by Debra Webb
She exited the stairwell on the third floor, again without looking back or saying a word to him. He followed. This was another part they had to get straight. He went through any door first. She stayed close and behind him, preferably.
He imagined the real trouble was going to be in getting her to cooperate when he explained that she might be the boss but he was in charge.
At the door to her apartment he stepped in front of her. “I go in first.” He held out his hand.
She dropped the key into his palm and stepped back. He unlocked the door and moved inside. He’d looked at the floor plans for her building. She had a one-bedroom. The entry door opened into a small hall. The living and dining space along with the kitchen were an L-shape, and then another tiny hall with doors to a linen closet, the bedroom and the bath. No balcony, but she did have two large windows. He motioned for her to come inside, but she didn’t. She stared at the door across the hall.
“Something wrong?”
She shook her head. “Guess not.” She gestured to the door she’d been staring at. “I thought my neighbor was going out of town.” With a shrug she turned to her own door and stepped inside.
Todd closed and locked it. “Stay put until I have a look around.”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.
The large window overlooking the street allowed plenty of light into the room. He was surprised there were no blinds or curtains. The Eva he had known before had been very shy and private. Another of those things that had attracted him. He was glad to see an upholstered sofa rather than leather since it would serve as his bed. A small cocktail table stood in front of the sofa and a side table sat between two comfortable-looking chairs. The upholstery and the throw pillows were soft, muted shades of blues and greens and yellows. A rug in the center of the room was scattered with two larger pillows. Didn’t take much to imagine her on the floor curled up with a good book. Back in college she’d enjoyed reading romance novels when she wasn’t studying. He’d often teased her about her secret hobby.
The kitchen was tiny with an even tinier dining area. Updated three-piece bath with lots of that subway tile people went gaga over. Big mirrors that made the space look a tad larger and more of those little bursts of color that adorned the main living space. He opened the door to the bedroom and the scent of her assaulted him and made him weak. The large window in this intimate space was covered with thick curtains, ensuring the room was dark. He flipped on a light, checked the closet that overflowed with clothes and shoes and then turned to go. The unmade bed and the nightshirt tossed onto the tousled covers made him hesitate.
Selfishly, he experienced a sense of satisfaction at the untouched second pillow on the bed. He scanned the walls and other surfaces for photos or signs of a boyfriend. The only photographs were of her and her sister, Lena, and their parents. Their father had died the year before Eva started college. She had still been struggling with the loss when they were together.
“Are you finished yet?”
He pivoted toward her voice, surprised she’d gotten as far as the door without him noticing. Distraction is dangerous. He knew better. “The apartment is clear.”
“I noticed.” She executed an about-face and stormed away.
Todd heaved a disgusted breath and plowed his hand through his hair. This might not be as easy as he’d thought. He had foolishly hoped they might be able to make amends. That maybe he and Eva could be friends now that he was back in Chicago. Guess not.
He exited the bedroom and took the few short steps to the kitchen. This place was considerably smaller than it looked when he reviewed the building’s floor plan. Spending a lot of time here with her would prove less than comfortable. She opened cabinet door after cabinet door, then rummaged in the refrigerator, obviously looking for something to eat.
“We could have dinner delivered,” he suggested.
She looked at him over the fridge door. “Yogurt and crackers are fine with me.”
He gritted his teeth and restrained any response for a moment. Her plan was obvious—make him as miserable as possible. No problem. He deserved it. “Sounds awesome.”
She blinked but not fast enough to cover her surprise. A carton of yogurt and an apple in hand, she left the fridge, grabbed a box of crackers from a cabinet and carried her haul to the counter.
He tossed his duffel on the sofa and watched as she carefully sliced her apple and arranged it on a plate, then added a handful of small crackers. With yogurt spooned into the center, she sprinkled a few walnuts on top. Spoon and plate in hand, she carried both to the made-for-two dining table. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, grabbed a napkin and then took a seat.
