by Lynsay Sands
"Jill is a jewel," Jane breathed. "Be right back." She left Gran watching Judge Judy and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Stepping inside and closing the door, Jane realized she still carried her briefcase. She rolled her eyes at herself. Setting the case on the bathroom counter beside the sink, she began to dig things out of the pockets of her business jacket: a small screwdriver, a pencil stub, a pen, Kleenex, a wad of plastic wrap from her lunch. Lipschitz's lipstick was the last thing she found. Frowning at the plain silver tube, she snapped her briefcase open and dropped the lipstick inside. She had to remember to take it back to the office on Monday.
Done emptying her pockets, Jane quickly stripped out of the rest of her clothes, tugged the elastic band out of her hair, then went to turn on the shower. She adjusted the water and stepped under the spray with a sigh. Simply standing under the pulsing stream, Jane enjoyed its pounding on her skin for several moments. At last she grabbed the shampoo and soap.
Ten minutes later, she was turning the water off and grabbing a couple of towels from the rack. Jane wrapped the first around her long hair, turban-style, then quickly dried off with the second. It was when she stepped out onto the floor mat that she realized she hadn't grabbed anything to change into.
Wrapping the towel she'd used to dry off with around herself, Jane snatched up her dirty clothes and turned toward the door. Unfortunately, her jacket caught the edge of the open briefcase and sent it crashing to the floor. Its contents scattered across the bathroom's marble tiles.
Jane stared in dismay at the mess she'd made as one of her trackers rolled to a halt at her feet. The silver case that had held them had snapped open on impact. There were only two left in the case, the others were strewn across the floor.
Jane bent to begin picking them up, but a moment later decided against it. She was naked, cold, and hungry. The mess could wait.
Leaving the steamy bathroom, she hurried to her room and dropped her towel. She dug a pair of clean joggers and a sweatshirt out of the drawer, then pulled on the pants.
"Jane?"
"Coming, Gran!" Jane called. She dragged the sweatshirt over her head, pulling it into place and hurrying along the hall to the living room. "Is something wrong?"
"Tinkle needs to go out, dear."
Jane's eyes dropped to the dog with resignation. The animal was whimpering and circling in Gran's lap: a sure signal she had to relieve herself.
"I don't know what is the matter with the silly animal," Gran fretted. "Jill took her out to do her business just an hour ago. I hope she hasn't got a bladder infection."
"I'm sure she's fine, Gran," Jane said. She sighed. To be honest, she suspected the little dog really didn't have to go out at all. The little beast just wanted to annoy her. Tinkle seemed to have the uncanny knack of "having to go out" whenever Jane was in the shower or busy doing something important. The beast might look adorable with its long white hair and pink bow, but Jane was positive that cute exterior hid an evil soul.
She couldn't say anything to Gran, of course. The woman adored "her little Tinkle." The dog was an angel in her eyes. Of course, it did behave well around her for the most part. Tinkle saved misbehaving for when she was out with Jill or Jane.
"Poor baby," Gran crooned as the dog's whimpers increased in volume. She turned apologetic eyes to Jane. "Could you, dear?"
"Of course, Gran. I'll just get the leash."
"Thank you."
Jane detoured through the kitchen to turn the oven on, then grabbed Tinkle's leash from the hall. She took it out to her gran, who put it on the small dog. Jane then scooped Tinkle up, making sure her hands were nowhere near the animal's mouth where she was likely to get bit. Carrying the beast into the kitchen, she set it on the floor and hooked the leash to the doorknob. Going to the fridge, she retrieved the lasagna Jill had made.
"What are you doing, dear?" Gran called when Tinkle's whining grew in protest at the delay.
"Just popping the lasagna in, Gran. That way it'll be ready when we get back." Removing the plastic wrap Jill had covered the pasta with, Jane matched action to words: she slid the dish into the oven.
"There. All done. We'll be right back," she announced, then stuck her tongue out at the dog. Unhooking the leash from the doorknob, she followed the little monster to the apartment door. As she pulled it open, however, Jane found her neighbor Edie Andretti standing on the threshold, hand upraised to knock.
"Oh, Jane! I have a big date tonight and I was just coming over to see if I could borrow--"
"Is that Edie?" Gran's voice interrupted from the living room.
