A Knight Before Christmas

by Alicia Dean

  studied the ceiling for a while before saying, "I think since

  about six months before he died."

  "Was that the extent of your relationship? A client and a

  stylist?"

  "It was."

  "You two didn't socialize at all?" Didn't do drugs together,

  perhaps?

  He'd have to find out if Noah was one of the employees

  who came from Renewed Hope. If so, it was a pretty good

  indicator he might still be on drugs, and his nervousness

  could be due to the drug use he and Rudy shared.

  "No. No socializing. I'm straight. Rudy was straight."

  Again, that offended tone.

  "I didn't insinuate you had an intimate relationship with

  him. Just wondered if the two of you ever went out. You

  know, double dates or something?" Heath let his face show

  innocence.

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  "Oh. No. Nothing like that." The nervous eye dart started

  again. "No socializing." Which meant there was some kind of

  socializing. And if he was trying to hide the socializing, it

  obviously wasn't the kind he could talk freely about, the kind

  he wanted known. Had to be the drugs.

  "Thanks, then." Heath stood, and Noah leapt gracefully to

  his feet, seemingly relieved. He seemed so relieved, Heath

  wouldn't have been surprised to see him do one of those toe-

  spin things ballerina's did. What was it called—pirouette or

  something?

  Noah scurried away, out the door to meet his lady love.

  Ted wasn't around when Heath left, so he said goodbye to

  Gertrude and headed to his Tahoe, rubbing a hand at the

  irritation on his neck. The cape was never enough protection,

  and as was the norm, tiny hairs poked into his skin, driving

  him nuts. He needed to shower them off, but he'd go see

  Nicolette at work first. He had to find out what, if anything,

  she knew about his new pal, Noah.

  Nicolette fiddled with the football-shaped Packers

  paperweight on her desk as she waited for the Willow Bend

  apartment manager to come on the line.

  "This is Benita Rogers," a raspy, barely recognizable as

  female voice said.

  Nicolette released the paperweight and picked up Toddrick

  West's file. "Hi. I'm Nicolette Morgan with Renewed Hope

  Charity. I'd like to come and look at one of your units as soon

  as you're available."

  "You want it for one of them drug heads?"

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  Nicolette took a deep breath. "One of our recovering

  clients is ready to be placed, yes."

  "He—or is it a she?—gonna shoot up in the place? Have a

  bunch of drug deals going on?"

  Nicolette once more gripped the paperweight, trying to be

  patient. She could actually understand the woman's

  hesitation, but it still irked her to know the sort of resistance

  people who left Renewed Hope faced.

  "He's been clean for ninety days. We require employment

  and weekly drug testing. He has been working at the same

  job, at a factory, for two months now. If he loses his job or

  fails a test, then we no longer help him, although we will see

  that he moves out of your apartment without trashing the

  place."

  "Then I got a empty unit on my hands again."

  "How many empty units do you currently have?" Nicolette

  was taking a gamble, but she'd bet potential residents weren't

  lining the streets or rushing in to place their name on a two-

  year waiting list.

  After a long silence, the woman said, "You can come by

  any time, but if it's between seven and nine don't bother me.

  Just go on up and look at number 3A. It's the one that's

  closest to being ready to rent. Key's under the mat."

  "You keep keys under the mats of all your empty

  apartments?"

  She chuckled, and the sound turned into a fit of raspy

  coughing. "Key word, empty, princess. What the fuck they

  gonna steal?"

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  Nicolette's face heated in anger and she opened her mouth

  to respond, but Benita had already hung up. "Damn her," she

  muttered as she slammed the phone back in its cradle.

  "Temper, temper."

  Nicolette looked up to find Donovan standing in her

  doorway.

  "Oh, sorry." Her face heated even more, this time from

  embarrassment.

  "Problem?"

  "No." Nicolette shook her head, feeling foolish. "Just a

  crabby landlady. Normally, it wouldn't faze me, but I've been

  a little on edge lately."

  Donovan moved further into the room. He wore a navy suit

  with a light blue shirt and a pencil thin navy blue tie. His

  sandy blond hair was slicked down, its usual disarray tamed.

  "Wow," she said as he took a chair across from her desk.

  "If I knew how to whistle I'd be doing it now. Why so spiffy?

  Hot date with Marla?"

  "Noooo," he said. "Don't you remember? Hot date with the

  CEO of Tighe Industries."

  Nicolette slapped a hand to her forehead. "That's today?"

  Tighe Industries was a manufacturer of electronics equipment

  and a highly successful corporation. The owner's son died of a

  drug overdose a few months ago and after pulling himself out

  of his grief, the father had contacted Renewed Hope, wanting

  to discuss a sizable donation. Donovan handled the financial

  matters for the charity and had set up a lunch with the CEO.

