Finders Keepers Losers Die

by Carolyn Scott

  "Told you they were weapons."

  I almost smiled. "I think I'll call the police."

  "Scarface?"

  "No way. He'll have me moving in with him if he hears about this." I stood up, wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and padded barefoot across the floor to the phone.

  "Will would love that," she mumbled.

  "He'd be offering too if he found out." My gaze cut to her. "Which is why he won't be finding out."

  She started to shake her head then changed her mind and nodded. "If that's what you want. But he knows cops remember? He might find out in other ways."

  I dialed. "So be it."

  Some time later, Gina and I sat huddled under the blanket on the couch when the doorbell rang. Two burly officers entered, one male, one female. I told them about the intruder, his threat and how he was foiled.

  "You whacked him with a shoe?" the male officer said, disbelieving.

  "A stiletto," I explained.

  "They're the spiky sort, aren't they?"

  "Yes, Mack," said his colleague with a roll of her eyes. "Good for you," she said to me. "Did he come through this window?"

  "And left through it," I said.

  "You need better locks."

  "First thing tomorrow, I'm getting a locksmith round," said Gina.

  "You said it might be a suspect in a case you're working on, so that'll narrow it down," said Mack. "We'll dust for fingerprints—"

  "He wore gloves," I said.

  "Okay. Any distinguishing features? Accent? Something to identify him to you?"

  I shook my head. "No, nothing."

  "A smell maybe?"

  "No." Strange. Grimes had bad breath. Mad Max smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. "But he did know that I was staying here. It's not common knowledge." I told them about my place burning down.

  "Ever thought about leaving town?" Mack asked on a chuckle. When three sets of eyes glared at him, his smile vanished. "Sorry," he muttered.

  "I suppose someone could have followed me." Which meant it could have been anyone. Anyone with a blue sedan. It must have been the same person who'd followed me from Mrs. Scarletti's the day she gave me the box because they knew I had it. And whoever it was, knew or guessed what it contained.

  The cops left and Gina returned to her bedroom after I assured her I'd be fine. I settled back onto the couch but didn't sleep. When daylight peeped through the curtains, I got up and found the key and paper with the number scrawled on it in my bag. Using a knife, I separated the layers of the chunky sole of my mules and slid the key and paper in between. I glued the layers back together with some super glue I found in the bottom kitchen drawer. Then I showered, ate breakfast and dressed before Gina even got out of bed.

  "Going to work already?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  "Nothing better to do. Do you want me to wait for you?"

  She shook her head. "I'm calling a locksmith straight away. But you should go with someone. Call Will."

  "I'll be okay. Don't worry." I kissed her cheek and left after taking her shop keys. I told her someone needed to be there to accept her early deliveries.

  I ran to my car, parked on the street near the apartment building, jumped inside and quickly locked the door again. I checked the back seat and the mirrors but there was no one inside or out. With a sigh of relief, I headed to work.

  It was too early for most people and the roads were nearly deserted. After a few minutes, I began to tune out and drove the familiar route on autopilot. It gave me time to think.

  After a while, I came to a conclusion. Scarface was right. Whoever was following me probably didn't want me dead. Kill me, and lose the key and number forever.

  It was still only seven when I arrived at the office. Not even Will was in. I sat at my desk and stared at the computer screen for a long time. When that didn't bring any inspiration, I turned it on. While it booted up, I fished in my handbag for the receiver of the listening device I'd placed in Grimes' office. If he hadn't found it yet—and there was no guarantee that he hadn't put two and two together and come up with the real reason for my visit—then I should listen in.

  I didn't know what I expected to hear. He seemed more and more likely to be just a dumbass psycho, not the person who was trying to scare the bejesus out of me. The man who'd attacked me the night before had been larger than Grimes, and not as disgusting. Grimes had a putrid air about him, as if his horrible crimes had infiltrated his skin and he couldn't rid himself of their stench.

  Maybe Mad Max…

  No, he was taller but thinner. And the intruder hadn't stuttered.

