by Gina Ardito
“You’d better get down here fast. It’s bad.”
Shane scraped his fingers through his scalp in an attempt to rouse his senses. “Down where? What’s happening?”
“I’m at the Seven Knights Motel. The place is a freakin’ inferno.”
“Fire?”
“No, Shane, disco. Of course, fire. Looks deliberately set, and no one’s seen Ms. Berros, including the desk clerk. It doesn’t look good.”
Numb. Every nerve ending stopped working at the same time. The world spun in swirls of black, and the receiver fell from his grasp. Pain, sharp as a thousand hot knives, sliced into his chest, making breathing impossible. Jesus, they’d found her. How? How was that possible? He’d been so careful. He should have stayed with her; he knew it. He should have insisted upon staying at the Seven Knights Motel—no, wait a minute! Adara didn’t go to the Seven Knights Motel.
Hope flourished in his head and heart, and he grabbed the receiver with renewed relief. “Did you say the Seven Knights Motel?”
“Yeah,” Arnie barked. “You coming or not?”
“It’s okay,” he breathed out as much to himself as to Arnie. “Adara isn’t there.”
“She isn’t? Well, where is she?”
“Tomorrow. Tell Jake I’ll fill him in tomorrow.”
Before Arnie could argue, Shane hung up. He still had to check that Adara was safe, but at the moment, someone upstairs was apparently on their side.
Chapter Sixteen
Adara lay in a strange bed, staring at a strange ceiling in the strange, darkened room. She never could get comfortable away from home. Making things worse, wild images tumbled through her brain, derailing sleep.
When she closed her eyes, she saw a poor little boy staring in horror at a pool of blood where his parents had lain. Or a blue-eyed detective, his pursed lips scant inches from hers as he pulled back to stare at her in surprise. Most disturbing of all were the images of a man with thick blond hair in a white linen suit and black shirt ala Saturday Night Fever, standing at a church altar, waiting for her while a pipe organ played a bridal march.
Darn it! Why did Ted have to ruin everything by proposing marriage? Oh, he’d always said he intended to be her groom, but to actually go through the formality of asking for her hand? What good could possibly come from such an offer? Unbidden, Terry’s reticent marriage proposal played in her mind all over again. Only this time, Terry became Ted, and the stakes grew higher.
Marry Ted? Well, sure, she’d be safe if she moved to Cyprus with him. But, marry Ted? She snorted. Talk about the groom who was prettier than the bride. Marry Ted? Okay, so he was exceptionally good looking, and totally devoted to her. But was that enough to base a marriage on?
Her mind pondered the pros and cons, checking them off on an invisible list above her head like Bob Costas calling a baseball game.
If she married Ted and moved to Cyprus, chances were good Cherry’s goons wouldn’t follow her all the way to Europe. Ball one. But she didn’t love Ted. Strike one. Maybe she’d grow to love him? Anything was possible. Ball two. Or maybe he’d grow to hate her when he realized she only married him for security. Definitely, strike two. Was she walking straight into the lion’s den by even considering such an arrangement? Foul tip. Still two balls, two strikes.
Aaargh! She punched the pillow behind her head and rolled over. This was hopeless. She’d never fall asleep tonight. Time to turn the television on and lose herself in mindless drivel.
With a quick click of the remote, streams of bright light momentary blinded her. Soon the light merged into a melange of colors and sound. Heaving an exhausted sigh, she began the inevitable channel surf. Unfortunately, her viewing choices at this hour were as appetizing as her life’s options.
Soft-core porn on the cable movie station, several different infomercials on the networks, a black and white cartoon from the fifties, and a documentary on the history of ink on the ancient world channel. Riveting stuff.
The ringing phone on the nightstand caused her to jump with a shriek. Fumbling for the receiver, she glanced at the small alarm clock near her bed. Three-thirty a.m. A little early for a phone call, wasn’t it? Who the heck could possibly be awake at this hour? Besides her and a few night watchmen?
