by Zoe Mullins
“Have you talked to David?” she asked. Since Suzie would tell them little about what had happened, they had resorted to trying to reach David.
“No, not yet.” He ran his hands down her shoulders. He felt how tense she was. Her shoulders must be aching. “But if I don’t get a hold of him soon, Jack and I will go down and talk to him.”
Rebecca smiled. “Thank you.” She sighed against her husband’s chest, her cheek resting on the warm cotton of his sweater.
“Thank me by coming out onto the deck and joining me in a glass of wine.”
* * * * *
The lasagna was in the oven to reheat. The fresh bread would only need a few minutes to warm after Chet left. Jackson glanced around the kitchen and nodded. Everything was under control. Even his raging hormones.
The Liberator definitely belongs in the bedroom. He smiled, thankful he’d had to foresight to move it up from the dungeon. He could already hear himself trying to explain it to his mother next time she was over. It’s a lounger for reading, he would tell her, and with his luck, she’d ask for one for Christmas.
“Is this okay?” Cait walked into the kitchen wearing one of hisdress shirts over her yoga capris. “I really didn’t pack anything as I figured I’d spend most of the weekend naked.” The shirt was more like a dress on her, so she had stolen one of his ties to use as a belt, and she had rolled up the sleeves so that they stopped just below her elbows.
She tried but couldn’t hide that she had spent the afternoon fucking. Her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes were glittering. If one knew to look, they would see the faint outline from the restraints pressed into her wrists and ankles and a bruise forming on her collarbone where he had sucked on her skin.
She looked delicious, and wild and feminine.
“Very respectable.” He pulled her close, his arm locked around her waist, and kissed her. A short, friendly peck on her already kiss-swollen lips. “Are you sore?”
“Everywhere,” she teased.
He laughed. He would take care of those hurts later with a nice soak in the hot tub. “He should be here in a couple of minutes. I poured you a glass of wine.”
“Thanks.” She took a sip of the nearly purple-colored Merlot. “Should I be drinking when he gets here? Will that look bad?”
Jack laughed. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You had something done to you. Just relax. Besides. Chet’s your friendly neighborhood RCMP, not the Gestapo.”
Jack welcomed Constable Chet Adams and his new partner Constable Lisa Scott a few minutes later, and brought them into the dining room. Jack had known Chet for a few years but Lisa Scott was new in town.
Scottlooked petite but strong. She had width across her shoulders and her short legs looked powerful. However, her face could only be described as elfin. Big dark eyes. Porcelain skin. Naturally coral lips. Her hair was short, its loose curls framing a pretty heart-shape face.
Scott opened her notepad and began asking questions of Cait. How long had she lived in town? Where was she before this? Was this her first business? How was it going? Were there any other studios in the area that could be unhappy her place was stealing clients.
Cait answered quietly as Jack and Chet stood back and listened. She quickly explained her move back to town, not giving any more detail than was asked or required.
“The restaurant next to you closed up at two a.m. and according to the night manager, it was status quo next door,” Scott explained.
“So the vandalism happened between two and eight this morning.”
“If it was vandalism, yes, it would appear so.”
“What do you mean if it was vandalism?” Caitasked.
“Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts at that time?” Scott asked.
“Chet? Really?” Jack asked, frustration blooming. They couldn’t suspect that Cait would vandalize her own property.
Before Chet could respond, Scott said, “We have to ask these questions, sir. New businesses like this…” She shrugged, turning back to Cait. “Owners could be looking to make an insurance claim. The place will have to be painted now, won’t it?”
“Look, Jack,” Chet explained. “There have been no other incidents like this reported. So if it’s not the owner, we could be looking at something totally random, or something totally personal.”
“The question doesn’t matter, Jack,” Cait reminded him. “I was with Jackson all night until I went in to work at eight this morning.”
“How were Logan’s family after his death? His mom and stepdad still live in the area, right?” Chet asked. “Were they upset at you moving back here? With you dating Jack again?”
“Unlikely,” Cait told him, “I doubt they even kept tabs on what happened to me. We never saw them while we were married.” She turned her gaze to Scott. “And as for wanting the insurance so I could get a new paint job on the studio. As you can see I’ve taken up with the head of largest construction company in this part of the province. I can guarantee that paint job won’t be costing me a dime.”
“So we’re probably looking at something totally random,” Chet confirmed. “That gives us a place to start.” Chet pulled Jack aside as Scott asked just a few more questions of Cait.
“This isn’t random,” Chet told him.
“I know. I don’t like what it said,” he confirmed. “We’re taking turns to make sure she has someone close at all times.”
Chet nodded and fished in the pocket of his vest for his business card. “You call me if anything happens. Even if it seems random and unrelated. Call me.” Jack palmed the card and slipped it into his jeans pocket.
Cait and Constable Scott were walking toward them. “Mrs. McKenzie has my card,” she said as she joined her partner.
“And I’ve promised to callif anything else happens.” Cait held up Scott’s card. “Which I am sure it won’t. This has to be some teenagers or something, having too much to drink.”
