She liked being here in the cozy house with Jack—maybe too much—but this wasn’t a permanent arrangement. The sooner she could get back in her own house, with her life back on track, the better. As for where that would leave her and Jack, she was willing to wait and see, and maybe hope a little. It was all she could manage at the moment.
She heard the shower running and decided to go get dressed. Walking by the bathroom, she inhaled the scent of musky soap that drifted into the hallway. She stood outside the door for a moment, contemplating, and then shook her head, and walked down to her room, firmly shutting the door.
Quickly brushing her hair and tying it back in a long, thick braid, she put on a well-worn pair of low-rider jeans and a boxy dark blue sweatshirt, the edge of which just skimmed the top of her jeans. She heard the shower stop, and she grabbed her small cosmetics kit. Opening her door, she stepped gingerly out into the hall and almost collided with Jack in the narrow hallway.
His hair was wet and tousled and water gleamed off his skin; he wore only a white towel, and even that, loosely. His stomach was muscular and lean, the five-o’clock shadow was gone, and the eyes she met as she finished her long survey of his body were laughing. He reached out, tugging on the braid that lay over one shoulder.
“Hey there, Heidi. Wanna come out to play?”
She raised an eyebrow, resisted grinning, and stuck her nose primly in the air. “That’s Swiss Miss to you.”
He stepped to the left to let her pass, and she did so, but didn’t take her eyes off him, not trusting the glint in his eye. She had just made it to the bathroom door when…thwack! She felt the sharp sting on her butt and jumped, hollering in surprise.
She spun around, and could only stare with her eyes wide. Words stuck in her throat as she watched him saunter down the hall away from her, his fabulous bare buttocks in full view as he twirled the damp white towel victoriously in circles at his side. She could have sworn he chuckled as he disappeared into his room.
* * *
SHE SIPPED COFFEE and looked out the window, then back to the pad of paper on the counter, jotting down some things on her list.
“What’d’ya got there?” She hadn’t even heard him come in, and glanced up with a start; he was all dry now, and she noted how his amber hair curled where it was still damp, just around the edges, and settled in waves across his forehead. He picked up the steaming cup of black coffee and repeated his question.
“Oh, sorry. Shopping list. You have no food.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I eat out a lot.”
“No problem. I’ll go to the store. I want to make you dinner, and it will give me something to do.”
“I’d like that a lot—haven’t had anything made at home in a while.”
“Great! I won’t be too long.”
She went to grab her coat and make her escape. She needed to get out for a while, to think. Or to not think. As she passed by, he snagged her elbow and yanked her up against him, sealing a kiss to her mouth, then abruptly letting her go.
She lifted her hand to her mouth, her eyes dazed. When she looked up at him he had a lazy kind of self-satisfied look on his face that made her blink, and before she thought about it too much, she flung her forearm around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him back and running her tongue sensuously over his bottom lip for good measure. Now he was dazed. She smiled, and headed out.
* * *
RAINE LOVED the town of Gloucester. She had been here a few times in summer, but it was glorious in winter. She wandered around for a long while, visiting the Fisherman’s Memorial, which always tugged at her heart. In the stark cold it seemed an even more brutal reminder of what had happened to those that had “gone down to the sea in ships.” How many of them had loved and been lost—or worse, had not loved at all before sailing out to their deaths? Running her gloved fingers over some of the names, she sighed and turned away.
She wandered the streets a little more, gazing out over the harbor, before eventually strolling into a small specialty-food store. Grabbing a basket, she went up and down the aisles, making choices carefully, and thinking about what Jack had said.
She did want to thank him for being so good to her, and cooking was one way she could do that, but she didn’t mean it in a distant, formal way. In fact, this would be the only time she had ever shopped and cooked for a man in his own house. It was an interesting feeling.
It wasn’t long before the basket was full. She had even decided to try to make some bread. How hard could it be? She read the recipe on the back of a bag of flour, and thought it looked fairly straightforward. Why not?
Happily, she unloaded her goods on the single counter by the cashier—they must not get too much of a rush around here, she thought, smiling. Her groceries rung up and bagged, the young girl turned to her, obviously uncomfortable.
“Um, miss, your card didn’t go through.”
Raine stared at her. “What? There must be a mistake.”
The girl shook her head. “I’ll try it again, but the machine says it was refused.”
The cashier slid her card through again, and her face was tense as she turned back to Raine. “I’m sorry....”
“No, that can’t be right! There isn’t even a balance on this card.”
“Would you like to try another one?”
Raine nodded, and slid the only other credit card she had with her across the counter. A heavy weight sat in her gut and she knew something was wrong. A few moments later, the same story; that card didn’t work, either.
“Do you have an ATM?”
The cashier nodded and pointed to the machine by the door, and Raine went to it, slid her card in and paled, feeling her knees go wobbly when not only did the screen tell her that she had a zero balance, but it wouldn’t return her card. The cashier was calling her, someone else was in line waiting.