"Yes, Gran," Jane called, scowling at Tinkle. The dog had begun running around in circles, binding Jane up in its leash.
"Come on in, Edie dear, Jane will be back in a minute." Gran called. "You can keep me company."
"Oh, I can't stay long, Mrs. S.," Edie replied. She stepped past Jane into the apartment. "I have a date. In fact, he's picking me up in ten minutes. I was just going to borrow a couple of things from Jane."
"Oh, my!" Maggie Spyrus called. "A hot date is it, Edie dear? And on a Thursday night? You must come tell me all about it."
"Okay," the younger woman agreed. She turned back to Jane. "Can I--"
"Borrow whatever you want. You know where everything is," Jane answered, distracted trying to untangle herself from Tinkle's leash. Finally managing, she started out the door--only to halt abruptly as her head was suddenly jerked backward. Glancing around with a start, she saw Edie grinning at her, a damp towel dangling from the woman's hand.
"Damn," Jane growled. She'd forgotten all about it. Reaching up, she slicked the tangled mass of her wet hair back with her fingers, hoping that made it at least a touch less disreputable. "Go on in. I'll be back as quick as I can. If you have to leave before I return, borrow what you need and go. But I expect to hear all the details of the date tomorrow."
"You will." Edie grinned and closed the door behind her.
"Come on, Tinkle," Jane said glumly, heading for the elevator. She wasn't at all surprised when the beast decided it didn't want to walk and sat down in the hall to whine. Sighing, Jane picked up the Yorkie and carried her to the elevator. This was a sure sign that Jane wasn't going to get back before Edie had to leave. She suspected she'd be lucky to get back before the lasagna burned.
------
As she'd expected, Edie had already left when Jane returned. The lasagna had been in the oven longer than the recommended fifteen minutes, but it was still edible. Jane and her gran ate, then watched an old James Bond flick. It was eleven before the show ended and Jane saw to settling Gran and Tinkle in bed.
Quite ready for bed herself by then, Jane made her way to her bathroom, pausing at the sight of her briefcase sitting on the counter with its contents replaced neatly inside. Hadn't she knocked it to the floor and left it to clean up later.
Stepping forward, Jane peered inside. Edie had obviously taken the time to put everything back for her. Which was very nice, but Jane had to wonder why Edie had even been in the bathroom. Her neighbor was a good friend, but generally she borrowed clothes or jewelry rather than anything out of the bathroom. Well, really she tended to borrow mostly jewelry. Jane didn't have that great a wardrobe; it was made up mostly of a combo of business clothes and sweatsuits, and it was sadly lacking in the sexy slinky-type clothes one might want for a date. In any case, whatever clothes and jewelry Edie may have been interested in, they certainly wouldn't have been found in the bathroom.
Jane scanned the contents of her briefcase again. Everything seemed to be there; the BMML, the launched BMML, the shrink wrap condoms. Jane counted those, terrified for a brief moment that the girl might have borrowed one. Wouldn't that have made for an interesting date? she thought ruefully. However, all of the little foil packets were present and accounted for. Even the knockout lipstick remained. She breathed another grateful sigh.
Shrugging, Jane started to close the briefcase, then paused as she realized what was missing. There
was only one silver case of personal trackers--the lubricated ones, she saw upon snapping open the container. Setting it on the counter, she quickly shifted through the contents of her briefcase just to be sure.
No, the pack of absorbent tampon trackers wasn't there.
Jane raised her head to peer at herself in the mirror, only then noticing the Post-it stuck to the glass. It was orange and obviously from the pad in her briefcase.
Dear Jane,
Borrowed some tampons. Hope you don't mind, but took the case. Knew you wouldn't need them since you borrowed my last ones last week. Will return the case and spares tomorrow when I fill you in on my date!
Toodles, Edie
Jane groaned, then started to laugh. This was her own fault, of course. She'd left the contents of her briefcase lying around rather than putting them in her workroom. She had also told Edie she could borrow anything.
She tried to cheer herself. At least with the trackers there wouldn't be any of the calamities that might have occurred had Edie borrowed the lipstick or the condoms. But damn those had been some expensive tampons, and her friend would never even know.
