Cat 'N Mouse

by Yvonne Harriott

  He sat across the street from the three-story apartment building. The white bricked building was at the end of a dead end street in South Orlando. He had a clear view and a quick get away if need be.

  Warren Prescott had entered the ground floor leaving Colt behind. Forty-five minutes later he watched Prescott emerge. Colt stood by the car door like a soldier on guard opening the door for his master. Warren slid into the back seat. Colt closed the door and got in on the driver’s side. He watched in the rearview mirror as they pulled away.

  There was no need to follow Prescott. He knew the man was going home to his Princess—soon to be his Princess too.

  Rubbing the scarf against the stubble on his face, he pictured Alexandria sitting beside him. Anger bubbled up inside him when he remembered the man in the black suit that came out of the restaurant and hugged her a few days ago. He slammed his fist into his leg and pain shot all the way down to his toes. That man wasn’t good enough for her. None of them were.

  Pushing the man in black to the back of his mind, he thought about Samuel O’Malley, the man he’d followed from the Prescott estate. What was his role? Prescott’s visit concerned him. It was his fault. If he hadn’t tampered with Alexandria’s car then she would’ve gone back to her condo instead of hiding from him.

  O’Malley had to be a cop or a private investigator. He had the height and the build for it. He was also smart. Twice today O’Malley had almost caught him following him.

  It was his anger that made him careless, an anger he needed to control if he wanted to be with his Princess. He had lost his first job because of his anger. He was good at his job before he was dishonorably discharged. They had taught him to kill and he became good at it. Then they accused him of liking it too much. So what if he killed people that didn’t deserve to die. That’s what war was about. They concluded he was unstable. Instead of serving his country, he held the door for people, and some of them don’t even look at him. They treated him like dirt.

  He knew he should’ve forgiven Alexandria for cheating on him with the man in black. He had always forgiven her, but this time she needed to be taught a lesson. He looked toward the apartment window. O’Malley had pulled back the drapery and was peering out into the darkness. A few minutes later the front door flew open and O’Malley sprinted across the street toward his car.

  Turning on the car, putting the gear in drive, he jammed on the accelerator and drove away, tires screeching into the night. He was half way home before he turned on his headlights.

  Samuel O’Malley was going to be a big problem.

  • • •

  Alexandria knocked on Mimi’s door. Her room was at the other end of the house. At six thousand and fifty square feet, the house was like a football stadium. Growing up in the house, she’d often felt lost in it. Still did.

  As a child when she couldn’t sleep at night, she would always visit Mimi. She would sit in her room for hours and Mimi would tell her stories about her life in France before she moved to America. Her favorite were the stories of Josephine Baker, the entertainer.

  When things were at their most confusing Mimi would make it all better, and that’s why she was outside Mimi’s door. She was too old to be hanging on to childhood memories and was feeling a bit silly. She was a grown woman yet sometimes stepping back into the house made her—

  “Come in, Sweet Pea.”

  “Old habits die hard,” Alexandria said when she opened the door and made a bee line for Mimi’s bed. The marble tile felt cool under her bare feet until she hit the soft white rug in front of the bed.

  Alexandria loved Mimi’s room. Even though her father had remodeled the entire house, Mimi’s room had remained the same over the years. Rich heavy drapery in green silk hung from the windows. It also covered a window bench that overlooked the garden. The room was decorated with fine antique furnishings, most of which Mimi had brought with her from France.

  “Come,” Mimi removed her glasses, closing the book of poetry and setting it on the night table. She patted the large four-poster bed lifting the green silk cover. “I was expecting you. This brings back memories.”

  “Not always good ones.” Alexandria lifted the hem of her nightgown and crawled into the bed. She told Mimi about the argument with her father. “I know he means well, but sometimes he’s suffocating.”

  “He loves you, Sweet Pea. Whatever he does it’s because he loves you. Tell me what’s on your mind. The last couple of times when you visited you never came to my room.”

  “I’m a little old to be crawling into bed with my former nanny, don’t you think?”

  “Says who?”

  With a big wide smile and a sparkle in her green eyes Mimi lifted Alexandria’s spirits and she began to feel better. Mimi understood her and that’s why Alexandria could tell her anything. There was no ordering her about or telling her what was best for her or belittling the things that were important to her.

  “The nightmares are back.”

  Mimi didn’t say anything at first. She smoothed the hair from Alexandria’s face and folded her in her arms. She smelled of baby powder. It felt like she’d come home to a real home in Mimi’s arms. Even her condo didn’t feel like home to her. Her father had bought it like everything else. It all belonged to him.

  “Are they the same nightmares you used to have after your mother died?” Mimi’s arms tightened around her. “Those were something awful. Your daddy thought for sure you were going mad.”

  “No,” Alexandria shook her heard. “Those were of mom lying at the bottom of the stairs in a pool of blood. They were on and off over the years, but they stopped when I moved out.”

  She remembered the first night she moved into her condo six months ago and how nervous she’d felt. But she had slept through that night up until a month ago when she felt like someone was watching her. Then she was thrown back into the nightmares all over again.

  “You okay, Sweet Pea?” Mimi asked when Alexandria lapsed into silence.