  Then who…?

  The lock on the office door clicked and I jumped up, startled. I grabbed the metal ruler off my desk and aimed it at the door like a sword. As it opened, I stood my ground and swallowed back my rising fear.

  "Cat?" Will halted mid-step and stared open-mouthed at me.

  "It's you," I said on a breath. I sat down heavily on the swivel chair, light-headed with relief.

  "What are you doing in this early?" He frowned and approached. "Everything okay? You look tired."

  "I'm not sleeping well lately."

  He came round the desk and did something totally unexpected. He drew me into a hug. Still sitting, I rested my head against his stomach and enjoyed the touch of his fingers stroking my hair. He smelled fresh, like clean laundry and soap.

  It sucked. No, really. I didn't know what to think anymore. Just when I thought I had him figured out and I wasn't going to continue with our fling, he did something so sweet. And said nothing. No third-degree, no lecture, no inquisition, just a firm, reassuring hold. And it felt soooo gooood.

  "It must have been a bad night for you to be in before me," he said without letting go.

  I smiled into his striped shirt. "Maybe I should have stayed with you last night. I might have got some sleep."

  He caught my face in his big palms and I looked up into his dark eyes, full of sympathy and sweetness but still with that underlying mysterious quality in their black depths.

  "Come over tonight," he said.

  I nodded. How could I refuse such a command from a man like Will? Why would I want to? His voice hinted at the passionate night ahead and my body couldn't wait. So much so that it overrode my brain. To hell with the differences between us. Why waste a night of hot sex for stupid principles?

  He crouched down in front of me and kissed me gently, still cradling my face. Up to that point, our kisses, and our love-making, had been heated and urgent. Like we couldn't get enough of each other. But this kiss was languid, easy, like an endless summer night.

  "Cut it out you two."

  We'd been too distracted to notice Carl enter and we drew apart quickly, even though he knew about us.

  "You're early," Will said, standing.

  "Busy day ahead." He looked from Will to me then back at Will and shook his head. "I can't believe you two are together." Then he disappeared into his office.

  I frowned after him. "What do you think he meant by that? Does he mean we're not compatible? That we're an odd couple? Unsuitable—"

  "Cat." Will placed a finger over my lips then removed them to kiss me. "Forget Carl. I've got to do some work now, but we'll talk later."

  "We need to talk about the case," I said, shifting focus.

  He nodded. "Sure. Give me a couple of hours then we'll go over it."

  He went up to his office. Half an hour later he popped his head out and asked if I could get him a coffee.

  "Me too," Carl called.

  I sighed and retrieved some money from the cash jar then headed across the road to Trendz Cafe. Despite Scarface's theory that I wasn't in any real danger, I kept aware of my surroundings at all times. Cars inched past, stuck in traffic jams on their way to work. There weren't many pedestrians except for shopkeepers opening up or heading to Trendz for their shot of coffee. Gina's shop was in darkness and I wondered how long she'd be.

  I bought the coffees and returned to t
he office without being struck by cars, fists or lightening. My lucky day. Carl and Will were in a meeting in Will's office so I took them their cups.

  "I'll be outside for a few minutes," I said.

  Will's brow rose in a question.

  "Fresh air."

  His warning look said Be careful, but otherwise, he didn't protest. He was learning. Miracle of miracles. I went next door to Gina's shop and unlocked the door with the key she'd given me. I'd helped her out in the early days after returning to Renford before I got the job at Knights, so I knew what to do. I arranged the buckets of flowers out the front and signed for the deliveries as they trickled in. I rearranged the flowers in the shop several times before I was satisfied and served a few customers. Just as I was saying goodbye to one, a man walked in and asked for Gina by name.

  "She'll be in soon," I said. "She had some personal business to take care of."

  "Oh." He chewed his lip and dug his hands into the pockets of his crumpled business suit.

  "You can wait if you want."

