by D. Morrissey
“Here we go,” she says, plopping our menus down on a table near the back. She looks at Danny, avoiding me altogether, and rubbing her hand gently across his back. “Bryce will be over in a minute to take your order. I hope you enjoy your meal.” Which, to me, sounds more like blah, blah, yada, yada, I hope you’ll come over later and fuck me into a coma. I sigh, finally deciding that I’m not jealous, mad or upset, just severely disappointed that my Prince Charming has once again turned into a big, fat, fucking frog.
“Thank you.” He smiles, winking once more as she finally leaves us. He sits, motioning for me to take the seat across from him as I smile and fantasize that I’m plucking out his eyelashes one by one with a pair of rusty tweezers.
Chapter Nine
Holding the menu like a shield, I stare at it, not really reading it, but trying to figure out when exactly I turned sour on this guy, or whether I’m just being too critical. I mean, I barely even know him. Why should I care if he flirts with the entire female population of Little Rock? Should I let that interfere with a night of promising sex?
My purse suddenly starts vibrating, bringing me out of my latest reverie, and I reach in my hand to fish out my phone. It’s Misty. I dismiss the call and put my phone down on the table.
“Anything important?”
I smile. “No. It’s just a friend of mine. I’ll call her back later.”
A woman’s hearty laugh at the table next to us distracts me and I glance over. A few men are seated around the table with their drinks, laughing and chuckling and picking at some chips. Only one woman sits with them, and she is totally captivating with her dark black bob, heavy make-up, and off-the-shoulder sequined top. She throws her head back and howls again as her hand clings to the man seated next to her.
My forehead furrows as I study him. He looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him. Maybe if I could see his entire face, but I can only see his profile from where I’m seated. I’m sure I know him, though.
“Everything good?” Danny peers at me over the top of his menu. Oh, he’s talking to me again?
“Yes. Fine.” I smile, crinkling my nose at him.
We sit quietly for a while studying our menus. I look for something that I can eat fast, not so I can get him home and rip his clothes off anymore. That moment has passed. Instead, I really just want this date to be over.
Soon, Bryce lands at our table to see what we’d like to drink, and Danny looks at me attentively.
“Just a white wine for me.”
Danny nods. “And, bring me a Jim Beam, neat.”
Bryce smiles politely. “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” he says and turns to prance away.
“Oh!” Danny leans over into the aisle, waving and snapping his fingers. “You! Boy!”
Surprised, Bryce stops and looks back at us. “Bring me some water, too.”
What a dick! I shrink, trying to disappear under our booth as I glance at the table beside us, hoping they didn’t actually hear that.
“They’re kind of loud.” Danny nods at the table beside us. “Is it bothering you?”
“No. I just…” I glance over at the familiar man again, worried that Danny might try to arrest him for laughing without a license or something.
“What?” He looks at me expectantly, almost anxiously.
I pause and then shake my head. “Nothing. I just think I know that guy over there. But I can’t place him.”
Danny glances over at the table. Then he stares at me as if he’s trying to figure something out or ask me a difficult question. It makes me self-conscious and I fidget, swiping at my nose. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No. I just can’t get over how pretty you are.” Whatever. I snort-chuckle on reflex. “I think we need to eat quickly and get out of here.”
I smile. My thoughts exactly. Well, almost exactly.
Had he said this to me an hour ago, I probably would have stood up and asked for the check, my stomach be damned. But now, after the homeless guy, the perky parking lot tramp, the horny hostess, and the waiter abuse, I’m just not feeling it anymore. No butterflies, at least not the good kind, no tingling in my nether regions, and no pre-coital jitters. Nope, nothing.
Bryce returns promptly with our drinks and I’m impressed that he doesn’t throw Danny’s in his face. I settle on a Caesar salad, which I figure I can get fast since it doesn’t require any cooking. But my plan goes down the toilet when Danny orders a steak, complete with all the trimmings.
Half-way through the meal, I glance up from my salad, sure that I see him passing looks to the table beside us. Did he just nod? I look over at the table and the familiar looking man drops his head and turns away quickly.
“Do you know him?” I ask, jabbing my fork in the man’s direction.
“Um…no.” He chuckles nervously. “I was just looking at that woman’s shirt. It’s awfully sparkly.”
“Yes, it is,” I agree, noting that it wouldn’t be strange at all for him to be playing kissy face with another woman while he’s having dinner with me. But still, I doubt that he’s telling the truth. I know he nodded at that man.
Finishing our meals with almost perfectly timed precision, we stand up to leave at the same time as the other table. Danny positions himself like a widget between us, his hand on my back again, ushering me out in front of him.
“Oh! Wait!” I yelp, turning around suddenly and wheedling myself around him. “I forgot my pho—” I stop short, getting my first full view of the familiar man. Realization hits me like a sledgehammer.
It’s him! I know it is. And, the bandage and the bruising that I can see clearly now on the side of his face confirms what I already know. He stares back at me defiantly for a moment and then pulls the sequined woman along past us. He seems to give Danny a knowing glance, and my heart skips a beat, stricken with another awful realization. They know each other!