  "Yeah, it's today. You forgot?"

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  "I did." Nicolette sighed and stood. "I'm sorry. I guess I

  haven't been on my game lately."

  Donovan came around to stand next to her and took her

  hands in his. "That's no surprise, sweetheart. Don't beat

  yourself up. You lost the love of your life in a horrible

  accident." He paused, shook his head. "Or maybe not an

  accident. You're taking care of your disabled mother-in-law,

  trying to run the duplexes and the charity, now the holidays

  are approaching." He peered down at her. "And an old friend's

  back in your life. Someone who no doubt makes you think of

  Rudy every time you look at him."

  Something about his tone said there was more to his

  statement than his words revealed. "I think about Rudy all

  the time anyway."

  She pulled away and paced over to look out the window.

  Outside, holiday shoppers hurried along the sidewalk, and

  bumper-to-bumper traffic signaled another hectic day in

  downtown Kansas City.

  "Yeah, but there's something about this Heath guy,"

  Donovan said. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I like him. But I

  can't help but wonder..."

  Nicolette's shoulders tensed but she didn't turn to look at

  him. "Wonder what?"

  "If maybe there's more to this than just an old friendship.

  You two seem awful close."

  Nicolette answered carefully, wanting to make sure her

  voice didn't betra
y her emotions. "He was Rudy's best friend.

  I've known him for fifteen years. Of course we're close."

  "Can I ask you something?"

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  Nicolette gave a humorless grin. "Can I stop you?"

  "Is there something more than friendship between you and

  Heath?"

  Although it was none of his business, Nicolette felt like she

  owed Donovan an explanation. She wasn't sure why, unless it

  was because he was also Rudy's friend and had been

  instrumental in the success of the charity. "No. Nothing at all.

  We're just friends." Unless you count the almost kiss we

  shared, the burning desire I feel each time I'm within ten feet

  of him. "Why do you ask?"

  She turned when he didn't answer right away. He was

  staring down at the floor, hands in his pockets. His posture

  told her he was troubled about something.

  "What is it, Donovan?"

  He raised his head. "I just want to make sure you don't do

  anything foolish. Anything to jeopardize the charity and all

  Rudy worked for."

  "What are you saying?"

  "There seems to be something between you two. I can't

  put my finger on what it is exactly, but I sense a deeper

  relationship than just friends. I'm going to be blunt. Have you

  been to bed with Heath King?"

  "No! I have not. It's really none of your business if I have."

  "I'm sorry, but I have to think about how it would affect

  the charity. I can't stop you of course, but I feel it's my duty

  to warn you of the ramifications of a relationship."

  "It's been almost a year since Rudy died. I'm thirty-two

  years old. Am I supposed to live the life of a lonely widow,

  grow old and die alone?"

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  As soon as she said the words, she realized that, in some

  ways, the answer was yes, even in her mind. She didn't think

  she would, or should, ever get involved romantically with

  another man. Most definitely not Heath.

  "Of course not, Nicolette. I want you to be happy. I want

  you to find someone. I really do. But come on, do you really

  think it should be your dead husband's best friend? What do

  you think people would say if that happened?" Without giving

  her time to answer, he continued, "They'd say you two had

  been carrying on the entire time, behind Rudy's back. Wasn't

  Heath here when Rudy was in a coma?"

  She nodded miserably.

  "Didn't he stay in the house with you?"

  Another nod.

  "There you go. People will say you were doing him while

  your husband lay dying. And by people, I'm including the

  police. Do you really want them assuming you wanted to be

  rid of Rudy so you could be with another man?"

  Nicolette's impulse was to childishly cover her ears with

  her hands and block out his words. She didn't want to hear

  Donovan say the exact same thing she'd been thinking since

  Heath walked back into her life. Even if it was true.

  "Stop it, okay? I get it. You're right. It's not necessary to

  warn me. There's nothing between me and Heath and never

  will be. He's like a brother."

  The word brother nearly stuck in her throat. She'd never

  had a brother, but she was certain she wouldn't want to do

  the things with him that she wanted to do with Heath.

  Warmth spread through her body at the thought.

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  "You sure?" Donovan asked.

  "I'm sure. For God's sake, even if it weren't for what the

  people involved with the charity would think, not to mention

  Louisa, all of Rudy's friends, my family, like you said, I have

  the cops breathing down my neck. Screwing around with

  Heath King would definitely add fuel to their fire, and that's

  the last thing I want."

  "Good." Once more Donovan took her hands in his. "I love

  you, Nicolette; I want you to be happy. I just hope you can

  find happiness with someone other than Rudy's best friend."

