Seduced by a Dangerous Man Page 6

  “Fine. I’m in. I want to nail that bastard’s hide to the wall.”

  I jumped to my feet, my mind instantly going into preparation mode. “Put on dark clothes. I’ll load all the stuff we need into a bag.”

  I gathered up everything I could think of, including tape, putty, spare batteries, and all my gadgets. Twenty minutes later, we were both ready. Rob delved into his pocket. “Haven’t tried these out,” he said, handing me a wadded plastic bag with something heavy at the center.

  I shook the bag open and stared inside at two black plastic ovals, the size and shape of bullets. “What are they?”

  “Cameras,” he said. “Two of them. They each hold a week of data. Figured we could plant them somewhere at Henry’s, then go back for them.”

  I grinned in surprise. “Maybe we are related after all.”

  He smiled. “They’re actually yours. I bought them for you for Christmas a few years ago, then I opened them. This girl I was dating was curious, but we never even used them.”

  “TMI.” I stared down at them. They were so compact. “That was the year you gave me tube socks, wasn’t it?”

  A furrow appeared between his eyebrows. “I couldn’t find the packaging. The girl wouldn’t return my texts—”

  “Huge surprise,” I said.

  “And when she did, she told me she’d thrown away some trash that day,” he continued, ignoring my interjection. “By then everything else was closed, and I didn’t want to give them to you like this. I was going to buy a jewelry box, but they got buried in the back of my closet and I forgot. Plus you seemed so happy with the socks.” He snickered.

  “I knew you were broke. I was trying to be nice.” I hugged the bag close to me. “Exactly what I wanted! Best Christmas present ever, even if it’s three years late.”

  Rob broke into a huge grin.

  I had never been to Henry’s place, but Rob knew the way. “It’s only a few minutes from your diner,” Rob said.

  I knew. Rob had told me when I first got the job. Hearing it again still made me shudder. “If I could have gotten a job anywhere else, I would have. Maybe I should have expanded my search radius to the next town over.” I fell silent, remembering the night I’d almost hit the road for good.

  Henry lived in a manicured suburban development about a half hour from the condo. It was the kind of area where I couldn’t park on the street without attracting notice.

  I looped around, took another pass. The back of Henry’s house overlooked a wooded area. “What’s back there?”

  “A creek. Good for privacy once we’re back there, but we have to come at the house from the front.”

  The management, or someone, had razed any trees near the excessively wide streets, so places to hide were scarce. And the individual houses were lit up on the outside like they were on display.

  We found some overflow visitor parking.

  “Not the sort of neighborhood I imagined for Henry. He seems mostly unconcerned with image,” I mused. “I expected something more… working class, maybe.”

  “He bought it from his parents when they retired to Florida,” Rob said.

  I glanced at him. “You have to do something about your hair. It’s too vivid. Unfortunately for you, all I have is this.” I handed him the wig.

  He took it, dangling it on the edge of his index finger. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “What about your hair?”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s recognizable.”

  “But my hair is dark. If light shines on it, it’s not a flashing sign.”

  He twirled the wig. “And this isn’t?”

  “You’re probably the only redheaded guy Henry knows. If one of his neighbors happens to see us nosing around—”

  “Can’t I just wear a hat?”

  I flicked at his bangs. “If you’ve got a hairnet handy, why not?” I frowned. “Maybe I should drop you off closer to his house. I can walk over alone.”

  “We stick together,” Rob said, working the wig onto his scalp. I shoved the fringes of his fine hair under the wig. “Ouch,” he said.

  “Wait till you take it off. Let’s go.”

  We got out of the truck and headed one direction, then cut across a huge lawn that felt like padded carpet under my boots. A dog started barking inside the adjacent house, its yaps high-pitched, irritating.

  Getting to Henry’s house definitely was stressful. I felt exposed, and we didn’t even see anyone. With all the houses so large, busybody residents had plenty of windows to be accidentally looking out of at any given time—though only a small portion of them faced in any particular direction.

  Hell, I’d take comfort where I could get it. Especially after it took me forty-five seconds to set up the motion detector at the bottom of Henry’s driveway. There was nothing to shield me but a mailbox on a post, and nerves plus general rustiness had made me clumsy.

  I hooked the receiver onto one of my belt loops and hurried up the driveway to join Rob.

  “Back door is locked,” he said.

  We searched under rocks and earthenware planters for a key. I wasn’t above breaking a window, but that was a last resort.

  I tapped on the underside of one of the window ledges and felt metal. “Jackpot.” I peeled the key away and unlocked the door, pushed it open.