In shock, I walk slowly back to our table, trying to decide what I should do. Maybe they didn’t notice? Maybe I’m imagining stuff again?
“Um…here it is. I got it.” I hold up my phone for Danny to see and I give it a little shake. “I’d be lost without this.” I laugh nervously.
“Well, then. I’m glad we didn’t forget it,” he says without smiling. “Let’s get out of here.”
I let him lead me back toward the exit, all the while my mind racing, trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. Surely, I should just tell Danny that I recognized the man and let him sort this out. But something inside me tells me that would be a mistake.
“I hope y’all enjoyed your meal,” Amber drones as we reach the exit. “Take care.”
“Night,” Danny says, not even slowing to wink now.
Outside, the temperature has dropped even more and it’s downright cold. I shiver, partly because I’m scared and partly because I left my jacket in Danny’s car.
“So, did you ever figure out if you knew that guy?” he asks innocently as we near the car.
“Um…what guy?” I play dumb, which is usually not much of an effort for me, but seems really difficult tonight for some reason. “Oh! Him. No. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Now, Sweetheart. We talked about this,” he says softly. “You have a really bad poker face. Remember?”
I freeze, staring at him, trying to figure out exactly how much danger I’m in, and Who the hell are you, Danny Logan?
“Just go get in the car, Ellie,” he says calmly as he grabs my arm and pushes me in front of him.
I do as I’m told, trying to walk slowly as we head back to the car, looking for the slightest opportunity to bolt, when I hear a loud thud. Suddenly, Danny tackles me and I go down hard on the pavement, the second time in two days, with his full weight resting on top of me.
“Get the fuck off me!” I struggle against him, thrashing and kicking and punching until I’m finally free, and then I notice that he’s not moving. I stare at him, confused. Did I knock him out?<
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From behind me, two strong arms quickly hoist me to my feet before I have time to figure out what just happened.
“Come on. Let’s go.” I spin around to see Callum Stone, by himself, panicked and looking around nervously. I back away, shaking my head.
He’s helping Danny! I back away, scanning the parking lot for the man I now know is the killer, looking for someone to help me.
“Get away from me, Asshole!” I shout at Cal, throwing my fists up as if we were in a boxing match.
He looks at me as though I’m ridiculous, and then reaches out and grabs my arm, yanking me toward him. “Ellie, stop. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m trying to help you. Now, hurry. Climb in!” I knew that was his truck!
He opens the door to the driver’s side of his truck and I don’t have time to even think straight. I step up to get in, wondering if he thinks I’m going to drive us somewhere, when I feel his hands on my ass. He gives me a hard shove so that I bounce over the console, and land backward in the passenger seat. He crawls in behind me and wastes no time getting us out of there. We peel out onto the highway while I’m still struggling to find my safety belt.
We ride in silence for several minutes, with him weaving in and out of traffic like a maniac and glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds, and me wondering whether he’s going to shoot me or chop me into little pieces and bury me with the lady from the club or both. Finally, he sighs and settles back into his seat.
I look at him now, his eyes secure on the road in front of us, and I study him beginning with his hair. It’s messy, as usual, but it seems…naturally messy. And, neat at the same time. It’s a naturally organized mess, just like the rest of him. Against the dim lights of the highway, it looks almost raven black, which suits his dark complexion rather well. Yes, he’s beautiful, all right. There’s no denying it. I can go to my grave knowing that my killer is a hot, handsome, hitman from hell.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask, finally breaking the long silence.
“Do to you?” he asks surprised, like he’s forgotten that I’m here.
He reaches toward me and I lean away from him, still looking him in the eye.
“Ellie, I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises, reaching forward and taking my chin between his thumb and finger, and turning my face first to the left and then to the right so he can inspect me.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Good. You’re safe now,” he says, letting go of my face and grabbing my hand. He squeezes it and I gasp, jerking it away.
“No, you aren’t fine. You’re hurt,” he says almost angrily.
I look down at my palms and find they’re scraped from the pavement, but they sting like fire. I hold them out so he can see them, too. “Just a few scrapes. Nothing major.”
He looks at me warily. “I guess it could be worse. At least you have jeans on.”
Well, he’s an optimistic bastard. “Yes, that’s lucky, I guess.”
“It’s a lot better than that blue dress, anyway,” he says without a thought. “Your knees would be all torn up.”
I can’t immediately put my finger on the reason why his statement freaks me out. I sit there, frowning, pondering, and then it hits me. A dozen questions pour out at once. “Whoa! What? How did you…who? Hang on.” I shake my head, trying to figure out how the hell he could possibly know I was wearing a blue dress when Danny showed up for our date tonight. I’m very near my boiling point with all this craziness.
“Oh, shit,” he whispers.
“Yes! Shit!” I yell back. “What the hell is going on, Cal?” I pause. “Is that even your real name? Cal?”
“Yes, my name is Cal.” He sounds amused and now that I know he doesn’t plan to kill me, I find it very irritating. “Look,” he says, seriously. “I know you have a lot of questions. And, I will explain, I promise. But do we really have to do this here? Now?”