Jane briefly considered tracking Edie and getting a free test-run out of the deal, but she pushed the thought aside. She couldn't take advantage of her friend that way. She would just have to call them a loss.
Shaking her head, Jane picked up her briefcase and took it to her workroom. She would have to be more careful in the future. She knew better than to leave things lying around! Wasn't that one of the first things they taught you at B.L.I.S.S?
"At least she took the absorbent ones," Jane muttered as she closed the door of her workroom.
Chapter Three
"Here you go, buddy." The cabbie shifted into park, then turned in his seat to add, "That'll be twenty-two twenty-five."
Abel Andretti glanced sharply at the fare listed on the digital monitor on the dashboard. The guy wasn't kidding. The fare from the airport to his sister's apartment was $22.25. Amazing. Horrifying. What a rip-off! Shaking his head, he handed the cabbie two twenties.
"You want change?" the cabbie asked as he snatched the bills.
"Yes," Abel said through his teeth. He wasn't in the best of moods at the moment. Not that he'd have dropped the cabbie an almost eighteen-dollar tip anyway. The man had been grouching all the way from the airport about traffic and taxes and whatnot while Abel had sat fretting over his sister, Edie.
His gaze slid to the pleasant Victorian-style building. It was just the sort of place Edie would pick. But it wasn't like her not to meet him at the airport as arranged. Concern drew his eyebrows together. Why hadn't she shown up? Edie wasn't the sort just to blow off a responsibility like that.
His stomach growled and he glanced at his watch. It read 8:44 P.M.--but that was London time. He hadn't changed it yet. By his estimation, it was 12:44 in the afternoon here in British Columbia. Lunchtime. But it was well past dinner in Britain, and he hadn't eaten the food provided on the plane. He'd expected he and Edie to stop for lunch after she picked him up. He hoped she was home, or arrived soon so they could eat.
"Here ya go." The cabbie's grin was evil as he dumped seventeen loonies and three quarters into Abel's hand. "Have a nice day."
Abel's answer was a grunt. He pushed the door open and dragged himself and his overnight bag and small suitcase out of the backseat. He had barely gained his feet when the taxi roared off, its door closing from momentum alone.
Shifting the strap of his overnight bag on his shoulder, Abel hefted his suitcase and started toward the building. A young couple exited as he stepped into the entry. They kindly held the inner door for him, so Abel bypassed the buzzer with a murmured thanks.
It was possible that Edie wasn't home, was either running late and on her way to the airport, or was on her way back after not finding him there. Abel had waited an hour and a half and made three phone calls before giving up and hailing a taxi, but it was possible his sister had mixed up the arrival time of his flight or been held up by traffic. If that was the case, he was going to find himself waiting a bit for her return.
He headed for her apartment. After sitting in airports and airplanes for more than fourteen hours, the last thing he wanted was to sit around a public lobby. But what could he do if she wasn't home? He'd wait in her hallway where he could set his cases by her door and pace off some of the stiffness in his back, legs, and butt.
Abel grimaced at the thought of more waiting, then told himself perhaps he wouldn't have to. Maybe she'd already returned. Or maybe she'd just slept in and hadn't heard the phone--though it was after lunch and Edie was an early bird. It seemed unlikely she'd be here.
With that thought in mind, he paused in front of her door and knocked. No response. He knocked again, but his heart had already sunk. There was absolutely no sound from inside the apartment. Edie wasn't here. She must be somewhere between here and the airport. Car trouble or something had undoubtedly delayed her. He was going to have to wait.
Heaving a sigh, Abel set his bags beside her door, straightened, stretched a bit, then crossed his arms and began to pace, subconsciously listening to the muffled sounds coming through the doors he passed: the garble of people talking at this one, the tinny music of a telly behind that. A scratching at the next door caught his attention and made Abel pause. The noise was followed by the whine of a dog.
"No, Tinkle!" a woman's irritated voice said, its volume and clarity suggesting she stood directly inside the door, no doubt trying to drag the dog back. "You've been out three times today already and done nothing the last two. I'm not taking you out again right now. I have work to do."
Abel felt his lips quirk at the woman's obvious annoyance. Tinkle? What a horrendous name for a dog! It brought to mind images of a furry little beast with a collar that was always jingling.
