SIX DAYS

by Williams, Mary J.

  “You want anything else?”

  To her credit, the waitress kept a pleasant expression on her face. Her weary eyes told a different story. After two hours, three cups of coffee, and one cinnamon bun, the woman had little hope Dee would do any better with her tip than the last customer.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  If the coffee shop were busy, the waitress could justify moving her along. The mid-morning lull meant an empty restaurant save for Dee and a middle-aged man hunched over his laptop.

  With a sigh, the waitress nodded and left Dee to her cold, half-empty cup of coffee.

  Dee was almost ready to leave of her own accord. She was there on her own time, motivated by another email to Linc and a desire to exchange a few words with Amelia Moore.

  From her vantage point, the entrance of the apartment building looked the same as dozens of others across the city. The rent was pricy even by New York standards, but not so high as to warrant a doorman. Security cameras and an eight-number passcode kept out the riffraff, but no system was perfect. By Dee’s estimation, the right person with the right set of skills could bypass any obstacle with little difficulty.

  If offered, Dee wouldn’t pass on the chance to explore Amelia Moore’s apartment, but she would leave the breaking and entering to the experts. Besides, she already possessed the information she needed.

  With the address Noah Brennan provided, Dee had juggled her other cases and dogged Amelia’s trail for the better part of a week. At the time, she still worked for Linc. Seemed only right she should find a way to earn her pay.

  Turned out, like so many of the people Dee investigated, Amelia was a creature of habit. The model left her apartment each morning between ten and eleven for a brisk three-block walk to her health club. An hour and a half later, she retraced her steps to her home.

  For Dee’s purposes, the rest of Amelia’s day, lunch, meetings, dinner, clubbing, didn’t matter. Her plan was simple. Catch the woman as she left for her workout, let her know, whatever her endgame, she needed to stop the emails before the police were called in.

  The longer Dee waited, the less sure she became of her course of action. She hadn’t consulted Linc. Instead, she woke with the idea and acted before she had time to change her mind.

  If she approached Amelia, she would officially overstep the parameters she set for herself, personally, and professionally.

  Dee rarely questioned herself, and she didn’t like the feeling. Then again, her feelings for Linc counted as unchartered territory. He confused her, excited her, should have depressed her, yet didn’t. He made her laugh, made her angry, made her forget the past—until she remembered.

  No wonder she was caught in an emotional tug-of-war.

  As Dee struggled with what to do, a sleek sports car pulled to a stop outside the coffee shop. Because the streets were lined with luxury automobiles, she didn’t give the Porsche a second thought—until the driver stepped from behind the wheel.

  “Son of a…”

  Fishing two twenties from her wallet, Dee jumped to her feet, tossed the bills on the table, rushed past the wide-eyed waitress, and straight out the door.

  Tall, impeccably turned out in a suit, tie, and navy overcoat, Lincoln James looked like he belonged in the neighborhood. Except he didn’t. He should be in his multi-million-dollar Park Avenue penthouse apartment, not here, not anywhere near Amelia Moore.

  Linc had a head start. His long legs carried him across the street. Dee, running at top-speed, caught his arm as he stepped onto the sidewalk.

  Surprise lit Linc’s blue eyes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Dee tugged Linc to the side of the building, away from the steady stream of foot traffic. She wanted to shout, to vent her frustration. In deference to his famous face, she carefully kept him turned from prying eyes and tempered her tone.

  When she spoke, she whispered words crackled with anger.

  “I told you to stay far away from Amelia Moore. Yet, here you are. Want to explain yourself?”

  Casually, as if the conversation centered on the time of day, not his stalker, Linc crossed his arms, refusing to wilt under Dee’s laser-sharp gaze.

  “I planned to heed your advice. Then, Boris sent me the latest email. Enough is enough. I’m done playing an unwilling part in this woman’s twisted fantasies.”

