“Holy Christ, I don’t know what to do.” He jumped back.
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” I mumbled, filling the gap between us. “You have to help me.” I shoved the vibrator into his hands.
“I don’t want it, and I sure as hell don’t need it.” He held it far away from him. “Damn thing doesn’t even look real.”
“Really. Too big? Too small? How does it compare to you?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?” He gaped at me, his golden brown eyes as big as pancakes.
Stupid project. “Never mind. Just help me turn it off. I can’t get on the subway like this.”
He cursed. “Fine.” Then he examined it closer and grinned like he’d just figured out the answer to the winning question on Millionaire, and he didn’t even have to phone a friend. Can you imagine that conversation? I forced down another giggle, and he said, “Aha. It twists at the base, see.” He gave the vibrator a good twist.
The wrong way. Bzzzz-rrrrrrrrr!
Good ole Jack surged into full speed.
Gadget’s hand jerked and he nearly dropped it, fumbled, grabbed at the air, then finally caught the wiggly sucker with a horrified look on his face. I grabbed on for good measure, and the head began to rotate like a convulsing snake just as a group of pedestrians walked by... and stopped... and stared.
“Uh, just practicing for a new movie. Attack of the Killer Vibrator,” I blurted, and the ungodly contraption chose that moment to spit what looked like whipped cream, everywhere. But mostly on me, since Gadget still had the blasted thing pointed in my direction. “Must be poisonous.” I forced a laugh.
They gave me an appalled look, then hurried along.
“Give me that thing.” I yanked it from Gadget’s hands and twisted it the opposite way until, blessedly, it shut off.
“Attack of the Killer Vibrator?” he sputtered.
“It was either that, or Inspector Gadget Has a Sex Change.”
“Inspector who?” His brow puckered.
“Never mind.” I stuffed Jack into my backpack and held out my hand. “I’m Callie, and you are?”
“Dumbfounded.” He shook my hand in a daze, still staring at my backpack.
“You are?” I prompted again.
“Oh, um, my lips are sealed. My cover, remember?”
“Right.” Cover, schmover. “A word of advice?” I tugged on my mittens, slipped on my backpack, and headed into the street.
“Sure.” He matched his strides to mine with difficulty, considering the bulk of his coat.
“Maybe you should dress a little less conspicuous.” As he adjusted his coat, his pockets gaped open, and I stole a quick glance. Holy cow, he really did have a gun in there. Peering closer, I choked. A gun? Sweet Jesus. He had the entire police force arsenal in there. Why, he even had a pair of binoculars and a magnifying glass. This guy really was Inspector Gadget. What next?
“It’s the overcoat, isn’t it?” When I nodded, he stared at his feet. “Damn, I was afraid it would be overkill, but you can never be too careful, you know.”
“What did you say?” I stumbled, then caught myself.
“I said you never can be too careful. Why?”
“No reason.” I started walking again. No reason except he was the second person today to talk about being careful. What on earth was going on?
Note to self: This is weird, even for me.
“Well, nice meeting you,” I said. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Hopefully not,” he muttered. When I frowned, he added, “I won’t have a job for long if I can’t keep my cover.”
My backpack chose that moment to start buzzing, reminding me of Gloria. Gloria. Wait just a freaking minute, she knew a lot of strange people. My new pal Jack had been surprise enough. If she was playing a trick on me, she was dead meat. I was talking six-feet-under dead meat.
Gadget eyed my jiggling pack and shook his head. “I think I’d find a ‘less conspicuous’ weapon if I were you.”
“Funny. Well, bye then.” I started down the stairs to the subway but stopped when I heard the words, “Brat two.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Uh, my radio. Probably work. Gotta go.” And with a whoosh of camel-tan coattail, he disappeared.
“Right.” Work, my big ole behind.
Bzzzzzzzz!
“Oh, shut up, Jack,” I snapped and continued down the stairs, praying no one would notice.