“Hello?”
“Adara, it’s Shane.”
He didn’t have to tell her. No one else said her name with the same verve he did. Her heart raced with anticipation.
Get a grip, old girl. The man isn’t calling you in the middle of the night to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
She took a few deep breaths and sat up in the bed. “Shane? Is something wrong?”
“You tell me. You okay?”
“Me? I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m sorry to call so late. I’m just checking. The precinct experienced a little excitement earlier, and I wanted to be certain it had nothing to do with you.”
The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled in dread. “Should it?”
“Of course not.”
His answer came a little too quickly for her peace of mind. Instinctively, she knew he was lying. But why? “Are you sure I shouldn’t worry?”
“Absolutely. If you’re frightened, I could send a cruiser around.”
And catch Ted keeping watch outside her room? No way. Somehow, she knew Shane wouldn’t take his presence with the same complaisance she did. “I’m perfectly fine. Really. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“You bet. I’ll pick up a few things for breakfast before coming over. What can I get you?”
“Don’t bother. I already have everything here.”
“You do?”
Shoot! She slapped a palm against her forehead at her own stupidity. Someone should have taped her big wazoo shut ages ago. Now she’d have to lie to him to prevent him from finding out about Ted. “I took a walk to that store up the road earlier.” Wincing, she braced for his lecture on safety measures.
“Adara, that wasn’t a smart thing, and you know it. You’re supposed to keep a low profile until Cherry’s trial is over. Stay inside the room at all times. You understand?”
Simply because she understood didn’t mean she liked his advice. “It could be months before Cherry’s trial. Do you expect me to stay inside this little hotel room with nothing to do for all that time?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
She sighed. “Well, then there are a few things you could pick up for me. At my apartment.”
“Like what?”
“My laptop, for starters.”
“No dice. You can’t be online.”
“Why not?”
“Too easy for a hacker to track you down.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry, Adara. But you’ve got to keep as low a profile as possible.”
So, what the hell was she supposed to do with herself, hour after hour, day after day, week after week? “I guess that means no karate classes, either.”
“Nothing in your normal routine. Basically, you’ll be a hermit until you testify.”
Terrific. Claustrophobia threatened to engulf her. An impending need to strike out at the one man available at the moment overrode common sense. Oh, she knew it wasn’t Shane’s fault, but resentment didn’t believe in being reasonable. If she would be forced to stare at the same walls for God-knew-how-long, someone else was going to suffer a little inconvenience, too.
“Okay, then could you could bring me a deck of playing cards?”
“Absolutely.”
Excellent. He swallowed the hook. Now, to move in for the kill. “Ooh! And maybe a few romance novels? I love Jacquie Irons’s stuff.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
His voice shook with discomfort, and Adara smiled. Poor manly man, too macho to be seen buying books with flowers or bare-chested male models on the covers. Okay, so maybe it made her a meanie, but she loved to see a grown man squirm. And while she couldn’t see Shane
backpedaling right now, she could picture it in her fertile imagination. “‘Fraid not. I’ll take the new Jacquie Irons, the new Roberta Albert, and one more. I don’t remember the author, but the title is Love, Wild Through Time. It has a gold pocket watch lying on a bed of rose petals on the cover. If you’re worried about the cost, don’t be. I’ll reimburse you for them.”
“Oh, it’s not the cost. It’s just…” He paused then added, “You sure you don’t want to try something different? Maybe a spy novel? Or even a good old-fashioned murder mystery?”
She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles rising in her throat. If you get this nervous over a few books, be grateful I don’t send you out for tampons, pal.
“No dice. Just the romances, please.”
His defeat came out in one shuddering breath. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Shane. Have a good night.”
