Mama Said

by Byrne, Wendy

  * * *

  She finished the night without much drama and was anxious to get home. It had been a long day and she was exhausted, although she wasn’t too sure if she’d be able to sleep well considering what had happened this afternoon.

  As she walked toward the door, he gave her the death stare from under hooded lids. “My stepbrother coming back to pick you up?” he practically snarled at on her way past.

  She rolled her eyes. “Will you knock it off with the sibling rivalry thing? Aren’t you a little old for that?”

  He harrumphed and folded his arms across his chest. “Hey, I’m not the one who invited him here.”

  “For the last time—” She stopped and tapped her toe on the floor. “Never mind. Fighting with you isn’t going to get us anywhere.” At that moment she heard a beep coming from outside. “That must be my cab.”

  He seemed genuinely shocked, as if taking the initiative weren’t within her make-up. “Why’d you call a cab?”

  “Because I didn’t want to be indebted to you in any way, shape, or form.” With that she sashayed out of the bar with her dignity firmly intact.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Feeling victorious, Gabriella pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt and settled into bed about an hour later. The muted sound of light rain pinging against the windows broke the night’s silence.

  After everything that had happened today, she was exhausted and drifted off. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep when something startled her awake. At first she thought it was a dream that had her senses buzzing. As she took in slow, easy breaths to steady her pulse, she heard sounds from below.

  She grabbed her phone from the nightstand to check the time. Quarter till four. She must have been sleeping for only a half hour or so. Even as she tried to convince herself it was only her imagination, she strained to hear more.

  Subtle sounds came to her, like the noises she heard when Carissa was working below. But not at four o’clock in the morning. Paranoia returned with a vengeance.

  More than likely it was Shane, either trying to scare her or getting a head start on the day. Or maybe he was unable to sleep because he felt guilty for being such a cranky pants earlier. Okay, maybe that was her personal fantasy.

  A shiver passed along her spine as she realized there was something much more valuable than cash downstairs. Potentially sensitive information was kept within file cabinets or on the computer.

  Convinced now she had to do something, she punched Shane’s number into her cell phone and hoped he didn’t laugh at her. Then again, as anal as he was, the security system downstairs had to be top-notch so she shouldn’t worry. She was just about to hang up when he answered.

  “O’Neil.” He sounded groggy, as if she’d awakened him.

  “Please tell me you’re downstairs making a lot of noise to scare me.”

  She heard him stir as if he were getting out of bed. “What’s going on?”

  “I think somebody’s in the office. I was hoping it was you. Do you think it’s Carissa?”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “I’ll call the police.” If Shane wasn’t blowing her off with excuses citing her imagination, she was officially scared.

  “No, I can get there faster.” He hung up.

  She should definitely call the police. But then she remembered the threats at the courthouse and the pseudo-interrogation the other night and it didn’t seem like such a hot idea after all.

  But what if whoever was downstairs decided to come upstairs? Would Shane get there before they decided to hack her into little pieces?

  She needed to calm down. Pacing was out of question, as that would only let the people below know there was someone upstairs. Instead, she eased into the bed and considered her best option for an easy-to-grab weapon. There were a couple of knives in the drawers in the kitchen, but she’d have to get too close to use one of those.

  As her imagination began to spin out of control, she forced herself to think logically. If they were in the office, they were searching for something in particular. They would have no reason to come upstairs.

  That slice of relief lasted only seconds. If they didn’t find what they were looking for, they might think more information was housed upstairs.

  On cue she heard the unmistakable sound of somebody coming up the stairs. Since she didn’t hear any swearing, she assumed it wasn’t Shane.

  Now what? Even if she called the police this second, they would never get there in time.

  The only thing within reach that was passable as a weapon was the bedside lamp. After stuffing a pillow under the covers to make it look at first glance as if someone were in the bed, she slipped behind the door, the brass lamp raised above her head. She had no choice but to fend for herself and then flee. Then she’d call the police, regardless of Shane’s paranoia.

  The knob on the door twisted and the door slowly opened. Her heart was beating so furiously it felt as if a giant fire hose pumped the blood inside her chest. She drew in one strength-gathering breath before bringing the weight of the lamp onto the back of his head.

  Unlike in the movies, he didn’t crumple to the ground, but her clumsy move did stun him to the extent she was able to flee through the open door. She ran down the stairs as if the devil himself were chasing her, and tore open the door to the outside.

  She ran smack into Shane. Her body a mass of quaking nerves, she hardly felt him grab her biceps.

  “Gabriella, stop singing and get into the car.”

  Still rattled, she slipped inside his car and hit the power locks. Though she stopped singing, she started humming in the hopes of alleviating some of the feelings of terror coursing through her. When she spotted the keys dangling from the ignition, it took every bit of willpower to not put the car in gear and take off for parts unknown. Instead, she fired up his iPod and tried to soothe the staccato beat of her heart.

