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Mirror, Mirror

Page 5

by Linda Randall Wisdom


  Dana halted when they reached her car. A chirping sound announced she’d disengaged the alarm. Mac cast her a wry smile.

  “Any reason why you’d have an alarm for your car, but you’d never consider installing one in your house?” he asked in an all-too-casual voice.

  “It’s necessary. There’re times I carry important papers,” she explained. “I don’t see it necessary to install one in my house. The community security patrol always seemed to offer adequate protection. Or so I thought.”

  Mac shook his head. He thrust his hands in his jacket pocket, while Duffy tugged on his leash and investigated the tires on a nearby car. Mac gently tugged the dog away when he realized what Duffy’s intentions were. “We’ll talk about that. Look, I know what you heard tonight was a shock.”

  “Shock is an understatement,” Dana murmured, not even wanting to recall what Mac had told her. She refused to believe any of it. “What you saw was a mistake.”

  “Cameras don’t lie.”

  She flinched. “That doesn’t mean they always see the truth. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.” She climbed into her car and closed the door. Without looking at Mac again, she started up the engine and drove away.

  Mac dragged Duffy away from a nearby bush and headed for his vehicle. The large dog jumped into the back seat and settled down.

  “What’s up with her, Duff?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. “She’s got all the signs of a nutcase, but, I don’t know. Something doesn’t ring right. Think I’m losing my objectivity because of a pair of blue eyes?”

  His partner’s reply was a contented doggie snore.

  “Some help you are.” He spied Dana’s car and sped up a little. He kept her in sight until she pulled into her garage and the door slid down behind her. He parked on his usual side road and watched a few lights turn on inside the house. A few hours later they were all extinguished.

  Maybe Barney’s bar didn’t bother her because she’s spent evenings in places a hell of a lot worse than Barney’s, he thought.

  This whole deal was something out of a movie made for television. Heroine frightened by unknown fears; macho hero brought in to protect her and save her from a faceless villain.

  He wondered what happened if the heroine and the villain were the same. He hoped that wasn’t the case. There was something about Dana that pulled at him. Something about the shape of her mouth that had him wondering what she would taste like. He knew when he went to the office in the morning he’d find her scent still lingering in the air.

  How many men had had the chance to check out that delectable-looking mouth and inhale that intoxicating perfume? How many guys like that truck driver did she party with?

  During his time in vice, Mac had been assigned to follow more than a few women like Dana. Women who might as well have been prostitutes, even if they didn’t charge the men they were with.

  Dana Madison. She was as changeable as day moving into night.

  “Spending the night thinking about the lady isn’t a good idea. She’s a client, and that means no fooling around. Not to mention, all her eggs might not be in one basket,” he said out loud. He knew some people would think he was crazy discussing his cases with his dog. He didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, Duffy was the perfect partner: he didn’t give his opinion when it wasn’t wanted and he worked for Milk Bones. “Just because she looks so damn normal doesn’t mean she is. Remember Myra Frasier? She looked normal, too. Just like the sweet old grandmother you read about in books and see on TV. No one would have guessed any different if the neighbor’s dog hadn’t dug a hole in her rose garden. Turned out there were six men buried there, and she was living off their life insurance. Just goes to show you can’t trust anyone.”

  Duffy sat up, draped his massive head over the back of the passenger seat and exhaled a deep doggie sigh.

  “Yeah, life’s a bitch.” Mac chuckled as the dog whined a reply. “Okay, okay, you wish.”

  He slid his seat back to allow room for his legs and settled in for a long night.

  So, dear little Dana had gone out and got herself a watchdog. How interesting. When had this happened? She didn’t remember seeing him before. But then, she also hadn’t been looking for one.

  She liked the idea that she was watching the watcher. It gave her the delicious feeling of knowing something he didn’t. It gave her something to do, since she had no plans to invade Dana’s space tonight. Some nights she preferred standing outside where she felt free, just contemplating her surroundings. She enjoyed those hours of freedom. These were times when she could dream of what it would be like when everything was hers, and dear, darling Dana no longer existed.

  Had Dana had any wine tonight? There was enough sedative in the liquid to ensure a good night’s sleep. Dana hadn’t woken up once any of the times her house had been occupied. She hoped Dana was grateful to her for those undisturbed nights of sleep.

  She’d spent many an hour getting to know the house when Dana was asleep. She liked to explore every corner and study the contents of cabinets. It was so delicious to have the chance to ferret out Dana’s boring little secrets.

  She wondered if Dana liked the little presents she made sure she left behind. How satisfying it was to find just the right item. A little something she could drop in a convenient place for prissy Dana to discover. How horrified she must have been when she found the offerings. She only wished she could have seen Dana’s reactions.

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t in any hurry. After all, there were plenty of other nights for games. It was better if she took her time. That way, Dana would feel more and more paranoid. It seemed only fair Dana suffer. Who knows, if she had any luck she might even find time to play with Dana’s watchdog.

  She craved a cigarette but tamped down the need. This wasn’t the time. Not when she could look around and survey her future kingdom. Dana had chosen a lovely quiet neighborhood. She’d enjoy living here after Dana was gone.

