Books by Nora Roberts

by Roberts, Nora

  "Well, I eat."

  Beth let out a bright cackle of a laugh. "Welcome to my world. Frannie, this is Ally, new waitress in training. Frannie's captain of the bar here."

  "Nice to meetcha," Frannie called out, flipped a smile, dumping ice into a blender with one hand and shooting soda into a glass with the other.

  "And that gorgeous specimen down the other end of the bar's Pete."

  The big shouldered black man sent them a wink as he measured Kahlua into a short glass.

  "Now, no flirting with Pete, 'cause he's my man and nobody else's. That right, Pete?"

  "You're the one for me, sugar lips."

  With another laugh, Beth unlocked a door marked Employees Only. "Pete's got a beautiful wife and a baby on the way. We just tease. Now, if you need to get in here for any reason—hey, Jan."

  "Hey, Beth." The curvy brunette on the other side of the door had her waist-length hair pulled back with combs from a lovely, heart-shaped face. Ally gauged her as mid-twenties, and a fashion plate. She'd gone for a skirt the approximate size of a table napkin, and a clingy shirt with small silver buttons. Silver winked at her wrists, ears and throat as she freshened her lipstick in a mirror.

  "This is Ally. Fresh meat."

  "Oh, yeah." The smile when she turned was friendly enough, but there was a measuring gleam in her eye. One female sizing up another, and the competition.

  "Jan works the bar area," Beth explained. "But she'll pinch hit in the club if we need her." There was a wild burst of laughter from outside the door. "Tom-toms are beating."

  "I better get out there." Jan tied a short, many-pocketed black apron at her waist. "Good luck, Ally, and welcome aboard."

  "Thanks. Everybody's so friendly," Ally said to Beth when Jan strolled out

  "You get to be kind of a family when you work for Jonah. He's a good boss." She pulled an apron out of a closet. "You work your butt off for him, but he lets you know he notices and that he appreciates. Makes a difference. Here, you'll need this."

  "Have you worked for him long?"

  "About six years, give or take. I handled tables at Fast Break, his sport's bar. And when he opened the club here, he asked me if I wanted to switch. It's a classy place, and closer to home. You can leave your purse in here." She opened a narrow locker. "You reset the combination by spinning around zero twice."

  "Great." Ally set her purse inside, palming her beeper out of it and hooking it on the waist of her skirt under the apron. She shut the locker, set the combination. "I guess that's it."

  "You want to freshen up or anything?"

  "No, I'm fine. A little nervous, I guess."

  "Don't worry. In a few hours your feet are going to ache so bad you won't think about nerves."

  Beth was right. About the feet anyway. By ten, Ally felt she'd hiked twenty miles in the wrong shoes, and lifted approximately three tons of trays loaded with dirty dishes.

  She could have marched the trail from table to kitchen in her sleep.

  The live band was considerably louder than the recorded music that had played until just after nine.

  The crowd shouted above it, crammed the dance floor and jammed together at the tables.

  Ally piled dishes on trays and watched the crowd. There were plenty of designer clothes, expensive watches, cell phones and leather briefcases. She saw a woman flash a lightning bolt diamond engagement ring for three friends.

  Plenty of money here, she noted. And plenty of marks.

  Hefting the loaded tray, she headed off for the kitchen, detouring toward an attractive couple when the man signaled her.

  "Sweetheart, can you get me and my lovely companion a refill here?"

  She leaned closer, pasted on her sweetest smile and made a quiet and crude suggestion.

  The man only grinned. "Cops have such filthy mouths."

  "Next case I'm going to be the one sitting on my butt, Hickman, while you work out," Ally replied. "See anything I should know about?"

  "Nothing's popped yet." He grabbed the hand of the woman sitting next to him. "But Carson and I are in love."

  Lydia Carson gave Hickman's hand a vicious squeeze. "In your dreams."

  "Just keep your eyes open." She aimed a stare at Hickman's glass. "And that better be club soda."

  "She's so strict," she heard Hickman murmur as she walked away.

  "Beth, table… ah, sixteen's looking for a refill."

