“Calm down,” Helen said. “If you ask me, he’s probably just a lust-filled, middle-aged man who can’t get it up anymore, and your shop drives that fact home to him.”
“Maybe he’s lusting after you,” Riley added.
“After me? I’m no sexpot.”
“Maybe he sees beyond the outer coverings and is lusting after what’s inside your mind.”
“I’ll give him a piece of my mind!” Annie said, flying to her feet.
“Whoa, hold on,” Helen said. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh no? Just watch me.”
With that, she marched out the door, ignoring Helen’s pleas that she take time to think things through before acting. Annie didn’t need time. She needed to speak her mind.
And so she charged down Milwaukee Avenue the two blocks to the alderman’s storefront office.
“Is he in?” she asked the dark-haired young woman at the front desk, who glanced down at her appointment calendar.
“And you would be?”
“An angry constituent.” She maneuvered past the reception desk.
The young woman yelled after her, “Hey, you can’t go in there!”
“Watch me!” Annie said, throwing open the door and crossing the room to face down her archenemy.
Zavadinski was smiling—smiling!—as if he’d been waiting for her.
“How can I help you, Miss Wilder?”
“You can stop dishing out this trash!” She slammed down the flyer on his desk.
“Oh, I don’t need one of those. I’ve already seen it.”
“I’m sure. Did you have these made up yourself or did you get one of your flunkies to do your dirty work?”
“I’m not the one doing the dirty work, Miss Wilder. I believe that’s your specialty.”
Annie wanted to hit him. Or at least throw something. She stood there trembling with fury, feeling vindicated and yet foolish. Helen had been right. She should have thought twice before confronting the bastard. What good had it done? Even the element of surprise hadn’t gotten him to confess.
He was playing with her, she thought.
“Two can play at this game, Alderman. You go ahead and ruin my business and I’ll have so much time on my hands that I might have to get involved in the upcoming campaign…making sure that you lose the election!”
His silver-threaded brows drew together and his round face grew ruddier than usual. “Is that a threat?”
“Call it a warning. Don’t mess with me. You don’t know who I know.”
With that she spun around and marched out of his office without looking back.
Who she knew, indeed!
Gloria’s cousin Julio, perhaps? Or maybe Nate’s mobster client. Neither of whom she would consider consulting, of course.
Yes, it had been a threat—a big, fat, empty one.
“I GOT THE SCOOP on Nathaniel Bishop,” Nick said later that morning, when he came downstairs to find her in her shop doing boring paperwork.
She was sitting behind her desk, and he perched on its corner. “Already? That was fast.” Her mouth went dry. “So what is it?”
“His connections with the mob go deeper than he lets on.”
“What? Please don’t tell me he’s a hit man or something.”
“Nothing that drastic. But it looks as if he’s into them for a big piece of change.”
“Gambling?”
“Real estate. This building for one.”
“He’s a front man?”
“All I know is that he didn’t get a conventional mortgage for his properties,” Nick admitted. “He got funding from private sources.”
“And you’re sure those sources are mob connected?”
“No, not sure. It’s just the talk.”
“Whose talk?”
Nick didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “Someone I trust,” and she could see that he wasn’t going to give more away.
“So what am I supposed to conclude from this information?” she asked. “That Nate is connected to the mob and therefore responsible for the scary things that have been happening to me?”
“I just want you to be careful. I love you and don’t want anything bad happening to you. I didn’t want to do this, Annie, but you pushed. And now I’m sorry I don’t have the right answers for you.”
“I did push. And now I have more to think about than I want.” She sighed. “Why is this so difficult?”
“This?”
“Life, I guess.”
A cop-out. She’d meant love, of course. But she couldn’t say the word. It was too new, too untested, and she was too uncertain. She couldn’t admit what she was feeling, certainly not to her friends, not when she didn’t want to admit it to herself.
What if Nick had stumbled onto the truth? A truth that went a lot deeper than shady financing for Cornerstone Realty?
“HI, BEAUTIFUL.”
Annie’s heart thumped at the familiar voice on the other end of the phone line. It was midafternoon and she was almost caught up with her work.
“Hi, Nate,” she murmured, putting the computer on standby.
“I’ve been thinking about you.”
Though she wanted to ask why he hadn’t called earlier, she bit her tongue lest she sound too eager. “Me, too,” she said lightly. “I mean, I was thinking about you.”
Only not all good thoughts, after what Nick had told her. She’d been in a spin off and on ever since.
“Can I see you tonight?”
Could he? Should she? Doubts warred with what she wanted. Yet Nick hadn’t had anything concrete. Only rumors. And what if they’d been on the money? That didn’t necessarily mean Nate had done anything illegal. That didn’t make him a bad person.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked cautiously.
“I thought you might like to check out Nick’s video at Club Undercover.”
Figuring Nick might even be there, that seemed like a safe enough date. If she wanted safe.