She hung up before giving in to a fit of laughter. Now, at least, she wouldn’t be the only person wide-awake all night. No doubt, Shane would spend the next few hours cringing over the bookstore clerk’s expression upon seeing his reading choices tomorrow. Quieting her chuckles, she reached for her robe then rose from the bed to slip her arms into the sleeves. No sense in trying to sleep now. And even less than no sense to remain in solitary confinement.
Barefoot, she padded through the hallway to the entrance to her suite then opened the door. Ted’s golden eyes blinked twice beneath the porch light. He stood against her doorjamb like a devoted sentry.
I’ll bet he wouldn’t cringe at the idea of buying me a few romance novels. She quieted the rebellious thought and forced an easy smile to her face. “Hi.”
Wow. That’s a great icebreaker, huh?
“Good evening, my angel. Is something wrong?”
“Um…I can’t sleep, and I thought you might like to come inside and talk for a while.”
His golden eyebrows quirked in questioning arcs. “Are you certain?”
She nodded. “Please?”
“Of course.” A dazzling smile lit his features.
He really was awfully handsome. Not that Adara would allow a pretty face to affect her common sense. Still, regardless of Shane’s predictions of doom and gloom, she knew Ted would never harm her. A strong second sense, added to their past meetings, fueled her theory that Ted was no more a killer than she was. She’d stake her life on it. Well, she was about to, anyway…
Throwing the door open wider, she stepped aside, allowing him entry into her domain. Entry he eagerly accepted, striding inside with a regal air Adara had only previously seen on televised airings of British royal events.
“Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?”
“No, Adara. That is not necessary.”
After she closed the door, she turned to find his gaze traveling her length in the terry cloth robe. Regardless of the density of the fabric, his intense perusal made her feel naked. A slow flush crept into her cheeks. With trembling hands, she pulled the ends of the robe tighter around her frame and inched toward the kitchen.
“I-I’m sorry about making you stand outside on the porch all night. Maybe you’d like to lie down on the couch over there and sleep?”
Ted’s fathomless eyes trapped her as neatly as a spider’s web, and she shook her head to clear images of moonlit gardens lining dappled streams.
He must have sensed her unease. His stare relaxed, as did his posture. “Again, not necessary, dearest. I can go centuries without sleep if need be.”
A nervous giggle erupted from her lips before she could squelch it. “An insomniac, huh? My mother was like that, too.”
He stopped by her little dining table, pulling out a chair for her. “You miss your mother very much, don’t you?”
The change in topic forced her into the seat as easily as if an invisible weight had settled onto her shoulders. “Every day. After my father left, Mom was all I had. We were more like sisters than mother and daughter.”
He took the chair across from her. “Tell me of your father. What do you remember about him? You loved him also, didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “You said it yourself at the hospital. Daddy was my hero. He and my mother never married, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple so much in love. Even now. I used to wait on the stoop in front of our apartment for his visit. Every Sunday afternoon, he’d come strolling up the sidewalk, and I’d run from the steps and throw myself into his arms. He’d catch me and twirl me around, and we’d laugh all the way inside where Mommy would have dinner waiting. I treasured every one of those visits.”
“What happened?”
“That last day…” Her voice softened and pain knifed her heart as she lost herself in the memory. “…I wore my best dress. The one that Daddy always said was his favorite.”
“The pink lace one with the ruffled hem.”
“How did you—” She shook her head. What did it matter how he knew? He’d already displayed his ample knowledge of her past. “You’re like the invisible brother I never knew I had, you know that?”
With a superior grin riding on his face, he waved a dismissive hand. “Please continue your tale, Adara. I apologize for interrupting you.”
“There’s not much else to tell. He never showed up. Never called. Nothing. I never saw or heard from him again.” Her voice caught on a lump in her throat, and she coughed in the hopes of clearing it. “No birthday cards, no phone calls. Every Christmas came and went without a word. It was like he suddenly fell off the face of the earth.”
“And you blamed yourself, did you not?”
Tears choked her, and she nodded.