  The slow, flashing light of a security system stopped me cold. Disabling them wasn’t part of my repertoire.

  “Excuse me,” Rob said confidently. He stepped forward and pushed a four-digit code. The light flashed green.

  “How?”

  “Henry changed the code at the office twice, and both started with 42 and ended in 86.” He shrugged modestly. “I’ve been over here, and I saw him push in a four, and I also knew there were only three after it.”

  “Impressive,” I said.

  He’d pulled out a penlight and now he flicked it on, sweeping it around the outdated but large kitchen. “My hunch is we’ll find his office either in that room behind the den or upstairs in one of the guest bedrooms.”

  We did a quick sweep of the first floor. The house smelled like Henry. Faintly, the result of years of exposure, no doubt. Still, it made me feel like he was there, watching, and I shuddered.

  We went up to the second floor. I paused in front of the master bedroom. It was spacious and tidy. Henry had a large bed, rather low to the floor, with cherry tree print bedding. It was surprisingly pleasant. I had to admit I was a little jealous.

  I hurried to catch up with Rob, who was methodically working his way down the hall.

  “Was the place so clean when you were here before?” I asked.

  Rob opened a door, looked in the room, closed the door again. “Can’t remember,” he said. He paused. “But I don’t think so.”

  We stared at each other as the meaning of that hit home. “It’s still pretty early,” I said. “Dinner, drinks… it takes time.”

  “Unless she’s a sure thing,” Rob countered. We sped up our pace.

  “Is he dating someone seriously?” I asked as we finally found the office.

  “No idea.”

  My eyes darted around the small room. Big, solid desk with an outdated desktop computer, two dark wood filing cabinets. Behind the desk were three matching bookcases, two tall, a short one between them. Atop the shorter one were old photos of Henry in uniform.

  If only there were a sign that said “Proof of illegal activities here!” The office wasn’t nearly as orderly as the more date-centric parts of the house. That would make it easier to hide our tracks.

  “You look through the filing cabinet,” I said. “I’ll set up one of the cameras.”

  Rob nodded, put the flashlight between his teeth and crouched. I flipped on my light and mentally calculated the best angle to cover the computer as well as the majority of the desk. I turned the camera on and wedged it between two gilded, leather-bound tomes. It wasn’t ideal; the glare from the large windows might wash everything out during daylight hours. Bu
t I didn’t know for sure.

  The motion detector alert vibrated.

  “Hush,” I said. Rob stopped flipping through folders and looked at me expectantly.

  I tapped the receiver hanging from one of my belt loops.

  He shook his head, his eyes wide. He hadn’t heard a vehicle either. We were quiet a few moments longer, listening for slamming car doors.

  “I’m gonna check,” I said. I hurried down the hallway toward the side of the house and quickly ducked into two different guest bedrooms, peering hard at the long driveway outside.

  No car, but I caught movement, a flash of white. Deer.

  Well, at least I knew the sensors were working.

  Since I was there, I took a fast moment to look for anything that seemed like it might yield something useful, but I came up empty. I went back to Rob.

  “We’re clear,” I said.

  “So I figured. Haven’t found anything yet.”

  “I’d better set up the other camera. What about the dining room table—you think he works there?”

  “Sorry. It would be a guess.” He gestured at the file cabinets. “There’s a lot to go through here.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” I dug out a bit of putty and headed downstairs. As I crept through Henry’s deserted house, it suddenly hit me… this was payback, and it felt damned good. Henry had violated my space several times, and now I was evening things out, correcting the imbalance. Yin and yang.

  There wasn’t a lot to work with in the dining room. I considered fixing the camera to the back of a lampshade, but suppose he jolted it while turning the switch? I surveyed the dining room again. The walls were mostly bare except for several obligatory framed family photos and a few flat mirrors.

  But I liked the idea of having one camera on each floor. Even if I couldn’t catch anything on video, the audio might pick up something interesting.

  Or disgusting. I’d have to remember to fast forward through the first few hours.

  I contemplated the modest glass chandelier hanging above the table. It was the best bet. I rolled out a bit of putty and patted it over the back of the camera. It was already switched on. I stood on a chair and looked up, daunted. The ceilings were freaking high, and I had to stand on tiptoe to reach the chandelier. Finally I placed one of my feet on the table.

  My belt loop vibrated, startling me so much that I swayed and nearly fell to the floor.

  A flash of headlights cut through the white, sheer curtains, sliding along the edges of the drawn blinds. I heard an engine, not quiet. Henry’s old pickup. I was so used to seeing him in the stalkermobile that I’d forgotten about his truck. The slam of a filing cabinet drawer told me Rob had heard it, too.

