“Jan, give me a break.” Barbara bumped shoulders with her friend. “You’re not as tough as you’d like us to think. And Maddi’s right. You need to help battered women protect themselves.”
She grinned. “Now, that’s a thought. I’ll see what the department says about teaching self-defense courses.”
Maddi looked at her friends with pride. “Our MARS Club is evolving into something big. And we three women did it.”
Barbara got up to use the restroom, and spotted a familiar face. She gestured with her chin.
“Look who’s here. Mr. Stalker. He’s over there next to the window. Don’t tell me it’s a coincidence. Not three times.”
Maddi whispered, “He’s a PI, and I think he’s staking one of us out. But who, and why?” She twisted in her seat to stare at him. “Should we go up and ask?”
“I should have guessed,” Jan said. “He looked a little too slick. How did you find out?”
“The last time we saw him, I visited the ladies room and passed his table, remember? It looked like he was wearing a listening device, aimed right at our table. Before you ask, I knew this because I read a book where this guy had a shotgun mike, wrapped up in a newspaper. All he had to do was aim the paper in the right direction and he could hear everything being said. Cool, isn’t it?”
“Very cool,” Jan said. “So, Smarty, because he was wearing an earphone and carrying a newspaper, you figured out he was a P.I. Clever of you.”
Maddi shook her tousled blonde curls. “No, that was just a hunch. After he left I went up to his waitress, and said he looked like an old school chum, could she please check his signature for me?”
Stretching her hand out in front of her, she pretended to study her manicure. “His name is Nick Chandler. I looked it up on the Internet and found several, but only one who lives in the Princeton area. And he happens to be a private investigator. So, being the clever sleuth that I am, I figured it had to be him and that he was spying on us.”
“Why?” Barbara looked offended. “Why would he follow us around, and spy on us? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I have no idea. But I do think he’s kind of cute.” Maddi caught his eye and gave him a bright smile. He quickly looked the other way.
“Damn!” Jan hissed. “I knew he was up to something.”
Barbara’s lips tightened the way they did when she was good and pissed. “Which one of us is his target, do you suppose?”
“You, of course,” Jan answered without hesitation. “Who else could it be? I’m a cop, and nobody has any reason that I’m aware of to spy on Maddi.”
“Nobody has any reason to spy on me, either.”
“Sure they do.” Jan flashed her know-it-all grin.
“Who, then?”
“Your husband, honey. The man wants you back.”
***
“You all know what happened to Sophie Calvetti, and believe me when I say it can happen to you.” Jan had the member’s full attention now. “So, I’m not here to alarm you. I’m here to arm you.”
The young girl’s murder had made last week’s papers. Her boyfriend broke into her apartment and waited until she returned from work. He raped her, then strangled her with his bare hands.
Today’s meeting was not only to grieve and discuss this young woman’s untimely death, but for Jan to educate the women in self defense. The chairs and tables were pushed against the wall to make a clear space in the center. “I brought along a friend of mine. He’s a cop, too, and he’ll be demonstrating with me the techniques involved.”
Jan introduced her boyfriend, Josh. “After we show you the basic steps of self defense, feel free to ask questions, and come up here and give it a try.”
She punched Josh lightly in the arm. “He’s all yours, ladies. You can knee him.” She did. “Stomp on his foot,” she demonstrated, “and elbow him in the solar plexus, and he’ll take it standing up, or sitting down.”
Josh was down on the floor, shaking his head. She offered him a hand, which he quickly declined. The ladies were laughing as Josh groaned good-naturedly, got himself up and made pained faces.
“Step one. When your attacker approaches you, don’t try to struggle. Surprise is on your side. Step two. Quickly reach up and grab his hair or his collar, and pull hard to get him off balance.” She demonstrated every step with Josh, who played along good naturedly.
“Step three. Prepare to strike the attacker with your knee to his groin, as I’ve already demonstrated.”
