Tall Dark Defender

by Beth Cornelison

  “Miss Annie?”

  The young voice jarred her from the intimate perusal of Jonah’s physique, a side trip she had no business making. Clapping a hand over her scampering heartbeat, she faced her babysitter. “Rani, I…Sorry I’m late. My boss had me run an errand after I got off.”

  “It’s okay. I was just watching TV. I—” Rani paused, wrinkling her brow. “Gosh, what happened to your lip?”

  Annie touched her swollen mouth. She’d almost forgotten about the blow the mugger had landed, splitting her lip. “Nothing really. I’ll be fine. Just a little accident,” she lied out of habit.

  She’d gotten good at making up explanations for the injuries Walt had inflicted.

  She was a klutz. The baby had bumped her nose with his head. She’d tripped over a toy in the dark. Her babysitter frowned but said nothing else about Annie’s injury.

  “Come on.” Annie hitched her head toward the back of the apartment. “Let’s get you your check.” She paused at the door to the kids’ bedroom and peeked in.

  Ben slept soundly in his crib with his diapered butt poking in the air, and curled in her bed, Haley clutched her stuffed cat, Tom, under one arm.

  A tightness squeezed Annie’s chest as love filled her heart to bursting. Quietly, she stepped into the room and adjusted Ben’s blanket to cover his arms, then crouched to stroke Haley’s long, dark hair. Her daughter stirred, and Annie held her breath, hoping she hadn’t woken Haley with her motherly doting. She tiptoed back out the door and turned toward her bedroom where she kept her checkbook.

  After scribbling out Rani’s weekly payment, she walked the teenager to the door.

  “You still need me at eleven thirty tomorrow morning?”

  Rani Ogitani had graduated from high school the previous May and started babysitting for Annie the following summer. Now, ten months later, Rani claimed to be looking for a job, thinking about college, weighing her options, but seemed content watching Annie’s children and living with her mother for the time being.

  “Yeah. Eleven thirty. The kids give you any trouble today? I know Ben can be a handful.”

  Rani yawned. “They were okay. Mom says Ben’s crankiness is just his age. Typical terrible twos.”

  Annie grinned. “This, too, shall pass.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Something my grandmother used to say. Never mind.” She held the door open for Rani and stood on the landing to watch as the teenager crossed the parking lot to her mother’s first-floor apartment.

  The March evening still held a nip of the winter just past, and goose bumps rose on Annie’s arms. Before stepping back inside, she scanned the yard, the parking area, the street. Jonah was gone. Or at least she couldn’t see him anywhere, if he was hiding, watching.

  She shook her head. That was paranoia talking. Walt’s legacy.

  Or was it? Jonah had followed her when she left to make her delivery for Mr. Hardin. Was he really just being thoughtful and protective? Why had he asked her not to call the cops? Was he her guardian angel—or was Jonah hiding a dangerous secret?

  Chapter 3

  The next day, Jonah took his place at the lunch counter at Pop’s Diner as he had nearly every day for the past several months. With luck, he’d only have to subject himself to the diner’s menu another couple of weeks. As he followed through with the bet he’d placed with Farrout the night before, he hoped he now had an inside track to learn more about how the illegal gambling operation worked—how gamblers paid their debts, where the money went, who was involved at higher levels.

  Follow the money.

  He thought about the package Annie had been given to deliver last night, and tension spiraled through him. He’d bet anything Hardin’s package had to do with the gambling money he was laundering through the diner. Whoever had been on the other end of that delivery was a key player in this operation.

  Jonah gritted his teeth. He’d been so close to filling in another piece of the puzzle in this investigation before that bastard had jumped Annie and made off with the package.

  It almost seemed as if the guy had been lying in wait for her. As if he’d known that package was to be delivered….

  Jonah puffed his cheeks and blew a slow, thoughtful breath out through puckered lips. Who could have tipped the thief off? Where was the leak in the operation? Was someone gunning for Hardin?