There came more scratching and another soft whine.
"No, Tinkle. You'll just have to wait. Come away from the door." The voice began to sound more pleading than stem. It also grew fainter as the speaker moved away from the door, so Abel only caught part of what she said next: "Please...Tinkle! I need...B.L.I.S.S...vibrator!"
Shocked, Abel spun and headed back to his sister's door. He couldn't have been more embarrassed had he been caught in his eavesdropping. Really, that the woman wouldn't take her dog for a walk because she wanted some bliss with her vibrator was more information than he wished to know about his sister's neighbors. More than he wanted to know about anyone! Now his mind was taking paths he'd really rather have avoided.
Shaking his head to rid it of the image of some faceless woman indulging herself while her poor mournful puppy sat nearby, yearning to go outside and lift a leg, Abel paused before his sister's door and tried it again.
It was still locked, of course. He stood before it, slowly becoming aware of a need to "lift a leg" himself.
"It's the power of suggestion," he assured himself in a mutter. "That dog just started you thinking about it. You don't really have to go."
He wasn't convincing himself. If anything, the more Abel tried to convince himself otherwise, the more he had to relieve himself. His gaze dropped to his luggage sitting by his sister's door. It caused something of a difficulty. He couldn't just leave it there in the hallway for someone to take while he went in search of the nearest restaurant or gas station. And he really didn't want to lug it all with him on his search.
He scowled at his baggage, intensely aware of a building pressure in his bladder. His gaze went to the door again; then he reached for his wallet. Edie would forgive him, he assured himself. He pulled out a credit card.
Breaking and entering looked easy in the movies: The thief produced a credit card, did a little wiggling and jiggling, and voila! Mission accomplished. It wasn't so easy in reality. After several minutes of wiggling and jiggling and just plain sawing the plastic through the narrow slot between Edie's door and the frame, Abel decided his sister must have a credit-card-proof door.
Wholly intent o
n the attempt to break into Edie's apartment, he didn't hear the door open down the hall. In fact, he didn't become aware of anyone's presence until a spreading warmth drew his attention to the back of his right pant leg. Twisting to glance down, Abel noted the dog at his back. It took his brain a moment more to process what the little white fur-ball was doing. With a shout of dismay, Abel leaped away from the little monster.
"Tinkle! Get back here! Bad doggie."
Abel wheeled around to stare. A woman stood half in the hall and half in her apartment, a dog leash dangling from her hand. It was the apartment door he'd stopped at just moments before. Apparently the dog's pitiful whining had convinced the woman to forgo her...plans, to take the mutt for its obviously much needed walk. However, most of Abel's sympathy for the dog had been washed away. He now suspected he knew why the little beast was called Tinkle, and it had nothing to do with bells.
Abel craned his neck, trying to get a look at the stain on the back of his pant leg, then glared at the woman belatedly kneeling to put a leash on her dog. She seemed unaffected by his ire, and not the least apologetic. In fact, she was watching him with a wariness that both gave him pause and made him wonder how long she'd stood in the doorway. Had she seen him trying to break into his sister's apartment? Abel nervously palmed his credit card and tried not to look like a criminal.
"Hi." He tried for a cheerful tone, but his heart sank when the woman eyed him narrowly.
"Can I help you?" she asked. Her tone was strong and cold. It didn't at all fit the slim young woman in jeans and pink T-shirt. With her long red-brown hair in a ponytail, and no makeup on her piquant face, she looked like a teenager. She wasn't at all what he'd imagined when he'd pictured...
Producing a smile tinged with chagrin, he stepped forward. "I was just..." He waved vaguely toward his sister's door, only to pause when the young woman took a cautious step backward, pulling her dog with her. He supposed it was smart of her to keep her distance when she'd just caught him trying to break into an apartment.
"I'm Abel Andretti," he said in what he hoped were soothing tones. "My sister, Edie, lives here."
The woman didn't relax at all. She didn't look as if she believed him either. Abel wondered if she knew Edie and therefore knew that he lived in England and wouldn't normally be at his sister's door. But then, if she knew Edie well, surely she'd know that he was coming to visit; she wouldn't now be looking at him as if he were Jack the Ripper returned.