That brought a few laughs, and a sigh of relief from Josh. He was a good six-foot-two, a solid two-twenty, with the shoulders of a quarterback, so the women were a little lean on their sympathy, figuring he could take it.
“Step four. Strike with full force to the groin. Pull all the way back and give it to him good. If done right, the attacker will fall to the floor.”
Josh collapsed on the ground, holding himself and rocking in mock agony. Now he had the crowd of women grimacing along with him.
“Step five. Prepare to strike your attacker with a foot stomp. Step six. Use fist to his solar plexus or stomach.” She took pity and only punched his stomach lightly. He obligingly doubled over.
“Step seven. Hope that you have disabled him long enough to flee the situation.”
The women broke into applause, followed by raised hands and dozens of questions. Several women were more than happy to step forward and practice these maneuvers on Josh.
Josh bravely took the abuse, on the chin, on the foot, in the groin, everywhere his hard body could deflect it.
Jan couldn’t have been more proud.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Nick Chandler hated his job, his life, and spying on people, even when the people he spied on were attractive women. It made him feel like some kind of voyeur who got his rocks off by watching some chick undress. Okay, maybe it wasn’t all bad. Even the cruddiest job had its up-side, and he was a man, after all.
But he still felt like scum. The dirty bathtub variety.
This job was getting to him. How many lowlifes could one man handle? He’d seen them all, and he was sick to death of it. He had a pension from the NYPD. He was thinking about using it to go someplace warm and sunny, where he could sit on the beach and sip rum from a coconut all day. Maybe open up a little bar, and hire some babes in grass skirts to help him tend it.
Every day of sneaking around and spying on people made that dream a little brighter and a little nearer.
After a couple of months spying on Maddi Clemmons, and keeping close tabs on her friends, he had only good things to report. The lady was all right, in his opinion.
He had this one last night to follow her, and then he could turn over his report and his photos to the father that had walked out of her life.
Another job bites the dust.
***
It was Maddi’s night to cook, and Barb’s to clean. She’d made angel hair pasta, lightly coated with extra virgin olive oil, sautéed some scallops, mussels, and grilled prawns. A mixed greens salad sat on the table, and she’d been about to add a little raspberry vinaigrette, when she glanced out the window and saw something or someone in the bushes. They lived in the country on an acre estate. If someone was out there, a murderer or a mugger, the women would be at his mercy, unless they happened to catch him first.
“Barb. Come here for a sec. I thought I saw something move in the hedge over there.”
“Probably a deer. They’re not afraid to come near the house. You know how often they come up to feed.”
“This was not the four-legged variety. I’m sure it’s not a what, but a he.”
“A man? You’re sure?” Barbara squinted, but couldn’t make out anything in the dark.
“Look over there.” Maddi pointed. “See the legs through the bush? Two of them. Who do you think they belong to? Mr. Pretty-boy P.I., or Mr. Peeping Tom?”
“What if it’s my rapist?” She shuddered. “We should call Jan.”
“No, not yet. I can�
��t imagine him crawling around my woods. He’s never contacted you, and if he was going to, this wouldn’t be his style.”
“So you’re the expert now?” Barb asked with sarcasm. “You never even met the guy.”
“I think it’s our P.I.”
“I don’t want to take any chances.” Barbara peeked out the window. “Got a gun?”
“No. What do we need that for?”
“To shoot him with.” She laughed at the look of horror on Maddi’s face. “Just kidding, dope. In case we’re wrong. What if it’s someone else lurking out there?”
“Nobody lurks around houses on the outside of Princeton. Not even rapists.”
“But they do inside of Princeton?” Barbara teased. “How do we know if an axe-murderer moved to the area lately? Do you think they send a warning to their neighbors before taking up residence?”
“Oh, Barb, shut up. You’re just trying to scare me. I’m going out there and confronting him, that’s all.”
“Not without me. We should bring something to hit him with. Got any old baseball bats?”
“Nope, no boys. There’s my tennis racquet, but I don’t want to use that. I keep an old set of golf clubs in the garage. We could knock him out with an iron.” She practiced a swing.