“Miss? Miss? Are you taking these groceries?”
Raine stared at her and shook her head, turned abruptly and fled out the door, making her way on shaking legs back to the car. She drove back to the house caught somewhere between fear and rage, trying to concentrate on driving down the winter highway, dealing with the winding road and the thoughts jamming in her head. By the time she parked, she was numb with anger.
As she went up the walk, she saw the door open, and Jack appeared on the step, handsome and smiling.
“Need help? What—” He stopped, looked at her once and raced down the walk. “Raine…what is it? What happened?”
She was so angry—she had never been this angry—she could barely form thoughts. He put his hands on her shoulders, looked into her stormy eyes filling with tears, and he noticed she was shaking. He put his arm around her and guided her inside.
“Tell me.”
She told him what happened at the store and felt his hand tighten on hers, his eyes darkening with fury and concern. She fell back against the sofa.
“So, I have no money, I have no credit, and I have no food. I don’t know what to do. I can’t go to my house, I can’t go to work, I can’t use my car. He is stripping my life away bit by bit. It has to stop. We have to do something, if no one else will. I can’t just sit around taking this. I won’t.”
Jack was glad that she wanted to fight back. He had been thinking along similar lines while she was gone, but didn’t know if she would feel inclined to try to trap her harasser.
“Yeah, he’s ticked—he knows you have moved by now, but he doesn’t know where. He’s probably checked the magazine somehow, noted no use of your email. He may be trying to flush you out.”
He took her hand in his and played with her fingers. “He won’t give up and go away, Rainey, so maybe the next best thing is to lure him in. Let him find us.”
She nodded, feeling scared, exhilarated, and without a clue as to exactly how they were supposed to do that.
“Yes, I want to do that—but how?” She paced around the coffee table. “I have to call the police—this should be r
eported, anyway, not that they can do anything.”
Jack nodded. “Do that now. I might have a plan. We’ll talk about it after you get off the phone.”
She nodded, went to the phone and called Detective Delaney. Luckily, he was in.
When she got off the phone, her mouth was set in a grim line, and she wondered what Jack’s plan was—they weren’t going to wait for this guy to slip up—they would make him slip up. She wanted her life back.
Jack came to sit with her on the sofa and she told him about the phone call.
“What did Delaney say?”
“Still not much he could do personally, but he was going to contact someone in Boston at their computer crime unit to come down and talk to me, said he would let me know when.”
“Good, at least he’s doing something.”
She rubbed her hands over her eyes. Someone must have a voodoo doll and they were jabbing a pin right between her eyes that very moment, because that’s what her head felt like. He peeled her hands down, and pulled her up off the couch.
“C’mon.”
“Where?”
“We’re going to run by your house, get your credit card statements so tomorrow we can make some calls, try to do some damage control. Then I’ll tell you my plan.”
13
LATER THAT EVENING they sat in the corner of an out-of-the-way seafood restaurant, munching on fried clams and spicy French fries, and drinking glasses of a fairly decent chardonnay. Raine hadn’t realized how hungry she was—her stomach was in such knots from stress that she’d forgotten she’d only eaten a banana all day, and Jack had not even had that much.
They went to her house, which felt strange—it was her home, and yet it felt unsafe to be there. She found her recent statements, took a few more things she needed and called a truck to come take her car to a local garage. Having it sitting in the driveway with its wheels all flat was a depressing sight. The garage said it would be a few days until they could get to it, but she felt lifted by the idea of having one normal thing accomplished.
She looked out the window into the darkness. “So, you said you had thought of a plan?”
He nodded. “Yeah, well, I have some information.” He paused as her eyes went wide and focused on him intently. “I was messing with those emails that were sent to you before, and seeing if I couldn’t trace something more in them, and I did manage to trace some of them.”
“And?”
Jack sighed. “Well, I don’t have an ID, but I have narrowed down the field. I think it’s someone at the magazine.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, and he could see she went pale even in the warm light of the restaurant.
“How do you know?”
“The email was traced back to the office. Whoever sent it sent it from inside. That’s why I couldn’t find any break-ins. I’ve been working on this for a few days, and wanted to be sure before I said anything, and even then, it’s a little vague—I know where the emails came from but not from whom.”
“How do you know?” Her voice and eyes burned into him insistently.
“After the first bunch of emails, I placed a monitor behind the firewall—we call it a sniffer—no one would see it if they didn’t know to look, or where to look. It tells me about all the internet traffic going in and out of the magazine. The weird thing is, the bunch of emails sent to you first—the ones before the roses—came from outside, and were anonymous. The second ones, the reader responses, were also anonymous, but they came from inside—no traffic left the network. A little more work, and I could tell that some of them—the ones that went to subscribers—came from your own machine. He sent them directly from your office, Rainey. Sat in your chair and answered your email for you. Ballsy bastard.”