Todd ignored her indifference and made himself at home. He grabbed a plate, rummaged for a butter knife, found peanut butter and proceeded to slather it onto as many of the small crackers as the plate would hold. He added an apple, not bothering to slice it, poured a glass of water and then joined her at the small table.
“Looks like you predicted Lena’s future correctly.” He stuffed a cracker into his mouth, hoping the protein in the peanut butter would satisfy him. He was starving.
Eva licked the yogurt from her spoon. He stared at his plate, then went for the apple. Anything to avoid watching her tongue slide around on that spoon.
“Channel 7 loves her. The viewers love her.” Eva nibbled on a cracker. “I’m really proud of her.”
Todd knocked back a long swallow of water before placing his glass back on the table. “You haven’t done so bad yourself. Pierce raved about you to Victoria.”
“I’m happy.” She reached for an apple slice.
She didn’t ask about his career or whether he was happy or if his brother Kevin was okay. The only part that surprised him was Kevin. His brother had been just a toddler when their father abandoned them. Their mother had died a few months earlier and there was no known extended family. Kevin had been adopted quickly, but Todd hadn’t been so lucky. He’d spent the next twelve years of his life in foster homes. It wasn’t until college that his little brother found him. They’d been damned close since. Eva was the only woman he’d ever taken to Christmas dinner with Kevin. He had loved her. She always asked about Kevin after that...at least until Todd left. Then again, he couldn’t really hold that against her since he hadn’t exactly been around for her when her mother died. He pushed the sensitive memory away.
The rest of the not-so-yummy and definitely not-filling meal was consumed without conversation. She rinsed her plate and placed it in the dishwasher. He pushed in his chair and followed her lead with the cleanup. “If only we had dessert.”
She didn’t smile. Instead she walked to the cabinets, put the crackers away and withdrew a tub of cake frosting. She shoved it at him. “Chocolate. Enjoy.”
Really? He put the frosting back in the cabinet and joined her in the living room. Since she obviously had no desire to catch up, he might as well move on to business. “How much do you know about the True Disciples?”
She curled up in one of the two chairs and started channel surfing with the sound muted. “Only what the police told me.”
He took the other seat. Since she kept the volume off he viewed that as an invitation to talk. “Miguel Robles’s father, Jorge, immigrated to Chicago in the ’80s. He became deeply involved in the Latin Disciples. About fifteen years ago, there was a falling-out between Jorge and the leader of the Latin Disciples. Jorge walked away, starting his own band of merry men. Five years later, Jorge found himself facing cancer, so he started the transition of power to Miguel. A decade from now Miguel, since he has no children of his own, would likely have been doing the same with Diego.”
With her sister’s channel on the screen, Eva set the remote aside and turned her attention to Todd. “He sees me as the person who not only stole his younger brother’s life but also as the p
erson who turned his entire future upside down.”
The situation was far graver than she understood. “Avenging Diego’s death is a matter of honor, Eva. Whatever else happens, he has no choice but to kill you or lose face. Personally, I don’t understand why the police didn’t take you into protective custody.”
She glared at him as if he’d offended her. “Your boss said there aren’t enough resources to go around.”
Victoria was right about that part, but the sheer enormity of the situation should have prompted a stronger reaction. Not that he was suggesting the police didn’t want to stop Miguel, but sometimes he wondered if their priorities were in order.
“That’s true,” he admitted. “But some cases fall outside the parameters of the norm. Those cases should be evaluated differently. Yours, in my humble opinion, is one of those cases.”
She laughed. “You’ve never been humble in your life.” With that announcement, she pushed up from her chair and walked to the window.
Maybe there was a time when her pronouncement was true, but not anymore. He hesitated only a moment before joining her. On the street below the traffic was heavy. The neighborhood was a nice one. Towering, mature trees lined the street. Much-desired shopping and restaurants were only a few blocks away. He’d driven past her building more than once since his return to Chicago last year. Mentioning that too-telling fact would hardly be a good thing, he decided.
