The Agent

by Herkness, Nancy

  She’d finally reached the fourth ex-wife, who confirmed that she had not mentioned a word about Natalie to her husband. Regina Van Houten was still in the wind. That worried Natalie but it also made her believe that Regina hadn’t discussed her sanctuary with her husband.

  Tully took her hand and turned it to kiss the palm, his lips making her skin tingle. Then he twisted in his chair to look at her. “Okay, what’s the drill when I’m not here?”

  “My laptop stays on and plugged in at all times so the surveillance software is running. If it sounds an alarm, I call the police first and then you. If I’m not at my house, I make sure to stay away from it. If I’m in my house, I go to my bedroom and wedge a chair under the doorknob. Then I go in the bathroom, lock the door, and wedge another chair under that doorknob. Oh, and I have a container of pepper gel in every room.” She glanced at the black plastic cylinder sitting on the kitchen counter.

  Tully had unpacked an array of security supplies from the giant black duffel bag he’d hauled out of his car, including a box of police-grade pepper gel canisters with dye to mark the stalker. He’d also put smaller versions of pepper spray in her purse and laptop bag.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “If he confronts me, use the pepper gel without hesitation. Aim for the face. Don’t talk to him. Just escape in whatever way possible. My imperative is to get away,” she repeated his instructions. He’d already taken her outside to spray the stuff so she could get a feel for how hard she had to squeeze the button.

  “Good.” His voice was crisp with approval. “Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” She meant it. “It helps to have a plan mapped out.”

  “We’ll go over it with Pam as well before I leave.”

  Disappointment crashed through her. She’d somehow assumed that he would spend the night after they’d had sex. She wanted him to spend the night, to fall asleep and wake up with his big, powerful, naked body beside her in her bed.

  Something of her feelings must have shown in her face, because he stood and hooked his fingers in her belt loops to pull her against him. He brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “I have an antikidnapping training session scheduled with a client tonight. And it’s the kind of client who requires that I be there.”

  “Of course,” she said, feeling like an idiot. He had a high-powered position. He couldn’t spend all his time with her. “I completely understand.”

  “No, you don’t.” His voice was deep and resonant. “I want to spend the night making love to you—first fast, then slow, then somewhere in between. I want to wake up to see your hair all messy from sex and sleep.” He released a belt loop to take a lock of her hair and tuck it behind her ear, his fingertips tracing the whorls so she shivered. “I want to peel the sheet back from your beautiful breasts and suck them to make you wet before I slide into you first thing in the morning.”

  “Tully!” She was getting wet without his mouth being anywhere near her breasts. She grabbed his biceps to keep her shaky knees from folding.

  “There’s something about morning sex that makes it different from every other time of day. It’s low key and sleepy and slow.” He skimmed his fingers down her neck and over the outline of her now-hard nipples. “Which is why I intend to spend tomorrow night here.” His smile was a seduction and a question. “If I’m invited.”

  “Consider this an invitation,” she said as she stood on her toes to lick the indentation at the base of his throat. She flattened her palms over his nipples, rubbing in tiny circles. She wasn’t going to be the only one who went to bed frustrated tonight.

  “Here’s my RSVP.” He tilted her head up so he could slant his lips over her mouth, teasing the seam with his tongue until she opened to him. When he broke the kiss, it made her feel a little better that he was breathing hard too.

  “Back to work.” He set her away from him. “Before I forget what I need to do.”

  She copied his methodology and hooked one finger in his belt loop to hold him there. “Before Pam arrives, I’d like to ask you something. When I’m at the salon with customers, is there any reason for Pam to be there? I mean, the stalker isn’t going to walk in with all those people there, is he?”

  Tully frowned. “I’d feel a lot better if she was there.”

  “But is it necessary?” She felt like a bodyguard was overkill when she was surrounded by staff and clients. “She can come with me to open and return just before closing.”

  “Your stalker might be one of your customers,” Tully said. “Or even one of your employees.”

