Cinderella's Secret Agent

by Ingrid Weaver

  Maggie didn’t need to see him to be aware of his presence. These past few weeks while he had shared her apartment with her, whenever he was near she felt a warm glow in the pit of her stomach and the core of her bones.

  Six weeks ago she hadn’t known his last name. Wasn’t it too soon to think about love?

  On the other hand, six weeks ago she had known Delilah for less than a day. Her heart didn’t have a timetable. Love simply happened.

  So, was she in love with Del?

  Nothing had really changed. He still was planning to leave when his work in New York was over. He still was maddeningly private about so many things. He had never talked about commitment. The odds were stacked against a future together. It would be risky to take a chance on loving him. She would probably end up falling flat on her face.

  Yes, well, she had never paid much attention to the odds before, had she? Life was meant to be lived. If she hadn’t believed in taking chances, she wouldn’t be able to stand here today on two healthy legs. She wouldn’t have known Delilah.

  The brightly lit waiting room was filled with strangers and the sporadic fussing of tired babies, yet it all faded from her consciousness as Maggie stood very, very still and watched Del’s strong hands tenderly cradle her child. The wave of certainty that surged over her was so strong, it made her shudder.

  Oh, yes. She loved him.

  Del opened his eyes, his gaze finding hers as if he could sense her presence as easily as she sensed his. He picked up Delilah’s diaper bag from the floor beside him and rose to his feet. “Are you ready?”

  Oh, yes. She was not only ready, she was willing and able. And tonight, when Delilah was asleep and the two of them were alone, she would show him how much. Maggie smiled and took his arm.

  “‘Something wicked this way comes,’” Bill murmured, lifting the binoculars to his eyes.

  Del grunted. Shakespeare again. But he couldn’t argue with Bill’s choice of quotation. Through the light drizzle that streaked the car windows, he could see Herbert Hull step onto the sidewalk. The dented steel door swung shut behind him as he paused to ogle the glossy teaser photos of the performers displayed under the marquee.

  The former Marine sniper was keeping to his usual schedule this afternoon. He had shot a few games of pool and had his typical lunch of beer, nuts and pickled eggs before coming to this peep show. True to habit, he had required far less time to finish his business at the peep show than he had to finish his beer.

  Since the day Hull had used the laser range finder to index his shots, he had been steering clear of the apartment near the UN, but something was definitely going to happen soon—SPEAR intelligence had observed a number of Simon’s known associates arriving in the city. In his last briefing tape, Jonah had ordered the agents to double-team all the suspects. At this point, SPEAR didn’t want to lose track of anyone who could turn out to be a key player in Simon’s plans.

  “Is Horton in place?” Bill asked as Hull started down the sidewalk.

  Del looked at the doorway of the adjacent building. A small man in a ragged sweater, a brown paper bag containing a bottle clutched in his hand, a grimy baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, sat huddled against the rain. As Hull passed by, the derelict staggered to his feet and wove away in the same direction. “Yeah, he’s got him.”

  “I don’t see Lamere.”

  A white van drove past and turned at the next corner. “She just went by.”

  “All right. They’ll take over from here.” Bill put down the binoculars and pulled his pipe out of his jacket pocket.

  Del drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Something’s going to break soon,” he muttered. “I can feel it.”

  “Patience, my man. ‘They also serve who only stand and—’”

  “Shut up, Bill,” Del said mildly.

  Bill chuckled and filled the pipe bowl with tobacco.

  Del started the car, then cracked open a window to let the pipe smoke drift out. A passing delivery truck splashed past, throwing up a sheet of spray. Bill chuckled again as Del wiped his face and switched on the wipers.

  He was about to pull away from the curb when Del saw a man in a tan trench coat hurry past on the sidewalk, a black umbrella over his head. Del frowned and followed his progress toward the topless bar across the street from the peep show Hull had just exited. The man seemed to be too well-dressed for this seedy neighborhood—he was probably some executive type who wanted to walk on the wild side. The trench-coated man closed his umbrella and looked over his shoulder nervously. Del had no more than a split second glimpse of the man’s face, but it was enough.