“Not the way I hit my clubs, we couldn’t. How about a heavy skillet? I could smack him over the head from behind.”
“Oh, that’s just a great suggestion.” Maddi gave Barbara a disgusted look. “What if I’m wrong and you’re right, and this asshole has a gun?”
“Hmmm. Then we’d have a problem. Better if we call Jan.” Barbara picked up the phone. “On the other hand, I don’t want the call to go through the police scanner. What if it was Bill who hired a PI to spy on me?” She thumped her fist on the counter. “That would be a really crummy thing to do.”
“Yeah, well, get over it.” Maddi walked to the door, and opened it. She turned. “You coming?”
***
Nick saw Maddi step onto the back deck, and soundlessly he drew deeper into the shadows. Still she marched directly toward him, Barbara close behind.
When she was within three feet, he stepped out and faced the women. “Good evening. I had a little car trouble down the road and wondered if I could use the phone.”
“Really?” Maddi walked up to him, and plucked his cell phone out of his coat pocket. “What’s this? Dead too?”
“Out of range. Damn service. One’s as bad as the other.” He gave her a smile and a shrug as if to say, ‘What can you do?’
She flipped it open, pressed a button, and held it to her ear. “Seems to be working now.”
Looking too smug for his liking, Maddi tossed it back. He snapped it closed, and shoved it back in his pocket. “How did you know I had a cell phone in my pocket?”
“A cell phone to a man is like an extension of his penis. He’d be half the stud without it.”
Barbara snorted, and gaped at Maddi with new respect.
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Nick warily eyed Barbara, who was wielding a heavy frying pan and looking as if she wanted to use it. He didn’t think she was planning on frying grits and eggs in it, either.
“Yup. And we want some straight answers from you, Mr. Chandler.” Maddi turned to Barbara. “You want to go first?”
“You bet your sweet ass I do. Why have you been spying on us? Who put you up to this? My husband or Maddi’s?”
Nick felt humiliated and piqued. “How did you know I was spying on you? How did you know my name? What did I do to give myself away?”
Barbara tossed the heavy skillet from her right hand to her left, with no more trouble than if the pan had been a plastic Frisbee. She stopped her skillet throwing, long enough to look him dead in the eye. “Hey, I’m asking the questions. Which asshole was it?”
Maddi watched Nick Chandler squirm. She still thought he was extremely cute, even more so now that they had caught him red-handed, and he was trying to weasel out of it. Something about his weaseling was appealing, and kind of sexy. Still, as endearing as he was, she decided to pick on him too.
“Yeah, who was it? If it was her husband Bill, he needs to know that his money was wasted. And if it was mine, tell him I have a red-hot lover. Or better yet, a slew of them.”
“It was neither.”
“Neither? Well then, who the hell was it?”
He pulled a photograph from his pocket. “Do you recognize this man?” he asked Maddi.
“No.” Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach clenched. No, it couldn’t be. Not after all these years.
“Are you sure? Take a closer look.”
“I already told you I don’t know who it is.” She gave him an unfriendly look. “I think you should leave.”
Barbara peeked over her shoulder at the picture. “Maddi, isn’t that--?”
“No.” Her voice faltered. “Impossible. I’m sure he’s dead.”
“Your father is alive, Ms. Clemmons, and he wants to meet with you. He asked me to see how you’re doing, speak with you, and see if you would agree to a meeting. One meeting, that’s all. He says he’s got a lot of explaining to do.”
“A little late, wouldn’t you say? His explanation should have come twenty-five years ago.” Her throat tightened. “Who cares now? I was nine years old when he skipped town. Mom and I were left with nothing but debts.”
Barbara put an arm around her. “Oh, Maddi. He’s alive. He wants to see you. It’s kind of exciting.”
“For who? Not for me. I don’t ever want to see him again. Not now, not ever.”
Nick spoke, “He’s ill, Ms. Clemmons. He might not live that much longer. He’s a sad, old man. It wasn’t easy for him either. Why don’t you just hear him out?”