  “She might be twisted, or crazy. She might just want publicity. All good reasons to keep your distance.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here? Unless—” Linc’s frown deepened. “Shit. Did you follow me?”

  Somehow, Linc managed to shift the dynamic so Dee was on the defensive, and she wasn’t pleased. She searched her brain for a way to regain the moral high ground.

  “I saw you arrive,” she muttered.

  “From where?”

  Dee nodded toward the coffee shop.

  “Don’t try to tell me you were in the neighborhood and decided to stop for a snack.”

  “I’m here for the same reason as you.” If he wouldn’t buy a lie, Dee would use good old-fashioned bravado. “You hired me, remember? I’m a professional. Go away and let me do my job.”

  “Your job was to find Amelia Moore, not confront her. Besides…” Linc gave her a superior smirk. “You don’t work for me any longer. Remember?”

  “As of eight this morning, when I boarded the subway, my bank account didn’t show any new payment. So, technically—”

  “Technically, my ass.” With a growl, Linc ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing you can say will change my mind.”

  Linc marched toward the apartment entrance. With a resigned sigh, Dee was right by his side.

  “How do you know she’s home?”

  “I called.”

  “You what?” Foolish man. “Do you at least have your phone set to block your number so Amelia can’t call you back?”

  “Yes, Dee.” Linc sighed. “I learned long ago how to keep my phone number private. My methods don’t always work, but I’m not a complete idiot.”

  The term unlisted number was a misnomer. The digits had to be on record somewhere. Hackers bypassed firewalls all the time. Dee had a few tricks she would share with Linc, her version of a wall in front of a wall. Right now, his phone was the least of her problems.

  “I can’t stop you.”

  “No. You can’t,” Linc agreed.

  Well, she could stop him. But the situation, while annoying, didn’t warrant physical force.

  He pressed the call button next to Amelia Moore’s apartment number.

  “Linc?” The voice through the speaker was breathy and eager.

  “Yes.”

  “Come on up.”

  The lock clicked, allowing Linc to enter.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked when she followed on his heels.

  “Silly question.” Dee rolled her eyes. “With you, obviously. And before you act as if I trampled on your precious male ego, use a bit of logic. You don’t know what Amelia has waiting for you.”

  “For example?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Dee patted her left side. “I have a gun.”

  “Perfect,” he muttered. “Unless she has a bazooka.”

  Linc wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t argue when she joined him in the elevator. The ride was made in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Dee would let him take the lead, say what he had to say, while she stayed out of the way—unless Amelia forced her hand.

  “Trouble is, you aren’t like most people, Dee.” Linc kept his gaze forward as he spoke. “You have the mind of a warrior, always planning for the worst.”

  “Because I learned the hard way what can happen if I let my guard down.”

  “What?” Filled with concern, Linc’s eyes met hers. “Tell me, Dee. Who hurt you?”

  Dee was tempted to let him pull her close, to unburden herself and clear some of the lingering darkness from her h
eart. She hesitated, not sure what to do. Then, the elevator doors opened.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Linc warned as he read the relief on her face. “I plan to ask again.”

  Maybe Dee would tell him. Maybe not.

  Amelia Moore’s apartment was at the end of a brightly lit hallway covered in dark carpet. The scent of spicy potpourri filled Dee’s nose. Pleasant enough, but not to her taste. She preferred the air she breathed free from any kind of artificial odor.

  As Linc rang the bell, Dee moved to the side, out of peephole range. She would show herself after the door opened. Amelia was bound to be unhappy once she realized her dreams weren’t about to come true. No reason to piss her off sooner than necessary.

  “Linc. I waited so long. But I knew you’d come.” Amelia let out a girlish giggle. “Come in. I made lunch.”

  “We aren’t here on a social call.”

  “We? You aren’t alone?” Amelia’s smile dimmed several watts when Dee stepped into view. Linc took Dee’s hand before he crossed the threshold, causing the model’s glossy pink lips to flatline. “Who is she?”

