Phish NET Stalkings

by Denise Robbins

  “I have to agree with you. There are no disgruntled employees that I’m aware of either. I’ll make a few calls to the other department heads tomorrow just to verify.”

  “Great. I’ll talk to the boutique managers tomorrow. I want to stop at the number one shop and see that everything is all set for Marion after last night’s burglary.”

  “Speaking of which.” David cleared his throat, crossed one ankle over his knee and sat back in the teal-colored chair. “Why did you not call me? Why did I have to hear it from the police, from Cooper? I tell you when he showed up at my door my heart dropped to my knees.”

  “I’m sorry.” Now it was her turn to apologize and feel guilty. “After dinner with Amy, I went straight to the store. By the time I dealt with the police, it was late so I went straight home and fell into bed. I would have told you today.”

  David crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m listening.”

  Jane started to roll her eyes then remembered what Cooper said about David loving her like a daughter. Instead, she smiled indulgently, sat back, and told him everything that happened. After her telling of the evening’s events, David rose and came around the desk. He tugged her to her feet, wrapped his long arms around her, and pulled her in close for a hug. “Promise to be careful. If anything seems odd, even if it’s the littlest thing, you’ll tell me and the police.”

  Jane started to pull back and protest, but David laid a finger over her lips. “I know how you feel and I respect that, but I trust Cooper. I think, deep inside, you do too.”

  She wanted to deny it, but she was beginning to. It was hard not to. The man weaseled his way into her home and into her heart.

  David pressed a kiss to her forehead and released her. “You watch your back.”

  The knock on her office door startled Jane and she turned from David to see Tony. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “I was working on the party plans and wanted to go over them with you.”

  David held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m outta here.”

  Jane smiled at him. “Have a good night.”

  David waved them both off and walked out of her office.

  She turned back to Tony. “Let’s sit.”

  “This won’t take long,” Tony told her as he sat in the chair next to hers. “I’ve got the invitation drafted and ready to send. What do you think of this?” He handed her a sheet of paper with the invitation printed on it.

  “This looks great. Do you think we’ll have enough time for people to RSVP if we mail these?”

  “I was thinking we would email the invitations. That way we’re guaranteed to get the invitation delivered quickly. I can put a read receipt on them so I know they were received. Then I can follow up with everyone if we don’t have an answer in a day or two. I think it’s the only way to guarantee that everyone will have time before this weekend.”

  “I can’t believe it’s only Halloween. It feels like we’re in the middle of winter out there. Did you see the snow flurries this morning?”

  Tony did a fake shiver. “Brr. I love New England, but I do not love winter.”

  “Me either. What else do you have?”

  Tony reviewed the menu that he and Amy had created. They decided on buffet style to serve the food so the guests could mingle. He and Amy also recommended music by a local DJ and how it would be a mix of oldies but goodies as well as a little of today’s.

  “As long as the DJ stays away from anything too offensive,” she suggested.

  “No worries. I’ve already sent a list of artists from today that would go well with the crowd. By the way, Amy is great to work with. She made the planning so easy.”

  Was that a spark of interest she saw in Tony’s emerald eyes?

  “She is good at what she does. I’ll pass on the compliment.”

  “Now the cake.” Tony whipped out a photo and laid it in her lap. “I figured not everyone likes chocolate, which is seriously wrong, but whatever. Anyway, since that may be the case, Amy and I thought a multi-tier cake with chocolate on the bottom layer, a marble in the middle, and a vanilla cream cake on the top and top that off with a whipped cream frosting.”

  Jane glanced down at the picture of the three-layer cake. It astounded her. There were little balloons, colorful masks, and miniature monsters. It was like an explosion of Mardi Gras meets the Munsters. David would love it.

  “It’s wonderful.” She smiled up at Tony. “You did a fantastic job.”

