by Tawny Taylor
“Yes.”
Mandy punched the local police department into her GPS and followed the computer-generated voice to the police station. Inside, it was mayhem. People everywhere. Babies crying. Mandy had second thoughts. She had third thoughts, too. But she still figured it was safer to give the information at the station than to hang around a crime scene, risking the guilty parties’ return.
After waiting in line for forty-five minutes, she trudged up to the counter and told the officer, “I witnessed a shooting.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Where at?” he asked, sounding bored.
“At the Greenwich Motel.”
“Can I see your ID?”
Mandy dug her driver’s license out of her wallet and handed it to the officer. He wrote it down on a piece of paper, then clipped it to a board and handed it to her. “Write what you saw.” He glanced at Sarah.
“Me too,” she said.
He did the same with her.
Ten minutes later, they handed back their clipboards, their statements completed. The officer gave them a quick, “Thank you.”
“That’s it?” Mandy asked.
The officer nodded, calling, “Next.”
Mandy and Sarah exchanged looks.
Outside the station, Sarah said, “I’m hungry. I think I’m in the mood for chicken. Then maybe we could go scope out the Clark place again. What do you think?”
Mandy stared at the clock. It was early, too early to go home. Much too early. “What the hell. Why not?”
16
“My God, don’t these people ever pick up their little beast’s shit?” Sarah grumped, dragging her foot in the grass.
Once again, they were in the Clark’s backyard. Hoping, beyond reason, that Clark would be stupid enough to meet his neighbor in the pool house. Yes, Mandy would admit she was probably being a fool for thinking Clark would be so dumb. But she wasn’t ready to call it a night yet. Creeping around the Clark’s backyard beat lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering why she was alone.
As she picked her way through the bushes next to the fence, she put up a silent prayer for things to go her way tonight. Lately, it seemed Lady Luck had abandoned her. Either that, or she’d lost her edge.
With Sarah at her heels, she dashed across the lawn, heading to the back of the lot. She found a cozy spot in the deepest shadows and hunkered down. Best to try to get comfortable, if that was at all possible. They could be waiting there for hours. And yet, she couldn’t get too comfortable, in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
“Maybe I should hide in the pool house with the camera?” Sarah whispered. “You can watch out here and if you see them coming, signal me.”
“Hmmmm. I guess that makes sense. Just do me a favor—don’t take any unnecessary risks. Please. I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. Mandy could clearly see them, even in the semidarkness. “Why would we go to jail? Don’t we have the wife’s permission to be out here?”
“Yes, we do. But Clark doesn’t know that. And if she isn’t home and he calls the police, we could end up spending the night in jail, waiting for Mrs. Clark to back up our story.” Indeed, Mrs. Clark did give them permission to sneak onto her property, after Mandy had informed her about their last impromptu visit to the house. She’d taken some risk by giving Clark’s wife as much information as she had. If the woman wasn’t able to keep what she knew to herself and decided instead to confront her husband, the whole case could be blown apart. Clark might break it off with his neighbor, and she’d be back to square one. “And that’s if he calls the police. What if he decides instead to take matters into his own hands ... ?” Mandy let the sentence trail off, knowing Sarah would fill in the blanks. She had an active imagination.
“I see where you’re going with that. I’ll be careful.”
They exchanged a nod. Sarah ducked into the building. Mandy leaned against the wood exterior wall, facing the neighbor’s backyard.
Three hours later, Mandy’s thighs were on fire. She’d shifted positions at least a hundred times, but being half sitting, half squatting for so long had worked every muscle of her legs to fatigue. She needed to sit down.
Time to call it a night.
Her thighs trembling, and not for a pleasant reason, Mandy started curling around the front of the pool house, keeping to the shadows. As she approached the door, she caught sight of a shadowy figure creeping out of the building. Cool, Sarah must have been reading her mind.
She waved at Sarah and started toward the fence.
Sarah followed.
She climbed over.
Sarah followed.
She strolled out to the street, cutting right to return to the car. She heard Sarah’s footsteps following behind her. She ducked into the car and pushed the key into the ignition.
A knock on her window made her jump.
She turned her head.
Her car door swung open.
She registered a woman’s face, not Sarah’s. Before she could react, a fist made contact with her jaw. Stars exploded behind her eyelids. She felt the world swoop.
Next thing Mandy knew, she had one hell of a headache. Her jaw was killing her. And her wrists were handcuffed to the steering wheel. Her car keys were gone.
What happened? Where’s Sarah?
Her head throbbed as she twisted to check the backseat.
Sure enough, there she was. Hog-tied and gagged. Her eyes were open.
Panic setting in, Mandy glanced around before asking, “Sarah, are you okay?”
Sarah nodded and said something Mandy couldn’t understand.
“My hands are cuffed to the steering wheel.” Mandy tried curling her hand to make it as narrow as possible and wiggled it, trying to work it out of the cuff. No luck. She looked back at Sarah again. “Do you know why they tied us up in the car?”
Sarah nodded.
“Did they call the police?”
Sarah nodded a third time.
That was both good and bad. Mandy let her head slump forward until her forehead struck the steering wheel. She’d never been arrested before. She’d never been caught tailing anyone either.