  “I don’t believe it,” Del muttered.

  “What?” Bill asked, looking up.

  “That was Alan Blackthorn.”

  “Blackthorn? The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “He’s Maggie’s old boyfriend.”

  “That married guy who ran out on her?”

  “Yeah. I had SPEAR intelligence run a check on him. They said he’s been going to strip clubs on his lunch hour. What are the chances of him showing up here?”

  “Where does he work?”

  “An insurance company on Forty-second Street.”

  “Then the chances are pretty good. That’s only a few blocks from here. Why did you do the check?” Bill lowered his pipe, his expression losing amiability. “Is the bastard bothering Maggie?”

  “You guessed it. He wants to pick up where they left off.”

  “She strikes me as too intelligent a woman to get taken in by him again.”

  “She is. But each time he calls it upsets her.” Del pondered his options. So far, he had shielded Maggie from Alan’s persistence, but he wouldn’t be able to run interference for her indefinitely.

  The idea of roughing Alan up was tempting, but that would be more for Del’s satisfaction than Maggie’s. Throwing around his weight as a SPEAR operative was tempting, too, but besides compromising the agency, using that approach would be overkill. Alan was a nuisance, not a threat.

  Still, this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Del turned off the engine and reached for the door handle. “Wait here.”

  “No problem. What are you going to do?”

  “Alan doesn’t seem to take it seriously when he hears no over the phone. Maybe I can find a way to make him pay attention in person.”

  “Let me know if I can be of assistance,” Bill said.

  “Thanks. I might do that.”

  Del turned up the collar of his windbreaker, hunching his shoulders against the drizzle as he strode toward the bar. Even though the day was dull with a low overcast, the interior of the bar was many times darker. Rock music throbbed through the dimness as Del paused inside the entrance to give his eyes a chance to adjust.

  Alan sat at a table in the far corner. He hadn’t taken off his coat. A bored-looking waitress moved toward him, her full breasts gleaming red in the light over the bar. Her face was carefully made up and her hair teased to alarming heights, but Alan didn’t lift his gaze above her neck.

  The sight of all that naked flesh didn’t affect Del in the slightest. He kept his gaze on Alan as he crossed the room, pulled a hundred from his pocket and held it out to the waitress. “Take a break, miss,” he said.

  “Now, just a minute,” Alan began.

  The woman placed the beer on the table, then plucked the bill from Del’s fingers and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt. “Sure thing, hon,” she said, walking away. “Whatever gets you off.”

  Del pushed the table to one side and slid into the seat beside Alan, boxing him in against the wall. “Hello, Mr. Blackthorn. Remember me?”

  For a moment all that showed on Alan’s features was irritation, then suddenly recognition dawned. “You! What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Del said. “But I don’t really want to know. You turn my stomach enough as it is.”

  “What I do is none of your business.”

  �
��When it concerns Maggie it is. She asked you to leave her alone. I’d like you to do it.”

  Alan shifted as if he were about to stand up. “I don’t have to listen to this. She liked my company well enough before. Maybe you’re just jealous because you want her for yourself.”

  Despite his resolve to simply talk to Alan, Del felt a sudden spurt of anger. He clamped his hand over Alan’s wrist and twisted just enough to make the bones squeak. “The last time I saw you, I wanted to break your arm. I didn’t because it would have upset Maggie. She isn’t here now, and I don’t think your new D-cup friend over there would care if I took you apart and mailed the pieces to a blood bank.” He released his grip and wiped his hand on his pants leg. “Do I have your attention?”

  Alan paled and rubbed his wrist.

  “Good,” Del said. “You’ve been married, what? Twenty years? And you have a son and a daughter, right?”

  “What? How do you know that?”

  “You haven’t been as clever as you think you are. Secrets have a way of coming out.”

