Crimes of Passion

by Toni Anderson

  Without questioning her motives further, he rose from his seat and strode across the room towards her. Unable to look him in the eye, she glanced out at the street. He marched past her, and the smell of his aftershave was enough to make her change her mind, but obstinacy stopped her. She closed the door as soon as he stepped onto the path. There was no way on earth she could watch him any longer, walking away, her heart shattering into tiny pieces.

  Had she been right to tell him to leave? Did he really have anything to do with the hold-up?

  Nicole slowly put the chain on the front door and bolted it at the top and the bottom, thankful that she had the locks installed and that she wouldn’t have to fork out any added expense to secure her property and their safety. Then the prospect of giving away her savings shrouded her like a suffocating cloak.

  She took the mugs through to the kitchen and did the same with the back door. Then she ran a hot bath. Sinking into the lavender scented bubbles she closed her eyes, two images vied for a place in her mind’s eye. The first was of the masked intruder, while the second was of Josh’s tanned, handsome features six inches from hers before he’d swooped down and taken her breath away with that kiss. She pushed the first image behind the one of Josh, and without realising it her hands caressed her body beneath the water, imagining her hands were his. She languished in the bath for another half an hour, dressed in the comfort of her pyjamas, and settled on the couch with a plate of cheese and biscuits. It was all she could manage to eat. Even then, she left half of what she’d prepared. As the night drew in, her house, the place she’d always regarded as a safe haven at the end of a long day, took on a sinister feel. Every hour or so, she left the couch to check both doors, back and front, were still securely fastened. At ten o’clock, she brought the duvet from her bedroom and made herself comfortable on the couch. That way, she could guard the door all night, if need be.

  The phone rang around ten thirty. Not for the first time, she wished she’d invested in an answerphone. The ringing caused her nerve endings to twitch until, unanswered, the phone ceased. She took a steadying breath to calm her nerves, only for the darn thing to start ringing again. Sensing that she’d get little peace if she didn’t answer it soon, she picked it up and whispered, “Hello?”

  “Don’t hang up, please.” It was Josh. Just hearing his voice set the butterflies off in her stomach. “Are you still there, Nicci?”

  “Yes, I’m here. What do you want?” she said in a clipped tone.

  “Nicci, I’m at a loss to know what I did or have done wrong. Please, let me come back and discuss this. We could thrash things out if you want. It’s obvious that you’re angry with me, but it’s also clear, the way you returned my kiss, that you still have deep feelings for me.”

  “Aggghhh…you men. All you ever do is think a certain situation revolves around you, don’t you? What is it with you guys that you think a woman’s every waking thought should be about you?” She resisted the temptation to hang up—she was keen to hear his response to the accusation.

  “Wow, is that what you seriously think about me? That I could even be that shallow? Okay, as long as I know where I stand. I’ll leave you in peace then. Sorry for showing any form of concern.”

  She winced. He was wounded by her fierce attack, an unwarranted attack.

  What the hell is wrong with me? “I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out before she had a chance to consider or restrain them.

  “For what?” he challenged her.

  “For flying off the handle like that. You didn’t deserve it. Well…maybe you did a little,” she added, hoping the final words would ease the tension between them.

  “Apology accepted. I can’t say it’s understood, but I appreciate the thought behind it. Now…can we start over?”

  “Start over?”

  “As friends. I want to help out a friend in need.”

  “I don’t need any extra friends right now. I’m up to my eyes in friendship. I struggle to fit in visits as it is.” It was a blatant lie on her part. Since having her daughter, the only friends she had successfully managed to be in touch with were other single parent mothers. And most of their meetings consisted of condemning the men who’d run out on them, leaving them penniless with no form of child maintenance to speak of and being forced to live on benefits until their kids were old enough to go to school full-time.

  “Nicci…did you hear me?”

  “I’m sorry…I thought I heard something outside.” Another lie passed her lips. What the heck, she never told lies!

  “Do you want me to come back and check it out?”

  “No. I’m fine. The locks are on the door; no one could get in. I’m going to call it a night now. Thank you for ringing back. I appreciate it.”

  “Okay, can I drop by and see how you are tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” her mouth said before her brain had a chance to engage.

  She thought she heard him let out a relieved breath. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning. Will you be at work?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’m still a little shook up. I think so. Goodnight.”

  “I’ll ring you at home to check first. Goodnight, sleep tight.”

  She replaced the phone in its docking station, smiled, and finished off the saying she usually said after tucking her daughter in at night. “Mind the bed bugs don’t bite.”

  Then she made a cup of cocoa and settled back on the couch. A gust of wind struck up and moved what sounded like a can in the road outside, setting her nerves on edge again.

  She turned on the TV with the sound down low to help disguise the outdoor noises and snuggled under the duvet. Something hit the lounge window, and again. It took her mind a while to figure out it was probably a branch from a nearby tree bending in the gust causing the disturbance.

  She spent the rest of the night either lying down or hunched up with her arms wrapped around her knees during the storm which had developed—as if she wasn’t scared enough already. Thunder and lightning bombarded the house during the course of the night, making sleep an out-of-reach possibility.

