Live in Person

by Lynda Fitzgerald

  “You really think your brother would do this kind of crap. He has too much—oops!” She covered her hands with her mouth and raced to the bathroom.

  Allie heard the now familiar sounds of retching and flushing, then water running in the sink. She was surprised when Sheryl walked back into the room smiling. She raised her eyebrows.

  Sheryl shrugged. “It’s different now that I know what’s causing it. Besides, Libby says it’ll end soon.” She leaned against the sofa. “Back to Sidney.”

  Allie groaned.

  “He’s a problem that won’t go away… for either of us, but at least I have some training and carry a weapon. You, on the other hand, are a civilian wimp.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Truth hurts. It’ll hurt more if he gets hold of you.” She straightened. “I have to get to work, but think about it. I could teach you to handle a gun, and Del could show you some nifty self-defense moves. At least, you wouldn’t be completely unprotected.”

  When Sheryl was gone, Allie thought about it. She’d never had any dealings with guns other than as someone’s target, but Sheryl had a point. If she was going to continue in her line of work, she’d better think seriously about learning some self-defense techniques.

  She resolved to go talk to Del about taking some classes. And she could own a gun. It wouldn’t kill her. Hopefully, it wouldn’t kill anyone else, either.

  ■ ■ ■

  Sidney smiled as he slipped his clipboard under his arm and headed back to his car. He didn’t care if the construction workers saw him. He was dressed as a middle-aged guy. He’d added heft to his upper body with a down vest under his jacket and sprayed silver in his hair. Just to be safe, he’d also added a few pounds to his face with his mother’s stage makeup, noticeable bags under his eyes, and topped it all off with a crepe hair mustache. Those were the things people noticed, not hands or ear shape. In fact, few people ever noticed shit.

  Speaking of which, he hoped Allie liked her new present. He’d intended to leave it for her overnight when he was less likely to be noticed, but with no car in her driveway, it was irresistible. Why put off until tomorrow fear she could feel today.

  He chuckled as he climbed into the innocuous blue Ford he stole that morning from his long-term shopping lot. He’d returned the other two vehicles to the airport without a hitch, wiping them clean before slipping on winter gloves to drive them back. It might be Florida, but it was damn cold, at least by his standards; gloves would be unremarkable. And they wouldn’t notice their cars had been used until they realized they had the wrong plates. Then, what would they do? It was a schoolboy prank. No one would link it to him.

  OK. So Allie Grainger wasn’t home. Where was she?

  He spotted her Jeep as he drove past Lester’s parking lot. She was so stupidly predictable. This was where she’d come every time she spotted him following her. He hesitated for only a moment before turning into the lot. He was going in. He wanted to see who she was with and what she was doing. The risk only enhanced his excitement. Still, disguise or not, he’d have to move carefully or his limp would give him away.

  He stepped in the door and quickly moved to the bar, not even giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the gloomy interior. The fewer people who noticed him, the better. The place was packed, at least for Thursday lunchtime. Either people were getting a head start on the weekend, or the food was damn good. He didn’t care. It provided him much-needed cover. He edged between two guys watching television and ordered a beer. As he waited, he watched the bar mirror.

  There she was at the end of the bar, hunched over in conversation with a guy who looked like a tank. Jesus, Sidney wouldn’t want to tangle with him. Hands like hams, shoulders he probably had to turn sidewise to get into a door. If this were her current boyfriend, Sidney would give him a wide berth.

  He took his beer and was about to make a move down the bar when the outside door swung open. Sidney chanced a quick peek and almost pissed his pants. Levine. Shit, if she spotted him, he was a dead man. She passed without a glance in his direction and headed straight for the other end of the bar. When she got there, the tank guy wrapped his arms around her and swung her in the air. Sidney expected her to punch the guy’s lights out; instead, she grinned like an idiot. Interesting.

  Sidney decided to take a chance. None of them even looked his way as he moved toward them. The jostling from the crowd hid his limp. When he was close enough to hear, he again slipped between two men at the bar until he was invisible.

  “…telling Del I want to take some classes from him. You know, basic self-defense,” Allie said. “With Sidney on the loose, it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Sidney sputtered in his beer. What an idiot! Did she think a few self-defense courses could protect her from a trained law enforcement officer? What the hell. Let her think it. False confidence could be a killer.

  “Did you give any thought to buying a gun?” Levine asked. “I could give you lessons.”

  “That too,” Allie said. “I’m going to need all the help I can get with two men after me.”

  Two men?

  Now, the tank piped up. “You don’t think your brother would do anything to harm you, do you? I mean physically.”

  When Allie turned to the tank, her gaze passed right over him without recognition. “Who knows? He’s making threats. He even showed up where I work, trying to make me look like the heavy. He’s good at that. And I know Len. He never gives up. He’ll keep it up until he gets his share of the inheritance, and I’ll tell you, I’ll kill him before he sees a dime of Aunt Lou’s money.”

  Her voice had risen, and a couple of people turned around to look. Apparently, the tank noticed. “So you’ve said before, but you want to watch that kind of talk in public. Folks might get the wrong idea.”

  Allie dropped her head in her hands. “You know I don’t mean it. It’s just so frustrating. He’s always done this kind of thing. I was in trouble half my childhood because Len made everything look as if it was my fault. Then, if I called him on it, he’d play the poor injured party. I just wish he’d go home and leave me alone.”

  The tank started to say something when the other bartender called, “Hey, lover boy, you wanna give me a hand? I’m drowning here.” That got him on his feet.

  Allie and Sheryl continued to talk, their heads close together, but it didn’t matter. Sidney had heard enough. Plenty. He began to work his way back down the bar. So, the brother and sister were at odds, and she’d been threatening him in public. Poor stupid Allie Grainger. She didn’t know it, but she’d handed him the weapon he needed. Now, he just had to load it and fire.

  ■ ■ ■

  Allie spotted the wrapped package on her doorstep before she even turned into her driveway and felt a little twist in her belly that might have been fear; but before she defined it, anger swept it out of the way. She was tired of these childish pranks. She refused to be intimidated by a little dog poop. At least, she hoped the last package had been dog poop. For just an instant, she considered calling Sheryl, but that was ridiculous. They hadn’t found prints on the last box or wrapping or in her house after the breakin. There was no reason to think her secret admirer had gotten careless this time.

  She slammed out of the Jeep and headed for her front door, ignoring the greetings Frank and his crew called down. When she reached the box, she hesitated again. What if it was a bomb of some kind? A bomb? Was she crazy? Sidney wouldn’t blow her up unless he was there to watch, and Len—well, maybe, if he thought he was her heir. What was she thinking? Len wasn’t a killer. A bully, yes, and good at it, but not a killer.

  Fury at being the butt of these ongoing pranks overrode caution. She snatched up the box, tearing at the wrappings, ripped off the lid—and screamed.

  Fourteen

  Allie flung the box away from her, but it was too late. They were on her, in her clothes, everywhere. She screamed again, beating at her body and tearing at her clothes. “Get them off me. Oh, God!”


  Suddenly, Frank Gray was at her elbow, his son Bobby on his heels. “What is it? What’s on you?”

  “Roaches. Oh, God, roaches! They’re all over me. Help me get them off. Hurry!”

  She saw the men exchange glances as she yanked her top over her head. Two black palmetto bugs crawled away as it hit the ground. Frank stomped them before pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around her. She kicked off her shoes and ripped off her pants, sending another half-dozen bugs scurrying for protection. She shook her hair and dug her fingers through it.

  When she heard Frank say, “They’re only bugs,” she realized what she’d done. She was standing on her front stoop wearing only her panties and bra and Frank’s jacket. She was sure her remaining neighbors were staring out their windows at her, not to mention the entire construction crew

  She pulled Frank’s jacket around her and tried to shove her key in her front-door lock, but her hands shook too badly. “Help me get inside,” she begged. She handed her keys to Frank.

  He unlocked the door and swung it wide for her to enter.

