Behind the Red Doors

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “New jewelry store down on Michigan Avenue in a swanky place called The Red Doors. Try not to touch anything.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Saturday afternoon, February 1, 2003

  CARTER FUMED during the drive to Michigan Avenue, gripping the steering wheel of his SUV until his hands cramped. “Traffic’s a freaking nightmare,” he rumbled. “Where did all these people come from? Don’t they have anything better to do on a Saturday than to clog the streets?”

  In the passenger seat, his adopted yellow Labrador, Trudy, lifted her head and barked.

  “I’m not talking to myself. I’m talking to you.”

  She cocked her head.

  “What, are you in on this…this…this citywide intervention to force me to be a nicer person?”

  She barked again.

  “Yeah? Well, what if it’s not my problem? Maybe everyone else has the problem—did you ever think of that? Using their pop-psych analysis to try to figure out why I’m not Mr. Sunshine all the time. I’m a cop—what the hell do they expect?”

  Trudy laid her head on the console and telegraphed sympathy with her eyes.

  “You know, my sister thinks I adopted you because I was lonely. I tried to explain that you just showed up at the station and followed me around until I had no choice but to take you home. She wouldn’t listen. Like most females, she just jumped to her own damned conclusion.”

  Let’s face it, Carter, you are not commitment material.

  He cursed and wiped a hand over his mouth. Faith Sherman’s last words were only haunting him because it was getting close to that time of year again when men were expected to prove their devotion by coughing up an expensive bauble or making a big production out of dinner or doing something really crazy like popping the question just so a woman could brag that her man outdid everyone else’s man. He knew Valentine’s Day was encroaching because he’d circled the damn date on his calendar, in red. Just in case he was involved in another promising situation, he didn’t want to muck things up by asking the woman to do something on that day.

  Not commitment material? He was just as much commitment material as most of the guys he knew—maybe even more so. He paid his rent on time. He picked up after himself…mostly. He rarely let the trash overflow onto the floor. He wouldn’t mind sharing a television remote because he had two televisions in the living room—one for pro sports and one for college sports. The reason he left the commode lid up was so that Trudy could drink from the toilet bowl if she had the urge. He didn’t snore…much. And he didn’t care about most things enough to argue about them.

  He was too commitment material—it just so happened he didn’t want to be tied down to one woman. Responsibility. Monogamy.

  And he flatly refused to believe that his mental state had suffered over the past several months because of her offhand dismissal. Okay, her dumping him had thrown him at first, but on mere principle, not because he felt anything special for her. After all, they hadn’t even slept together—it was just a few casual dates of bowling and pool. She hadn’t given him time to work his way up to darts. If things had still been going well after that, his next step would’ve been to think of some way to talk her into going to bed with him.

  Of course, from the looks of her that night, she might have been willing to skip a few steps.

  Still, in hindsight, it would have been a matter of time anyway before she noticed that he wasn’t up to snuff for the daughter of D. H. Sherman. Better for things to have ended when they did in the unlikely event that he would have developed some kind of feelings for her. After all, hadn’t she told him she was looking for a re-la-tion-ship?

  Trudy barked, and he reached over to scratch her head. “You’re the only woman I need in my life, old girl. I’ll be in a better mood soon—I’m just in a slump, that’s all.” He flexed his left leg as much as the floorboard would allow. “And my leg is making me cranky.”

  Maybe Captain Stewart was right, maybe he did need a change of scenery for a few days. He slowed as the storefront came into view. The Red Doors. He whistled low at the prime corner location, the elegant signage, the red awning over the enormous set of doors. This would definitely be a change from the bad neighborhoods and dark alleys he usually patrolled. Well-heeled men and women strolled the sidewalks of the high-end retail area, suits and dress coats prevailed.

  He looked down at his jeans and leather jacket. “Think they’ll let me in?”

  Trudy seemed more optimistic than he felt. He pulled into the parking garage and surrendered his key and a twenty to a somber-looking attendant. “Watch my dog for a few minutes, will you, pal?”