  She watched the clock on the bookshelf click over every minute of every long hour, until the sun rose, chasing the storm away and filling her lounge with a golden ray of sunshine and hope for the day ahead.

  The phone rang as she turned the kettle on for her morning coffee. “Hello?” she answered, wondering why or who would be ringing her at such an ungodly hour.

  “Friday! I meant what I said, lady. If you love that kid of yours, you’ll hand over the money. I’ve been watching the house. I hope you ain’t told that bloke about our little arrangement?”

  “No. I swear. I haven’t told anyone. Well…that’s not quite true. He found me at the salon, so he knows that you held up the salon.”

  “Oh, he does, does he?”

  “Please, listen to me. You left me tied up. It was obvious I didn’t or couldn’t have done that to myself. I swear I didn’t tell him any details or telephone the police. I’ll get your money for Friday, I promise.”

  “I’m watching your every move, lady. Tell him to piss off. You women like doing that to men. If I see him around your house again…”

  He hung up, leaving his threat lingering in the air. Her breathing came in short, sharp bursts and her heart rate nearly hit the danger level. Nicole flopped into the chair and placed her head in her hands. “Why? Why me?”

  The ringing telephone interrupted her chant of self-pity. She hesitated long and hard before enough courage emerged for her to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Nicci. How are you?”

  “Josh, is that you?” She knew it was him, but at the same time, his voice sounded strained, different somehow.

  “Of course it’s me. What’s wrong? You sound scared? Has something else happened? I’m coming over.”

  “No! Don’t come over. You woke me up…I’m fine. I’m going into work today, I have to go and get ready now. Thanks for ringing.” She placed the phone
on the table and buried her head in her hands again. What a mess! How on earth did I manage to get myself in such a dangerous situation that I can do nothing about? Maybe I should pack up and leave? Sell the business and the house and just take off. Do all that in a week? Before I’m due to hand the money over to this guy? How the heck can I possibly do all that in a week?

  Fear pulled her inside out. What could she do to ease the torment of this criminal’s face invading her every thought? How could she live under the threat of him knowing where she lived? If she handed over the money on Friday what guarantee did she have that he wouldn’t keep hounding her, threatening both hers and Sammy Jo’s lives again, regularly demanding yet more cash from her? He might see her as a permanently open bank for all she knew. She had to get out of the situation, tell the police somehow without this man knowing about it. But he was watching her every move—he’d taken great pleasure in proving that already.

  Nicole tugged at her hair out of frustration. What can I do? She mentally kicked herself and stood under a hot shower for ten minutes. It helped to ease the tension surging through her body. After dressing and drying her hair she set off for the salon.

  When she arrived at the salon, she hesitated on the doorstep for a few minutes, searching for the bravery she needed to enter the place where her whole life had been turned upside down the day before. Nicole felt foolish when the first customer of the day turned up and found her mesmerised, staring at the key she’d placed in the front door.

  “Nice day, Nicole.”

  She sharply turned to face Mrs. Edwards, who’d been her very first customer when she’d opened the salon. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a bad night because of the storm. ‘Morning, it won’t take me long to set up.”

  She busied herself inside while Mrs. Edwards nattered away. Nicole was grateful, for a change, to find the woman’s gossiping and the drone of her voice distracting her. She had thought the images of the hold-up would bombard her mind, but like a true professional, she was determined to put her customer’s needs first.

  Actually, by the time lunchtime came around, she had successfully snipped and styled three of her regulars. She locked the door and plopped into the chair with her coffee, relieved to be off her feet for the first time since she’d opened up at nine. Her break had just started when she heard the door handle moving. The fear shot through her like a strong electrical current.

  My god, what if it’s him?

  One look in the mirror answered her fears. Chrissy was standing at the door, a huge grin on her face. Nicole opened the door and invited her sister in.

  Chrissy hugged her fiercely. “I’m worried about you. Mum told me what went on here yesterday. Don’t shut me out, Sis.”

  Tears burned the back of Nicole’s eyes. “I’m not shutting you out, hon. I just don’t want to dwell on it. Let me deal with things in my own way, please?”

  “But Mum said you haven’t informed the police. Why?”

  “It’s complicated, Chrissy.”

  Her sister flung herself into a styling chair and folded her arms. “I’m all ears. You might not want to tell Mum, but you can damn well tell me, young lady.”

  Sighing heavily, Nicole sat alongside her sister and leaned over to touch her hand. “Chrissy, I’m a big girl now. I can look after myself. I don’t interfere when you have something big to figure out, do I? I stand back and respect the decisions you make. Heck, half the time I don’t agree with them, but I keep my mouth shut and let you get on with the choices you make in life. Please, I’m begging you, let me sort this out my way, okay?”

  “But…”

  Nicole held up her hand to push back her sister’s anticipated retort. “No buts. I’ve asked Mum to look after Sammy Jo for the week so that I can get my head sorted out. I’m asking you to give me space and to stop badgering me. I know you’re all concerned, but I’m fine.”

