Darbie blew out a breath of frustration. “I love Lila, but she’s a few short of a dozen, if you get my drift.”
Chloe made a face. “Do you think I should be concerned? She told me that the danger concerns Hank, and that I should stay away from him.”
A trace of amusement came over Darbie. “Really?”
“That’s what she said.”
“Hank seems like a great guy to me.”
“He is a great guy. That’s what I tried to tell Lila.” She wasn’t about to tell Darbie about Hank’s past. Nor was she going to tell her about how Lila had seen Dan. She still couldn’t explain that one, but there had to be some rational explanation. There just had to be! She realized that Darbie was talking and focused on what she was saying.
“Now if she’d told you to stay away from Garrett, I might be persuaded to believe her.”
Chloe laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“But Hank …” She shook her head. “I think she’s wrong on that one.”
Something in the way she phrased the words caught Chloe’s attention. “Has Lila ever been right about any of her predictions?”
“Well, she did tell me about three months before you moved in that I would be getting a new roommate …” she hesitated, an uncomfortable look coming over her “ … and despite the fact that we come from two different worlds and have absolutely nothing in common, we would end up becoming the best of friends.”
The feeling of tenderness that flooded over Chloe caught her completely by surprise. “Thanks,” she said quietly. Then the fear returned with a vengeance. “Lila was right about us … maybe she’s right about Hank too.”
Darbie shook her head. “Lila likes to act like she knows more than she actually does. She has a keen sense of intuition that allows her to pick up on people’s feelings and fears. If you want my opinion, I think that’s the secret behind her predictions.” She waved a hand. “Of course, she’s wrong about as often as she’s right. She told me that I would unknowingly be the key that solved a high-profile case.”
“Really?”
“That obviously hasn’t happened, nor do I think it will.”
Chloe was starting to feel better about things. She loved Darbie’s practical take on life and how it helped restore a measure of sanity.
“Look, it’s obvious that you’re crazy about Hank, and he seems to feel the same way about you.” She gave Chloe a probing look. “Am I right?”
She nodded. Tears pressed against her eye sockets, and she blinked to keep them at bay.
“Guys like Hank don’t come around every day.”
“No, they don’t.” Of that Chloe was certain. Hank was one in a million.
“Take my advice. You’d better hold onto him.” A smile stole across Darbie’s lips. “If you don’t have sense enough to keep him, then I might have to go after him myself.”
Chloe laughed. “I don’t think so. Don’t worry. I have sense enough to recognize a good thing when I see it.”
* * *
Chloe was standing near Yvette’s desk when the woman came sauntering into the reception area of Marsh Interiors like she owned the place. Dressed to the nines in a short skirt and sweater, she was tall and willowy with shoulder-length, glossy hair the color of sable that bounced on her shoulders as she walked. She had the languid look of a pampered model that expected the world to fall at her feet simply because she was beautiful. When she reached the desk, she slung back her hair and moistened her pouty lips. “Hi, Yvette. It’s been a while. I need to see Hank. Would you tell him that I’m here?” she said in a sultry voice that was more of a command than a request.
A strange light came into Yvette’s eyes. “He usually doesn’t see people unannounced, but for you, I’m sure he’ll make an exception.”
The woman laughed. “Of course he will.”
Yvette went to pick up the phone. “I’ll call him.”
She leaned over and put a hand over the phone. “Oh, don’t do that. You’ll spoil all the fun.”
By this point, Chloe was starting to dislike this haughty woman who was acting like she had some claim on Hank. She arched an eyebrow and straightened to her full height. The woman seemed to notice that Chloe was standing there. She looked her up and down, a quiet challenge in her eyes. Chloe jutted out her chin. “Have we met?”
“No, I don’t think so,” the woman smirked, dismissing her with a flick of her hair.
“I’ll show myself in,” she said, eyeing Chloe once more. She pushed her purse strap back up on her shoulder and strode in the direction of his office.
Chloe put a hand on her hip. Even though they’d barely spoken, some instinctual part of her detested that woman. She was clearly on the make and had Hank in her sights. Was she a client? She certainly didn’t like the idea of him working closely with someone like that. Then again, Hank worked with myriads of clients. It wasn’t like she could police them all. If she and Hank were to have any hope of building a lasting relationship, then she would simply have to trust him.
She looked over and realized that Yvette was studying her, an amused expression on her face. She glared at Yvette, hoping her eyes would convey all that her tongue wasn’t allowed to say. “What?”
A crafty smile formed on Yvette’s lips. “Aren’t you going to ask who that was?”
“Why should I do that when it’s obvious that you’re going to tell me anyway?”
Her face fell a notch. “Okay, I won’t tell you,” she harrumphed.
Yvette’s petty games were grating on her last nerve. “Who was it?” Chloe demanded.
Excitement tinged her voice as she went in for the kill. “That was Veronica Grant or V as Hank calls her, Hank’s old girlfriend.” Her lips formed a mock pout. “He was crazy in love with her, but she broke his heart.”