***
Later that evening, I leaned back in my chair at the kitchen table in the small, one-bedroom apartment. As I sipped my third Bahama Mama, while listening to one of Gloria’s salsa CD’s, I rubbed my stomach. After having eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese, I was ready to burst. Then I glanced at the clock on the wall just as Gloria--Ms. Six-Feet-Under-Dead-Meat--strolled in.
“It’s nine o’clock, honey. Time to take a break. You’re gonna fry your brain with all that work.”
After the day I’d had, comfort food, comfort drink, and comfort music had been a relief, but Gloria was right. I couldn’t work on my project anymore. I needed to get up and move around. “Don’t know about frying my brain, but I’m positive my legs will never be the same.” I straightened and shook out the tingles.
“Well, that’s what you get sitting cross-legged on a hard chair for hours.” Gloria poured a glass of water, gargled, and then spit in the sink. “Come out with me tonight. I got a gig. I actually got a gig, can you believe it? Finally, someone’s gonna pay to hear me sing. No more open mic for me, no way, no how.”
“That’s great, Gloria. I’m happy for you, but I can’t go.” I glanced at the phone and then looked away. “I have way too much work to do.”
“Don’t try to play a player, chica. You already worked for three hours. You’re just waiting for your hot Detective to call.”
“He’s not my anything. Well, except my zucchini, maybe, and that’s only if my Angels can’t find another one. And I’m not waiting for him to call.”
“Sure, you’re not.” Gloria set her glass in the sink. “Then you won’t mind if I call him, because, honey, he is oh so right up my alley.” She picked up the phone.
“Hey.” I jerked, and the legs of my chair hit the floor with a bang.
“Aha. You do mind.” Gloria hung up and grinned. “Guess you won’t need to use my little surprise after all, now that you have your zucchini back.”
“Oh, I used it, all right.”
“No shit? I couldn’t resist after you told me what your Angels had said, but I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. You go, girl.” Gloria gave me a thumb’s-up. “How’d you like it?”
I rolled my eyes. “I used it on a man. Your man.”
“Say what?”
“Inspector Gadget ring any bells?” I asked, but when Gloria frowned, I probed further. “How about Cat Woman, then?”
“Honey, are you on something?”
Clearly, Gloria didn’t know what I was talking about, which left me wondering who on earth these people were. “Never mind.”
“Oh, hell no. You don’t start with something like that and not give details. Spill it.” She folded her silk-clad arms, bangle bracelets clanging, then leaned back against the counter as though she had all the time in the world.
I groaned. “Let’s just say I met some interesting people, and your little surprise made a pretty decent weapon. Until Jack decided to go off. Made a complete fool of myself figuring out how to shut him up, but then he turned on again all by his own little self. Made quite a scene on the subway, let me tell you. I had no trouble grabbing a seat. No one wanted to come near me.” I scowled at her. “Gee, I can’t imagine why.”
“A weapon? Honey, you and I need to have a serious talk about the facts of life, what goes where, and what we do or don’t do with certain devices no normal hot-blooded woman can live without. Sweetie, Jack was meant to be your special friend. Not your weapon.” She shook her head. “I just do
n’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”
“I know one thing you’re not gonna do is replace the batteries.” I glanced at the phone again.
“Uh-huh. And when your Detective doesn’t call, I’m gonna make you eat your words. Then you’ll be begging me for another special friend. Don’t worry, I know where to get backups.” Gloria winked, then grabbed her coat and sailed out the door.
“Don’t count on it,” I hollered after her. If “it” happened again, it sure as heck wouldn’t be with some humongous vibrating piece of rubber I didn’t even know how to shut off.
Hey, I’d seen Jack at high speed. Pretty scary.
I shuddered, then stood. Once I was certain Gloria was gone, I danced into the living room to get my circulation back. I was a closet salsa dancer, but anyone who saw my moves would understand why. I bee-bopped my way to the window for a distraction, gyrating to the beat as I looked out. Back home, I kept everything open, but here in Queens, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Someone could look in.