  Nothing about last night’s turn of events sat well with Jonah, especially when he figured Annie into the picture. Hardin had drawn her into the dynamic. She could have unwittingly become ensnared in the sticky web of deceit Hardin and Farrout had spun.

  Jonah mulled his next move, then glanced up from his ham on rye when Annie breezed through the front door at ten minutes until noon. She cast him a quick nervous glance as she poked her purse under the counter and rushed back into the kitchen.

  Jonah swabbed another greasy fry through his puddle of ketchup, keeping an eye on the kitchen door. Waiting.

  Moments later he heard Hardin’s raised voice roll from the back of the restaurant like thunder announcing a storm. “You lost it? You idiot! I told you how important that package was! How could you lose it?”

  Jonah craned his neck, trying to find Annie through the service window.

  He heard the soft murmur of Annie’s response, recognized the frightened tremble in her tone, and his gut pitched.

  “Sorry’s not good enough!” Hardin screamed.

  A loud crash. Annie’s frightened yelp.

  In an instant, Jonah had jumped from his stool and barreled through the swinging door into the kitchen. He sized up the situation in a glance. Hardin’s red face, balled fists and threatening pose as he leaned close to Annie. The young waitress had scrunched back against the wall, her face pale and arms raised defensively to protect her head.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  Hardin’s glare snapped over to Jonah. “What are you doin’? Can’t you read? Employees only!”

  “Annie? You all right?” he asked, ignoring Hardin.

  Frightened brown eyes lifted at his inquiry.

  Hardin jabbed a finger toward the door. “This ain’t none of your business!”

  “I’m making it my business. I don’t take kindly to any man threatening a woman.”

  Annie’s brow furrowed warily.

  “The bitch lost two hundred grand of my money!” Hardin growled.

  Annie gasped, and her eyes widened. “Two hundred grand!”

  Hardin narrowed a glare on her. “That’s right. Two hundred grand. And it’s comin’ out of your paycheck!”

  Her face blanched a shade whiter. “Mr. Hardin, I can’t—”

  “Shut up!” He slammed a hand on the wall beside her head, and she yelped, trembled.

  Jonah’s blood boiled, and he strode closer to Hardin. Grabbing the man’s shirt, he yanked him around, then shoved him back against the opposite wall. “Back off! If I see you so much as breathe on her again, I’ll tear you apart.”

  Hardin puffed his chest out and shoved back. “Don’t threaten me! She’s my employee and—”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to hurt or intimidate her,” Jonah growled through clenched teeth. “Don’t touch her. Ever.”

  “Jonah…” Annie said quietly. “Don’t.”

  “If anyone is to blame for that money being stolen from her, it’s you.” Jonah poked the man in the chest with his finger. “You had no business sending a woman into that neighborhood alone, especially at that hour. What were you thinking? She could have been killed.” He took a deep breath to calm the rage seething inside him. The urge to smash the guy’s face was too strong. He needed to step back, cool off. He released Hardin’s shirt and moved away, his hands still bunched at his sides.

  Hardin’s eyes narrowed, and his face flamed red. “Get out of my kitchen! Out of my diner!” He turned to Annie, aiming a finger at her. “And you! You’re fired!”

  Annie bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Jonah moved b
etween Annie and her hostile boss. “Not so fast, pal. Unless you’d like to explain to the cops what that two-hundred-grand delivery was about, where the money came from.”

  Now he had Hardin’s attention. The man’s eyes widened, and his face leeched of color.

  “She can file a wrongful termination lawsuit whether she has grounds or not, and the delivery you asked her to make is sure to be called into question. You got an explanation ready for the judge about that two hundred grand?”

  Tensing, Hardin glared darkly at Jonah, then cast his glower toward Annie.

  Jonah held his breath, second-guessing his rash challenge. Tossing down the gauntlet with Hardin might not have been his wisest move if he wanted to keep a low profile as he worked his investigation.