  She glanced toward the darkened vehicle again. She didn’t worry about his seeing her. Didn’t people always believe what they saw? And she knew exactly what people saw anytime she wanted to be noticed.

  Dana stared at the three names and telephone numbers she’d written on the notepad set in front of her. It had taken her almost the entire morning to summon up the courage just to get this far. Now she had to dredge up the courage to make the call.

  With the same meticulous care as before, she’d done her homework. The results were the three names. She prayed one of them would hold the answers she was looking for.

  Her hands shook as she picked up the phone. She hated that her fear caused them to tremble.

  She’d just tapped out two of the numbers, when her intercom buzzed.

  “What is it, Marti?”

  “Ms. Madison, there’s a Mr. McKenna here. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he feels you would be willing to see him,” her assistant informed her. “I’m afraid he wouldn’t say what he wanted.”

  Her first thought was to say she was busy and couldn’t see him. Her second was that perhaps he had some news for her.

  “Mr. McKenna doesn’t believe in making appointments. That’s all right. I’ll see him.”

  She deliberately remained seated as Mac entered the office. He took his time walking around the perimeter of the room. He paused every so often to study a piece of furniture or look out the windows, before he finally turned to her.

  “Nice digs,” he complimented, sitting down on the chair across from her. “No wonder you looked as if you wanted a pair of rubber gloves and a bottle of disinfectant when you walked into mine.” He smiled.

  Dana could only stare. When the man smiled, his entire demeanor changed. The rough craggy features didn’t soften, but something happened to his face that directed a punch to her stomach.

  Whenever she thought of a private investigator, she visualized the debonair Remington Steele. Definitely not Mac McKenna, who looked as if the
word tuxedo didn’t belong in his vocabulary, with his faded jeans, tan cotton shirt and battered black leather jacket. She expected to see boots on his feet instead of top-of-the-line running shoes that looked as if they’d been through a few wars.

  She couldn’t detect any hint of cologne on him. Just some kind of spicy soap. But he fit the idea of the rough-and-ready man in every other way.

  “For someone not having an appointment and who’s unknown to your staff, it wasn’t all that difficult to get back here to see you,” he said, settling his ankle on his opposite knee.

  “This is the type of business where the head needs to be accessible,” she countered.

  “Not if you’re afraid someone is looking to get you.”

  Dana froze. “What else have you learned?”

  “Not a thing,” Mac admitted, pulling a small notebook out of his jacket pocket. “And that’s what puzzles me. If someone is running around town impersonating you, they’re now keeping a low profile. Your car hasn’t left the garage for the past six nights. Since you haven’t called, I gather you haven’t found any more surprises in the house.” He cocked an eyebrow as a silent reminder that she hadn’t told him about the bra.

  She shook her head.

  “Perhaps whoever is doing this has gotten tired of the game and moved on,” she said, uncomfortably aware of hope filling her voice.

  “Do you really think so?” he asked.

  Dana didn’t want to think it might be the calm before the storm. She preferred to think it was over. She wanted her life to return to the way it was. She wanted her father alive again, her mother healthy and everything the way it should be.

  She didn’t want to answer his question. “Is that why you’re here? To ask me if I think it’s over?”

  “Nope, just giving you my weekly report, as promised.” He glanced at the papers on the desktop. His gaze settled on the sheet set squarely in the middle. “Antonelli, Robinson and French. All long established in their field, all multi-published in their field and all a bunch of pompous idiots. If you’re going to see a shrink, at least get one who cares more about the patient than the hourly rate.” He noticed her astonishment. “The art of reading upside down is a useful skill in my line of work.”

  “These are all well-respected professionals,” she argued.

  Mac leafed through his notebook until he found what he wanted. He reached over and grabbed the sheet of paper with the three names, then he crossed them out and wrote down a name and phone number. He pushed the sheet back across the desk.

  She looked down at the name, which didn’t look familiar to her. “What makes Abby Moore better than the three best psychiatrists in the city?”

  He was unfazed by her challenge. “Easy. She’s not in it for the money.”

  “A philanthropist like you.”

  “Her office is in a better neighborhood.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  “She won’t look for a quick fix, and even when it hurts, you know she’ll do what she can to make it better.”

  There might not have been a change in Mac’s expression, but Dana still sensed there was more to his statement than he was letting on.

  Had he seen the lady doctor on a professional basis—or perhaps a personal one?

  “You tell me what alarm company to contact, what doctor to see. Are you in the habit of taking kickbacks?” she asked.

  Her question would have made any other man respond in anger at having his honor questioned. She was surprised to see a hint of a grin lift Mac’s lips. Again, she felt that mysterious punch to her stomach.

  “You don’t mince your words, do you? I didn’t take kickbacks when I was a cop and don’t believe in taking them now. I just figure if someone needs the skills of a professional, they should seek the best.”

  “The best…in your opinion.”

  “The one that counts.” He looked around. “Since I’m here, why don’t you give me the nickel tour. Show me what Madison Property Management is all about.”