  He flushed. God knows why, but I found it sweet. He was tall with angular bits sticking out everywhere—elbows, knees, cheeks—but he was kind of handsome in a geeky way. He wore glasses, a business suit and a yellow tie. His short dark hair was neatly combed and his gaze rarely met mine. When it did, it flicked away quickly as if embarrassed. He wasn't broad shouldered or square jawed like most of the guys she dated, so I guessed him to be either the computer programmer who'd recently broken it off with her or just another guy who wanted to go out with her.

  "I have to get to work," he said. "I just thought I'd…um, you know…" He laughed nervously and started to walk off.

  "Wait! You're the programmer, aren't you?"

  He stopped and turned round, startled. "Yes. Er, that's my job. How do you know?"

  I waved my hand in the air. "Just a guess. Do you want me to tell Gina something?" He looked at me blankly. "Maybe tell her you're sorry," I prompted.

  He flushed again and looked down at his polished shoes. "I shouldn't have come. It was a stupid idea."

  He started to walk off again so I ran out from behind the counter and stepped in front of him. I put a hand against his chest. "Stop right there. You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you came."

  He shook his head. "I shouldn't have. I was just…driving past and I thought I'd come in and say hi and see how she was and before I knew it I was getting out of the car and I came in here and…"

  I smiled at his rambling. He reminded me of me when I got nervous. I touched his arm and he blinked dolefully down at me. "Do you want me to tell her you were here?"

  He shrugged one shoulder.

  "And that you miss her?"

  His gaze darted to mine then away. Eventually, he shook his head.

  "Why not?"

  He sighed. "You know her, she's…beautiful. She can have anyone in the world. A girl like Gina…doesn't like guys like me. She likes athletes or millionaires. Not boring, over the hill computer geeks."

  "From what I hear, you're neither boring nor over the hill."

  "I am compared to her."

  "Ten years is not a big deal," I heard myself saying. "And just because you're a programmer doesn't make you boring."

  He studied his shoes, shuffling a pattern into the floor. "How do you know? You don't know me."

  "But I know Gina. And she wouldn't like you so much if you were any of those things."

  His head snapped up and his eyes twinkled. "She likes me?" He started to grin like a schoolboy, then tried to stop but couldn't. "She's so lovely," he gushed. "So generous and bright and she just seems to understand me. She knows what I want to say even when I can't express it. Do you know what I mean?"

  "Yeah, I do." And I could also see why he was perfect for her, despite the obvious differences. She was so used to the men in her life wanting her as a pretty ornament and not for her mind or her kind heart. She was all those things he said, and yet he was probably the first man who'd ever noticed.

  Just then, she walked in. "Hey," she said from the door. She stopped when she saw the programmer and stiffened. "Oh. Hi."

  "Tell her what you told me and everything will be okay," I whispered. I gave him a little shove in her direction and left the two of them alone.

  Outside, I breathed in deeply, feeling good about myself. Cat Sinclair, matchmaker extraordinaire. I was about to enter the office again when a hand on my arm stopped me.

  I froze. Even my heart stopped beating.

  "Hey, Sweetheart."

  Scarface. Thank Christ. "What are you doing here?"

  "Coming to see if you're okay."

  "I'm fine. Now leave."

  "Why? Don't want pretty boy to see me?"

  "Will? No, I don't. And for now, I need him on my side."

  "What's he got against me?"

  "He doesn't want me asking your advice anymore. He thinks you're a bad influence."

  A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned closer. "Oh, I am."

  "Stop with the bad boy attitude and just go." I shoved him as the door to the office opened and Will appeared. He stopped when he saw Scarface, still holding my arm.

  "You," he growled.

  Oh fuck.

  CHAPTER 16

  "What's he doing here?" Will looked as hospitable as a bear waking up from deep hibernation.

  "Nothing," I said, a little too eagerly. "He was just driving past and decided to drop by to see us."

  "Us? Why?"

  "Can't a guy catch up with his old buddy just for the hell of it?" asked Scarface, playing along.

  "We're not buddies—"

  "We were."

  "—and you never do anything just for the hell of it."