  Even with the windows up and the music on, she heard shouting, mostly curses, coming from inside the building. It was then that she remembered she hadn’t told Shane about the guy upstairs. She tried to think of a way to warn him without getting herself killed in the process. As she was working on the problem, the guy in question barreled out the door. She knew it was the same guy because of the patch of blood on his t-shirt. To her relief he didn’t pay attention to her, choosing instead to keep on running down the block.

  Seconds later, Shane and another guy tumbled out the door. While she’d bet on Shane in a foot race, this guy had a head start. Undeterred, Shane ran around the corner after him, and out of her sight. If she weren’t such a chicken, she would get her butt out of the car to try to help. But that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

  Gabriella chewed on her fingernails, listened to music, and watched the same corner through the ever-increasing rain. She hadn’t heard any gunshots earlier, nor had she seen a gun. But what if other guys were waiting around somewhere with guns?

  If she hadn’t listened to Shane earlier and had called the police, they would be here by now. She cursed him in English, Spanish, and, for good measure, Italian. Just as she was about to let out another litany of curses, Shane came around the corner. Alone, but in one piece.

  * * *

  Shane couldn’t begin to sort out what those guys were after. Could be connected to Marcos, could be any number of clients.

  Gabriella got out of the car and joined him as he walked toward the office. Her teeth chattered from the cold and rain and, more likely, a heavy dose of fear.

  Once inside, he let out a string of expletives. It was much worse than he’d expected. They were well on their way to destroying the place when he got there. Then again, he’d traded some pretty hard punches and was responsible for some of the broken furniture.

  “What did they do, shred every piece of paper you have?” She tiptoed around the mess.

  Shane rubbed his throbbing jaw. Guilt overtook him every time he looked at her. “Somehow I lost the son of a bitch. He
had to have a car waiting for him somewhere.”

  “Did you know there were two of them? Another guy came upstairs. I hit him over the head with a lamp.”

  Shane stopped as a fresh wash of guilt peppered his spine. “Did you see him leave?”

  “He ran out right before the other guy.”

  “What did he look like?” The guy he’d traded punches with wasn’t familiar. More than likely he was some hired muscle.

  “Young. Skinny. Kind of scruffy. Do you think that cop that threatened you hired somebody to do this?”

  What she said kind of made sense as some kind of twisted vendetta. But in reality it could have been any one of a number of people.

  “I get threats all the time. Normally it’s bull. Besides, O’Brien’s a loser. He wouldn’t have the nerve.” He tried to think about who else might want to get even with him, but the list was way too long. “I wish I knew what they were after. Maybe somebody wanted to screw with me.” He shrugged. “They must have stumbled on the extra key card in Carissa’s desk in order to get upstairs into your apartment.”

  “How’d they get in to begin with?”

  He pointed toward the broken window in front. “Takes some balls to do something like that. Either that or they were high.”

  “At least they didn’t have guns.” She brushed her fingertips along his face. “You have a scrape on your cheek.”

  For the first time since he’d gotten there, Shane felt like smiling. “You should see the other guy.”

  She tsked. “What are you going to do now?”

  No doubt she wanted him to call the police but wouldn’t come right out and say it. He ignored her implication. “I’m going to get something to board up the window and call it a night.”

  She followed so close behind him when he went into the back storage room she’d practically attached herself to him. “What do you think they wanted?”

  “I don’t know, but they wouldn’t have gotten much. Every night Carissa sends any new data to a remote back-up system, and I put the important stuff on my memory stick.”

  “Any hot cases you’re working on that somebody might want to see disappear?”

  “That’s the thing about detective work. There are always somebody’s secrets you’re dredging up. I guess it depends on how much they have to lose if I uncover the truth.”

  While looking at her was a great distraction, he fought against it. Between her skimpy attire, long, sexy legs, and tousled hair, focusing on her for more than ten seconds was a bad idea.

  “When you put it that way, everybody’s a suspect.” She shrugged and looked around, oblivious to the nasty thoughts tumbling through his brain. “Do you want me to help you clean this up?”

  Thankful for the diversion, he surveyed the room. If they did that, they’d be there until daylight. Besides, there was only so much of her dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and thin t-shirt with no bra that he could take. “Naw, we both need to get some sleep. I’ll come back and help Carissa in the morning.” He grabbed her arm. “Get what you need for the night. You’re staying with me.”

  * * *

  There was no way she was going to argue with him. While she’d like to think she was brave enough to pretend life was normal and stay alone in the apartment upstairs, she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be in that place all by herself, even if it would be morning in another hour or two.

  She got into his car with the barest of necessities—toothbrush, hair brush, flip-flops, underwear, shorts, t-shirt, and her Florida Gators rain slicker.

  “I’ve had a rough couple of days.”

  He glanced at her. “Besides tonight?”

  “Yesterday I thought somebody followed me home from the club—”

  “What? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because the cabbie lost them. At least I’m pretty sure he did. And you were already being…ahem…difficult.” She huffed out a breath. “And then today I found Vanessa dead—okay, not quite dead, but for all the blood she—”

  “Who the hell is Vanessa? And why am I just hearing about this now? Start from the beginning.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “When I got into the cab the other night I kept seeing headlights shining into the backseat. Then the cabbie noticed it, too. At first I thought it was you, trying to catch up with me to apologize for being an idiot about Patrick, but that would be a big giant…ah, hell no. Anyway, the cabbie lost whoever it was. And Vanessa, who I found bleeding in her apartment, was Annie’s sponsor.”