  Dana pushed back her chair and stood up. “I hope you don’t mind that I avoid mentioning you’re a private detective I hired to follow me. That kind of news would give the office gossips some wonderful material to feed on.”

  Mac walked beside her to the door. “The best thing to do in a situation like this is to keep it simple. Just tell them I’m your boyfriend,” he murmured in her ear.

  Dana tipped her head back, eyeing him as if he were some strange animal let loose. Now that punch to her stomach had turned into a strange heat that seemed to make its way all through her body.

  “I wouldn’t suggest it,” she advised.

  Mac didn’t remove his arm as Dana twisted the doorknob and opened the door. She tried to bump him to one side with her hip, but he smiled and easily sidestepped her gentle attack.

  Marti looked up as the two stepped out of the inner office. If she was surprised by the familiarity the visitor displayed toward her boss, she was too well trained to show it.

  “I thought I’d show Mac the offices,” Dana explained. “Marti, this is John McKenna. A close friend of mine.” She felt a faint blush steal across her cheeks as she said the words. She knew her reaction would make the story more believable. “I’m afraid he’s correct. He doesn’t need to have an appointment to see me.”

  “I promised her I wouldn’t show up too often,” he told the assistant, flashing her a warm smile guaranteed to charm any woman.

  The administrative assistant nodded. “Of course.” She smiled at Mac.

  “I don’t know what I would have done without Marti after my father’s death,” Dana explained. “She knows more about this office than I ever will.”

  “Only because I’ve been doing it longer,” the older woman replied. “Don’t let Dana fool you. She took to this like a duck takes to water. She has the know-how to take this company far.”

  “Now you see why she gets paid the big bucks,” Dana joked, as Mac guided her away from the desk.

  “Which I’m sure I’ll see in my next paycheck,” Marti called after her.

  Mac remained at Dana’s side as she explained the inner workings of the company. Now and then Dana could detect that faint scent of spicy soap, but she also sensed something more elemental and male.

  “How long has Marti been with the company?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Since the day my father left the firm he was working for and started this one. She was his secretary then, and she left to work for him because he promised full medical benefits from day one. Her husband needs constant care, and my father made sure she never had to worry about it,” she replied. “He believed in doing whatever was necessary to keep his employees happy. We offer a full benefits package, competitive salaries and other perks our rivals don’t provide. As a result, we have a very low turnover rate.”

  “What else do you have? A company picnic during the summer and an annual Christmas party?” He nodded his head and smiled at various office staff members as they gazed curiously at him. “Sounds too good to be true, Dana.”

  “Not your style, I’m sure, but our people are happy.” She paused in front of a room that housed the usual kitchen appliances. “I can guarantee the coffee is excellent.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Mac waited as she poured two cups and handed one to him. He shook his head when she offered cream and sugar. He leaned against the counter and sipped the hot brew. Just as she promised—excellent. “I’ll have to come here for my coffee. The place I go to claims it’s coffee, but I think they get it out of the backyard.” He took a healthy swallow.

  Dana glanced out the door and turned back to face Mac.

  “What do you expect to get out of this?” she demanded. “You come in here acting as if you’re my…”

  “Lover?” He said the word she wasn’t about to voice.

  “Close friend,” she amended.

  Mac watched with fascination as a dark pink blush flashed across Dana’s cheeks. He guessed a lot of men would c
all her prim. He’d call her the cool, calm, collected type. She liked being the one in charge.

  Right now she was acting a bit cranky because he was the one in charge. He actually liked seeing her cranky. It made her seem more human.

  “I checked out some of the more dubious hangouts,” he said by way of conversation. Better to bring it back to business. Watching her in that slim-cut skirt showcasing a great pair of legs was pretty distracting. She didn’t make it easy for him to remember he was a professional. Funny, he’d never had this problem before. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea now.

  “A lady going by your description has been prowling them for the past six months,” he continued. “She’s well remembered for being one hot number, a good tipper, overly friendly, and, considering everything, didn’t cause any trouble. Guys fall over their tongues to buy her a drink, and the ones who leave with her think they’re in heaven. She’s not known to be a tease. In other words, she’s only too happy to put out.”

  Dana looked away. Her fingers tapped nervously against the side of the cup.

  “What name does she give?” she asked hoarsely.

  “Alice.”

  Her head snapped up. “Alice?”

  Mac moved swiftly, snatching the cup out of her hands just as her fingers loosened their grip. He set it to one side. When he grasped her hands he found them ice cold.

  “My mother’s name is Alice,” she whispered, feeling the cold steal through her body.

  “You have any other relatives named Alice who could pass for you if they wanted to?”

  She shook her head. “My parents were both only children. My last grandparent died four years ago. There’s no one.”

  “Wrong. There’s someone out there who knows you.” He rubbed her fingers until he felt the warmth return.

  “Then you believe me?” she asked. “That this isn’t me doing all this?”

  “A good cop has to rely on his instincts. It can save his life more than once. It has mine. Something tells me there’s someone out there doing this to you—but without proof…” He shrugged, silently telling her he needed something tangible to work with. “Your deciding to see a doctor might answer some of the questions.”

 

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