“Dance music doesn’t start till late,” she warned him. “Are you sure you don’t need to be up bright and early in the morning again?”
“I’ll take a power nap,” he said. “I promise not to run out on you early tonight.”
That sounded like a loaded promise to her.
“I’ll pick you up at home at nine. And Annie…”
“Mmm?”
“Don’t wear any underwear tonight.”
With that, Nate hung up, leaving Annie a little startled and a lot more titillated.
Did she dare?
Done with her paperwork, she decided the display window was next.
She’d played out this scenario. So she gathered a gauzy swath of material to hang across the window. The see-through cloth would partially camouflage it rather than close it off altogether. Butcher paper would be more opaque, but it was too utilitarian. Annie wanted sexy. She wanted customers to wonder what in the world she intended to do with the new display. She wanted them to salivate, and then when they saw the merchandise, to buy, buy, buy.
The only problem was that she hadn’t yet decided what exactly she wanted to do with the new display.
Her being harassed by Zavadinski and his goons made her want to make this new window even hotter than the last. She would have to think about it a bit more.
Hot, hot, hot….
As she worked, her mind wandered back to Nate and his plans for her. Don’t wear any underwear tonight. Did he intend to “do her” on the dance floor in the middle of a crowd? Though she had to draw the line somewhere, she couldn’t help but fantasize a little….
They danced in a frenzy until their bodies were covered in sweat. Then the lights dimmed and the music slowed and they were in each other’s arms, in a world of their own.
Subtly, he worked his clothing free and lifted the front of her skirt. They were so close together, no one could tell what was going on.
But she could. She felt his erection. Felt his tip probe between her folds. Sh
e melted inside, wet him with her passion.
When she couldn’t stand it any longer, he danced her into the shadows, into the darkest corner, from which they could see everything but no one could really see them. He lifted her so that she was balanced back against a table.
And then he entered her, and within a matter of seconds, made her come.
Annie snapped out of the fantasy with a start and tended to the material she was in the middle of hanging. Of course, she would never do such a thing. Nor would Nate, she was certain. Or was she?
No matter what Nick had told her, she couldn’t wait to see the man who inspired her fantasies.
Just then she looked up to see someone standing outside the shop. When she realized it was Clive Hardy, her skin crawled. His last purchase had been only days ago, and here he was back again. And he was pressed to the windowpane, staring at her through the gauzy material….
He pointed first to her, then to the door, as if he expected her to open it for him.
Annie’s throat tightened. She indicated the Closed sign in the corner of the window.
He shook his head and pointed to the door again. He was insisting she let him in.
He might be her best customer, but he made her too uncomfortable to want to be alone with him. She shook her head.
Expression furious, he thumped his fist against the pane, making her jump back.
Her temper flared.
She shot to the door and unlocked it, but didn’t open it more than she had to. He was there in an instant, practically in her face. And he shoved his foot between the door and the jamb so she couldn’t close it if she wanted to. She shoved her own foot on the other side.
“Mr. Hardy, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to get in to make my purchases, of course.” He gave the door a push, but she held it fast.
“We’re not open today, as you can see by the sign.”
“Signs are for other people.”
“No, signs are for you, too.”
“You mean you’re not going to let me in?” he asked in a whiny, demanding tone.
“I am not.”
“But I need to come in. Now. Leslie has to have more of your lingerie. And we could use some of those toys you sell. I’m sure you could recommend something I…she would like.”
Annie’s skin crawled, but she forced a polite smile. “I’m not open for business. Period. Not even to you.” Especially not to him. “Please come back tomorrow.”
He stared at her for a moment and his lips thinned. In a low voice that reminded her of the one on the phone the other night, he said, “You’ll be sorry, Annie.”
You can’t hide from me….
Her heart thundered as she watched him stomp away.
As she tried to work on the window, Clive Hardy’s warning echoed in her head over and over. What would he do to make her sorry? she wondered. Or what would he do next?
She simply couldn’t concentrate. Finally, she gave up and called it a day.
Before going home, she returned some supplies to the building’s janitor closet, then washed up there, as she usually did after working on displays.
Standing next to the sink, Annie looked down to find a short stack of magazines sitting on a pile of boxes. Girlie magazines. She wondered who had left them there. As freethinking as she was, she’d never liked the idea of these rags, at least not the hard-core kind.
The top one was open to the centerfold. A young woman with long dark hair posed in see-through lingerie, with her legs spread and her fingers…
Reminded of the photo someone had taken of her in a similar position, Annie flushed with embarrassment. Not wanting to think further about the magazines or their possible owner, she turned on the water.
One of the other tenants was certainly being noisy. Even over the stream of water, she heard the person clunking around nearby. She soaped her hands, shut out the sounds and thought about Nate and what she should wear for him tonight. It had to be something delicious, and she knew exactly the dress that would do it for him.
Caught up in anticipation, she wasn’t prepared for a sudden boom behind her. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she whirled around to find the door had slammed shut.