Someone like Flasher Freak.
That thought sobered me, my hips slowing to a stop. I rubbed the cramp in my side and scanned the street below. Nothing unusual. The snow fell in big, fluffy pieces like a shaken snow globe, and a full moon illuminated the ground below. I started to close the blinds, but a flash came from the apartment building across the street. Waiting a beat, I convinced myself I must be imagining things, but then it happened again. The streetlight flashed off something sticking out of the closed blinds in the apartment directly across from mine.
I’d just watched someone move out of that apartment over the weekend, but I hadn’t seen anyone move in. As casually as I could, I closed the blinds, then ran to the kitchen, turned off the music, and grabbed Gloria’s binoculars. When I returned to the living room, I made certain I was out of sight and then counted to three. Dropping to my knees, I thrust the binoculars through the blinds and blinked.
“No way.” I stared at another pair of binoculars looking right back at me. A real Peeping Tom? No one would ever believe me, though I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. Do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do. The music from the Twilight Zone floated through my brain.
First Cat Woman, then Inspector Gadget, now a Peeping Tom. I frowned. Something was definitely up. If Gloria didn’t have anything to do with this, then maybe Dylan did. Dylan’s job was pretty important to him. Important enough to use me to get the bust. I had a hard time believing any man would be concerned about me or do something nice for me without having an ulterior motive. But how could I complain, since I was using him for my project. Or maybe the Peeping Tom really was Flasher Freak. Lord, I didn’t know what to think anymore.
When the other binoculars slipped out of the window, I decided not to over-think the situation and just go for it. I was getting good at being more assertive and standing up for myself. Tossing my binoculars to the floor, I jumped to my feet and grabbed my cell phone. “You’re not getting away that easily, you sicko.” Then I dialed Dylan’s cell. By calling Dylan, I figured I’d find out if he was behind this Peeping Tom. If he wasn’t, then it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup.
“Mac, I was just thinking about you. I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you called.”
I bet he was. I didn’t have time to find my coat, or the Peeping Tom would get away. Praying my instincts were right, I pulled up the blinds, yanked open the window, and climbed out onto the fire escape. “I’m in hot pursuit.”
“Of what, more food?” He chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen the way you eat, remember our date?”
“Funny. And it wasn’t a date.” I shimmied down the ladder, shivering all the way in my sweats, long sleeve T-shirt, and a pair of slippers. “Shoot, I forgot to bring a weapon. Though my last weapon had backfired... literally.”
“Okay, not funny. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m chasing down a Peeping Tom.” I heard a thud. “Dylan? Are you there?”
“Yeah. I dropped the phone.”
“Oh, God, I hope he didn’t see me.” I ducked behind a parked car on the side of the road.
“Huh?”
“The binoculars are back in his window.”
Dylan cursed.
“Oh, wait. They’re gone again.”
“Callie, get your small-town ass back in your apartment. I’ll be over in a minute.”
“I can’t. He’ll get away.” I crouched lower and stayed out of sight while I formulated a plan.
“No, he won’t. Trust me. I’ll be right there.” I heard a door close, then he started breathing heavy.
“What are you doing?”
“Jogging.”
Snort. “You picked a heck of a time to go for a run.” I heard a clatter across the street and peeked over the car’s hood but didn’t see anything. “Look, I can’t wait anymore.” My apartment didn’t have anything beneath the fire escape ladder, but the apartment across the street had a row of bushes.
“No. I mean it,” he snapped.
“I have to do something.” My slippers were soaked, and my fingers numb. I stepped away from the car and looked across the street. The bushes didn’t look that high, and I’d run track in high school. Maybe if I hurdled over them, I’d be able to reach the ladder from the other side.
“Callie, I said get inside, now,” Dylan said.
“Why are you whispering?”
“Because I’m right--”
“Look, we don’t have time for this. I’m going to stall him. Just hurry up and get here before I die.” Taking a deep breath, I sprinted across the street as fast as I could and then vaulted over the bushes.