  "I'm on it. You're doing good, Ally. Go dump those and take your break."

  "You don't have to tell me twice."

  The kitchen was a madhouse, full of noise and shouted orders and heat. Gratefully Ally set down her tray, then lifted her eyebrows as she spotted Frannie slipping out the back door.

  Ally stalled for ten seconds, then followed.

  Frannie was already leaning against the outside wall and taking her first drag from a cigarette. She blew out smoke with a long, relieved sigh. "Break time?"

  "Yeah. I thought I'd grab some air."

  "Zoo in there tonight. Blackhawk's really packs them in." She pulled the cigarettes out of her pocket, offered them.

  "No, thanks. I don't smoke."

  "Good for you. I can't kick it. No smoking in the employee lounge. Jonah gives me a break and lets me use his office if the weather's lousy. So how's your first night?"

  "My feet are killing me."

  "Occupational hazard. First paycheck you buy yourself one of those bubbling footbath things. Put some eucalyptus in it, and go straight to heaven."

  "I'll do that."

  An attractive woman, Ally noted, though the lines around Frannie's eyes made her look older than twenty-eight. She kept her dark red hair cut short and the makeup subtle. Her nails were short and unpainted, her hands ringless. Like the rest of the staff, she wore black, and finished off the simple shirt and slacks with sturdy yet trendy black shoes.

  The only touch of flash was the silver hoops that swung at her ears.

  "How'd you get into tending bar?" Ally asked her.

  Frannie hesitated, then puffed on her cigarette. "I guess I hung out at bars a lot, and when there came a time I was looking for what you could call gainful employment, Jonah asked me if I wanted a job. Trained me over at Fast Break. It's good work. You need a decent memory and people skills. You interested?"

  "I'd better see if I make it through one shift busing before I start raising my sights."

  "You look like you can handle whatever comes along."

  Ally smiled into Frannie's considering eyes. "You think so?"

  "Observation's one of those people skills. And on short observation you don't strike me as the type who expects to make waiting tables her life's work."

  "Gotta start somewhere. And paying the rent's a priority."

  "Don't I know it." Though Frannie had already calculated that Ally's shoes equaled half a month's rent on her own apartment. "Well, if you want to climb the ladder, Jonah's the one to give you a boost. You'd have figured that."

  Frannie dropped the cigarette, crushed out the butt. "Gotta get back. Pete pouts if I go over break."

  The ex-hooker, Ally decided, was proprietary when it came to Jonah. They were probably lovers, she thought as she went back inside. When you factored in his defensive attitude toward her, it added up.

  As lover, as trusted employee, Frannie was in a prime position to cull out marks, to pass the information along. The bar faced the entrance. Whoever went in or out passed by her station.

  People handed her credit cards, and the name and account number led to addresses.

  It would pay to look at her most closely.

  Jonah was doing his own looking. From his office, from the floor. He knew enough about cons, short and long, to calculate who the targets might be. He pegged three possibilities that would have topped his list if he'd been running the game. And since he'd also spotted the cops at table sixteen, he wandered over.

  "Everything all right tonight?"

  The woman beamed up at him, swept back her short swin
g of streaky blond hair with one hand. "Everything's terrific. It's the first night on the town Bob and I have managed in weeks with work keeping both of us so busy."

  "I'm glad you picked my place." Jonah laid a friendly hand on Bob's shoulder, leaned down. "Next time ditch the cop shoes. Dead giveaway. Enjoy your evening."

  He thought he heard the woman snort out a laugh as he walked away.

  He headed for the table Ally was busy cleaning. "How you holding up?"

  "I haven't broken any of your dishes yet."

  "And now you want a raise?"

  "I'm going to stick with my day job, thanks all the same. I'd rather clean up the streets than tables." Absently she pressed a hand to the ache in the small of her back.

  "We go back to bar food at eleven, so the busing slows down."

  "Hallelujah."

  He laid a hand on her arm before she could lift the tray. "You comer Frannie outside?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "She went out, you went out, she came in, you came in."

  "I'm doing my job. However, I resisted shining a light in her eyes and smacking her in the face with my rubber hose. Now let me get on with it."