  "I know, you're right. But, you have to understand that

  ultimately it's my life, my decision. I don't like being told

  what to do. So, while I appreciate the advice, I'd like you to

  let me run my life as I see fit."

  "Sure. Sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I'm just

  concerned." He put his arms around her and hugged her. She

  let him, relaxing and returning the hug.

  A throat clearing at the door made them both turn. Her

  'brother' stood in the doorway, looking sexy even though he

  had that fresh haircut thing that always took a few days to

  look right. But in his faded jeans and putty-colored Henley

  beneath the brown suede jacket, he looked ten times more

  handsome than Donovan in his finest suit. Her heart sped up

  as she disentangled herself from Donovan's arms.

  "Heath. Hello."

  His eyes went from her to Donovan, where they stayed for

  a few seconds before returning to her. "Is this a bad time?"

  "No," Donovan answered for her. "I was just leaving for a

  lunch appointment."

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  He went to the door and stuck out his hand. Heath took it

  and they shook.

  "Nice to see you again," Heath said.

  "Same here." Donovan nodded and clapped Heath on the

  shoulder. "Gotta run. You take care of our Nicolette, here."

  Heath watched Donovan Sussman walk down the hall, not

  liking the heavy feeling he had in his chest when he thought

  about seeing Nicolette in the man's arms. He recognized the

  feeling as jealousy and it sucked. It was ridiculous and petty.

  Not only did he believe Nic and Donovan were just friends, he

  had no right to be jealous of any man who touched her, even

  if it was in more than just a friendly way. So why the hell did

  the thought tear his soul apart?

  "So, did you learn anything useful?" Nic asked. She wore a

  bronze-colored blouse and black slacks. Her hair was pulled

  back, accentuating the thinness in her face, making her

  cheekbones even more pronounced. She'd lost too much

  weight, but she was still beautiful.

  "Not a lot, but I do have a few questions for you."

  "Okay." She offered him a tentative smile. "I see you got

  your hair cut. At Salarber's?"

  "Yeah. I figured it was a good cover. I could sniff around

  and get a much-needed haircut. "Once more, his hand went

  to the back of his neck where the hairs were starting to feel

  like a colony of ants had invaded his skin.

  Nicolette walked close to him and lifted her hand, running

  her fingers lightly along the sides of his hair, then around to

  the back. "I like it, but I kind of miss the long-haired, bad

  boy, hippie look."

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  He grinned, although it was difficult to draw a full breath

  with her touching him. "I didn't know that was what I had


  going on."

  "You did." She dropped her hand and moved away. "Did

  your undercover op into the salon accomplish anything?"

  "I'm not sure yet. Do you know anything about a guy

  named Noah?"

  She frowned, then shook her head. "Who is he?"

  "He's the guy who cut Rudy's hair. Rudy never mentioned

  him?"

  Pacing back to the desk, she thought for a moment before

  speaking. "No. I don't think so. Is there something suspicious

  about him?"

  "He seemed nervous, like he was hiding something."

  "You think he's the blackmailer?"

  Heath recalled Noah's thin, fearful face, his bony body and

  non-intimidating demeanor. Although anything was possible,

  he said, "No. I don't think so. Maybe he was someone Rudy

  did drugs with."

  "I hate knowing Rudy was on drugs. No telling what kind

  of seedy places he went to and seedy people he hung out

  with just to satisfy his craving."

  "Drug users can be anyone from street thugs to scientists

  to millionaires," Heath reminded her, which always amazed

  him. It would seem someone with intelligence would know to

  stay away from the stuff.

  "I know. So, what next?"

  "Ted, the owner, said you'd sent a few of your people to

  get jobs at his shop, but he wouldn't give me their names."

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  "I'm glad. Part of what we do is protect their anonymity."

  "I understand that, but I'm trying to protect you. The only

  reason I didn't press him for the information is because I

  figured you'd give it to me willingly."

  She hesitated. "Their anonymity is critical to the program.

  If they thought I'd betrayed them..."

  "Nicolette, for God's sake, I'm trying to save your life here.

  You think I'm going to run to the nearest newspaper and ask

  them to print an article listing the names?"

  She sighed. "Of course not. I'm sorry." She went to a filing

  cabinet and came out with a folder. Taking it to her desk, she

  flipped through it. "Noah wasn't one of them. But here." She

  grabbed a neon pink sticky note and jotted on it, then passed

  it to Heath. "There were two men, one woman. Recognize any

  of the names?"

  "No. No one I spoke with while I was there, but this gives

  me a starting point. Thanks." He folded the note and stuck it

  in his jeans pocket. "Listen, I have to run to the FedEx office