  “My girlfriend.”

  Dee didn’t know who was more surprised by Linc’s revelation. By a hair, she gave the edge to Amelia.

  Looking Dee up and down, whatever she saw seemed to rally her spirits.

  “Her? I don’t believe you. She isn’t your type. She isn’t anyone’s type outside a biker gang.”

  Better women than Amelia Moore had turned their nose up at Dee. The slight used to sting. Now, she was too comfortable in her skin to let anyone leave their mark on her sense of worth.

  “You don’t know what kind of woman I like because you don’t know me. You never will.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Amelia dismissed Linc’s claim with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. She smoothed the fabric of her form-fitting dress, wiggling her hips. “I wore red, your favorite color. I made your favorite foods, no fat, no gluten.”

  “No flavor,” Dee said under her breath.

  Linc gave her hand a warning squeeze.

  “I want you to understand how much I love you. How devoted I am.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I would do anything for you, Linc. Anything. Just ask.”

  “Anything?”

  Amelia nodded.

  “Stop, Amelia. Stop the emails, the obsessing. Everything. Just stop.”

  Amelia’s lips quivered. Dee didn’t believe the act for a second, but she was impressed by the one perfect tear running down the model’s cheek.

  “You aren’t serious,” Amelia whimpered in a little girl voice.

  “If you don’t leave me alone, I will contact the FBI.”

  “You don’t want me because of her? That tattooed skank?”

  Whatever Linc might have said, he wasn’t given a chance. In a flash, weepy Amelia morphed into a woman possessed. She threw herself, claws bared, not at Linc, but at Dee.

  Big mistake. Linc would have taken her gender into account. Dee had no such scruples. However, because she was stronger and better prepared for a fight, at the last second, she pulled her punch.

  Even a half-jab to the jaw put Amelia flat on her ass. Tears fell in earnest, more from shock than pain, as long lines of black mascara dripped from her eyelids to her chin.

  A beautiful young woman. However, Dee noted with smug satisfaction, Amelia Moore did not cry pretty.

  Linc didn’t need Dee to tell him they needed to leave—they never should have been there in the first place. She kicked herself all the way to the elevator for not thinking of a way to stop the meeting. Yes, Linc was determined. She should have insisted harder.

  “Nice right hook,” Linc said when they were headed toward the lobby.

  “Dumb, dumb, dumb,” Dee muttered. “You realize she might have taped everything.”

  “Good. Gives us proof she’s off her freaking rocker.”

  “Video can be edited.” A fact Dee should have thought of sooner. “Amelia, crazy or not, could have a plan in place to exploit your visit.”

  Dee could tell the moment when the full implications dawned on Linc. His jaw tightened, his eyes went from bright to stormy blue, and, he let loose one succinct expletive.

  “Fuck.”

  “Amen.”

  “Can’t put the Genie back in the bottle,” Linc shrugged. He met her gaze, and, appropriate or not, grinned. “What now?”

  “Now you want my advice?” Dee sighed. “If you’d done what I asked in the first place, we wouldn’t need a new plan.”

  “Didn’t take you for an I told you so kind of person.”

  “Make no mistake,” Dee said. “I can be as petty as the next person.”

  “No kidding,” he chuckled.

  Linc had the look of a kid who knew he’d messed up but couldn’t dredge up an ounce of contrition. All Dee could think was, been there, done that. As much as she wanted to kiss the adorable living daylights out of him, for his sake, she had to act like the grownup in the room.

  “Before you do anything else, call your lawyer. Then, get in your fancy car, drive home, and stay there.”

  Surprise knocked the smile off Linc’s face.

  “How much trouble am I in?”

  “None, for now,” Dee assured him. “We need to be proactive. Get a lawyer to take out a restraining order against Amelia Moore. The emails alone should be enough. For added weight, I’ll make a statement about today’s meeting.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the nearest police station.” Dee checked the street sign. “Which is within handy walking distance.”