  She sucked in a breath and continued. “Donna had to leave because her son got hurt so I tracked down Vanessa at her apartment. When I got there, she’d been stabbed and her baby was screaming in the other room. Then I fainted. It was a total cluster you-know-what.”

  She couldn’t tell in the dark car, but she was pretty sure he rolled his eyes. “You called the police?”

  “Of course. I’m not police-phobic like you. If you must know, that’s why Patrick came in tonight—to make sure I was all right, which was pretty darn sweet of him.”

  “Sweet? Yeah, right. And you didn’t tell me—”

  “Because, as usual, you were being Mr. Cranky Pants. But now that you’re being halfway civil, did you ever see Annie with a boyfriend?”

  “No, why?”

  “Her counselor said something about her hooking up with some stable older guy and that she thought Annie was clean. She was just as surprised as Donna that she went back to her old ways and overdosed.”

  “Addicts are good at fooling people. Relapse is part of the cycle.”

  “I get that but…the whole thing seems weird. Nobody is buying that she went back to drugs. Even if she did, how do you explain her sponsor getting stabbed? Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  He shook his head but didn’t say another word. Which worked out fine since it didn’t take more than ten minutes to get to his place. He pulled into a garage in back of a brick three-story building. From the look of things, the building was probably at least seventy years old, but even from a superficial in-the-dark once-over, it appeared immaculately kept. Then again, she would have expected as much from him.

  “Is that Lake Michigan over there?” He seemed distracted and she was itching to fill the silence. She never did well with long stretches of quiet.

  He nodded and put a key into the back door lock. “I live in Lincoln Park, a yuppie haven. It’s a mix of old and new buildings, with the lake and the park only a couple of blocks away. You haven’t been able to do much sightseeing since you’ve been here, have you?”

  “Not really.” Not that he’d offered. And not that she’d had a chance with all the drama going on.

  They walked up a flight of stairs to his door. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but what she saw was a blend of old and new. The arched doorways, high ceilings with intricate woodwork detail, and stained glass windows were probably as old as the building itself. The kitchen was state-of-the-art modern with sleek black granite counters, stainless steel appliances, and natural cherry cabinets.

  “Your place is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” After keying in a security alarm, he placed his keys on a hook, his wallet on a table, and walked toward the refrigerator. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “I’d love a beer or wine, something to make me think I’ll get some sleep tonight.” The change from humid weather to his air-conditioned space made her break out in goose bumps. Without her bra, her nipples were like headlights under her t-shirt. She tried to cover them by folding her arms across her chest.

  “I don’t drink, but I do keep some beer in the fridge for company.” He pulled out a bottle, opening it with a twist, and set it on the counter. “You’re freezing. Let me get you a shirt.”

  While he walked into another room, she sat on one of the stainless steel and leather stools at the granite breakfast bar. Taking a giant gulp of beer, she let the liquid travel through her body, hoping maybe it might help her forget all that had
happened in the last couple of days.

  A few minutes later, Shane handed her a blue and black plaid flannel shirt. “Sorry, it’s not Ralph Lauren, but it will keep you warm.” Even though he smiled, she could tell he was feeling awkward or preoccupied or a combination of both.

  “Thanks.” The softness of the fabric slid over her skin. That ocean breeze scent of Shane lingered in the shirt. “You don’t drink?”

  He shook his head and sat on the stool next to her. “Never cared much for it.” His short answer made her believe there was much more to that story.

  “I don’t drink much, either.” Despite her words, she finished the beer in one long slug. “Which explains why I’m already starting to feel a buzz.”

  He grinned, but then quickly adopted his normally stern expression. “I’d understand if you wanted to leave town. I wouldn’t blame you. With everything that went on tonight, and considering Annie…and Vanessa…I won’t be a prick about it if you want out of your contract.”

  She touched his arm and wondered about the sudden rush of heat. Not five minutes ago she was freezing. “You just don’t want to share your place with me, do you?” Shane being nice and accommodating confused her.

  “You can’t stay back at the apartment until I know what’s going on.” As he spoke, his mind seemed a million miles away.

  “And you’re too cheap to put me up in a hotel,” she said to make things a little less serious. “But watch out, I kind of like it here. Close to the lake. Nice big apartment. Beautiful kitchen, even if I don’t cook.” An alarm system. Heck, she felt more comfortable than she had all day. “One more beer and I think I could fall asleep.”

  “Coming right up.” He got a beer, along with a bottled water for himself. “Here you go. But take it easy. I don’t want to have to carry you to bed.”

  In full-flirt mode, she touched the bicep peeking below the sleeve of his t-shirt. “I know I’m tall, but I don’t weigh very much. I think you could manage.”