  “These nightmares…they’re different.”

  “How so?” Mimi looked down at her, eyes clouded with concern.

  “They’re flashbacks. More violent. I see someone standing in the shadows behind mom.” Mimi’s gentle soothing stroke stopped. “He pushes her over the banister and then he starts walking toward me but I wake up before I see his face.”

  After her mother had died, her father had remodeled the house, tearing down the old wooden banister and replacing it with marble and brass. Everything that had belonged to her mother was thrown away. It was as if her mother never existed. The only person she had was Mimi.

  “You know your mother’s death was an accident. Push that rubbish from your mind. Besides, I thought you were coming to talk to me about…what do you young people say…the ‘hunk’ that got your blood boiling this morning. You couldn’t even finish your breakfast.”

  “Good gracious!” She lifted her head up to look at Mimi. “You can’t be talking about Samuel O’Malley.”

  “I never mentioned his name, Sweet Pea.” Her eyes lit up with a smile.

  “Subtlety is not your strong suit, is it? The man is a thief.” She remembered the dark eyes that condemned her. “Not even if he was the last man on earth would I—”

  “A thief?”

  “He stole my phone.”

  “Yes, but he’s a handsome thief.”

  “You’re in it with daddy, aren’t you? One way or the other that man is going to be in my life and make me miserable. He looks at me as if I’m beneath him or something,” she said, remembering the way he sneered at her after the accident, and then snatching her phone away.

  “But he has your blood boiling. When my Gerald was alive he used to make my toes curl in bed.” Mimi’s husky laugher filled the room. “I know you’ve never met him. He died just before I came to work for your father.”

  “I remember you used to talk about him. That was the only time you were sad. I always thought that it was so nice that you two had a
happy marriage.”

  “Happiness doesn’t begin to cover it. Ever had your toes curl, Sweet Pea? What a ride. Mmmm.”

  Alexandria had never had anything curled by any man. All they wanted was her father’s money.

  “I don’t want to talk about Samuel O’Malley or toes curling.”

  “Pity. Samuel O’Malley is the only man I’ve ever seen stand up to your father,” Mimi chuckled, “and walked away from your father at that too. I thought he would have a stroke when he stormed into the house. Imagine having Mr. O’Malley on your side, Sweet Pea, or even in your bed.”

  “Mimi!”

  She yawned. Mimi touched her face and smiled. “Sometimes I forget that you aren’t the twelve year old that used to jump into bed with me.” Mimi’s eyes were sad. “You look so much like your mother.”

  “She didn’t love me, not the way you do.”

  Alexandria couldn’t remember her mother ever hugging her. She was always crying, always sad.

  “Oh, Sweet Pea, she loved you. She just didn’t know how to express it because no one showed her how.”

  “You did. You loved me and showed it every day.”

  Mimi shrugged, “I’m French.”

  Alexandria shifted so her head was on the pillow. She heard Mimi’s soothing voice and felt like twelve years old again. Whenever her parents started to fight she would always escape to Mimi’s sanctuary. In Mimi’s room she couldn’t hear them. She felt safe. Tonight she felt safe. Whoever was following her couldn’t hurt her.

  “Do you want me to tell you the story of how I met Josephine Baker?”

  Alexandria smiled. She’d heard the story a million times as a child and yet every time she heard it, it was almost as if she was hearing it for the first time.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Josephine was given a few nicknames—the “Bronze Venus”, the “Black Pearl”, and the “Créole Goddess”—and she deserved every one of them. I was in a quaint little club called…”

  Chapter Three

  Sam turned toward the bedroom door when he heard the front door open. Reaching for the gun on top of the duffle bag, he crept slowly toward the bedroom door.

  Waiting.

  After chasing that car outside the apartment last night, he had a whole lot of questions and no answers.

  First and foremost, why was he being followed? Did it have anything to do with her Royal Highness? Had to be, since he noticed the tail after he left the estate. Why would anyone want to hurt her?

  Footsteps on the hardwood floor clunked down the hall, definitely male, moving toward the bedroom. He cocked his gun just as the…

  “Jesus, Matt! I almost put a bullet in you. What are you doing here?”

  “Ahh… I live here,” Matt said, tossing the newspaper folded under his arm onto the bed. Since there was nothing in the room but the king-sized bed, it was a dumping ground for everything. He eyed the gun while running his hand through his sun-bleached hair. “I didn’t expect to get shot in my own house. Point that elsewhere, if you don’t mind.”

  “You said you were staying at the executive suite.”

  Sam put the gun in the duffle bag and zipped it up. Matt grabbed a clean white shirt and dark slacks from the closet. That meant one thing. He would guess that Matt had a date last night that had just ended and he needed to be in tiptop shape before he headed back to the corporate tower. After all, one can’t show up with a five o’clock shadow and red eyes at corporate headquarters.

  For Matt, it was all about the show, putting the best foot forward and making the money. Sometimes he wondered about his friend. How far would he go for the money?

  “I thought you already left for the estate.”

  “I’m on my way out,” Sam said grabbing his bag off the bed. “You can have the place to yourself at least for the next week anyway for your excursions if she’s not welcome at Prescott’s executive suite.”