She was losing her edge. She was taking more risks, stupid ones, getting sloppy. And it was something to be concerned about. This was one hell of a wake-up call.
Never again.
Mandy watched the clock, waiting to see how long it took the police to respond here in this nice little burb. She guessed it might be fifteen minutes. She was wrong. Ten minutes after she’d woken up from her little nap, two black-and-whites pulled up behind her car, and one swooped around in front of it. Four armed officers approached the car with guns drawn. One of them demanded, “Put your hands up!”
Hoping they’d hear, she shouted, “I’m handcuffed. I can’t.” A tense few minutes passed while the police decided whether it was some kind of trap or if she was telling the truth. Finally, one of them, with his gun pointed at her head, pulled open the driver’s door.
It was Sarah’s new friend, Officer Whatshisname. Mandy wondered how this would play out. Could be good. Could be bad.
“You. Again?” he said, his eyes snapping to her secured wrists.
“I’m a private investigator. I’ve been hired by the lady who lives in this house to follow her husband.” Mandy checked his name badge. Valdez.
Valdez turned to wave off his fellow officers, pointing at one. “O’Neil, why don’t you get statements from the guy who called?” He glanced in the backseat. “Is that Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyone hurt?” he asked, yanking open the back door.
“Sarah indicated she’s okay. Clark’s neighbor, with whom he’s having an affair, decided to go vigilante on my face.”
“Neighbor?” Valdez looked at Clark’s house. “Which one?”
“The one on the west side.”
Sarah tried to say something. Of
course, nobody could understand her.
Valdez untied the gag.
“I am so sorry about the other night,” Sarah blurted, her words sounding a little strange, like she had a wool sock in her mouth. “Ugh. Tongue feels a little swollen. Probably from the stupid gag.”
“Are you hurt?” Valdez asked, pulling at the rope binding Sarah’s wrists.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Sarah gave Mandy a little grin in the rearview mirror.
“Is what your friend said true?” Valdez asked.
“Of course it is,” Sarah said.
“You know, this is twice you two have been made. Maybe it’s time to consider a career change?” Returning to Mandy, Valdez pulled a handcuff key off his utility belt.
“If I had any marketable skills, I’d seriously consider it,” Mandy told him as he unlocked the cuffs. She rubbed at her sore wrists, then her even sorer jaw. “That woman clocked me good. I’m pretty sure she knocked me out. What kind of girl punches like that?”
He scowled, the first time his military-cool mien had cracked a little, displaying a bit of the humanity hidden beneath. “I can call for medical.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.” Mandy gingerly tested her jaw to make sure nothing was broken. “But if Sarah needs to get checked out—”
“I told you, I’m fine. Clark didn’t hit me. He just surprised me in the pool house.” Leaning forward, Sarah whispered in Mandy’s ear, “I think I peed my pants he scared me so bad. I need to go home and change.”
“How long after you went inside did he get you?” Mandy asked, groping around the floor for her missing keys.
“Right away. He jumped me the minute I stepped inside.”
“Shit. He was waiting for us.”
“You think?” Sarah said sarcastically.
Mandy patted around the floor, checked the passenger seat, the console. “Someone took my keys.”
“We can try asking Clark if he has them,” Valdez offered. “Maybe he’s holding on to them so you couldn’t drive away.”
Mandy figured there was basically no chance he’d give them back if he had taken them. But she said, “What the hell, it’s worth a shot.”
Valdez stepped back and spoke into the radio clipped to his uniform.
Having been bent over while looking for the keys, Mandy sat upright. Her head pounded and her stomach twisted. “Ohhh. I’m feeling a little woozy.”
“Maybe you’d better go to the hospital, to be safe,” Sarah said, sounding worried.
“I hate hospitals.”
“Don’t we all?”
“It was only a punch.”
“A punch to the face. And it was hard enough to knock you out. You could have brain damage.”
“Bad news.” Valdez ducked down to peer in the window. “Clark says he doesn’t have your keys.”
Mandy smacked the steering wheel. This was turning out to be the night from hell. “I bet that he-she who punched me took them.”
“If you’re talking about the neighbor, she says she doesn’t have them either,” Valdez said.
Mandy shoved open the door. “One of them is lying, of course.” She lurched out of the car and staggered around, searching the street for her key ring. “With any luck, she threw them where we can find them.”
Sarah joined the search.
“Clark wants to press charges,” Valdez informed them while they walked around in the dark, dragging their feet in the grass. At least he shined his superpowerful flashlight on the ground to help.
“Yeah, no surprise there,” Mandy said, digging her shoes into the grass intentionally.
“Invasion of privacy and trespassing,” Valdez informed her.
Mandy dug her heels in deeper. She was ready to dig a frick-ing ditch she was so angry. “Has anyone called his wife yet?”
“Not sure. I’ll find out.” Valdez handed her the Maglite and stepped out of earshot.
“Do you think she’ll back us up?” Sarah asked, taking a break from the search.
“I hope so! If not, we’re screwed.”