  “Not one of my employees.” Every member of her staff had been with her for at least two years. She trusted them because she didn’t continue to employ anyone who didn’t live up to her standards. “They have a vested interest in keeping me happy and healthy.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t like wasting Pam’s time.” And she felt like she was taking advantage of what was now a personal relationship with Tully.

  “As long as there are no more messages from the stalker, I’ll allow it for tomorrow.” He pinned her with his gaze. “But you have to swear to tell me if you receive anything new.”

  She raised her eyebrows at his wording but decided not to argue since he’d agreed to “allow” it. “Of course I will.”

  He grazed her cheek with his fingertip. “Camera three isn’t going to reposition itself.”

  Chapter 10

  When Tully dropped into a chair in his partner’s computer room after a long night without Natalie, Leland swiveled around, looking surprised. “I didn’t expect you in so early this morning. Didn’t you have a training session with the Hazelton family?”

  “Yeah, and they’re a smart bunch. They won’t make stupid mistakes in a bad situation.” Tully yawned. “But I’ve got a call to make today, so I need you to give me some leverage on Natalie’s rat bastard of an ex-husband.” He couldn’t wait to put the fear of God into the man. Ferreting out if he was her stalker was almost secondary. “He’s my prime suspect as of now.”

  “Because?” Leland did that thing where he touched his fingertips together without looking ridiculous.

  “Because a high percentage of stalkers are exes of some kind. And he’s manipulative and narcissistic. Right up there on the stalker-personality charts.”

  “I haven’t seen anything to indicate changes in his financial or professional status. God knows I’ve looked.”

  “If you’ve looked, then there’s nothing to find on the grid.” But that didn’t mean the slime bucket was innocent. He’d just been clever enough to keep whatever might have triggered him off the radar.

  “Are you still going to see him?”

  Tully stood up. “Damn straight. I’m going to use my old FBI strategy of getting in his face and seeing how he reacts.”

  “You no longer have a badge to flash at him, so it would seem less effective,” Leland observed.

  “But I still have a gun.” Tully bared his teeth in a feral smile.

  Two hours later, he walked up the steps to Matt Stevens’s office, located two towns over from Cofferwood but in a Victorian house much like Natalie’s salon. The building sported fresh gray paint with crisp white trim. Prosperous and solid—a good look for an insurance agency.

  Tully adjusted the shoulder holster under his charcoal suit jacket. He would make sure Stevens saw it when he sat down.

  “I’m Tully Gibson, here to see Matt Stevens,” he said to the receptionist seated at the oak desk just inside the front door.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the youngish woman asked with a smile.

  Tully winked at her. “I was hoping he might have a few minutes open.” Leland had hacked into Stevens’s computer, so Tully knew he had no scheduled appointments at this hour.

  “Let me check.” The receptionist spoke on the office phone while Tully scanned the waiting area. Comfortable chairs around a glass-and-wood coffee table scattered with mag
azines. A wall of bookcases that held a coffee station, some framed photos and industry awards, and a few rows of matching books, probably obsolete insurance regulations. Nothing to indicate a man in financial trouble.

  “Mr. Gibson? I’m Matt Stevens.”

  Tully focused sharply on the man who walked into the room with his hand held out. He wanted to see what had led Natalie to marry him.

  Stevens’s smile was practiced but not insincere, his teeth even and too white—probably bleached. He was medium height and fit. He wore gray trousers and a blue dress shirt with a purple-and-pink tie that was too garish for Tully’s tastes, but he figured the new girlfriend had picked it out. He wore his brown hair long enough to curl over his collar. His demeanor was that of a man who liked himself more than a little.

  While Tully was sizing up Stevens, he knew the other man was doing the same to him, evaluating his expensive suit and custom-stitched boots.

  Tully took the man’s hand in a strong grip, which Stevens returned. “Thanks for seeing me without an appointment.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Stevens asked, his smile still in place.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Please, come back to my office and tell me what I can do for you.” Stevens gestured toward the door he’d emerged from.