  “You plan to turn yourself in for protecting yourself from a lunatic?” Linc shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Proactive, remember? I’ll give my statement directly to the police in case Amelia decides to press charges.”

  “I should go with you.”

  Dee was nobody, not worth a second look. Linc was a different story. The last thing he needed was his picture splashed across the internet as he walked into a cop shop. Innocent or not, before his publicist could get the truth out, the tabloids would have a speculation field day.

  “Don’t worry about me, I have a few friends in the department. I’ll be in and out in an hour, tops.”

  “You promise to let me know if something goes wrong?”

  So serious, so sweet. Dee had to smile.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Dee.” Linc took her hand before she could leave. “Promise me.”

  “If a roadblock comes up that I can’t bulldoze my way through, I’ll call you.”

  “You better.”

  “I don’t break my promises,” Dee assured him. “Two more things before I go. You need a bodyguard.”

  “You barely gave her a tap, and she crumpled like a piece of tissue paper.” Enjoying the memory, Linc smirked. “I should be able to hold my own against Amelia Moore without any help.”

  “She could get someone else to do her dirty work.” Dee could tell Linc wasn’t convinced. Time for a little emotional blackmail. “Think about the hell your family would go through if you were attacked. A mother shouldn’t have to visit her son in the hospital—or worse.”

  Dee couldn’t be certain she chose the right button to push until Linc’s expressive clear-blue eyes turned a stormy shade of gray. Jackpot.

  “Dirty pool, Dee.”

  Wasn’t the first time she went low for the greater good, wouldn’t be the last time.

  “I’ll talk to my people about the possibility of a bodyguard.”

  Nodding, Dee hid her smug smile under a serious frown. Linc might not realize she’d won, but she had. No reason to gloat.

  She zipped her jacket all the way to her neck, stuffing her hands in the pockets as protection against the sudden downturn in temperature.

  “Call your lawyer.”

  “Wait,” Linc said as she turned to leave. “You said t
wo more things. The bodyguard was one. What’s the other?”

  “I know you called me your girlfriend for Amelia’s benefit. But, to be clear, I’m not, nor will I ever be.”

  “Did I ask?”

  “For your sake, and mine, I want to make certain you never do.”

  “Okay.”

  Dee didn’t expect Linc to fall to his knees and beg her to change her mind. But a tiny bit of regret for what might have been would be nice.

  “We’re good?” she asked.

  “Can we still have sex?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then, yes,” Linc grinned. “We’re good.”

  Nothing, Dee thought as she jogged across the street, ever got between a man and his libido. Before she turned the corner, she checked over her shoulder and found Linc, head bent, his phone to his ear. As he talked, he slid behind the wheel of his car.

  At least he had his priorities straight. Now that Dee knew she could count on Linc to take care of things on his side, the rest was up to her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ~~~~

  DEE FELT AT home surrounded by law enforcement. They, like their military counterparts, were charged with a difficult, often thankless job. For the most part, they were good, honest men and women who took the words serve and protect seriously.

  Dee had lucked out when she walked into the squad room and found an old friend about to go on duty. She met Lieutenant Ron Mazak shortly after she earned her P.I. license. He was a sergeant then, and like her, eager to make his mark.

  Their respect for each other grew during a kidnapping case. The friendship formed when, working together, they returned the little boy to his family, safe and sound.

  Another officer might have given Dee a hard time. Ron trusted her word. Thanks to him, her statement would be on file if needed, and as a bonus, she had a fifteen-year veteran who would vouch for her veracity.

  “Thanks for the express service.”

  “Anytime.”

  Not just words, Ron meant what he said. Dee felt the same. Anytime, anyplace, any reason, they had each other’s backs.

  “I can’t believe Nina is in the first grade. Seems like only yesterday she just started to walk.” Dee admired the picture of a bright-eyed six-year-old, proudly displayed on Ron’s desk. “She’s a cutie.”