“So what now?” She felt slightly queasy and pushed her food away—the person who did this worked at the magazine. She could have stood by him at the coffeemaker, passed by him in the hallway. He had been in her office—at her desk. Her stomach turned, but then the anger kicked back in. The idea that someone she possibly knew, even slightly, had done this was reprehensible.
“Whatever it is, I want to do it. I don’t care what—anything is preferable to sitting and waiting.”
“Okay, but we have to move fast, capitalize on the credit card thing that happened today. I figure you can send him an email and tell him that we know this much, and soon we’ll know more. You can say you don’t want more trouble, but you will make it if he doesn’t come to meet you.”
Raine frowned. “He might know that’s a trap. Kind of obvious, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I thought of that, but I also figure he’s running out of options. He’s lost the ability to contact you, he’s done everything he can do for the moment, and may just be cornered enough to bite. And we can add the pressure that we are going to the cops and the magazine with what we know if he doesn’t show. Then we can just see who shows up.”
Raine nodded. “That’s good—it might work, but I am going with you. I’m not just sitting home and waiting while you go save the world. Let’s do it. We’ll send the email when we get home tonight. I want this done with.”
Jack grinned and stroked her fingers where her hand lay on the table. “Wow, you’re sexy when you’re tough.”
Raine grinned back. Their dinner plates were empty, and though she was full, she was actually considering dessert. Her appetite surged back; she figured trapping a bad guy took a lot of energy.
“Share a dessert with me?”
Jack lowered his voice. “Maybe we can take one home and find some…creative use for it.”
Raine raised her eyebrows and remembered getting that same offer from Jerry, which seemed as if it had happened a million years ago. But then it hadn’t been nearly as appealing as Jack made it sound now.
Jack watched the movements of her eyes and wondered what she was thinking. He imagined licking hot fudge off her breasts, and shifted in his seat, suddenly a little uncomfortable.
“We should have bought some goodies when we were at the store.”
Her voice was husky and sexy as hell, and he definitely couldn’t stand up now without embarrassing himself completely. He cleared his throat, and smiled.
“I think I could manage a piece of pie, if we share. And as for the goodies, we’ll definitely add them to the next grocery list. I’m thinking hot fudge.”
Raine felt her heart pound a little harder at the thought of it, drifting away until the voice of the waitress shook her from her erotic reverie. She glanced at the pretty young girl, but forgot what she wanted to say—what was she supposed to be doing right now? She flushed as Jack’s fingers squeezed hers, and he smiled at her knowingly as he ordered them a piece of cherry pie and coffees. Raine licked her lips.
“You are full of surprises, Jack. I don’t think I have ever been so distracted by thinking about a trip to the grocery store.”
“I don’t think it was the grocery shopping that had you distracted.” He laughed in a low, sexy way that made her skin tingle, then he became more serious. “So, we are going through with this?”
She nodded. “Yes—let’s do it.”
* * *
ON THE WAY HOME, Raine thought she already felt lighter just because she was finally taking some action, doing something rather than just sitting around waiting for the situation to resolve itself. It felt good.
She had a gut feeling this plan would work, that she could get her life back, and the thought gave her new energy and focus.
Jack responded to the change in her, perhaps feeling better himself. They bantered and chatted all the way back to the house, enjoying the ride and each other’s company.
Jack grabbed the few bags of things they had picked up at the town grocery, and headed to the door. His hands full, he dropped the keys into Raine’s hand and asked if she could get the door and the mail. She did, checking the box, and picked up a small package wrapped in brown paper. They got through the door, hands full and anxious to get thei
r plan started.
Jack took the bags directly into the kitchen, and Raine set the stack of envelopes and the package on the table, noting that several of the pieces of mail had come in cheerfully colored red or green envelopes with snowman stamps. She had almost forgotten. Christmas was only a few weeks away.
She hadn’t intended to look at Jack’s mail, but her eyes slid across the address on a large sticker attached to the package, and she frowned when she took a closer look. The return address was from the town she had grown up in—in fact, she knew the street quite well, as she had gone to piano lessons there—and the name on the return was Harris. She was standing, staring at the package when Jack called to her.
“Hey, what was that package—can you bring it in here?”
She glanced toward the kitchen guiltily. Hanging her coat on the rack, she picked up the package and brought it into the kitchen. She set it on the table and looked at him. He cocked his head, curious about what had put that odd look on her face. Then, crossing, he looked at the package, and it hit him—she’d noticed the return address. Oh, boy. Okay.
“Ah, a Christmas package from my parents.”
“Your parents? They live in Essex?”
“Um, yeah.”
“I lived in Essex.”
He hesitated. “I know.”
Jack pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully. It was best to deal with this before they got deeper into their relationship. He was already more than half in love with her, and before he fell the rest of the way, she had to know the whole story. He braced himself for how she would react.
“We lived in the same town. Growing up.”
She looked up at him, her forehead creased.
“What do you mean?”
They stopped and faced each other, and Raine stared at him.... He was making her a little nervous now, as he looked at his feet, then out over the water, then, finally at her.
Yours for the Night Page 34