  Her sister’s mouth tugged down at the sides, and she lowered her gaze to the ground before sitting upright to challenge her again. “All right, you say that, tell me this then…when I rang last night, why was Josh there? What aren’t you telling me, Sis? We never keep secrets from each other, especially about men.”

  “What men? I’ve not had anyone since…”

  Chrissy pointed at her and winked. “Josh! Sis, you’re so blind. It’s obvious you’re still in love with him. The torch inside you has never been extinguished and has always had his name attached.”

  “Whoa, hold your horses, missy. How in God’s name did this conversation come back to him?”

  “Well, he was at your place last night and you’re intent on blocking your own family out at the moment. What image does that little setting conjure up?”

  “God, you’re insufferable at times. It proves nothing. I want nothing to do with him. I’ve already told you that.”

  “You can scream and shout at me all you like, Nicole. Christ, every time his name is mentioned, you can’t even look me in the eye. What am I supposed to gather from that? You can deny it until you’re blue in the face, but I can tell that you are still in love with him. God, you need your head read if you persist in pushing him away. Have you even asked him why he up and left the way he did all those years ago?”

  “I’m not in love with him. Keep your nose out, Sis. He ran out on me, remember? I can’t forgive him for that—why should I forgive him? My life is great, fulfilled to the greatest extent with Sammy Jo. Why on earth would I encourage him and risk damaging the wonderful relationship I have with my daughter?”

  “Get with the times, love, for goodness sake. And you should have included him in that question, by the way.”

  She frowned and asked, “What question? I’m not with you.”

  “You said, ‘Why on earth would I encourage him and risk damaging the wonderful relationship I have with my daughter!’ You should have said our daughter, Nicole.”

  Nicole leapt out of the chair and opened the front door. “I have a customer coming in soon and need to get ready for her.”

  Through narrowed eyes, her sister challenged, “My God, he doesn’t know, does he?”

  “No. And he’s never going to know either, Chrissy. Not if I have my way.”

  SIX

  The rest of the afternoon was nonstop for Nicole just like the morning had been. She was grateful that she didn’t have the time to reflect on her conversation with Chrissy. At five o’clock, she closed the shop door and turned around to find Josh leaning casually against his car, arms folded across his broad chest, waiting for her. The sight of him looking cool and handsome in the fading sun’s rays made her heart skip several beats.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in the best casual voice she could muster.

  “I thought I’d take you for a drink after a hard day of standing on your feet.” He stepped away from his sinful-red sports car and opened the passenger door for her. “Your chariot awaits, madam.”

  She’d always had a burning ambition to sit in an MX5, to feel the wind blowing through her hair while travelling fast down the motorway—all right, the last part was a bit of an exaggeration…maybe an open country road would be better. She shrugged and sidled past him to get in the vehicle.

  He jumped behind the steering wheel and leaned over to peck her on the cheek. Her hand touched her face to feel if the heat of his lips had singed her flesh because it certainly felt as though it had. “Where are we going?”

  He tapped his nose and winked at her. “You’ll see. Do you have to be back early?”

  “No…I…” she was just about to say that her daughter was away for the week but checked herself. There was no need for him to know that, to know anything about Sammy Jo, not now, not ever.

  “Good.”

  The car slid into the traffic with ease. She spent the rest of the journey in silence, enjoying the view and tilting her head against the headrest, letting the warm breeze wash over her, an ideal end to a stressful day at work. Once or twice, she looked over at Josh. He appeared to be as co
ntent as she. Studying the curves in his face, she shuddered remembering the feel of his skin beneath her flesh. He caught her glancing in his direction once and winked at her as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the Luther Vandross CD. She had always loved the singer’s memorable song “A House Is Not a Home” and found it difficult to hold back the tears threatening to escape.

  Turning to look at the countryside she discreetly wiped away the droplets and swallowed down several breaths to help regain her composure. Her smile returned once the song had ended. Their journey concluded at a quaint little thatched inn situated down by the river. She said, “This is wonderful. I’ve never been here before.”

  “Come on, let’s find a table before the hordes arrive. Would you like to sit inside or out?”

  “Oh, it has to be outside on a beautiful day like today.”

  “Take a seat. What would you like to drink?”

  “A glass of dry white wine, thanks.”

  Nicole sat at a picnic table, in full view of a kiddies’ adventure play area. Three children laughed as they played in the zoned-off area while a group of four adults, two males and two females, chatted and kept an eye on their children.

  Nicole watched the little girl run around after the two older boys. Sometimes her arms would be outstretched in front of her, desperately close to catching up with one of them, only to fail at the last minute. She didn’t get the impression the boys were teasing the cute girl. They were just so wrapped up in their own fun, and the girl was too small and too slow to join in with them.

  She was so engrossed in watching the children’s games that she neglected to hear Josh return with their drinks.

  “She’s a cutie, reminds me of Shirley Temple.”

  Nicole cleared her throat. “Yes, I suppose she does. Thank you, I’m in dire need of this after the day I’ve had.” She sipped her glass of wine and glanced around the area, purposely avoiding eye contact with him.

  Josh sat opposite her, their glasses sitting in the middle of the table. Both of them had their hands wrapped around their drinks.