  The man looked uncertain, but took the money with a gloved hand and nodded.

  Carter took a minute to look at his reflection in the side mirror. The ball cap was probably a bad idea. He yanked it off and ran his hand through his hair to displace the distinct flattened ridge. He hadn’t cut his hair since he’d been on sick leave, and it was well below regulation length, flipping up on the ends. But it would have to do. He tossed the cap inside. “What’s the quickest way to get to that Red Doors place?”

  The man looked him up and down, then pointed mutely to the nearest exit sign.

  “Much obliged.”

  The exit took him to a sidewalk that led to the entrance. The two immense doors opened into a small enclosed foyer, with a waist-high mahogany counter on the right, sporting a brass plaque that read Package Pickup. A few feet behind the counter, an elevator opened and a tall, older gentleman alighted carrying two wrapped packages.

  “Yes, sir, how may I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a place called The Diamond Mine.”

  One of the doors leading to the interior opened and an attractive middle-aged blonde stuck her head out. “Alfred, if Mrs. Bangs stops to pick up those packages, don’t you dare let her shake them.”

  The stiff-backed man frowned hard. “I’m with a customer.”

  The woman turned her gaze to Carter, and he got the feeling that she liked what she saw. Then she squinted. “Are you here about the security job?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  The older man made an impatient noise. “I was just about to send him up to see Miss F—”

  “Alfred,” the woman said rather sharply. “I’ll show the gentleman to the jewelry store.” She turned a curving smile toward Carter. “Won’t you follow me, Mr….?”

  “Lieutenant Grayson of the Chicago P.D., ma’am.”

  She led him through the doors into a spacious lobby with checkerboard marble floors. “Lieutenant? My, my. Can you tell me the time, Lieutenant Grayson?”

  He was busy taking in the lavish surroundings. “Sorry, ma’am. I’ve never gotten into the habit of wearing a watch.”

  She made a disappointed noise. “That’s too bad. You just might be late for something important someday.”

  “TRY THIS ONE.” Faith smiled at her customer, a paunchy man who had come in supposedly browsing for a gift for his wife, but had wound up looking at pinky rings for himself. She had learned rather quickly that adding a few men’s items to the mostly female selection would be a boon. At the man’s request, Faith held up a small mirror so he could see how the ring would look when he shook hands.

  “It’s not too pretentious?” he asked, biting his lip.

  The showroom door opened and Faith glanced up. “Not—” Her voice disappeared in a squeak as her eyes sent a message to her brain that it wouldn’t accept. Carter? She blinked and her heart stalled painfully. Impossible. Why would he be here?

  He hadn’t come to see her, judging from the look of surprise on his face that must have rivaled the look on hers. His lips parted and he stood with his hand on the doorknob, his gaze boring into hers. Time stood still as a dozen emotions collided within her. Hadn’t she fantasized of this moment, of running into him unexpectedly?

  “Hello,” he would say.

  “Hello,” she would say, and then tilt her head. “I’m sorry, I
can’t seem to remember your name.”

  And he would say, “Funny, I can’t seem to forget yours.”

  And they would—

  “Miss?”

  She jerked her attention back to her customer. “Yes?”

  “I said, you don’t think it’s too pretentious?”

  “Er, no.” She looked back at Carter who was slowly walking toward her. She was torn between the crazy urge to run away and the crazier urge to run into his arms. “Would you excuse me for a moment, sir?” She stepped forward and into the curve of the U-shaped display case. Carter stopped opposite her. Faith was glad to have the two feet of glass barrier between them as she forced her mouth upward at the corners. “Hello, Carter.” His face was thinner, his hair longer, his eyes greener.

  He gave her a curt nod. “Hello, Faith. I didn’t expect to find you working here.”

  She willed her racing vital signs to slow. “This is my place.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Yours?”

  “Yes. Mine and my partner’s.”

  “Your partner?”

  “My business partner, Jamie Ruskin. She’s my best friend actually. You didn’t meet Jamie…before.”