That was enough to scare the bejesus out of anyone, Annie thought, quickly drying her hands on a paper towel and stepping over to the door.
Which wouldn’t open.
The doorknob turned, but nothing happened. As far as she knew, the door couldn’t actually lock trapping someone inside. Thinking her hands must be too damp to get a good grip and turn the knob fully, she wiped them on her jeans and tried again.
The knob turned easily, but nothing happened.
Somehow, Annie realized, the door had locked shut behind her.
11
“JUST GREAT!”
At least other people were in the building, this being rush hour on a Monday. And at least one person was close by, from all indications. No need to panic. She banged on the door.
“Hello? Anyone out there? I’m stuck!”
If she thought someone was going to come to her rescue, she had another think coming. Whoever had been banging around in back had obviously left. Annie pounded until her hands were sore, called out until her voice was raw. The small enclosed room had grown stuffy and hot. Sweat was running down her neck and back.
Taking a break to ease her discomfort, she ran the cold water, wet her arms and neck and took a drink from a cupped hand. Then she looked around for something that might help get her out of her predicament. Too bad she didn’t have a cell phone, she thought, or she could call Nick or Helen to come back here and release her. But she was creative, and this was a janitor’s closet, after all.
A shelf revealed a box of tools, including several screwdrivers and a pair of pliers. Giving the door a long, hard look, she knew what she had to do.
It was only when she had the bottom hinge half off that it occurred to her the door slamming shut might not have been an accident. What if someone had closed it purposely, to trap her inside?
She tried to shake away the notion, but as she got the first hinge apart, the idea took seed.
Why would someone do it? What would he have to gain?
He? Her stalker?
Licking her lips, Annie stood in indecision for a moment.
What if he was still there, waiting? But for what? If he’d planned on doing something to her, surely he wouldn’t have locked her inside the room by herself. He would have attacked her.
Unless the point was to scare her, a little voice in her head contributed.
He’d certainly succeeded in doing that. And whoever this guy was, he was a coward, hiding in shadows, behind camera lenses and telephones.
Clive Hardy? She would bet that was his style, and he’d warned her that she would be sorry…
It could be Hardy. He could have gotten back here through one of the businesses—maybe Helen’s Cybercafé. Or he might have found the alley door unlocked or ajar. Sometimes tenants left and didn’t secure it properly. Yeah, Annie could imagine the whiny client sneaking around back and waiting for his opportunity to do mischief.
Deciding she wouldn’t let a coward stop her, she attacked the second hinge with a vengeance and soon had it free. Then, wedging two large screwdrivers between the door and the jamb, she pried open the door enough to see a bit of the area on the other side. If anyone was there she couldn’t see him.
Annie struggled with the door—it was metal and heavy. She might be small, but she was tough, she told herself, inching it open.
“If you’re still there, you bastard, you’d better run before I get out of here,” she warned, “or I’ll make mincemeat out of you!”
“Then maybe I’d better not help you,” a deep voice answered from the other side.
Annie froze. That wasn’t Clive Hardy. That was—
“That you, Miss Wilder?” Harry Burdock poked his head in the opening, then took over and had the door freed in a minute. “
What the heck happened here?”
Heart pounding, she backed up fast. “I got locked in,” she said, waiting to see his reaction. Surely a security guard would know that shouldn’t have been possible. But Burdock didn’t comment.
“Good thing I came along when I did then.”
“Right.”
He set the door next to the sink. “You okay?”
“Fine. Thank you.”
The stack of magazines caught his eye. He picked up the spread and looked from it to her and then back again. “You kinda look like her, you know?”
Eeow! Surely whoever had been admiring the centerfold hadn’t had her in mind. She gave the security guard a closer look and swore he was leering at her. Was that his magazine? Had he left that centerfold purposely for her to find?
When she edged toward the door, he didn’t try to stop her. “Got to go,” she muttered.
He grinned from ear to ear and focused his attention back on the magazine. “You have a good night, now.”
That’s what she’d been hoping for, but now the night felt as if it might be fraught with unknown dangers.
She hailed a taxi and spent the entire ride staring out the back window, but no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t see anyone following.
Even a long soak in her tub, with Rock looking on from the sink like a furry vulture, didn’t wash away the uneasy sensations stirred up by the janitor closet incident.
Clive Hardy. Was he the one? Her stalker?
What about Harry Burdock?—was so convenient that he’d been on the spot to “rescue” her. And the way he’d leered at her with that magazine in hand had tied her stomach in knots.
Not that it hadn’t already been in knots from her face-to-face encounter with Vincent Zavadinski that morning, although she didn’t suspect the alderman of more than trying to destroy her business. But hadn’t that been enough for one day?
She discussed the possible stalkers with Rock but, as usual, the cat didn’t seem to have an opinion. At least he was out and about and acting normal, which was more than she could say for the way she was feeling.
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