  She hefted the tray, shoved past him.

  "By the way, Allison."

  She stopped, a snarl working up her throat. "What?"

  "The power ball trounced your guts and efficiency. Eight to two."

  "One game doesn't a season make." She jerked up her chin and strode off. On her way by the dance floor, a man reached out and gave her butt a hopeful pat. As Jonah watched she stopped dead in her tracks, turned slowly and gave him one, long icy look. The man stepped back, lifted his hands in apology and quickly melted into the dancers.

  "Handles herself," Beth said from beside him.

  "Yeah. Yeah, she does."

  "Pulls her weight, too, and doesn't whine about it. I like your girlfriend, Jonah."

  He was too surprised to comment and only stared when Beth hustled away.

  He let out a short laugh and shook his head. Oh, that one had slipped by him. Right on by him.

  Last call was enough to make Ally all but weep with gratitude. She'd been on her feet since eight that morning. Her fondest wish was to go home, fall into bed and sleep for the precious five hours she had before starting it all over again.

  "Go on home," Beth ordered. "We'll go over closing tomorrow night. You did fine."

  "Thanks. I mean it."

  "Will, let Ally into the lounge, will you?"

  "No problem. Nice crowd tonight. Nothing I like better than a crowded club. Want a drink before you head out?"

  "Not unless I can stick my feet in it."

  He chuckled, patted her back. "Frannie pour me one, will you?"

  "Already on it."

  "I like a brandy at the end of a shift. One glass of the good stuff. You change your mind," he said as he unlocked the door. "Just pull up a stool. The man, he doesn't charge employees for an end of shift drink."

  He went off, whistling through his teeth.

  Ally shoved her apron into her locker, pulled out her bag and jacket. She was just putting the jacket on when Jan breezed in. "Heading out? You look beat. Me, I'm just hitting stride this time of night."

  "My stride hit me about an hour ago." Ally paused at the door. "Don't your feet hurt?"

  "Nan. I got arches of steel. And most guys tip better if you walk around on skinny heels." She bent to run a hand up her leg. "I believe in using what works."

  "Yeah. Well, good night."

  Ally stepped out of the lounge, shutting the door behind her, and bumped solidly into Jonah.

  "Where'd you park?" he asked her.

  "I didn't. I walked." Ran, she remembered, but it came to the same thing.

  "I'll drive you home."

  "I can walk. It's not far."

  "It's two in the morning. A block is too far."

  "For heaven's sake, Blackhawk, I'm a cop."

  "So naturally, bullets bounce off you."

  Before she could argue, he caught her chin in his hand. The gesture, the firm grip of his fingers, shocked her to silence. "You're not a cop at the moment," he murmured. "You're a female employee and the daughter of a friend. I'll drive you home."

  "Fine. Dandy. My feet hurt anyway."

  She started to shove his hand away, but he beat her to it and shifted his grip to her arm.

  "Night, boss." Beth called out, grinning at them as they passed. "Get that girl off her feet."

  "That's my plan. Later, Will. Night, Frannie."

  Suspicion was buzzing in Ally's brain as Will lifted his brandy snifter and Frannie watched her with quiet and serious eyes.

  "What was that?" Ally demanded when they stepped out in the cool air. "What exactly was that?"

  "That was me saying good-night to friends and employees. I'm parked across the street."

  "Excuse me, my feet have gone numb, not my brain. You gave those people the very distinct impression that we have a thing here."

  "That's right. I didn't consider it, either, until Beth made some remark earlier. It simplifies things."

  She stopped beside a sleek black Jaguar. "Just how do you figure that having people think there's a personal thing between us simplifies anything?"

  "And you call yourself a detective." He unlocked the passenger door, opened it. "You're a beautiful blonde with legs up to your ears. I hire you, out of the blue, when you have basically no experience. The first assumption from people who know me is I'm attracted to you. The second would be you're attracted to me. Add all those together and you end up with romance. Or at least sex. Are you going to get in?"

  "You haven't explained how those deductions equal simple."