  “Thanks.” He stood and started stuffing papers back into a manila folder. “Well, I’m going to go send off the invitations, so hopefully we will get responses tomorrow morning. Then I’m going to call Amy and tell her that everything is a go.”

  He arched one brow in question.

  “Yes, yes,” she told him and got to her feet. “It’s perfect.”

  “Great.”

  At the door to her office, he paused and turned back. “Did Carl or Officer Hottie find out what happened yet? I mean, who hacked your email?”

  Officer Hottie? Jane wanted to laugh but instead shook her head. “No. I know Carl was on the phone with the police chief a couple of times but so far, they’ve had no luck.”

  “Oops. The phone. See you tomorrow,” he said as he rushed out of her office to answer his desk phone.

  Jane returned to her own desk and was packing up her belongings when she heard a familiar voice tell Tony, “Thanks for letting me in,” followed by, “Goodnight.”

  Then he was standing in the doorway, filling it with his wide shoulders and inviting grin. “Hi.”

  For some unknown reason her heart tripped over itself and her tongue got tied. What was he doing here?

  “I thought I would walk you to your car and follow you home,” he said in answer to her unspoken question.

  She stuffed her laptop in her bag then straightened and slung it and her purse over her shoulder. “It’s really not necessary.”

  “Maybe not, but indulge me.”

  His eyes twinkled and instead of their customary gray-blue color, they looked almost like aquamarine, the color of the sky on a sunny winter day. She walked toward him, reached behind the door and pulled her jacket off a coat rack.

  “Let me help you with that.” Cooper lifted her bags from her shoulders, set them on the floor. Then he held out her jacket for her to shrug on.

  “Thank you.” She reached for the bags, but he had picked them up and slung them over his own large shoulders.

  “How did you know I was ready to leave?” she asked as she flicked the switch to her office lights and shut them down for the evening.

  His jacket rustled when he shrugged. “I didn’t. I called Carl to see how far he had gotten.”

  “And?” she interrupted, anxious and hopeful.

  He shook his head. “Nada. I told Carl I would take a look.”

  “How can you do that? Don’t you need a computer and network access?”

  He grinned at her as he held the elevator door for her. “That’s why I’m going home with you.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  “Uh-oh,” Coop muttered as he got behind the wheel of his car. Jane was pissed at him. The entire ride down in the elevator she had seethed at him.

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I don’t need some overbearing cop slash ex-FBI guy worming his way into my business.”

  “You invited me,” he reminded her with a grin.

  “Not to my house.” The elevator doors dinged open to the lobby.

  “I’m following you home whether you like it or not,” he muttered and walked past the night guard.

  “Good night, Sam.”

  “Good night, Miss East. Good night, Chief Chance.”

  “Later.” He waved one hand to the older guard, wrapped the other hand around one of Jane’s arms and ushered her out the front door.

  “You don’t have to manhandle me,” she rebuked and tried to shrug of
f his touch.

  He released her when they reached her car. “Get in, buckle up, and drive carefully. I’ll be right behind you.”

  In her rearview mirror, Jane saw her reflection, yet she did not see herself. The brown-eyed woman who stared back at her had sunken eyes ringed with dark shadows looking closer to a raccoon. Her usual full face appeared thin and, oh-my-gosh! Were those wrinkles?

  She leaned in, pressed the fingertips of one hand against her pale cheek and lifted. The laugh lines disappeared. She puffed up her cheeks with air and glanced at her reflection. Wrinkles evaporated and pink color returned to her face. If she was back at her office, she could use one of her facial crèmes to make the wrinkles vanish and a little natural blush to help her color.

  “Better,” she muttered releasing the breath she held.

  With a shake of her head, Jane turned the key in the ignition and started the car. “Of course you look like crap. Someone tried to ruin your business and now the cops were involved and not just any cop, the cop you left the bar with then ran out on.” Detective pink panties.