  But Hardin, in his rage, had spilled the tidbit about the huge sum that had been in the package. Hardin knew Jonah had been at the diner last night when Annie left to deliver the envelope. And Jonah couldn’t help but wonder if his intervention now hadn’t provoked Hardin to fire Annie.

  Guilt pinched Jonah. He couldn’t let her lose her job because of his temper.

  “Fine,” Hardin snarled, spittle spraying Annie’s direction. “Consider yourself on notice. You screw up again, and you’re gone.”

  With another scalding glance to Jonah, Hardin stomped into his office and slammed the door.

  Annie pressed a hand to her chest and slid to the floor, shaking.

  Pulling in a deep breath for composure before he approached her, Jonah studied Annie’s trembling body and wan expression. He’d seen reactions like hers too many times in both his personal and professional life not to know what he was dealing with. If her fearful reaction to Hardin weren’t enough, her scars and her distrust of him last night bolstered his assessment.

  She’d likely been abused. Husband, father, sibling—didn’t matter who. The devastating legacy of violence and mental cruelty didn’t differentiate.

  Acid roiled in his gut, and he took another couple of seconds to cool off before squatting in front of her.

  “Annie—”

  “You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” she murmured. Raising her eyes to meet his, she shook her head. “He’s my problem, and I have to learn to deal with him.”

  He frowned. “Annie, he had no right—”

  “That doesn’t matter! Right and wrong isn’t the point.” Annie hiked her chin up a notch and firmed her jaw in a display of moxie that sparked hope in him.

  He held his tongue, giving her the chance to speak her mind. Her body language as she gathered herself and recovered from Hardin’s intimidation spoke volumes to him. She was strong. A fighter. She had the mettle to overcome her past. Warmth swirled through his blood as he held her rich-coffee gaze.

  Annie swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “This was my problem, not yours. I have to learn how to handle these situations for myself, if I’m going to—” She tore her eyes away and shook her head again. “Never mind.”

  When she pushed up from the floor, Jonah put a hand under her arm to help her to her feet. She shrugged out of his grip. “I’m all right. I don’t need—”

  “Okay.” He held his hands up and backed away one step.

  Stroking her hands down her uniform apron, she angled a dubious look toward him. “Why have you decided to be my protector? You barely know me.”

  He shrugged. “How well do you have to know someone to want to help them?”

  She ducked her head and didn’t answer.

  Jamming his hands into his pockets, he cocked his head and studied her bruised cheek and swollen lip, evidence of last night’s attack. Even with the injuries marring her ivory skin, her beauty shone through. Annie was a curious blend of childlike fragility and womanly allure. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose that lent to her young, waifish appearance, while her bowed lips and thick-lashed brown eyes contributed to the seductive movie-star quality her hairstyle evoked.

  He cracked his knuckles, working off the remnants of adrenaline following his confrontation with Hardin. “Look, are you all right?”

  A pointed, dark brown gaze snapped up to his, half hidden by the curtain of hair she kept over her left cheek. “I’m fine. I appreciate your help, but—”

  “But nothing. Forget it.” He waved a hand in dismissal and pivoted on his heel. He’d made it as far as the swinging door before he reconsidered. “No, don’t forget it.” He marched back to Annie and drilled her with a hard gaze. “You want to learn to take care of yourself? To handle men like Hardin and that guy in the alley last night?”

  Annie blinked her surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “You said you had to learn how to handle situations like this, guys like Hardin.” He flicked a thumb toward the spot where Hardin had stood earlier. “Did you mean it?”

  A deer-in-the-headlights look froze her face.

  “I can teach you to handle yourself when a man attacks you. I can show you how to defend yourself, protect yourself.”

  She eyed him skeptically for several silent moments. “What about my children?”

  “Kids?” Jonah fumbled, caught off guard by her question. “I…I guess I could teach them, too.”

  “No, they’re too young. I mean, can you teach me to protect them from men like…” She paused, bit her lip, then lowered her voice. “Men like Hardin?”