A minute later, Valdez returned. Mandy and Sarah were still searching for the keys. “We’ve heard from the wife. She’s backing your story. You’re lucky. This time. Clark doesn’t have a case on either count.” Valdez extended a hand, wordlessly asking for the return of his flashlight. “Clark isn’t happy. He knows what you look like, what kind of car you drive. I suggest you drop this case and move on to something else.”
“I’m sure Clark would be very happy if we did that. Then he could run around with his mistress all he wants and his wife couldn’t do a damn thing about it.” Mandy plopped her ass onto the curb. “I feel like crap. And we’re not going to find my keys in the fucking dark.”
Sarah sat beside her and gave her some sad eyes. “Do you have an extra set at home?”
“Somewhere. But I can’t remember where I put them. Maybe in my dresser drawer ... ?” Mandy rubbed her sore jaw. “Shit, that hurts.”
“How about I take you to the hospital to get checked out? And Sarah and I will go to your place to look for the extra set of keys?” Valdez offered.
“Can you do that?” Sarah asked him. “Don’t you have to go back to work?”
“Nope. I’m off the clock in ten.” He motioned them toward his car.
Sarah beamed. “That’s very nice. Thank you.”
Mandy was a little less enthusiastic but no less grateful for his help. She slid into the backseat with Sarah and concentrated on not throwing up during the ride to the hospital.
17
Mandy was reading over her discharge papers when she heard footsteps approaching. Hoping it was Sarah, coming to take her home, she glanced up.
Zane?
Ohmygod, what’s he doing here?
His jaw was clenched.
His eyes were dark.
“Hi,” she said, not bothering to hide her surprise.
“Sarah called me.”
“Oh?”
He moved closer, stopping next to her bed. “She asked me to take you home, said she wasn’t able to locate your extra set of keys.”
“She could’ve had her friend Valdez drive her over to the office. She left her car there.”
Zane shrugged. “Maybe she was busy. Maybe they both were.” He leaned in, brushing his mouth over hers. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay. Just a little bruised and sore.” Mandy fingered her jaw. “I was punched in the face. By a woman. The doctors think I might have a slight concussion.”
“Hmmm. If that’s the case, you shouldn’t be alone tonight.” His eyes twinkled, the dark shadows fading slightly.
“Are you volunteering to stay with me?”
“I might be.” He glanced around. “Are you finished?”
“I think so. They gave me my discharge instructions.” She waved the papers.
“Good.” He offered her a hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Cautiously, she slid to her feet. Zane wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her plenty of support as she walked out to the lobby. He left her waiting outside, in a wheelchair, while he dashed out to his parked car. A few minutes later, she was safe and sound in his sleek sports car as it prowled the streets.
At Main Street, Zane made a wrong turn. Had he forgotten where she lived?
“Um, you needed to take a left,” she said.
“I’m not taking you to your house. You’re staying at mine.”
This was one of those moments when she wasn’t so sure she liked that dominant, take-charge air he carried. She was exhausted. She was sore. She felt sick to her stomach. In summary, she had been looking forward to falling into her own bed, wearing her own pajamas ... though she was over-the-moon thrilled to see Zane again. The problem was, she was in no condition to deal with all the emotions his presence stirred up. “I’ll be okay. You can take me home.”
“You’ll stay with me.”
Sarah, why’d you call Zane instead of coming up and getting me
yourself?
Feeling conflicted, Mandy crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. The landscape changed as the car carried her farther from her home. The retail stores lining both sides of the street grew bigger and bigger, finally disappearing as the landscape turned rural. And when he turned onto the street taking them deeper into his neighborhood, the houses grew larger and larger, the wooded lots getting deeper and deeper until you couldn’t see the houses from the road anymore.
Zane’s car turned onto the long winding drive curving up to his house. He parked directly in front of the door, strode around the vehicle to open her door, and offered a supporting arm as she climbed out.
She’d been here before. But that had been during parties. The house had been packed with other people. Noisy. And full of life and laughter and music. Tonight when they stepped inside, the building was unsettlingly silent and empty and dark.
For the first time, she wondered what it might feel like for Zane to live in such an enormous place by himself. Did the echoing click, click, click of his heels on the stone floor make him feel cold and lonely? Did the dark rooms, empty, abandoned, leave him feeling abandoned and empty, too?
He escorted her up the stairs. But to her surprise, he bypassed his bedroom, taking her to the room next to it. Inside, he led her to a large, comfortable-looking bed, piled high with pillows. After she sat, he asked, “What do you normally sleep in?”
“Something comfy—a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.”
“I’ll see what I can find.” He strolled across the room, opening a door positioned on the wall that adjoined his suite. “You have your own private bathroom. I have brand-new toothbrushes, toothpaste, and other personal items in the linen closet. I keep a supply for party guests who wish to stay overnight.”
“Thanks.” Mandy headed toward the bathroom, very aware of how close to Zane she was walking when she neared the door.
He caught her arm as she brushed past him, pulling her into a tight embrace. He cradled her head gently. Silently screaming with glee, she flattened it against his chest and slid her arms around his waist. He was warm and strong, and yet he seemed, for the first time, to be visibly shaken.