  "If people think we're involved they won't think twice if I give you a little leeway, if you come up to my office. They'll be friendlier."

  Ally said nothing while she let it run through her head. Then she nodded. "All right. There's an advantage to it."

  Going with impulse he shifted, boxed her in between his body and the car door. There was a light breeze, just enough to stir her scent. There was a three-quarter moon, bright enough to sprinkle silver into her eyes. The moment, he decided, seemed to call for it.

  "Could be more than one advantage to it."

  The thrill that sprinted straight up her spine irritated her. "Oh, you're going to want to step back, Blackhawk."

  "Bern's at the window of the bar, and she's got a romantic heart despite everything that's happened to her. She's hoping for a moment here. A long, slow kiss, the kind that slides over melting sighs and heats the blood."

  His hands came to her hips as he spoke, rode up to just under her breasts. Her mouth went dry and the ache in her belly was a wide stretch of longing.

  "You're going to have to disappoint her."

  Jonah skimmed his gaze down to her mouth. "She's not the only one." But he released her, stepped back. "Don't worry, Detective. I never hit on cops, or daughters of friends."

  "Then I guess I've got a double shield against your wild and irresistible charms."

  "Good thing for both of us, because I sure as hell like the look of you. You getting in?"

  "Yeah, I'm getting in." She got into the car and waited until the door shut before letting out the long, painful breath she'd been holding.

  Wherever that spurt of lust inside her had come from, it would just have to go away again. Cool off, she ordered herself, but her heart was bumping madly against her rib cage. Cool off and focus on the job.

  Jonah slid in beside her, annoyed that his pulse wasn't quite steady. "Where to?" When she rattled off the address, he shoved the key into the ignition and aimed one hot look at her. "That's a damn mile. Why the hell did you walk?"

  "Because it was rush hour. It's quicker. And it's ten blocks."

  "That's just stupid."

  She had a response for that. The venom of it scalded her tongue as she rounded on him. She didn't even recognize the vibration of her beeper for several seconds, mistak
ing it for the vibration of rage.

  She yanked it from her skirt, checked the number. "Damn it Damn it." From her purse she pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed. "Detective Fletcher. Yeah, I got it I'm on my way."

  Calming herself, she shoved the phone back into her purse. "Since you're determined to play cab driver, let's get going. I've got another B and E."

  "Give me the address."

  "Just take me home so I can get my car."

  "Give me the address, Allison. Why waste time?"

  Chapter 3

  Jonah dropped her off in front of an attractive, ranch-style home in an upscale development convenient to the freeway. In reasonable traffic, the commute to downtown would take under twenty minutes.

  The Chamberses, Ally discovered, were an attractive, upscale couple, both lawyers in their early thirties, childless professionals, who spent their comfortable income on the good life.

  Wine, wardrobe, jewelry, art and music.

  "They got my diamond earrings, and my Cartier tank watch." Maggie Chambers rubbed her eyes as she sat in what was left of her sprawling great room. "We haven't gone through everything, but there were Dali and Picasso lithographs on that wall there. And in that niche there was an Erte sculpture we bought at an auction two years ago. Joe collected cuff links. I don't know how many pairs he had offhand, but he had diamond ones, and ruby for his birthstone and several antique pair."

  "They're insured." Her husband reached out to take her hand, squeeze it.

  "It doesn't matter. It's not the same. Those thugs were in our house. In our house, Joe, and they've taken our things. Damn it, they stole my car. My brand-new BMW, and it didn't have five thousand miles on it. I loved that stupid car."

  "Mrs. Chambers, I know it's hard."

  Maggie Chambers whipped her gaze toward Ally. "Have you ever been robbed, Detective?"

  "No." Ally set her notebook on her knee a moment. "But I've worked plenty of burglaries, robberies, muggings."

  "It's not the same."

  "Maggie, she's just doing her job."

  "I know. I'm sorry. I know." She covered her face with her hands, drew air in, slowly let it out "I've got the shakes, that's all. I don't want to stay here tonight."

  "We don't have to. We'll go to a hotel. How much more do you need, Detective… was it Fletcher?"