  Tully preceded him through it, finding the decor much the same. His gaze caught on a large silver-framed photo of Stevens with his arm around a slim, young blonde woman with a big smile. Evidently, the man had a type, although his new girlfriend lacked Natalie’s air of elegant composure.

  “Have a seat.” Stevens gestured toward the fake-leather-and-wood chair in front of his oak desk. He settled into a matching high-backed swivel chair behind it.

  Tully waited until he was sure Stevens’s attention was on him before flicking his jacket button open so his holster would be visible as he sat. He caught the jitter in the other man’s eyes with satisfaction.

  “I have a confession to make,” Tully said with a thin smile. “I’m not here to buy insurance.”

  Stevens swallowed but folded his hands on his desktop. “Then why are you here?”

  “Where were you yesterday between twelve and four p.m.?”

  “If you’re with law enforcement, I’d like to see some kind of identification,” Stevens said.

  Tully leaned forward and locked his gaze on the other man. “I’m conducting a private investigation because I think you would prefer not to have this made public.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His anger was mixed with confusion that Tully judged to be genuine.

  “Answer my question and I’ll tell you,” Tully said.

  “Yesterday was Monday, so I was here at the office.”

  “You didn’t go out for lunch?”

  “No, I had it delivered.”

  “Can your receptionist vouch for your presence here during that time period?”

  “This is bullshit. You need to leave.” Stevens stood and reached for the phone.

  Tully leaned back and let his jacket flap open even farther so the gun would be obvious. He’d brought his big Glock for intimidation purposes. He said in a flat voice, “Don’t.”

  The other man sat down slowly. “Who are you?”

  “Have you ever been in an internet café?” Tully shot at him.

  “Why would I? I have my own internet here.” Stevens waved a hand at his computer. The man’s hand shook slightly, which brought Tully great joy.

  “Have you broken up with your girlfriend?”

  Stevens frowned. “What? No.”

  “Have you had any financial losses in the past six months?”

  Sweat glistened on the other man’s forehead. Good. “Nothing significant. The usual ups and downs of any business.”

  “How far down?”

  “Shit, it’s no big deal. I’ve had worse months.”

  “Then why are you stalking your ex-wife?” Tully gave him a hard, threatening look as he bit out the words.

  “My ex . . . Natalie?” Stevens looked baffled. “Stalking her?”

  “Sending her emails, leaving her letters.”

  Stevens shook his head. “I’m not doing those things. I haven’t spoken to Natalie in months.” A cloud of bitterness darkened his expression. “She and I aren’t exactly friends.”

  “Which is why you’re stalking her. To punish her.”

  He looked almost relieved. “I swear I’m not doing anything to Natalie. I have a new life. I don’t even think about her.”

  That pissed Tully off, but he read Stevens as telling the truth. Of course, the problem with narcissists was that they often convinced themselves of their own bullshit. That made them believe they weren’t lying even when they were. They could fool a lie detector test on a good day.

  Tully changed tacks. “Do you have any idea who might stalk her?”

  “She’s not the kind of person who makes enemies.” Stevens considered for a moment. “What kind of emails and letters? Threats?”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t going to mention the broken mirror. He decided to stroke Natalie’s ex to see if he could add information. “You’re a businessman, so you understand local economics. Does she have a jealous competitor? Anyone whose business she might have hurt?”

  “Natalie bought the salon from its owner, so it was already a going concern.” Stevens’s tone was dismissive. “She didn’t have to build up a clientele or anything. It was just handed to her. So I don’t see anyone getting bent out of shape over that.”

  Tully wanted to hit the other man in his patronizing nose. He knew Natalie had taken a faded hairstyling studio and turned it into a sleek high-level salon. But he’d learned long ago not to let his emotions control his actions. He nodded.

  “Who are you?” Stevens asked again.