  Her lips curled up at the thought of the hunky detective standing there for all the world, okay, for all of her to see in lady’s pink underwear. Laughter burst out of her chest. “What had he expected?” Of course, she ran out of his house as if her ass were on fire. Wouldn’t he have done the same if he saw her in all her glory wearing a jock strap?

  But then look what happened. He showed up at David’s and wooed him to his side. So much so that David called Cooper in when there was a problem at work. He showed up at her house and got her to have sex with him. Twice. So what that it was really good sex, the best sex she ever had. Not that she had had a lot of sex. By her friend Amy’s account, she was practically a virgin. Just because she did not have sex with every man she met, did not make her a virgin. It made her selective. Yeah, that was it. At least she had been.

  Until she met Cooper Chance, Chief of Police. “Shit!” Of all the people in her world she would want to get involved with, he was the last person. Oh! And what was that profession of love this morning. Was he whacked? He barely knew her. Yeah, he knew her body. Very well. Just the thought of him touching her sent heat radiating to all parts erogenous. But knowing her body did not mean he knew her.

  Somehow using his FBI and police skills, he found out who she was, but that did not mean he knew her. She did not know him, and she didn’t want to. That’s what she told herself as she put the car into Reverse.

  She glanced up at her rearview mirror and saw his truck’s headlights flash at her. “He can just wait until I’m good and ready.”

  Jane backed out of the parking slot. As she shifted the car into Drive, she checked her mirror again, and yes, he was still there.

  Rolling down the window, ignoring the bite of winter air, she revved the engine just enough to get his attention. When she saw the shadow of his form sit up straight almost at attention, Jane slammed her foot on the gas pedal, stuck her arm out the window, and gave detective pink panties the one-finger salute. Then she squealed out of the parking lot laughing all the way.

  Not that it did her much good, because as she pulled into her driveway, Cooper was right there, right on her tail.

  Cooper turned the ignition off, shoved open the door, and jumped out of his truck on a run. “Are you nuts?” he yelled as he stalked toward her. “You could have killed somebody!”

  “What?” she asked in a shocked, innocent voice.

  Innocent, his ass, he thought. She turned to ignore him but he grasped her arm before she could walk away. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I wanted to be alone. I was thinking I have had a very long day and the last thing I want is company. Your company.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face and tried to quell the anger and the passion he felt for this woman. He had told her he loved her and she still did not trust him. Then again, aren’t those same words used to convince a lot of people to do stupid things? He of all people should know that. He experienced it almost every day of his working life.

  Okay, he could adjust. He had to earn her trust. He could do this. He would do this.

  “Listen,” he ground out in a low growl. “Reckless driving is not going to make me disappear. It could, however, get someone killed or at the very least, get you a ticket.”

  Under the lamplight of the garage, he watched her blanch and grow pale. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was stressed. Rightfully so and now here he was wanting to help but adding to her misery.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to add to your horrible day. I’m trying to help. Let’s get you inside. I’ll feel better once you are locked up.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking and I did drive recklessly. Feel free to give me a ticket.”

  He smiled then, wrapped an arm over her shoulder and propelled her into the garage before they froze their butts off. “You can bribe me with dinner and a look at your laptop,” he said, smiling down at her.

  She rolled her brown eyes. “If I can’t get rid of you, I might as well let you do me a favor.”

  “And feed me?” he asked, hopeful.

  She chuckled. “And feed you. Come on.”

  After shrugging out of their coats, Jane went upstairs to change into something more comfortable while he unpacked her laptop and set it up at the kitchen counter. He intended to watch her while she fussed around in the kitchen.

  “Comfy?” he asked a couple of minutes later when Jane came down the stairs in a pair of loose-fitting jeans and an eggplant-colored sweater, that gave her pale cheeks some color.

  “Very.” She rubbed the arms of her sweater. “I just love the feel of chenille, don’t you?”

  He arched a curious brow. “Chenille?”

  Jane rolled her eyes heavenward. “Men.” She crossed to him, held out her arm. “Go ahead, touch.”