  In the dim light, the sweat that broke out on Alan’s forehead looked oily. He stared at Del. “What’s this going to cost me?”

  “Cost you?”

  He reached for his beer mug and took a quick gulp. “How much do you want to keep your mouth shut?”

  Del scowled impatiently. “I’m not interested in your money, Alan. I’m trying to make a point. You have a wife and two healthy children who need a stable home. Instead of spending your time and energy chasing after young women to give your ego a boost out of your mid-life crisis, why don’t you work on your marriage?”

  Alan’s jaw slackened with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Listen, Alan,” Del said, leaning closer. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re a piece of scum because of the way you took advantage of a kindhearted woman like Maggie, but she must have seen some goodness in you at one time. I’m hoping that she wasn’t all wrong, that underneath your silk suit and bad hair weave you’ve still got a few ounces of decency.”

  Alan blinked and touched his fingertips to his hair, as if to check it was still there.

  “You must still care about your wife and family,” Del continued, “or you wouldn’t have been so concerned about hiding your affair from them. Do you really want to hurt your wife? Do you want to see your children turn against you?”

  A crack appeared in Alan’s bravado. He glanced furtively around the bar.

  “You get your kicks by sneaking around and cheating on your wife,” Del continued. “You figure it’s all right as long as no one finds out. Well, you’re a fool, Alan.”

  “Now just a minute—”

  “You think your secrets are safe, and no one’s going to find out about your double life, but secrets and lies are no way to build a relationship,” Del said, realizing again how much he had in common with this man. Damn, he didn’t like thinking about that. “The longer the lies go on, the worse it’s going to get.”

  “Are you blackmailing me or not?”

  Del sat back in disgust. “For the last time, I don’t care about your money. I only care about Maggie.”

  “Then why were you talking about my wife?”

  “For some reason, I thought that if you work things out with your wife, you’ll quit trying to reestablish your affair with Maggie.”

  “And that’s what this was all about?” Alan asked. “You accost me and practically break my wrist in order to give me marital advice?”

  “Yes.”

  Alan hesitated. For a moment it looked as if he actually might be mulling over what Del had said. “Why the hell would you do that? Why do you care?”

  Del wouldn’t care if Alan ended up ruining his marriage and making his children hate him. He didn’t care if Alan threw away the very thing that Del yearned for but could never have. All Del wanted was to insure the man stayed out of Maggie’s life. “I care about Maggie,” he said.

  “So do I.”

  “Then leave her alone.”

  Alan took another swallow of beer, his throat working jerkily.

  “Think about it, Alan.” Del got to his feet, his anger spent. In its place was a creeping emptiness. “You already have what some people can only dream of. As long as you continue living a lie, you risk losing it all.”

  Del returned to the car, the words he had spoken repeating in his head like the steady drizzling of the rain. Living a lie. Living a lie. That’s what he was doing, too, wasn’t it?

  No, it was different. He wasn’t like Alan. He never intended to hurt Maggie….

  But in the end, he feared the result would be the same.

  Chapter 11

  Maggie moved the curtain aside to look out the window for what had to be the seventh time in the past hour. The drizzle that had begun that afternoon had turned into a steady rain. Headlights shone in jagged streaks as a car shushed past three stories below. There was no lightning or thunder. Maggie knew that the electric tingling she felt zipping along her nerves wasn’t due to the weather.

  Ever since she had left the doctor’s office this morning, she had felt on edge, jumpy, as if all her senses were heightened. It was the same kind of breathless tension she felt on the up slope of a roller coaster, when the cars were being winched to the top of the first rise. The decision had been made to take the ride, but the ride hadn’t yet truly begun.

  Six weeks ago, she had thought the hormones associated with her pregnancy had been responsible for the ups and downs of her emotions. What she felt now was different. She wasn’t afraid of trusting her emotions now. Besides, she had always loved the swooping exhilaration of a roller coaster. It was a lot like making love.