  Jonah held her gaze, moved by the depth of fear, the passion and motherly concern he saw reflected in her dark eyes. A degree of desperation shadowed her expression and tugged at dusty memories deep inside him.

  “I can…if you’re willing to trust me.”

  His answer seemed to douse her interest with a cold slap of reality. She frowned and jerked her gaze away with a sigh. Trust was clearly in short supply for Annie. Not surprising.

  Jonah twisted his mouth to the side as he thought. “May I have your order pad and pen?”

  With a puzzled look, she took the items from the front pocket of her apron and extended them to him.

  “What time do you get off work tonight?” He scribbled an address on the pad and clicked the pen closed.

  Again she hesitated before answering, her gaze narrowed on him as if she could detect his motives, any ill-intent or hidden agenda if she studied him close enough. “Eight. Why?”

  “That’s my gym.” He tapped the front of the pad. “I’ll meet you there at eight thirty and give you a few pointers on self-defense, if you want. There are plenty of things a woman can do to protect herself, even from a man twice her size. I’ll show you a couple of the most effective ones tonight.”

  He handed her back the pen and pad, and she perused the note he’d made. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth again and wound a strand of hair around her finger. “I don’t know. I…I’d have to call my babysitter and make sure she could stay late. And I hate to miss the kids’ bedtime. I see so little of them as it is.” Her shoulders slumped a bit, and he heard working-mother guilt rife in her tone.

  Seizing the opportunity to learn more about her and make her feel more at ease with him, Jonah grinned. “How old are they?”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “Your kids. How old are they?”

  Her expression softened, and warmth flooded her eyes. “Haley is five and a half, and my baby, Ben, is almost two.”

  Her obvious affection for her children needled a vulnerable place in Jonah, an emptiness he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on. The idea of having his own family stirred a complicated mix of emotions in him. He longed for the domestic ideal of home and hearth, but his memories of family left him in a cold sweat. Norman Rockwell dreams of a picket fence and two-point-five kids were a fantasy for him. Out of reach. Too risky.

  His broken family, his only experience with home life, was a recipe for disaster.

  Clearing his throat and shoving aside his own bitter memories, he flashed her another smile. “A boy and a girl. That’s great. You have a matched set.”

  A corner of he
r mouth quirked up. “Hardly matched. They’re as opposite as can be.”

  Jonah chuckled. “Funny how that happens, huh?”

  Her mouth curved a bit more, forming the first hint of a grin he’d seen on her lips in weeks. “Yeah. Funny.”

  “I’d love to meet them someday.”

  Her smile vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by the damnable wariness again. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I like you. And I like kids. Stands to reason I’d like your kids.”

  Her brow lowered. “Mr. Devereaux, I’m not interested in—”

  “No, you’re right.” He raised a hand to cut her off. “Too fast. I didn’t mean to be pushy.” He nodded toward the order pad still in her hand. “But please consider coming tonight. For your safety’s sake.” As he backed toward the door, he threw in a parting shot he knew was pure manipulation. But he didn’t care. “Do it for your kids if not yourself.”

  Annie needed to learn to protect herself, to stand up to bullies like Hardin, to revive the spark her abuser had extinguished. Jonah wasn’t above a little manipulation if it motivated her to make changes in her life.

  The truth was, Annie had been the delivery person when a two-hundred-thousand-dollar transfer of funds was stolen. Had the thief intended to kill her to keep her quiet, stop her from identifying him? Would the party who’d expected the cash seek retribution? Could Hardin become more desperate and, therefore, more dangerous?

  No matter how he looked at this turn of events, Jonah didn’t like the crosshairs Annie had found herself in after last night. She needed more than just a few self-defense techniques if someone tried to keep her from talking. But his lessons would be a start.

  Meanwhile, he’d be extra vigilant. Annie needed someone with his experience and training to watch her back.

  Annie surveyed the last few diners who’d come in for a late meal, then faced Lydia, who was working the last shift. “Can you handle things if I go now?”