* * *
It took all of the intestinal fortitude Chloe could muster not to tromp into Hank’s office and drag that long-legged hussy out by the hair of her head. Knowing that wasn’t an option, she did the only other thing she could—sat behind her desk, fuming! It took her all of five minutes to decide that she was not going to sit by and let someone swoop in and steal her man, right out from under her nose. She glanced at her phone. She and Hank were scheduled to have lunch at noon, which was about ten minutes from now. She’d wait until then before going into his office to get him.
* * *
Hank was so engrossed in the house plans he was studying that he didn’t realize she’d come into his office until she was standing in front of his desk. His eyes went round as he rocked back. Then his mouth formed a hard line. “V—what’re you doing here?”
She leaned forward, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Can’t an old friend even stop by and say hello without being given the third degree?”
He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his eyes taking in her flawless appearance. She was as beautiful as always. Beautiful and dangerous. “Old friend, huh? What do you want?”
She trailed a red fingernail over the top edge of the building plans. “Hard at work, I see. Still pretending to be an honest business man.”
Her voice was soft and taunting. There was a time when he would’ve taken the bait and played right into her hands, but she no longer had any control over him. He let out an impatient sigh. “I’m on a deadline. What do you want?”
She batted her eyelashes and gave him her best come-hither expression. “I’ve missed you,” she purred, reaching across the desk and caressing the top of his hand.
Hank wondered how many other men had been snared by that same line. “Really?” he said in a bored tone, removing his hand. “I doubt that.”
Her face fell. “You don’t believe me.”
He looked her in the eye. “No, I don’t.”
She let out an uneasy laugh and sat down. Just like that, she dropped the pretense and smirked. “I never could fool you, could I?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, you fooled me pretty good … once.” His voice went hard. �
�But then I came to my senses.”
She trailed her long fingernails through her hair. “Always so serious. Remember all of the good times we had?” She chuckled. “That night we had dinner on the rooftop of your apartment building. You brought me flowers, and we danced under the canopy of the stars.” There was a wistful expression on her face. “You were my first love, Hank. I fell hard for you.”
“Yes, you made that perfectly clear when you dumped me. Speak of the devil, how is Sam?”
“That’s not fair. I was scared and alone. Sam was there when I needed him—a shoulder to cry on.” Tears misted her eyes. “I never cared for Sam like I do you. Why can’t you get it through your thick skull that I made a mistake? How many times do I have to say it?”
“The mistake was mine for ever trusting you. You and Sam deserve each other.” As he sat there, looking at her, he wondered how he could’ve ever been taken in by her wiles. True, she was devastatingly beautiful and said all of the right things, but there was no substance. She was an elaborately wrapped box that was empty inside. An image of Chloe, warm and expressive, flashed through his mind, and he was so grateful for her. He rubbed his neck. “Like I said, I’m busy, so if there’s nothing else …”
“I came to talk to you about Garrett.”
His head shot up. “You’ve seen Garrett? When?” Even though he kept assuring Chloe that Garrett was fine, he was worried about him. He’d been calling and texting him repeatedly and had even stopped by his house the night before, but Garrett wasn’t there. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
“He came to me two nights ago. He’s in trouble, Hank, and he needs your help.”
His muscles went rigid. “What kind of trouble?”
“All I know is that he owes a truckload of money to Sam’s boss. They’re wanting him to do some job to square the debt.”
Hank swore under his breath. It was his worst fear. He balled a fist and put it to his mouth.
“I’m worried, Hank.” Her voice trembled. “Sam’s doing all he can to hold off his boss, but it’s not looking good.”
“If Garrett’s in trouble then he needs to go to the police.”
She scoffed. “The police? Right! A lot of good that’ll do him. You know better than anybody how these people are.” She gave him a meaningful look and lowered her voice. “What he needs is your help. The job involves a safe—a very sophisticated safe from what I hear.”
He gave her a dark look. “Did Sam send you here? I’ve told him! That part of my life is over! I’m clean, and I intend to stay that way!”
Her eyes turned to circles. “No, Sam doesn’t even know I’m here. I told you, I came of my own accord because I’m worried about Garrett.”
“Well, that’s mighty magnanimous of you to be so concerned about my little brother. This is a first for you, isn’t it, V? To show concern for another person?”
Fire brimmed in her eyes. “Don’t mock me. After all we’ve been through, I think I deserve better than that.”
He leaned forward, clutching the arms of the chair, his knuckles white. “Then don’t you come in here—batting your eyes—in a poor attempt to manipulate me into doing Sam’s dirty work!”
“It always goes back to Sam. You’re pathetic! So blinded by your jealousy for Sam that you can’t see that I’m crazy about you!” Her voice broke, and a single tear dribbled down her cheek.
“Contrary to what you think, I’m neither blind nor jealous. Whatever we had in the past is dead and buried. The sooner you get that in your head the better.” He sincerely hoped that she would be able to tell from the disinterested tone of his voice that he was serious.
She stood. “You’re a fool, Hank Singleton. A stupid fool. I’m here on Garrett’s behalf. When he came to you for help, you threw him out on his ear.”
He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Is that what he told you?”
“Knock, knock,” Chloe said as she stepped into the room. Her presence had the effect of snuffing out the conversation. When she gave Hank a questioning look, he forced a smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey, I just came to see if you’re ready to go to lunch.”