  “I’m sorry,” she told the men who stood staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Wait here for a minute. Please.”

  In her bedroom, she stripped off Frank’s jacket, then her underwear, and checked every inch of her body. Nothing. They were gone. Thank God, they were gone. She could still feel them crawling on her, but it was her imagination. They were gone.

  She slipped on a bathrobe and went back into the living room, her face burning in shame. She handed Frank his jacket. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s a fear. Irrational, I know, but I can’t stand them.”

  “No problem,” Frank said, his voice gruff. “My wife’s the same way.”

  “Did you see who left the box on my doorstep?” She looked from one man to the other, not really expecting that they had.

  “Not the same guy who left the first package,” Bobby said.

  Allie looked at him, surprised, and he colored. “I’m not being nosy or anything, but the present was hard to miss, all wrapped up in pretty paper and a bow. I thought that maybe you had a secret admirer. Courier delivered it.”

  “What did he look like?”

  Bobby piped up. “Skinny guy. Dark hair. Carrying a clipboard or something.”

  “What about today?” his dad asked. “Same guy?”

  Bobby shook his head. “No, today’s guy was different. Older. Kind of chunky, if you know what I mean.” He scratched his head. “And it was a different car. Blue Ford Taurus. New. The last one was a Lexus. I remember thinking it was a pretty nice car for a courier. City Courier. You might call them and see if they can tell you who ordered the delivery.”

  Allie stared at him. “That’s amazing.”

  Frank beamed on his son with pride. “Bobby notices everything. He’s going to college at night. Majoring in Criminal Justice. He just made the Dean’s List.”

  “I’m only a sophomore,” Bobby said, blushing scarlet. “I hear it gets harder as you go along.”

  “Well, when you get to be a senior, let me know,” Allie said. “I have a lot of connections with the Sheriff’s Office, and I’ll be glad to put in a good word for you.”

  She let Frank and a grinning Bobby out and locked the front door after them. After scrubbing for fifteen minutes in a scalding shower—she could still feel the hideous roaches crawling all over her—she called Sheryl. Then, she did something she rarely did at home, especially in the daytime. She had a drink.

  ■ ■ ■

  “It had to be Sidney,” Allie said, sipping her rum and Coke.

  Sheryl had laughed at her, calling it the training bra for drinkers, but it was all Allie had in the house, a leftover from her Aunt Lou. Training bra or not, it had the desired effect; she could now get the glass to her mouth without spilling half.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Don’t you remember? He did the same thing to us when we were fifteen. It didn’t bother you, but it scared me to death.”

  “I’d forgotten all about that. Yeah, I remember. But what’s the big deal? They’re just bugs.”

  Allie shuddered. “To you, maybe, but they terrify me.”

  “They can’t bite you or anything.”

  “I know they can’t bite me,” Allie said sharply. Then she blew out a breath. “I know my fear’s irrational, but I’ve always been terrified of them, and Sidney knows that.”

  “What about Len?”

  Allie laughed. “Len’s even more scared of them than I am, if that’s possible. There’s no way he could have put them in the box, and it’s not the kind of thing you go out and buy, even on eBay.” She shook her head. “No, it’s Sidney, which means he’s been around all the time.”

  Sheryl scuffed her boot on the carpet. “We have to involve the sheriff.”

  Allie was beyond trying to protect anyone but herself. “By all means. Involve the whole department. If Sidney’s around, I need all the help I can get.” She took a sip of her drink and made a face. “This is disgusting.”

  “Told you.”

  “Anyway, you should have seen me standing out there, ripping off my clothes, and screaming. God, how humiliating!”

  “Bet the neighbors got an eyeful.”

  “And all Frank’s crew. And probably Sidney, if he was anywhere around.” She could feel her face burn. “Oh, God, Sheryl, I hope he wasn’t. I’d die if he saw how well he succeeded in terrifying me.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Sidney sat at the Hilton bar, nursing his beer and basking in the glow of his success. Jesus, she went crazy! It was better than he expected. He never in his wildest dreams—and he had some wild ones—imagined her tearing off her clothes like that. He squirmed on his stool. Not a bad body, if a little skinny. Nice ass, though. He wondered if she always wore those tiny little bikini panties.