  “When is Uncle Del going to come home?” Robbie asked, bumping into her hip as he skidded to a stop by her side. He pressed his nose against the glass and looked out into the night beside her.

  Home. Despite the bleak weather, Maggie felt a warm glow ignite inside her. She liked the sound of “Del” and “home” together.

  Now that she had finally admitted to herself that she was in love, everything seemed so much clearer. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her heart, allowing her the freedom to dream once more.

  A home. A family. Forever. That’s what she had sought when she’d allowed herself to believe Alan’s lies. This time, it would be different. She had chosen the right man, a man she could trust. What she had felt for Alan was nothing compared to her love for Del.

  “Auntie Maggie?”

  She reached out to ruffle Robbie’s red hair. “He had to work late,” she answered. “He won’t be here until after your bedtime.”

  “Is he gonna bring ice cream?”

  “I don’t know. If he does, I’ll save you some, okay?”

  “Cool.” A knock sounded on the apartment door. Robbie pushed away from the window and ran to answer it. “Gramma’s here.”

  “Hold on, Robbie,” Maggie called. “Check to make sure first.”

  He made a face, but jumped up and peered through the peephole anyway. “Told ya,” he said, yanking open the door.

  Armilda gave Robbie a hug and propped her dripping umbrella in the hallway before she stepped inside. “What an awful night. I’m sorry I’m late, Maggie. The bridge game went on longer than I expected.”

  “It’s okay, Armilda.”

  “Well? Where’s the little angel?” She looked around the room, then headed for the infant chair Maggie had set beside the couch. She tipped her glasses down her nose and smiled. “Hello, Delilah.”

  Delilah gurgled in pleasure at the familiar face and made a grab for Armilda’s glasses.

  Maggie went over to lift Delilah from her chair. “Are you sure you’re not too tired for this, Armilda?”

  “We’ll be fine, Maggie. Besides, Robbie promised he would help.”

  “Yeah,” Robbie said, puffing out his chest proudly. “I’m gonna baby-sit.”

  “Because if you run into any problems, remember I’m only thirty
seconds away.”

  “Maggie, you deserve a break,” Armilda said, reaching out to take Delilah from her arms. “Considering the way you’ve been taking Robbie all these weeks, you should have asked me sooner.”

  “It’s only for a few hours,” Maggie said, running her hand down Delilah’s arm.

  “Take as long as you want.”

  “She’s just finished nursing, so she probably won’t be hungry again until after midnight. I’ve mixed up a bottle of formula just in case, but I don’t know whether she will take it. Make sure to call me if she needs me.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” Armilda said. As Robbie ran off to gather his toys, she leaned closer to Maggie and lowered her voice. “And unless it’s an emergency, I’m not going to be interrupting you. In my opinion, it’s high time you and Del had some time alone to concentrate on each other.”

  Maggie felt her cheeks heat. Were her reasons for asking her neighbor to baby-sit Delilah really so transparent? “Thanks, Armilda.”

  “Del’s a good man. From what I’ve seen of him over the past six weeks, I’d say that he’s one fellow you’d be smart to hang on to.”

  “I intend to,” she said, smiling despite her blush.

  “You’d better.” Armilda winked. “If I were thirty years younger, I might go after him myself.”

  Maggie cocked her head and put her fists on her hips. “You’d have to get past me first.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Armilda hooked the diaper bag with her free hand and ushered Robbie out the door. “Good luck!”

  As soon as she was alone, Maggie glanced at the clock. The roller coaster cars winched upward another notch closer to the summit. Butterflies milled around her stomach.

  There was so much to do if she wanted everything to be ready. The stacks of folded baby clothes on the table and the bags of diapers in the corner weren’t exactly romantic. Neither was the spit-up stain on the shoulder of her T-shirt. Candles and soft music would help to set the mood, and if she hurried, she would be able to squeeze in a bath and do her nails, but what on earth should she wear?