the can dislodging its contents.
Rowter screamed. The gun dropped from his hand and clattered on the floor. Charlie pushed it aside with his foot as the injured man began to shriek, “Bitch! I’ll get you yet!”
Rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, he fell and rolled around on the floor in agony.
“You have to find me first,” she murmured, intending to quietly slip away and hoping Charlie wasn’t watching her. With Rowter screaming in pain, and the diner’s employees fixated on him as if he were the most fascinating piece of news they’d seen, it would have been an easy task. But Roxie didn’t count on Charlie.
She ran outside the diner as a police car screeched to a halt on the already hot pavement. She’d run back to her apartment, get her scanty belongings and her bike, and get lost again, making certain no one would find her this time.
Hugging the wall, making herself as inconspicuous as possible in a throng of passersby, she found Charlie at her side. He’d followed her. He wouldn’t easily let her go. He swept her into a big bear hug, squeezing her slender frame. Sunshine lit his midnight hair, accentuating the dark blue strands. She would have pushed him away, but her arms were trapped against his muscled chest, leaving her helpless and unable to do anything more than return his seeming affection. Why hadn’t she slipped out the back? But the chaos in the alley would have frightened her even more, and she couldn’t face that her carefully constructed world was rapidly crumbling.
His voice, raw and harsh, intruded on her dismal thoughts. “Are you planning to run away?”
Every nerve in her frame hummed in resistance, yet, in Charlie’s arms, there was a moment of rest, even though the world around them was disintegrating. The lone police car was now surrounded by several others and an EMT. Roxie discovered her body was shaking, and despite herself, she sank against Charlie and the comfort he provided. Why hadn’t he remained behind to deal with the Rowter episode? Was he protecting her? Was he placing his career at risk?
Charlie's Angel Page 7