Chet looked over at her. “Anything else odd that I need to know about?” he asked her.
Jackson watched as Cait bit her lip and knew she was hiding something. “Spit it out, Cait.”
The officers looked at her, and she sighed. “Just after the studio opened there were a few notes slipped under the door, or left on the front counter.”
“Hate mail?” Chet asked. “Do you still have any of the letters?”
Cait shook her head. “They weren’t threatening really. One justsaid, Your kind isn’t wanted here.” Jackson pressed his hand reassuringly against the back of her neck. “Another said, Get out of town.”
“How many in total?” Chat asked.
“Maybe half a dozen.”
Jackson growled at her response.
“Any similar to the writing on your door this morning?” Lisa prompted.
“None that called me a whore.”
Scott wrote the information down on her little notepad, then, with a final nod, the officers left.
“When were you planning on telling me about this?” Jackson backed her up against the island.
“You distracted me with orgasms, Sir.” She stuck out her lower lip in a girlish pout.
“Boo-boo lip isn’t going to get you out of this.” He stepped back.
“You don’t think it was random, do you?”
“If it was random, then the message would have been random. A gang tag or some other art, or a simple cuss word.” He swiped a hand back through his hair, not liking to think that she could be in danger.
“I didn’t think they were that big a deal.”
“They are. Now do yourself a favor and strip.”
Cait hastily obeyed, laying the clothes over the stool, even though she was still arguing. “Whore is a cuss word.”
“It didn’t just say whore,” he told her, deciding she needed to know why he was so concerned. “It said Die Whore. Do you have any idea how much that scares me? It was a threat to you.”
He saw her swallow hard. “Sophie didn’t tell me that.”
&n
bsp; “I know she didn’t. She was too freaked out by it herself. She wants Chet to take care of it, but in the meantime, I’m taking care of you.” He stalked toward her and hauled her over his shoulder. “And I will paddle your ass for not telling me about the notes.”
“I thought you were hungry,” she protested, from her position upside down.
“Oh darling.” He gave her his best lazy maritime drawl. “The only thing I am hungry for now is you.”
Chapter Fifteen
She was dodging his calls and it pissed him off. Suzanne wouldn’t return Mom’s and Dad’s calls either. After giving her a couple of days to cool off, Jack decided to drive out to the house she had rented and check on her.
The house was in a newer part of town. It was a nice slate-blue raised bungalow with white trim. It was a short two blocks from the beach at Baker’s Cove, and in fact, all the streets in the area had played with the baker theme.
The little bungalow Suzie was renting was on Patisserie Point. Her car was in the drive and the children’s toys lay haphazard around the yard. He could hear Layla laughing in the backyard, so he walked on through.
Layla was in the kiddie pool, while Hank was asleep in his playpen in the shade. Layla ran to him and wrapped her very wet little self around his legs. He grabbed her up into his arms, which made sure he was soaked from head to toe.
Suzie turned from her gardening and looked at Jack. For a moment, he read a scowl on her face, but it quickly evaporated. She put down the trowel and stripped off her mud-covered gloves.
“Jack, I didn’t realize you were going to stop by today.” She relieved Jack of the squirming girl in his arms and set her down. With a pat on the rear she sent Layla back out in the yard to play. “Can I get you something to drink?” She gestured to the pitcher of lemonade on the patio table.
He nodded as she poured glasses for the two of them and a sippy cup for Layla.
“We just hadn’t heard from you for a few days and with you and Mom having a fight, I wanted to make sure you and the kids were okay.”
“A fight?”
“On Saturday. Mom said you were pretty upset when you left.”
“Oh, I guess I was.” She shrugged. “You know how it is with mothers and daughters. You say things. She says things. I guess that could be called a fight.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. She really thought it was no big deal. She hadn’t returned any of their calls for days. Even when he had called to see if he could take them all out for ice cream last night he only spoke to the answering machine.
“I think Mom and Dad are under the impression you aren’t talking to them.”
“Why would they think that? That’s silly!”
“You didn’t return anyone’s calls.”
“Oh.” She looked as if she were remembering something. “The damn phone line here. I need to get Bell to come and check that out. I don’t think it’s working correctly.”
He nodded. “I can call the technician we use to come and check it out for you, if you’d like.”
“I would love that,” she said happily. “That would be such a timesaver. I spend most of my day running after Layla or feeding and changing little Hank.”
“Sure I will set that up.” He took a long swallow of the perfectly sweetened lemonade. “I also wanted to talk to you about what happened at dinner last week with Cait.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t really want to talk about her.”
“I think it’s important, don’t you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I thought about it and you will get tired of Logan’s seconds soon enough and move on. She’s not the marrying kind or you would have married her the first time around.”
She turned her attention to Layla, who was picking a dandelion bouquet. “Don’t forget to put them in water!” she yelled to Layla and pointed to a paper cup for the flowers.
“That’s not fair, Suzie. And even if it was, that is my business. I would have married her then, and I will marry her now.”
“No. You won’t.” She was shaking her head.
“I know you are upset about Logan.”