“I’ve heard you out, and now I’d like to show you out.”
He stood his ground. “You need to see him. He’s a broken man, begging for a chance to be reunited with his daughter. Give him a chance.”
Barbara said, “You heard the lady.” When he didn’t move she practiced a golf swing with the skillet. “You should see my five-iron shot.”
He moved ever-so-slightly away from Barbara’s reach.
Maddi sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Come on in. It’s silly to have this conversation in the dark.” She led the way toward the house, and Barbara huffed along beside her. Nick seemed reluctant to follow them in.
“Come on.” Maddi turned her head around. “We promise not to bite.”
Barbara pulled up a couple of barstools to the kitchen counter, and Nick gamely took the one next to hers. Maddi took out a bottle of Merlot from the wine rack and opened it.
“Okay, ladies, first let me apologize for tailing you. Nobody likes it, of course. But I’m a P.I., obviously not a very good one,” he said sheepishly, “and that’s what I do.”
Barbara said, “Once you found Maddi, why didn’t you simply approach her? Why were you following us around?”
“Her father wanted to hear about her, but was reluctant to make contact right away.” He looked at the two women. “I’m an ex-cop and cops are very curious individuals. I had a strong hunch that something was up between you ladies, and I wanted to find out what it was. I overheard enough to know that you’re hanging around the Goal’s Gym, searching for some guy you met in a bar.” He stroked his chin. “I could probably help in your search.”
“We don’t need your help. We’re pretty sure we can get him on our own.” Maddi sniffed the wine, then poured three glasses.
“The guy you’re looking for is Lee Waters. He targets and blackmails lonely, wealthy women--anyone who can afford the big pay-off.”
“We know that. But how do you?” Barbara’s expression altered from hostility to respect.
“He targeted you. He chooses his women with extreme care.”
“Why hasn’t he been arrested if he’s done this before? Didn’t anyone do anything?”
“They were in the same situation as you. Married women with affluent h
usbands and kids.”
Barbara muttered, “Was that other woman at the bar part of the set-up, I wonder? The one who threw a drink in his face?”
“Probably. It broke the ice so he could talk to you.”
Maddi put an arm around her, squeezing her shoulders in a hug. “He might have fooled a few women, but I’ll bet you’re the only one who kicked his butt good.”
That helped. Barbara actually laughed. “I was good, I must admit.” She straightened her shoulders and looked bigger than her five-feet-ten. “I just wish the law would allow the women who got conned by this creep to have fifteen minutes alone with him. Then they could prosecute what was left.”
“Hey, I want some fun too.” Maddi practiced a karate kick. “Perhaps a few close female friends could be invited to the party.”
Nick looked from Maddi to Barbara, and back. “Remind me never to cross the two of you.”
Maddi pounced on him. “Speaking of which, why exactly did you get rid of your tie?” She put her hand in his pocket and pulled it out. “I read a lot of espionage books and true-life crime, so I’ve got a suspicious mind. Has it got a hidden camera or something?”
The two women fought for the tie, both eager to inspect it.
He grabbed it from both their hands. “Easy on the merchandise. Here it is. Just an ordinary tie,” he flipped it over, “with a high resolution camera.” He showed them how it connected to a miniature portable recorder worn on his belt.
“Wow.” Maddi’s eyes widened. “Very cool. James Bondish.”
He laughed. “Not quite.”
“Okay, Mr. Bond. You told us what you know about Lee Waters. Now tell us about Maddi’s dad.” Barbara said with a little more friendliness than previously shown.
Nick took his leather jacket off, and placed in on an empty seat beside him. “You know about the statue of limitations? Okay, twenty-five years is up. He’s free now to contact you and return to his home and his country, with no fear of the consequences.” His voice gentled. “It’s really his story, Maddi. I think he’s the one who should tell it to you.”
She pondered that. “I suppose I could hear him out. At least I’d know what happened to him.”
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY Page 66