  He shook himself. Enough of that. He didn’t need the distraction. What he needed was a break. His plan was set. The sooner he pulled it off, the better. He’d sit glued to this stool every day if he had to, but he was counting on a bit of luck. Her brother was here at the hotel. Sidney had checked, and his car was in the parking lot. What the hell could he be doing up in his hotel room? He chuckled as a few possibilities crossed his mind. Whatever. Sidney was willing to wait. Minus his weapon, he was in uniform this time. What better to inspire trust? Even the bartender treated him more nicely once Sidney told him he was off duty. The disguise this time was blonde hair and his favorite mustache with horn-rimmed glasses. Nerd, intellectual, Scandinavian cop.

  The place was nearly deserted. Two business types in dark suits sat at the far end of the bar, making multimillion deals, maybe. Or swapping sports scores. Who gave a shit? A horny couple crawled all over each other in a booth in the corner. If Sidney had been the bartender, he’d have told them to take it upstairs.

  He’d just ordered his second beer when his break came. He watched Allie’s brother enter the room, take in the businessmen and the couple, and then perch on a stool one down from Sidney. Sidney ignored him. Let the man come to him this time. The guy ordered a Manhattan—fucking sissy drink—and ate the cherry when it arrived. What a pussy. Then he tipped the drink off in one big swallow. When he didn’t fall off his stool, Sidney reconsidered, and smiled. Maybe a drunk pussy. The brother ordered a beer, and Sidney did a mental cheer. One beer should do the trick, but again he’d underestimated him.

  It wasn’t until two beers later that he began to look around. He saw Sidney and frowned, trying to jar his memory, no doubt. After a minute, his brow cleared. “Hey, again,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Sidney shook it but feigned confusion for just a minute. Then, “Oh, hi, I remember you. You’re Allie Grainger’s brother.”

  His words had the desired effect; the guy reared back on his stool, almost losing his balance. “Don’t even say her name around me.”

  “Family trouble, huh?”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  Sidney scooted over next to
him. In a low voice, he said, “I wasn’t going to say anything, you being her brother and all, but she’s not very popular with the local cops.”

  Len looked again at his uniform. “You a police officer?”

  Sidney nodded, assuming the guy wouldn’t know the area well enough to tell the difference between a city uniform and county. “She’s all cozied up with the sheriff, but we’re keeping an eye on her.”

  “What for?” the dude asked, scowling.

  “Nothing big,” Sidney said hastily. He couldn’t blow it now, not when he was so close. He remembered what she’d said about her inheritance. “Talk is she’s ripped off a couple of contractors. Had them do the work and then reneged on the bill. That kind of thing.”

  Len scowled. “Sounds like her. She’s the greediest woman alive.” He finished his second beer, and Sidney held up two fingers to the bartender. “But she’ll be sorry,” Len said.

  “You think so? What can an honest man like you do against someone like her? We’ve been watching her for months without a break. All we have are their allegations.”

  Len looked at the fresh beer the bartender placed in front of him. “Did I order that?”

  “I did,” Sidney said. “Figured you deserved at least a drink.”

  Len excused himself, staggering slightly as he headed toward the men’s room.

  The bartender made his way down to where Sidney sat. “Your friend OK?” he asked, nodding at Len.

  “He’s OK,” Sidney said. “Just having women trouble. Better to let him spill his guts.”

  “Should I take that?” The bartender started to reach for Len’s beer.

  Sidney intercepted it. “Nah, let him get drunk. That way, he’ll hate himself more than he hates her, and that’ll be the end of it.” When the bartender looked skeptical, he said, “He’s staying here at the hotel. If I have to, I’ll take him upstairs and pour him in bed.”

  The business guys waved their check in the air, and the bartender moved off to take their money. While his back was turned, Sidney stirred three of his sleeping bombs from the hospital into his beer. He’d switched the glasses by the time Len returned.