“No, you don’t know,” she said seriously, her eyes narrowing. “He loved me, and if it hadn’t been for her, we would have been together.”
Jack was sure nothing could have been further from the truth.
“I am sureyou think so, but Logan wasn’t the right kind of man for you, sweetheart. Whatever you think you could have had with him, wouldn’t have worked out.”
“You don’t know that.” Her eyes darkened with anger, but then she shook it off, and gave a nervous laugh. “But it doesn’t matter anymore anyway. No one can change the past.”
He nodded. “No, we can’t.” He laid one hand over hers. “I am sorry if they hurt you too. Neither of them set out to do that.”
She let him hold her hand for a minute and then shrugged it off as she stood. “Can you stay for lunch?”
“No, I better get back to work. I have a site inspection in half an hour.”
He left feeling only a little better than he had when he arrived. He couldn’t get over that she thought there was something between her and Logan. Something that Cait had come between.
As far as he knew, Suzie had only seen Logan a handful of times after she had graduated high school. Maybe the crush went back further, though he knew Logan wouldn’t have encouraged it. Suzie had never been his type.
He sighed. At the least he could let Mom know that Suzie was fine and considered the fight a moot point. Mom would likely be confused but pleased.
* * * * *
Cait was pleased to see Sam coming to class more regularly and like today, even on her own. Not that she minded when Sam’s hot husband came, but she got the impression that Sam, like her, was trying to do things on her own.
The lunch-hour power-flow class was the most popular class and her class was nearly overflowing. Cait couldn’t help the sense of pride and accomplishment that washed over her as she looked at her studio and her students. She had done it.
She guided the class out of Savasana, ending with their hands at heart center as they bowed together. “Namaste,” they said in unison.
As the class gathered their things, she glanced out the window and saw the crew that Jack had sent coming back from their lunch break. She nodded to them through the patio doors.
“I heard about what happened,” said a quiet voice beside her. “But it looks like the guys will have it repainted this week.
“Yes. It does.” She turned to the tiny blonde. “Thank you, Sam.”
“For what?”
“For not being too uncomfortable to mention it.”
She shrugged. “Do they have any idea who did it?”
Cait sighed. “Not that they are saying. It was probably just random. My turn for some bad luck.”
Sam didn’t look convinced. “Don’t do that.” She looked grim. “Don’t brush it off as nothing. If your gut is saying it’s something more, then trust it.”
“I don’t know. I could just be paranoid, and that’s not helpful.”
“Yes. Yes it is.” Sam absently rubbed her neck. “I wish I had been more paranoid.”
“What happened?” Cait asked, then thought better of it. She didn’t want to put Sam on the spot or make her uncomfortable. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Even though they were alone, Samlooked around the studio to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard.
“I was working at one of the top restaurants in Vancouver. I was the pastry chef and my creations were well known and just beginning to win awards. They were that good.” She smiled proudly. “I loved what I did. I loved the spotlight and attention that I was receiving. Rationally I know I’m not to blame, but maybe I shouldn’t have liked the attention so much. Because it drew a stalker to me.”
“Oh sweetie.” Cait drew her in for an encouraging embrace, which Sam tentatively returned.
“She played into my ego a
t first, saying she wanted to learn from me. She worked in our kitchen too, so I thought hey, sure. I was happy to teach her, but then things got weird, just a little at a time.
“The bank called because we had applied for a loan for us to open our own restaurant that I knew nothing about. She had my account information, my credit history. She had the whole business plan put together with what looked like my signature.”
Cait couldn’t hide her surprise that someone would do that. It seemed like a plot straight out of a movie.
“It came to a head because the bank called the cops. She had stolen my account information. She was trying to set up a loan in my name. She came to restaurant that night furious. She started screaming at me in the kitchen and pointing a knife at whoever got too close. She was scary good with a knife. But she couldn’t get close enough, and the staff had called the police. We could hear sirens coming. I thought they would get there and take her into custody.”
Cait squeezed her hand.
“Okay, so maybe that was a little naïve,” she conceded with a wry laugh. “She couldn’t get close enough to me to stab me, so she picked up a pot of boiling oil and threw it at me. I turned, shielding my face, but the oil hit my neck, shoulder, splashed down my side. Well, you can see what it did.”
“What happened then?”
Sam stared at Cait for a minute then said, “Thank you, for not being afraid to ask that question.” She took another deep breath. “As the crazy bitch is watching me scream in pain, our sous-chef whacks her upside the head with a frying pan and knocks her out. The police arrived moments later, and the paramedics shortly after that. I went to the hospital.”
“I hope the bitch is rotting in a jail cell.”
“Close. She is in a psych ward for what I hope will be the rest of her life. And I moved across the country to start new.”
“With Patrick?”
“No.” Sam grinned. “Patrick came after. He’s what I like to think of as my reward for a surviving a particularly shitty time.”
“Sweet reward.” Cait winked.
“Don’t I know it?” Sam’s grin was short-lived. “I don’t want to be a cautionary tale, but if it helps, so be it. Listen to your gut. If you don’t think this was random, or just teen vandals, then don’t take any chances.”