  Tully reached for his wallet, smiling when Stevens flinched. He drew out a business card and flicked it on the desk. Tully stood, deliberately looming over the desk and Stevens. “If I find out you’re the stalker, you will be very, very sorry.”

  The man spread his hands in a gesture of abject surrender and stammered, “I’m n-not. I swear.”

  Tully turned on his heel and walked out.

  Natalie rolled a section of her client’s hair around her brush and aimed the blow-dryer at it. The voices of customers and staff, the drone of hair dryers, the bright pop tunes playing through the ceiling speakers, and the occasional ring of the office phone hummed in her ears. It was the best kind of music, spreading a soothing balm over her frayed nerves. Her work had kept her sane during the disintegration of her marriage and it would calm her until her stalker was caught.

  Once she’d convinced Tully that her stalker couldn’t be a staff member, he’d insisted that she and Pam hold a meeting that morning to inform her employees about Natalie’s stalker. They’d given out Pam’s cell number to call if anyone saw anything suspicious. One of the shampoo girls was so upset Natalie had sent her home. Natalie had been embarrassed to share her strange situation with her staff; it made her feel weak and not in control of her life. However, everyone had rallied around her, their shock turning to anger and a determination to protect her. Their loyalty had brought tears that she’d turned away to hide.

  Pam had been especially pleased with the presence of Gino. He worked out at the gym on a regular basis, so he had impressive muscles, and he had appointed himself Natalie’s friend and protector from the day she’d started at the salon. Pam felt he would be a deterrent to any stalker.

  “Sir, do you have an appointment?” The raised voice of her receptionist, Bianca, cut through the pleasant swirl of sound.

  “Excuse me, please,” she said to her client as she set down her brush and hair dryer.

  As Natalie walked toward the front desk, she scanned the tall, thin stranger standing in front of it. He wore a navy suit and white shirt with a red-and-blue-striped tie pulled loose at the neck. His blond hair was receding from his high forehead, but he was probably on
ly in his thirties. He had a bland, round face that seemed at odds with his lean frame.

  “May I help you?” she asked as she stepped in front of the desk.

  “Please tell me that you’re Natalie!” His slightly nasal voice shook.

  “Yes, I am. May I ask who you are?”

  He thrust out his hand. “Dobs Van Houten. I’m Regina’s husband. That’s what I came to talk to you about.” He took a breath and spoke almost on a sob. “I’m hoping—no, praying—you know where she is.”

  A steel band seemed to wrap around her chest and squeeze while she stared at his outstretched hand. It had finally happened. A husband had somehow connected her with his wife’s flight. Now she had to pretend to be nothing more than a concerned but uninvolved bystander.

  Although it made her nauseated to do so, Natalie shook his hand, finding his grip surprisingly firm. She kept her expression neutral and said in her most sympathetic tone, “Oh dear, I wish I could help you, but I wasn’t aware she was missing.” She turned to Bianca. “Could you check the last time Regina was here for an appointment?”

  Fortunately, she knew the appointment had been at least three weeks before Regina had requested her assistance. Bianca gave her the date. “She hasn’t been here since then,” Natalie said. She was trying to picture this man angry enough to threaten to throw his wife down the stairs. He seemed too vapid to generate that much emotion.

  But she knew how deceiving appearances could be. Everyone assumed her marriage with Matt had been ideal.

  He rubbed his forehead. “She told me she was going to New York City to sightsee with her cousin, who was visiting. They were supposed to stay in a hotel for a few days. When she didn’t answer her cell phone, I called the hotel. I found out she never got there.”

  “That sounds scary. Did you call the police?” What Natalie really wanted to ask him was if there might be a good reason that his wife ran away from him.

  “Not immediately. I thought there must some reasonable explanation.” He looked up at her, his eyes a pale, watery blue. “They haven’t found her, so I’m trying to contact anyone who knows her.” He looked around at the busy salon. “Could we go somewhere more private?” he asked.