“I’m sure you’re aware that the police see you as their first real opportunity to get this guy.”
She nodded. “Your boss mentioned it.”
“I can understand how much they want him and the idea that using you as bait somehow serves the greater good, but I’m not them. My job is to protect you at all costs.”
She glanced at him, the worry in her eyes tugging at his gut.
“So let’s not make you an easy target by standing in front of this window.” He touched her arm. She stiffened but he curled his fingers around the soft limb anyway and gently tugged her back to the pair of chairs they had deserted.
Rather than sit down, she stared up at him. She searched his eyes, worry clouding hers. “Do you really believe you can stop him?” She licked her lips, drawing his attention there. He remembered her taste as vividly as if he’d only just kissed her. “That all by yourself,” she said, dragging him from the forbidden memory, “you can somehow do what the police haven’t been able to do in what? A decade?”
No matter the seriousness of her question, this close he almost smiled at the small sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks. She had hated those tiny freckles and he had loved them. This close he noticed there was a line or two on her gorgeous face that hadn’t been there before, but those fine lines only added to her beauty. He wanted her to trust him. He desperately wanted her to believe in him again. Whatever else she thought of him, he would never lie to her. He hadn’t lied all those years ago and he wasn’t about to start now.
“First, I don’t operate by the same rules as the police. Giving them grace, their hands are tied to some degree by the very laws they’ve sworn to uphold. Second, I can’t promise I’ll be able to stop Robles, but I can promise that I’ll die trying.”
* * *
EVA PULLED FREE of his touch and turned away from him. She couldn’t bear the way he looked at her...as if he truly cared. Of course he probably possessed some basic human compassion for her as a person but otherwise she was nothing more than an assignment and maybe a potential opportunity for sexual release. Not that finding willing women would be an issue for him—it hadn’t been a decade ago and it certainly wouldn’t be now. He was still incredibly handsome and far too charming.
She closed her eyes. So not fair, Eva. She didn’t know the man standing in her apartment right now. She knew the college guy he used to be. The super hot guy who seemed to show up in the library every Tuesday and Thursday evening just like she had. The guy with the beautiful lean, muscled body and scruffy, thick hair that made her want to twine her fingers in it while she traced every line and ridge of his healthy male body with her other hand. The guy who stole her heart and ruined her for anyone else.
Not once in ten years had she been kissed the way Todd Christian kissed her. Not a single time in the last decade had another man—not that there had been very many—made love to her the way Todd Christian had.
Eva hugged her arms around herself. What kind of fool permitted that guy back into her life?
A desperate one.
A splat, splat, splat echoed in the room. The window rattled in its frame. Eva instinctively backed up, her body bumping into his. Rivulets of red rained down from a cloud of red in the center of the window.
Todd pulled her behind the chairs. “Stay down while I have a look.”
He moved across the room and took a position next to the window, out of sight from whoever was out there firing something at her window. Eva peeked around the chair and studied the damage to the window. It didn’t appear broken or cracked. The splats looked like the ones made by a paintball gun.
Was this just another warning from the man who wanted his revenge?
“We need something to cover this window.”
Todd was suddenly standing over her, holding out his hand. She ignored it and stood. “I have extra sheets in the linen closet.”
He nodded. “You round those up while I give Detective Marsh an update.”
“Are you working with the police?” She didn’t know why she was surprised. The Colby Agency was a prominent firm. Her internet research had indicated that Victoria was known and respected by everyone who was anyone in Chicago. She’d been voted woman of the year more than once.
“Just keeping them up to speed on what’s going on. If I play nice, hopefully they’ll do the same for me.”
She nodded. Made sense. While he spoke to the detective she went to the bathroom. She’d tried really hard the past few days to stay strong. To keep it together. The first day, Saturday, hadn’t been so bad. Her sister had kept her mind off the horror of the previous night until Eva went unconscious from sheer exhaustion.