  Sam’s comment was meant as a joke but it wasn’t received that way.

  “I had a date last night. The condo is closer. Changing here is more convenient,” Matt explained. “Look, I know you don’t like Prescott and that’s fine. Whether you like him or not you’re in his employment for the next seven days so if I were you, I’d reign in that temper of yours. For the record I love my job at the corporate tower.”

  The warning edge in Matt’s voice stopped Sam in mid stride at the bedroom door.

  “No need to preach to me. I was joking.”

  “No you weren’t. You used to know how to have a good time. Now all you do is complain. Despite what you think, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Whatever is eating at you, deal with it. And if this is about Melanie Daniels, you need let it go before it pulls you under.”

  Sam hadn’t told Matt the whole story regarding his quick exit from Boston to the Sunshine State, but apparently with all of Matt’s connections, he had already found out enough to put two and two together.

  He’d messed up his life and had no one to blame but himself. He was a good cop, even made detective at Boston Police Department. Then he got shot and Demerol became his best friend. Once that friendship developed it was hard to let go, but he’d made the break.

  There were consequences regarding his friendship with his drug of choice. He’d made some bad decisions. One of which was him messing up his relationship with his girlfriend. He figured since she had her eyes on the long white dress, the perfect colonial house with children thrown in the mix it was best that she’d left. He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment.

  His job was another story, and that had played out like a soap opera. When he’d gotten the opportunity to fix his mistake, he’d tried to make it right. But although the department had acknowledged that there were extenuating circumstances for his actions, it wasn’t enough. He had to take responsibility for his prior actions. What was left to do but leave town after that stirring speech.

  Matt was right. He should deal with his issues, do the job he was hired to do and quit complaining.

  “Are we cool on this?” Matt toed off his shoes pausing outside the door of the adjoining washroom waiting for his answer. Matt needed things to be okay before moving forward.

  “Yeah, we’re cool. By the way,” Sam said injecting some humor back into the conversation. “I met Elvira yesterday and haven’t seen her since.”

  “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

  “It’s a lizard.”

  “Shh.” Matt put his finger on his lips, grinning. “Don’t let her hear you.”

  Sam shook his head and laughed. “You know it’s a reptile, right. I swear, your eyes just glazed over. I’m starting to worry about you.”

  “No need to worry about me. There is someone else besides Elvira. It’s just not the right time yet for us.” Matt stepped in the washroom and just before he closed the door said, “Check out the story on the front page of the paper. Some nut job broke into an animal blood bank, which supplies blood to animal hospitals for surgery. Who knew? Anyway, a whole lot of blood products were stolen.”

  • • •

  “Good morning, Mr. O’Malley…or should I call you Samuel,” the woman asked when she opened the door, wiping her hands in the red apron tied around her waist. “We’re very informal around here.”

  “Only my mother called me Samuel. She’s dead.”

  The Prescott household had given her permission to call everyone by their first names, big deal. He was in no mood to chitchat with a nosey housekeeper and he didn’t want to be on a first name basis with her either. He made a note to get a background check done on her. With that man outside the apartment last night, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “My name is Mimi,” she said extending her hand toward him. “I’ve always found the Irish so well-mannered. Mr. O’Malley it is then. Perhaps you’re Irish in name only.”

  Sam has never considered it one way or the other. When he looked into the mirror it wasn’t an Irish man looking back at him. He blended into the two c
ultures, but his Caribbean heritage seemed to emerge as the strong victor even though he’d developed a taste for Irish beer.

  Mimi stepped back from the door as he entered and leveled him with a look of either intrigue or disapproval. He was leaning toward disapproval. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t about to be put off by him.

  He had every intention of taking Matt’s advice about managing his anger. That flew out the window as soon as the cab dropped him off at the front door. It was the haves versus the have-nots and that line was clearly drawn in the sand.

  “I’ll show you to the salon. Mr. Prescott and Alexandria will join you shortly.”

  Salon? He didn’t know what a salon was but followed Mimi anyway. It took a lot to impress him but the salon sure did. It was an oversized sitting room. Everywhere he looked was marble, glass, crystals, and artwork, which he was sure, were originals. No dogs playing poker hanging over the fireplace.

  “They’re just things, Mr. O’Malley,” Mimi said watching him closely. “At the end of the day, they mean nothing.”

  “I guess that’s what people say when they don’t have anything.”

  “I’ve all I need. Do you?”

  He didn’t get a chance to respond. The fireworks that erupted outside the salon door took care of that.

  “Daddy, you can’t be serious?”

  Sam knew that voice. He had been trying to get that voice and face out of his head since their encounter yesterday, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. He was here because of Prescott’s plea for help. The rich man wanted something from him and had come to him begging. Swallowing his pride that got stuck in his throat, he came to the conclusion that he needed the money. Why not do both? Earn money and protect the Princess.

  There was still something eating away at him. Of all the people Matt knew, why hire him? It’s not like he was high on Prescott’s list of favorite people. He didn’t buy that ‘I trust you bit’ from Matt either, at least not one hundred percent. Maybe he was being too cynical.