“Why not?” I’m really pissed off now. “I mean, I go out on a Friday night for a few innocent drinks with my friends, and the next thing I know, I keep getting thrown on the ground and threatened and now I’m bouncing back and forth between Ethan Hunt and James Bond back there.”
“So, I guess in this scenario, I’m Ethan Hunt? I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He chuckles.
“Well, I’m glad you find me entertaining, Mr. Stone. Perhaps, you can entertain me for a change and tell me what just happened back there?”
“I warned you,” he says, shaking his head.
“Warned me? Warned me about what? When did you warn me?”
“Every time I saw you! I told you to be careful who you speak to and what you say. And I also told you to trust no one. But you didn’t listen.”
“What?” I am livid. “That’s not a warning, Cal. That’s a fortune cookie! ‘Ellie, watch out for Detective Logan because he’ll try to murder you and stuff your body in a drain pipe.’ That’s a warning!”
He grins, and then sighs, as if I’m the one who’s being obtuse here. “Ellie, just calm down.”
Kablam! My head explodes and I almost punch him in the face. But we’re doing ninety miles an hour on the freeway, and I’ve already decided that I don’t want to die tonight. I take a deep breath, tugging on my safety belt just to make sure it’s securely fastened in the event I fail to restrain myself. Then I look at him again.
“Do. not. tell. me. to. calm. down.” I say through gritted teeth, my patience obviously tested to their limits.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he corrects himself, still amused at my expense. “I was hoping we could talk when we get to my place. But I can see you aren’t going to let it go that long.”
“Spill the beans, mister.” I nod. Wait…did he say his place? “Wait. ‘Your’ place? Why are we going to your place?”
“I don’t have another place ready for you. I just didn’t expect things to happen this fast.” He sounds as though he’s trying to justify something to himself, as well.
“Well, here’s a thought…take me home!” I point behind me, unsure whether it’s really the right direction or not.
“I can’t. That’s the first place they’ll look for you.”
“Then take me to my aunt’s house.”
“That’s the second place they’ll go.”
“But that’s even more reason,” I argue. “What if they hurt my aunt or my uncle? I need to go warn them.”
He shakes his head. “They won’t. They won’t risk losing you in case you decide to show up there.”
I think for a second. “I can stay with my friends.”
“No, you can’t. Rachael’s and Misty’s address is on the police form you filled out. They’ll be watching their house, too.” He looks at me with what I think might be something akin to pity. “I’m afraid you don’t have any choice. You’re stuck with me, at least for tonight.”
I think about suggesting a hotel, but I’m sure he’ll just shoot that idea down, too. So, I give up and go back to my initial line of questioning.
“Whatever. Now, tell me what happened back there.”
“You saw what happened. Detective Logan took you to a restaurant where he knew Everett would be so they could find out whether you recognized him. And, clearly, you did.”
“Who’s Everett?”
“Casey Everett. His boss.”
I scratch my head. “I thought Danny was a cop?”
He looks at me again, his eyes beady like he has something to say. But then he looks back at the road. “Everett is ‘the boss’. He runs the Iron Horse, and several other questionable establishments around Little Rock and Hot Springs. He’s the man you clubbed in the head last night.”
“Okay,” I muse. “And, who was the woman I saw him kill?”
“We think she was Lou, Louise Baumgarten. She was one of the prostitutes at Everett’s Hot Springs facilities. It looks like she was working with Logan on a job.”
“Prostitu
te? Working with Danny?” I mumble. “Wait. I’m still not connecting all the dots here.” I look at him, frustrated. “What is Everett to Danny? Why didn’t he just show me his picture at the station and then go and arrest him? And, why would he be working with a prostitute?”
“You’re right. You’re not connecting the dots. Are you really this innocent?” He looks at me again, his eyes narrowed into slits again. “Or, are you just really naive?”
His condescending attitude grates on me. “Well, let’s just pretend that I’m stupid as hell for now. And, you tell me in plain English what any of this has to do with me. And, while you’re at it, why don’t you start with why you’re involved, for that matter?”
He sighs. “Well, I don’t believe for a minute that you’re stupid. But that aside, I can only tell you that I work for the Attorney General’s office. And, honestly, I’m not even sure I should be telling you that much.”
Chapter Ten
I’m suddenly rendered dizzy by his admission. “So, you don’t work for Dona-who International, then?” I shake my head slowly.
“Dona-hue,” he corrects me. “And, no, not really.”
“And, they don’t actually own the Iron Horse.” I shake my head again.
“No, they really are investors in the Iron Horse, and I really do work there as a cover. But Casey Everett actually runs the Iron Horse. My primary interest in all of this is Detective Daniel Logan.”
I nod, staring, my eyes big as saucers. He really is Ethan Hunt.
“So, what is Danny’s relationship with this guy?” I ask, not quite sure I want to know at this point.
“Well, that’s a longer story that we’re going to have to save for later. We’re out of time right now.” We pull onto a dark, gravel road and ride a few minutes in silence, bumping and jostling, until we hit a long stretch of smooth driveway.
“We’re here,” he says, as we come to a stop in front of a nice-sized cabin in the middle of the woods. He turns off the key and the interior light pops on. I squint, trying to get a good look at my friendly kidnapper in the light. He is definitely hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch!