High-Caliber Holiday

by Susan Sleeman

  “Your points are all valid, but you can’t just ignore the fact that she might have a stalker.”

  “I’m not ignoring it. If I was, I would’ve gotten a whole lot more sleep last night, but after you took off, I brought the fingerprints to our tech, and I also confirmed the ex-fiancé is in Florida.”

  “You’re sure he’s out of town?”

  “Positive.” Rossi frowned. “I’d honestly hoped the guy was behind this so I could close the case and move on. Being the jilted boyfriend and all, I thought it was likely, but I was wrong.” He blew out a long breath and stared at the car. “I’ll dust for prints again. We can compare any we find to last night’s prints and search AFIS for a match. I’ll do a canvass again and review the threat file she gave me, but after that I’m done unless something else turns up.”

  Brady wanted him to do more than search the Automated Fingerprint Identification System—a national fingerprint and criminal history system managed by the FBI—but had to agree that there was nothing more to do. “I appreciate you taking this seriously.”

  Rossi nodded gravely. “I suggest Morgan gets her locks changed.”

  Brady agreed. “She’s in the coffee shop. I’ll arrange that with her while you check for prints.”

  Wearily, Rossi ran his hand down his face. “I’ll be in to take her statement in a minute.”

  Brady turned on his heel and jogged down the steps to the shop. Morgan met him at the door again, her expression hopeful.

  “Rossi’s dusting for prints.” Brady gestured at a table. “We should sit. It’ll take some time.”

  She looked at her watch and shook her head. “I have an important presentation this morning and can’t be late. With my car out of commission I’ll have to take MAX so I should get going.”

  “If we want Rossi to continue to take this seriously, you need to stay to give him your statement.”

  “I want to stay.” She glanced outside then back at Brady. “But my clients are counting on me to obtain the support of a local employer today, which could mean more jobs.” She tapped the screen on her phone and Brady saw the MAX timetable appear. “I have to leave right now to catch MAX. I’m sorry if I brought you out here for nothing, but my clients come first.”

  “You can take my truck if you like.” What was he thinking offering his rusty old pickup? Not that he expected Ms. Uptown Girl to even consider it.

  “I couldn’t put you out,” she replied, but he could see she was thinking about his offer. Interesting to say the least.

  He should let it drop, but now he wanted to see how she would react once she got a closer look at the truck. “I’m off today so I can wait around while Rossi finishes the canvass. Then I’ll stop by your office to give you an update and deliver your keys.” Make sure you’re all right in case you need me again.

  “On your day off? I already got you up at the crack of dawn. I couldn’t ask you to do more.”

  “No biggie.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  He gestured at the counter. “I’ve got coffee, muffins and free Wi-Fi. What’s to mind?”

  “Then, yes,” she said with a smile that lightened her face and gave her a carefree look.

  He felt a goofy grin take over his mouth. He could stand just like this for hours. Watching her. Enjoying her smile. Exactly the kind of thing he needed to be alert for if he spent any time with her. “I’ll just grab that coffee. Can I get you anything?”

  She shook her head.

  He gestured at a table. “Then have a seat, and we can talk about this until you have to leave.”

  While she perched on the edge of a chair like a bird ready to take flight, he quickly ordered black coffee and two huge banana nut muffins from the perky barista. At the table, he moved a chair so he could see the door.

  He concentrated on peeling the paper from his muffin, thinking his questions might be easier for her to answer without him staring at her the way he’d been doing. With a stalker after her, she probably felt like she had too many eyes on her already. “I think it’s time to ask who besides your parents might have access to the drawer with your keys.”

  “The staff, of course. And Dad takes meetings in his home office sometimes, but I don’t know who he’s met with in the last few months.”

  “Can we find out?”

  “Maybe my mom will tell me, but my dad’s pretty tight-lipped about his business dealings.”

  “Check with your mom and let me know what you learn.” He moved on. “I suggest you change the locks for your apartment and car. I can arrange it for you while you’re at work, if you want.”

  She narrowed her eyes and studied him. “Why would you do that for me?”

  “You need help.” He bit into his muffin.

  “Nothing else?” She held his gaze for a long moment, distrust rampant in her expression. “No hidden agenda?”

  Suspicious little thing. “No agenda other than to help you.” He smiled to reassure her. “I’m trying to do the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing. Maybe not real well, though, as you seem awfully suspicious of me.”

  She let out a breath, her defensive posture relaxing. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. In the world I come from, people rarely do things for others without an ulterior motive.”

  He’d always thought the rich and famous had it so easy, but maybe that lifestyle wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. She’d left it behind, after all. At least, that’s what she’d been saying, but the expensive car, swank apartment and fine clothes said differently.

  The door opened. A cold draft swept over them as Rossi stepped inside.

  “Ms. Thorsby,” he said in greeting. He took a chair, turned it around and straddled it, then dug out his notebook and pen. “Tell me what happened this morning.”

  Brady sat back to finish his muffin and sip the dark-roasted coffee as Morgan told her story. She’d erected a wall of confidence for Rossi, and her emotions seemed firmly under control again. Maybe she’d gotten over her fear, or maybe she felt more comfortable around Brady and wasn’t afraid to let him see her distress. He hoped that was true. It would make him feel better about the way she’d managed to get past the defenses he’d put up. To make him interested in her when she was the last woman on Earth that he should be having such thoughts about.

  Rossi snapped his notebook closed. “I’ve lifted a few prints from the car and should have time to run them later today. Where can I reach you if I need you?”

  She dug a business card from her bulging leather briefcase and wrote a phone number on the back. “My cell.” She slid it across the table then passed another card to Brady. “You’ll need this for my work address.” She stood. “Thank you for your help, Detective. Now I really need to get to work.”

  Brady got up, too. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Rossi nodded at the barista. “I might as well grab a cup of coffee while I’m here. With the snow, it’ll be a crazy day at the precinct.”

  Morgan picked up her gym bag and briefcase. Brady reached out to carry them for her, but she held fast and headed for the door. As fragile as she seemed at times, she was tough to the core. He appreciated her strength, but honestly, it was starting to irritate him, too. She needed help right now, his help, and he wished she’d just accept it without questioning his motives.

  He stopped in front of her. “Let me make a quick sweep before you go outside.” He expected an argument but got a clipped nod instead. Good. At least she wasn’t too stubborn to listen to common sense.

  On the street, he ran his gaze up and down, checking trees, shrubbery and between cars. Rossi had pulled his car out of traffic, but other than that, nothing had changed. He gestured for Morgan to join him. They started down the sidewalk, and he rested his hand on his sidearm just in case he’d missed something in his search. At h
is truck, he unlocked the door and stepped back.

  Morgan set her bags on the cracked vinyl seat, then gracefully settled behind the wheel, looking as uncomfortable as a regal princess at a thrift shop. He was suddenly very aware of how completely run-down his truck was. He kept it clean. No trash or fast food wrappers like a lot of guys, but it had seen better days. Honestly, it was about ready for the scrap metal yard. He risked a glance at her face, expecting disgust. Instead, he found that iron mask she was able to call up at a moment’s notice.

  He gave her the keys and rested an arm on the door. “She likes to stall sometimes, but she always starts back up.”

  Morgan raised an eyebrow. “She?”

  “Aw, come on, don’t tell me people in your life never gave their vehicles a name.”

  “Never. At least, not that I know of.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been hanging around the wrong kind of people,” he said, though actually he was kind of embarrassed.

  A tight smile broke the tense lines on her face. “Thank you again for the loan of your truck. My presentation should be finished by noon. We can meet then.”

  She put the key in the ignition before looking back at him. “Her name. You didn’t say.”

  “Bessie.”

  “Bessie?”

  He should never have brought it up. Now he’d have to explain. “When I was in middle school I hung out at a friend’s farm. Travis and I raised a calf for exhibit at the state fair. We named her Bessie after a cow we saw in TV commercials for a local milk company.”

  Memories of one of the best times of his life came rushing back and he allowed his thoughts to remain on caring for the animal. Bessie listened to all of his struggles and never judged. Plus, caring for her gave him hours and hours out in the fresh air. An escape from the tin can of a trailer they lived in. And then there was the unending food supplied by Travis’s family. Until... The memories evaporated like a popped balloon. “After it was over, they sold her.”

  Morgan slid the seat forward. “So you named your truck in honor of the cow.”

  “Yeah.” He felt his face flush in embarrassment at the silly sentiment.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s a very sweet thing to do.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze.

  Uncomfortable at letting her into a part of his life he’d never shared with others, he pulled back.

  “Don’t worry, I get it.” A sweet smile softened her face as she adjusted the mirrors. “You have to be the big, tough deputy and can’t let anyone see your true feelings.” She winked at him. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  That wasn’t the whole reason for his discomfort, but he didn’t dispute her assumption and stood back while she fired up the engine. It coughed a few times, then caught and roared to life. The engine idled high, and Morgan’s body vibrated on the seat until she put the shift into Drive and took off.

  He continued to stand there, his gaze following the truck down the road, his mind on the fancy lady and his run-down truck. She claimed she’d left her other life behind and maybe she had. But he doubted driving a rusted bucket of bolts was what she meant, and he doubted she could ever get used to a life that included a heap of a truck. Translated, she could never get used to a guy like him.

  SIX

  Brady approached the PEA office. A storefront at the end of an older strip mall, the place was unassuming and slightly tattered. Not even the melting blanket of snow made it look more appealing.

  He stepped inside and scanned the large front room. Computers lined one wall, photocopiers and printers another. Two men and a woman sat at one of three round tables, flipping through binders. Bulletin boards with motivational posters lined the back wall with a large desk sitting below.

  Spotting him, a young woman with a cautious expression came around the desk. Where Morgan was fragile and delicate, this woman was sturdy and muscular. Her nametag read Lacy Sutton, likely the friend on the train with Morgan last night.

  She forced a smile. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Brady Owens. I’m looking for Morgan.”

  She appraised him. “I was expecting you. Morgan’s told me all about you.”

  He could only imagine what she might have said.

  “I hope some of it was good,” he joked.

  “All of it.” She smiled in earnest this time.

  Brady relaxed. “Is the presentation over?”

  “The meeting just broke up, and she’s saying goodbye to our guests.” Lacy nodded at the tables. “If you want to have a seat, I’ll go tell Morgan you’re here.”

  Brady took a chair at an empty table, and Lacy disappeared through a doorway in the back. As soon as she was gone, the job seekers started chatting about Morgan and the jobs program. Wondering if one of her clients might be her stalker, he listened in. With her good looks, it would be easy for a client to fall for her, and a client wouldn’t likely come right out and admit his feelings. Especially if he was unemployed. He was more likely to take the secret admirer approach. Brady made a mental note to ask Morgan about her clients.

  She soon entered the room and escorted four men in business suits to the front door. After shaking hands with them, she nodded a quick greeting for Brady and went straight to the job seekers.

  She smiled and bent over the table. “How’s it going today? Any new leads?”

  The seekers looked at her with respect and each of them shared about the progress in their job search. As she interacted with the trio, her face glowed and her whole being came alive. He could see she truly cared about them and that they were genuinely thankful for her assistance. When she turned to Brady, the same smile lit her face, and he felt time stop for a moment. As much as he simply wanted to sit there and bask in her radiating warmth, he needed to get moving on finding her stalker. But he could ease into the topic and not totally annihilate her good mood.

  “Does the smile mean your presentation went well, or you’re happy to see me?”

  “Both, actually,” she said, then looked down.

  Wow. He didn’t expect her to admit she was glad to see him. “Can we go somewhere private to talk about this morning’s event?”

  Her smile vanished.

  Nice one. Way to sugarcoat that and ease into the topic of the stalker.

  “My cubicle is right this way.” Her shoulders back, she led him through the back door. She stopped to pick up her briefcase and tote bag sitting just inside the door. “Thanks again for loaning me your truck. I got here just in time to drop my bags on the floor and run into the presentation.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, but didn’t attempt to take her bags this time.

  They moved down a hallway to an area filled with cubicles and the chatter of busy workers. She entered a messy break room where she grabbed a bottle of thick liquid from the refrigerator. He assumed she planned to drink the orange gunk, but the color turned his stomach.

  “I usually have one of these for energy in the morning, but with my meeting I didn’t get a chance.” She held it up. “It’s a veggie/berry drink that I make. Would you like one?”

  He mocked a shudder.

  “Ah, not into healthy eating, huh?” She shook the bottle.

  “Give me a big cheeseburger, a plate of fries, maybe some onion rings and an ice-cold root beer, and I’m set. Well, maybe add some deep-fried cheese curds into the mix, too.”

  She looked up laughing. “Are you serious about the curds?

  “A Midwest thing. Born and raised in Minnesota.”

  She poured the drink into a glass and the liquid reminded him of sewage sludge. “I thought I heard that accent in your voice.”

  “Oh, ya, sure and you betcha.” He mocked his Norwegian ancestry.

  She grinned as she held up the glass. “You sure you don’t want one?” />
  “I’ll pass.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a blend of tomato, broccoli, apple and carrots. A perfect energy drink.”

  He tried not to grimace but didn’t manage it. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Coward.” She laughed. “There’s a water cooler in the corner if you’d like some water.”

  “I’m good,” he said.

  She shifted the straps for her bags on her shoulder, headed for the door and started chugging the drink the way a person stranded in a desert might gulp down water. This behavior seemed so out of character for her usual genteel manners.

  She’d finished the entire drink by the time they reached her cubicle. She came to a sudden stop. Brady couldn’t react fast enough to keep from bumping into her. He shot an arm around her waist to stop her from taking a nosedive. He expected her to push free, but she clamped a hand over her mouth and pointed at the desk.

  Brady followed the direction of her finger and found three red roses and another picture lying on her pristine desk.

  “Not again.” Brady’s arm instinctively tightened around her.

  She tried to swivel free but he was holding her too tightly. He relaxed his grip just enough to allow her turn, but he couldn’t make himself release her.

  “Who could be doing this?” She lifted her stricken gaze to his.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find out,” he said, but he had no reason at this point to believe they would.

  “I’m so thankful for your help.” A tremulous smile found her lips.

  Hoping to put her at ease, he smiled back at her.

  She suddenly seemed to notice he was holding her, and she pushed against his chest to free herself. The warmth of her touch sent his senses firing and his pulse racing. He didn’t want to let go, but short of making a fool of himself, he had no other choice but to release her.

  After dropping her bags on the desk, she reached for the picture.

  “Don’t touch it,” he warned.

  She snapped her hand back and bent closer to look. She suddenly gasped and lurched back. “He was in my bedroom. Oh, no. No, no, no.”