V spun around, her cold eyes looking Chloe up and down. “Now, I’m getting the full picture,” she said, acid coating her voice. “This must be the famous Chloe that Garrett told me about. I thought that was you earlier.”
Chloe met her gaze full on. “You have the advantage of knowing who I am when I haven’t heard a single thing about you.”
A look of fury swept over V as she let out a harsh laugh. “Well, aren’t you the little dish? A southern girl with wit. No wonder you have the guys fighting over you.” She smirked. “Hank always was a sucker for brunettes,” she finished with a flip of her hair.
“V was just leaving,” Hank cut in.
“Yes, I was.” Her eyes bore into Hank’s. “Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you about Garrett.” As she walked by Chloe, she paused. “Better enjoy him while you can because he transfers his affections quickly.”
22
Chapter 22
Darbie chose her usual seat on the front row. This class, Psychology of Criminal Behavior, was her favorite, partly because of the course material but mostly because of Logan McDonald her dashing professor that she’d affectionately nicknamed Professor McDreamy. In his early thirties, he was tall and lean with hooded, black eyes that seemed to hold some tantalizing secret. His features were sharp and masculine, and he made a point of giving it to the class straight—a no-nonsense, a flesh and blood Tommy Lee Jones. Darbie could tell from the wistful looks on the faces of the other female students that she wasn’t the only one whose flame burned for the professor. His ring finger was bare, but she assumed that he must have a serious girlfriend because he showed no interest in the female attention he routinely received.
That all changed about midway through his lecture. The room was stuffy, and out of habit, she gathered her curls in her hands and pulled her hair up on her head to cool her neck. For some reason, this caught his attention. He stumbled over a word and paused, his thoughtful eyes catching hers. When she offered him a hesitant smile, he returned it. A bolt of warmth shot through her as she looked around, wondering if the other students had noticed the interaction. Throughout the lecture, Professor McDreamy kept glancing her direction. After class, he approached her desk. Her heart began to pound erratically. “Great lecture,” she blurted and then winced inwardly. Could she have sounded anymore stupid?
“Thanks,” he said casually. “I appreciate your comments. It helps to keep the discussion going. I think half the students would sleep through the class if they could.”
She just sat there. It had been much easier to feel confident when she was in a room full of people. Now that they were alone, she couldn’t think of a single, sensible thing to say. Blast it! An awkward silence passed.
He cleared his throat. “I was going over your term paper. You make some strong points about why repeat offenders need harsher parole restrictions.”
They chatted about that for a few minutes, and then he pointed. “Nice earrings, by the way.”
A flush crept over her cheeks as she tucked a curl behind her ear. “Thanks.”
“They’re very unique. Where’d you get them?”
“At one of the department stores.” She flashed an unassuming smile. “Really can’t remember.” She wasn’t about to tell him that they were a gift to Chloe from an ex boyfriend and that she’d borrowed them without asking.
A fluid smile spread over his face, and she thought she would melt at the sight of it. “Well, they look very nice on you.” He gave her a hopeful look. “This may sound a bit unorthodox … since I’m your professor, but I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me sometime.”
“I’d love to,” she blurted before he could change his mind.
They exchanged phone numbers and set a date for Friday. After that, Darbie practically floated out of the room.
* * *
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When Darbie was out of hearing range, Logan pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hey, Jared. How’s it going? It’s Logan … yeah, I know it’s been a while … how’s the investigation into the Ghost Thefts coming along? I was afraid of that … The Ghost is notorious for leaving no trace.” Excitement brimmed in his voice as he clutched the phone tighter. “Well, today is your lucky day, detective, I just might have a lead for you …”
* * *
Garrett waited until dark to enter Glory’s home. Carefully, he made his way to the study. He shined the flashlight around the room, looking for the chair. His heart dropped when he realized it wasn’t there. Glory must’ve moved it to another room. Even though he’d never been questioned by the police regarding the Ghost Thefts, he felt sure that the police kept tabs on him, considering the fact that he was Hank’s brother. He went to great lengths to cover his tracks, and that included making sure that he never stored the loot at his home or anywhere the police would suspect. He was at an auction when he came across the unique chair that had a secret compartment. The genius of the plan was in its simplicity. He placed the chair in Glory’s home, repeatedly telling her how much he loved it. While Glory wasn’t crazy about the chair, she would never get rid of it because she knew how much he loved it. He’d been tempted to have it recovered, so that it wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t want to run the risk of the upholsterer discovering the compartment. Not only did he store jewels in it, but also passports for new identities and emergency cash.
Methodically, he searched the home, room-by-room, looking for the chair. He went so far as to search Glory’s room, even though she was sleeping in her bed. Frustration mounted inside of him when he realized that the chair was not there. A part of him wanted to wake Glory up and demand to know what she’d done with the chair. Of course, he couldn’t do that—not without drawing suspicion to himself. If he weren’t out of time, he could simply pay Glory a visit and casually ask about the chair, but it was too late for that. Everything was in place. Getting the contents from the chair was the final step. Think! He had to think! Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead as he tried to figure out what to do next.
When Darkness Falls Page 23