  “Oh.”

  She clasped her hands together. “So, are you looking for a gift?”

  “Hmm? Oh, no.” He laughed and scratched his temple. “Actually, my captain sent me here, something about security for a special rock?”

  Faith gaped. “You?” Then she caught herself. “I mean, I thought he was sending someone expendable—I mean…someone on light duty.” She swallowed and started again. “I would think you’d be too high-ranking for…security work.”

  The hint of a smile danced on his mouth. “I thought the same thing.” He shifted awkwardly, favoring his left leg. “But I’m recuperating from an injury and I’m on light duty for a couple more weeks.”

  She put her hands behind her back to keep from reaching out to him. “You were wounded?”

  “Nothing serious,” he said, but she didn’t quite believe him.

  His gaze tracked hers, and they were silent. Seconds ticked off, and she thought her chest might burst from the breath she held. At last she exhaled. “I don’t think this arrangement would be a good idea.”

  “You’re right,” he said, nodding.

  “You’d probably be bored silly here, and, well…it could be awkward.”

  “I’ll explain to my captain that we’re…acquainted. He’ll find someone else.”

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and felt more in control. She glanced around to make sure that her assistant, Stacy, was handling the customers, then looked back to Carter. Alarm was beginning to set in that he looked so good to her, even better than she remembered. “So, how are you? Um, other than the wound, of course.”

  “I’m great.”

  Faith nodded. “That’s great.”

  “You?”

  “Oh, I’m great.”

  He looked around the showroom. “It looks like things are great.”

  “Yes. Things are…great.”

  He glanced back and rubbed his chin. “When you mentioned something about a partner, I thought maybe you’d gotten married.”

  She lifted one hand to toy with the initial pin on the lapel of her jacket. “No, I’m not married.” She laughed. “I don’t suppose you’re married?”

  “Me? No.” He joined her laughter.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  After a few seconds Carter stopped laughing, but she didn’t seem to notice. A slow burn started in his stomach that she was so amused by the idea of him settling down. You are not commitment material.

  “But I am living with someone,” he blurted.

  She stopped laughing and her remarkable ice-blue eyes widened. “Really? That’s…great.”

  Vindication barbed through his chest. So what if it wasn’t true—Faith didn’t have to know. “Yeah, we’re really committed to each other.”

  “Oh.”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “In fact,” he said, peering into the cases around him, “I’m planning to pop the question on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Why wait around when you find the right woman?”

  She smiled. “Why indeed. Congratulations.”

  He deflated a bit. What had he expected—that she would burst into flames of jealousy? “Er, thanks.”

  Across the showroom, a young woman lifted her hand. “Faith?”

  Faith nodded, then looked back. “I need to get back to work, but it was good to see you, Carter. I hope everything goes well with the wedding.”

  Carter swallowed and tried to smile—even though it was all make-believe, the word wedding still hit him hard. He watched her walk away from him, tall and statuesque, with enough curves for a man to get his hands around. Her black, black hair, startling against her fair complexion, skimmed her shoulders. Her nose and cheekbones were model-perfect, her lips wide and berry-red. And those eyes…a man could grow old and never tire of looking into them. And now that he was faced with the thought of walking out of here and possibly never seeing her again, his big dumb feet wouldn’t move. On the other hand, he couldn’t think of a good reason to stay. Feeling much the way he did the night he’d watched her drive away in the cab, he turned and started toward the door, massaging his left thigh, which had begun to throb.

  The customer that Faith had been attending when he had walked in was moving toward the door at the same time, but his body language was all wrong—walking too fast, seeming too intent on the exit. All of Carter’s senses went on alert. He looked back to see Faith’s gaze jump from the man back to the counter where he’d been seated.

  “Sir,” she said, her voice just short of panicked. “The ring! Stop!”