A head popped up. “What the?”
“Look out,” I yelled.
“Holy sh-uuuuuugh.”
Wham! I flattened someone good. Lying on top of the man with my phone pressed to my ear, I looked down into his face and blinked. A pair of shocked blue eyes sparkled up at me. “D-Dylan?”
He pulled his phone away from his ear and clicked it shut. “Told you I was in the area,” he wheezed. “Dammit, Callie. Why didn’t you listen to me?” He looked me over and shook his head. “You have no business being out in the snow without a coat or shoes, pretending you’re a member of the SWAT team, for Christ’s sake. What are you, on drugs?”
“No,” I snapped. “Just a little Bahama Mama. I was only trying to protect myself.” I sighed. “Sorry.” The heat of his body pressed snugly to the length of mine warmed me to my toes.
God, it felt good touching him again. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d missed him. Seeing him this afternoon had seared his image in my brain for the rest of the day, but darn it, I did not need him in my life right now. At least not in the way he kept hinting at.
Note to self: My body doesn’t give a rat’s hiney.
I shivered, but not from the cold. He mistook the meaning and pulled the sides of his coat closed over my back, squeezing me tighter to his chest, then left his arms around me. I struggled to think and then pushed away and scrambled to my feet, welcoming the cold air as it cooled my heated blood.
“I couldn’t let him get away, since the Peeping Tom had the gall to peep through my window.”
Dylan rolled to his feet, dusting the snow off his Levi’s. “Can’t you ever do things the normal way and let the police handle it? It’s okay to accept help, you know. To trust someone.”
“I tried that once. Didn’t work out so well.” Everyone believed I had deceived them and sullied the reputation of Cutesville, when the reality was I’d been the biggest sucker of all. I had trusted Bob, had cared enough about him to actually believe we had a future together. I’d known all those months he’d been going out of town on business, but I’d had no idea his business involved duping other desperate, lonely small-town women like myself.
He hadn’t cared about me at all, just cared about making me one of his many porn stars. Funny, it wasn’t even the porn aspect that bothered me
so much. It was the fact that no man had ever loved me for just being me.
After that, I gave up on my hometown and on men. I refused to put my heart on the line again, only to have it abused. Men simply were not trustworthy. Dylan especially. He reminded me too much of Bob, only nicer, and I was afraid I was starting to care.
“I did call for help, I called you,” I said, desperately trying to divert my thoughts. Mission accomplished. Dylan’s blue laser beams sizzled into me, and I lost my train of thought completely. “But y-you took too long, and I, um... uh... What was the question?”
“Come on, Mac. We need to get you back to your apartment. I think the cold has frozen your tongue.” His gaze landed on my mouth.
Every ounce of my being wanted him to defrost me. Good Lord, how could he do that to me? He grinned. What was he, a mind reader now? His grin widened and he took my hand, pulling me behind him as he started across the street.
I dug my slipper-clad heels into the snow and tried not to slip. “I’m not leaving until you check this sicko out.”
“He’s probably long gone.”
I stared at him and crossed my arms over my bumps.
He sighed. “Come on.”
“You’re bringing me with you?” I narrowed my eyes. “And what about backup? Won’t your captain be mad about you not following protocol again?”
“You don’t miss a thing.” His smile looked stiff, but he flipped open his phone and punched in a number. “Detective Cabrizzi here. I’m gonna need backup.” He paused. “A Peeping Tom. Not sure if he’s armed and dangerous.” Glancing at the street sign, he read off the address, then clicked his phone closed. “They’re on their way. Let’s go.” He led the way to the door.
I followed, thinking, for a cop, he wasn’t acting too concerned that a bad guy could be inside, waiting to harm us. Not to mention, did he really have the right to go check out this guy? I mean, I only saw him looking into my window. I was beginning to think my hunch about Dylan having something to do with these crazy characters was right.
Project Produce Page 9