  The observation hung between them like a rotten smell. No one tried to clear the air. It was like watching a Western movie. Stand off at high noon, neither man wanting to draw first.

  Watching them, I realized how opposite they were. Will stood as rigid as a plank of wood in the doorway, arms crossed, dark thoughts flickering through his mysterious eyes. Scarface on the other hand was loose limbed, relaxed arms by his sides, a slight defiant smile on his lips, although his one humorless eye gave away his real mood. Few people would dare cross either man at that moment.

  Guess I'm stupid. Or I like stirring up trouble. "Down boys."

  No response.

  "Hello? I'm still here."

  "Leave Cat alone, Forde," Will said, ignoring me. "She doesn't need you getting her into trouble."

  "Actually, I came to give her an update."

  "You could have done that over the phone."

  "I wanted to see her in person. I'm concerned about her. Sorry, I didn't realize I had to sign in with you first."

  "She doesn't need your brand of concern, Forde."

  "But she needs yours?" Scarface snorted. "A man who'd lock her inside in the hope the big bad wolf will go away? Yeah, real helpful."

  Will bristled and I thought he'd punch Scarface's smirk off his face.

  "When I first met you,” Scarface continued, “you got the job done, no matter what it took. You jumped into any situation, head first. But after the Firestorm Road shooting, you started hiding behind rules and procedures and now you hide behind your P.I. license and more rules. "No domestics," he scoffed. "You're killing your own business by ignoring your biggest market."

  "That's my prerogative."

  "You've gone soft, Knight."

  Oh boy. I braced myself. But nothing happened. Most men would blow a gasket if another male called him soft so it was a tribute to Will's iron self-control that he remained calm.

  Too calm. Anyone who knew him, knew the subtle stiffening of his shoulders and the slight quickening of his breathing spelled Trouble.

  He stepped toward Scarface until the two men were toe to toe. The tension sharpened. The atmosphere sizzled. I wasn't the only one who felt it. Passersby stopped to watch as if sensing bloody entertainment.

  "You showe
d me what can happen when you break the rules, when you don't give a fuck," Will said in a controlled, measured voice. "I don't want to be like that anymore. And neither does Cat. Got it?"

  "Let her make up her own mind."

  "Oh, gee, how noble of you." I might have sounded a little sarcastic but hey, it's not like he hadn't tried to control my movements just as much as Will.

  "Stay out of this, Cat," said Will.

  "Enough!" I forced my way between them, elbowing through the testosterone. "Now, if you two have finished using me as a thin excuse for butting horns, I've got something I want to say. I will not be told what to do. I am not a child. I am not your responsibility. This is my first case and I'm going to make mistakes. Get used to it and shut the hell up."

  Two women in the audience applauded. Will blinked at me as if I'd turned into a pumpkin. Scarface shook his head in disappointment.

  "All well and good," he said, "if I wasn't worried you'd get yourself killed while making those mistakes."

  "You said the person following me is only trying to scare me, not kill me."

  "And Grimes?"

  "What about him?" Will asked.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "You don't know, do you?" Scarface gave Will a self-satisfied smirk. "And what about the intruder last night? Know about him?"

  "Who told you about that?" I asked.

  "The cops who attended your break-in contacted me because of your link to the Scarletti case."

  "Can't a girl have any privacy anymore?"

  "No," both men said.

  Will crossed his arms and glared at me. "So when were you going to tell me?"

  I straightened to my full height, which was still a foot shorter than either of them. "When you stopped acting like my father!" Okay. I'd said it. It was out there.

  Fuck.

  I waited for him to dispute it, but he said nothing. He didn't move, didn't even blink as he studied me. I couldn’t read his expression.

  "Maybe if you treated her with a bit more respect," Scarface said, "she might confide in you."

  "Shutup!" Will and I shouted at him.

  "Don't blame Will when you're just as bad," I added.

  "Get out of here," Will growled at him.

  Scarface held up his hands and backed away. "I'll bow out gracefully. But you know where to reach me, Cat, if you ever get tired of being kept in a glass cage."