  Instead the man made a run for the door. Carter moved out of instinct, sprinting the few steps it took to overtake the man, then tackling him in front of the door. When they landed, white-hot pain ripped through Carter’s leg, stealing his breath. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his good knee while wrestling the man’s hands behind his back. “I’m a police officer. Be still, dammit, or I’ll shoot you.” He didn’t even have his weapon on him, but the threat worked.

  “Don’t shoot,” the man cried. “The ring’s in my pocket. Take it back, please. Don’t arrest me.”

  Carter held him down with one hand and felt in the man’s jacket pocket with the other. He pulled out the ring and handed it to Faith, who stood nearby, white-faced. “Call the police,” he said.

  “Stacy is doing it right now,” she said in a strained voice. “You’re hurt.”

  He shook his head. “Nah.” Truth be known, aside from his burning leg, he felt pretty darn good—it was the adrenaline rush. And it wasn’t every day that a man got to be a hero in front of a girl he…didn’t hate. “If you get up,” he told the man, “I’ll shoot you.” With a bit of teeth grinding, Carter stood and took a few deep breaths until the worst of the pain subsided. He lowered his voice for Faith’s ears only. “Tell me your security is better than yelling ‘stop’ as the thief runs out the door.”

  Faith nodded, but bit into her lip. “It is, but I’m starting to think it could use some tweaking considering the crowds the Valentino diamond might be bringing in.”

  “This Valentino diamond, that’s the guard assignment?”

  “Yes. I thought it would help increase foot traffic before Valentine’s Day.”

  The disturbing sensation he felt when he thought he was walking out of her life was still fresh. He had an inexplicably perverse desire to spend more time with her, and the opportunity to do it was staring him in the face. Before he could consider the ramifications, he said, “Maybe I’ll take that assignment, after all. I could review your general security measures while I’m at it.” He attempted a casual shrug. “That is…if you think it wouldn’t be too awkward.”

  She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity. He was on the verge of withdraw
ing his offer when she gave him a small smile. “I think it’s clear that I— I mean, we—need someone like you around.” She extended her hand as if to set the boundaries of their interaction. “You’re hired, Lieutenant Grayson.”

  Carter shook her hand, but the jolt of awareness that shot through him when his fingers touched hers left him with the foreboding that this assignment could prove to be the most dangerous of his career.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Monday morning, February 3, 2003

  “BREATHTAKING,” Stacy murmured.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Faith looked from the spectacular twenty-seven-carat Valentino diamond safely tucked away under bulletproof glass to where Carter stood a few feet away. He was reviewing a procedure checklist with Ben Sills, the armed guard who’d delivered the stone and would be sharing security duties with Carter. Dressed in his navy uniform, Carter was an imposing figure, and reminiscent of the way he’d looked when she’d first met him after a robbery attempt at Zerrick’s Jewelry where she used to work. She told herself her gaze kept straying to Carter because he was an unfamiliar presence in the store, but, in truth, for the past two days she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the fact that she’d apparently underestimated his capacity to settle down.

  Why wait around when you find the right woman?

  “Hey, listen to this,” Stacy said, reading from a brochure. “The stone has a love legend. A man named Adrian Valentino bought a diamond mine to find the largest, most perfect diamond possible for his bride-to-be. When this twenty-seven-plus-carat diamond was discovered, he had it set aside for a pendant. But his true love died before they could be married. He claimed her spirit was in the stone, and remained unmarried so he could join her when he died. Says here that if you look into the diamond and the light is shining just so, you’ll see their two hearts entwined.” Stacy looked up. “Spooky, huh?”

  Faith made a noncommittal sound and pressed her fingers against a twinge in her temple. She’d barely been able to concentrate Saturday after Carter had left the store. Yesterday he’d shown up about an hour before the Valentino stone arrived, but, thankfully, she’d been able to attribute her nervousness to the brouhaha surrounding the diamond. They’d barely exchanged enough words to constitute a conversation, yet she’d gotten even less sleep last night than the previous one. She’d spent long, dark hours replaying his features in her mind, reliving her reaction to seeing him again…and obsessing over the woman who had captured his big heart.