In the bathroom, she closed the door and sagged against it. But then the threats had begun. Eva was so thankful when Lena was sent out of town. No matter that her sister had wanted to stay and had insisted that she dove into the fray of danger every time she walked onto a hot news scene, this was different. Eva was the target. She felt certain this Miguel Robles would like nothing better than to use her sister to hurt her. At least she didn’t have to worry so much about that part right now. Lena would be in Washington, DC, for several days.
With her sister safely out of reach, Eva could focus on keeping herself alive.
The memory of her neighbor’s door nagged at her. Mrs. Cackowski had mentioned going to New York to visit her daughter. The plan was she would leave today and spend the upcoming Mother’s Day weekend with her daughter and her family. She would fly back next Tuesday. Mrs. Cackowski said flying on Tuesdays was cheaper. Eva wasn’t entirely sure that was true but the idea appeared to make the older lady happy.
The trouble was, the No Solicitors magnet was not on her door. Mrs. Cackowski and Eva had a routine. Whenever her neighbor was away from home, whether for the day or for a week, she put the magnet on her door. When she returned, it was removed. This way, even if Eva missed talking to her she knew to keep an eye on the elderly woman’s apartment. She usually left a key with Eva so she could water her plants if it was an extended vacation, but not this time.
Maybe her neighbor’s flight had been changed at the last minute. If Mrs. Cackowski would break down and get a cell phone, Eva could call and check with her. She should probably call the property manager and tell him about the red paint—or whatever it was—all over her window. The two windows in her apartment didn’t open so it wasn’t like she could clean it up herself. Since she faced the street her neighbors wouldn’t be happy abou
t the unsightly mess.
A knock on the door had her jumping away from it. “You okay in there?”
Eva put her hand to her throat. “Fine. I just need a moment.”
She went to the sink and turned on the water. How was she supposed to deal with all this? Her actions had caused a man’s death. Shouldn’t she feel something besides empty and cold about it by now? Last night a patient had required a psychological consult. After the doctor had assessed the patient, Eva had spoken to the psychiatrist briefly about what happened to her. He’d warned that she was in the shock and denial phase right now. In time the reality would hit and she might fall apart.
Start counseling now, he’d warned.
Like every other nurse and doctor she knew, the last person she wanted to spend time fixing was herself. It was far easier to take care of everyone else’s problems. Funny how she’d worked so hard and long to keep her life simple. Work, eat, sleep and repeat. Once in a great while she bothered with dating.
How had her simple existence turned so suddenly complicated?
Maybe the shrink had been right about the shock and denial. She had pretty much been attempting to pretend Friday night never happened. She might have been successful if not for the continued threats.
After splashing some water on her face, she reached for the hand towel and dabbed her skin dry. At this point she didn’t know if she had enough time left to reach the reality phase.
She could be dead before then.
Chapter Four
Wednesday, May 9, 8:15 a.m.
Eva scarcely slept at all. Between worrying about what the gang leader Miguel Robles might do next and the idea that Todd Christian was on her sofa, how could she hope to sleep? At some point after two this morning, she’d finally drifted to sleep only to dream about being chased by killers. She’d jerked awake in a cold sweat to the sound of the shower.
For the next several minutes she’d battled with her errant mind and its inability to control the wellspring of images involving Todd Christian naked in her shower. When he’d finished and she was certain he’d moved to the kitchen, she reluctantly headed to the bathroom. With the water as hot as she could bear it, she still couldn’t wash away the scent of him...it clung to the tile walls, to the bar of homemade soap a friend had given her, insisting that no bodywash on the planet could compete. Despite rinsing the soap thoroughly, simply smoothing the bar over her skin aroused her. Shivers tumbled over her skin with every slow stroke. Her nipples hardened with the sweet ache of need and she once again found herself fighting to keep memories of their lovemaking at bay. How could those memories still be so vivid? So intoxicating?