  He shrugged then lifted his hand and did as ordered. “Soft.”

  “Mmm.” Jane dropped her arm and moved into the heart of the kitchen where she began pulling out pots and pans. From the refrigerator she extracted a head of lettuce, a large tomato, three different colored peppers, a bottle of dressing and some feta cheese. “We’ll start with a salad.”

  “Sounds good. What can I do to help?”

  “Would you set the table?”

  “Sure.” He slid off the kitchen barstool and moved to the cupboards. It only took him two tries to locate the silverware drawer and got the right cupboard for plates and bowls on the first shot.

  “You want some wine?”

  “That sounds good.” He already knew where she kept the glasses so he reached into the cupboard next to the refrigerator and removed two glasses, setting them on the counter.

  “Where’s the wine?”

  She jerked her head in the direction past his shoulder. “In the pantry there is a small wine rack and cooler.”

  “Red or white?”

  “We’re having pasta a la moi.”

  “Hmm.” He grinned over his shoulder. “I’m thinking I might like that.”

  “Get the wine,” she scolded and giggled.

  He opened a bottle of red and poured a generous portion into each glass. He joined her at the table just as she set the salad bowl on the table.

  “Help yourself.”

  With a set of tongs, he mixed up the lettuce and veggies then served the salad onto their plates.

  “Feta cheese?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Why not.”

  Jane dropped two teaspoons of the cheese on top of his salad then poured the dressing, some kind of vinaigrette on top. He waited for her to take a bite first before he ate.

  “This is good.” He shoveled another bite into his mouth. “If I do a salad at home the most I do is open the bag of already cut up lettuce and douse it with blue cheese or ranch dressing.”

  “I do that too sometimes, but I’m fond of
tomatoes and peppers. Sometimes I just cut up one of those and dip it in dressing rather than do a full-blown salad. It’s easier.”

  “So you don’t cook a full meal every evening?”

  “Nope.” She dabbed at her mouth with the paper napkin.

  “Do you eat out a lot?”

  “Not really, not unless I go out with a friend.”

  “Like your friend Amy. That is who you were out with last night before you went to the boutique?” He saw her stiffen, the muscles in her jaw flex. “Relax, I’m just making conversation. I’m not interrogating you.”

  She visibly relaxed, her spine curving a little as she let out a long sigh. “My friends are not bad guys.”

  Cooper held up his hands in defense. “I never said they were. And I wasn’t asking. I just want to learn more about you. That’s all.”

  She stood, picked up both their plates and set them in the sink. “It’ll be a little bit before the pasta is ready so if you want to take a look at my computer, now would be a good time.”

  Dismissed, he thought. He gave a mental shrug. That’s okay, he would get her talking. He would find out more. Getting to his feet, he poured a little more wine in each of their glasses, set them on the counter near where she was working and where he slid up a bar stool. He turned on the computer and waited.

  “What’s in this recipe for pasta a la moi?”

  “Olive oil, garlic, crushed hot peppers, crushed tomatoes, basil, and a touch of sugar,” she answered him as she moved from refrigerator to cupboard to stove.

  “Sugar?”

  She laughed as she poured olive oil into a saucepan, crushed up a clove of garlic and added it to the simmering oil. Soon the aroma of garlic filled the warm kitchen.

  “Sugar brings out the sweetness in the tomatoes.”

  He watched the way she moved, the way she stirred the crushed hot peppers into the mixture in short, quick, efficient movements then turned her attention to opening a can of crushed tomatoes all while she hummed some sweet, soulful tune. She was fascinating and obviously enjoyed cooking.

  When she turned and looked in his direction her gaze narrowed into little slits. He grinned, wiping at the corners of his mouth for any noticeable drool. Could he help it if the woman was smart and gorgeous? Smart because any woman who could change her identity and stay hidden for years had to be brilliant, not to mention very creative.