“You thought he might have stayed if you had been born a son rather than a daughter. You put away all your pretty dresses and your dolls the very next day. Joined the boys’ baseball team, started wearing jeans and sweats everywhere, took metal shop instead of home economics in junior high school. You even took lessons at a rifle range and went turkey hunting.”
She raised a hand to stop his comments, shielding herself from each painful memory. “I was older when I went hunting. Terry took me. He said nothing tasted like a Thanksgiving turkey you shot yourself.”
“But you disagreed.”
“Yes and no. I mean, it was weird. There’s really very little difference between going to the supermarket to pick out the fattest turkey breast or shooting the animal in the woods. Not to the turkey, anyway. He’s still dead, right? I guess it’s more sanitary to go to the market. To have to look one of those majestic birds in the eye and then pierce it with an arrow or a bullet…” She shivered. “I guess I’m not much of a hunter. Killing that bird took all the joy out of the holiday for me. And when my mother died three years ago, my whole world collapsed.”
Ted’s warm fingers clasped Adara’s icy ones. “You have known so much pain, my angel. I wish I could change the past for you, but that is impossible. I can, however, change your future. Merely say the word, and I shall take you away from all your heartache. Say that you love me, and you’ll marry me. We would know such joy if you only say the words.”
She shook her head as the tears streamed down her cheeks.
Chapter Seventeen
Shane climbed the stairs leading to Adara’s hotel room, a handled paper bag from the local bookstore gripped in his hand. Amazing how he could stare down an armed gunman with less trepidation than the judgmental clerk at Book and Candle. He winced, remembering the indulgent grin and the, “Nice choices,” he received from the kid.
Talk about choices. The clerk wore a rooster’s hairstyle—dyed purple because the spikes sticking straight up weren’t shocking enough. Adding to his bizarre appearance, he sported two silver hoops in the top of one ear, a spider tattoo in the middle of his throat, and a ball-peen in the center of his tongue.
The scariest thing of all? Two years from now, that kid would probably apply to the police academy—and get in. He shivered at the thought of eventually finding himself partnered w
ith that circus specimen.
A cheerful, bright-eyed Adara greeted him at the door, sending all his aggravation washing away in the wake of her dazzling smile. “Did you get my books?”
He hefted the bag in his hand. “I got ‘em. I was also informed that Roberta Albert will be hosting a booksigning at Book and Candle next month.”
The smile disappeared as she folded her arms over her chest. “And I’ll still be here, so I’ll miss it.”
“Probably.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to bring my books down there and get them autographed for me.”
He staggered backwards, clutching his heart. “Me? Stand on line with a thousand cackling hens at a romance author’s booksigning? I’d rather commit hara-kiri with a rusty butter knife.”
She sighed, a mock pout pursing her lips. “Okay. I’ll let you off this time. But if Jacquie Irons does an appearance around here, I’ll make your life miserable ‘til you agree to go for me.”
Somehow, he couldn’t see the sweet Adara making anyone’s life miserable, but he offered her a pensive face anyway, as if agreeing to a tremendous sacrifice. “If I have to…”
“Well if you don’t, I’m sure Ted would be happy to.”
“Yeah, I bet Mr. Pink Shirt would love the op—” He stopped short in mid-stride. Speechless, he flexed his jaw muscles, demanding some argument leave his lips. Yet no sound issued forth. Only his eyes reacted, turning wide, blinking several times, still disbelieving.
Looking perfectly at home, Tedior Pha lounged at the little dining table, a broad smile on his smug face. “Good morning, Detective. Splendid to see you again.”
Shane’s confused gaze veered from Pha to Adara and back again as he tried to overcome his surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I invited him inside,” Adara said. “He’s been here since about eight o’clock last night.”
“You what?”
“Do not be angry with Adara,” Pha interjected. “Someone had to make certain she was safe through the night.” He rose to his feet and flitted forward, hand outstretched to grip Shane’s. “I was quite perturbed to find her without any kind of sentry posted outside her door yesterday evening.”