  I collected myself and quickly positioned the camera. I didn’t dare leave without checking how well it was camouflaged. My beam of light swept across it. Not bad.

  I hopped down as I heard a door slam. A second slam followed. Henry wasn’t alone. I brushed off the seat of the chair and carefully slid it back under the table.

  “Rob,” I whispered in a hoarse stage whisper. I knew he’d heard the vehicle, so where was he? I started up the stairs but then heard voices along the side of the house. Henry must have parked halfway up the driveway.

  Not enough time to make it upstairs and then out the front door.

  Remembering the alarm, I ran for the front. My fingers were so slippery, and oh, the beeps sounded loud as firecrackers. The alarm engaged moments before I heard the jingle of keys. The voices outside were still relaxed—or so it seemed, because I was sprinting for the back.

  I wasn’t going to make it. They were going to see me… the house was too freaking big. But I did, somehow, and I stood in the kitchen, waiting for the alarm to disable again so I could sneak out.

  But it didn’t. It kept flashing red.

  And then lights turned on several rooms away. Henry was inside.

  With a panicked flash of awareness, I realized he must have had it wired so he could disable only one entrance if he wanted.

  I didn’t dare punch in the code again. Too loud. I crept back as I heard heavy footsteps coming toward me.

  They paused, and Henry said, “I’ll take it.” The footsteps faded.

  I needed to hide. It was like being six years old. I’d hated playing hide-and-go-seek. If I couldn’t see light, I would freak out within seconds.

  There was the kitchen table, but hiding under there would only work if they didn’t actually look at it. I didn’t dare go into what I assumed was the basement. No way.

  A narrow door, ajar, was next to the basement door. I eyed it. It was a pantry, likely deep enough to hide me, but I didn’t want to go in there.

  “Wine it is,” Henry said. His smarmy voice spurred me into action.

  I slid into the narrow pantry and eased the door partially closed after me. A little light came in to keep me company. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Long wooden poles leaned against the wall next to me. Mop and broom, I assumed. I was lucky I hadn’t knocked into them when squeezing in.

  The kitchen light flashed on brightly, throwing too much light into my hiding space. I squinted against the painful burn in my eyes and held my breath.

  Henry stood not far away, looking in the other direction. He straightened the chairs in front of the kitchen table, and I saw him swipe the tabletop with the side of his hand. If he looked this way…

  But he stepped out of sight. I didn’t heave a sigh of relief because I had simply stopped breathing several minutes earlier. Or at least it felt like I had.

  And then the door slammed the rest of the way shut.

  I was so startled that I lurched, and one of the wooden poles slid loudly against the wall, crashing into the shelves behind me.

  This was it. Henry was going to find me. Once he did, it was over. I was going to jail, and it would be legitimate.

  Whatever happened, I needed to keep Rob out of this. Henry wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops on both of us, and I couldn’t allow Rob to go down with me.

  I watched the sliver of light that peeked through the bottom of the closed pantry door—my lifeline, the only thing separating me from a panic attack—and I waited for it to turn dark with Henry’s approaching shadow.

  But he didn’t open the door. I heard him moving around the room, opening a cabinet, the clink of the bottoms of wineglasses touching a counter, the sound of a cork being wrested from the tight mouth of a wine bottle.

  “You want something to nibble on?” he yelled out.

  A woman’s voice said something incoherent.

  “Can’t hear you!” Henry yelled back. Lazy bastard.

  Footsteps approached. “Maybe crackers or something,” she said. She sounded… not insane. That surprised me. But then, what did an insane person sound like? “Thank you,” she said.

  “To new friends,” Henry said. Their glasses clinked, and I rolled my eyes so hard that it actually hurt.

  A hand brushed the door. I tensed my muscles, ready to bolt. With a little luck, I could make it out the back door before Henry pulled himself together enough to react. He would see me, sure, but I would just deny everything.

  “Forget the crackers,” the woman said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” she purred. “I’d rather nibble on you.”

  I heard slurping kissing sounds, a low male growl, a woman’s giggle. Then the light clicked off.

  Their footsteps faded.

  The second they were gone, I felt a scream building in my chest. I wanted them to come back! Only the fear of what would happen to Rob kept me quiet.

  I felt woozy. The adrenaline overdose from nearly getting caught was running headlong into my fear of enclosed, dark spaces. Henry and his date might still be in the living room, but I couldn’t wait.

  I pushed my fingers on the handle, doing my best to keep quiet even though I wanted to shove the door open and run.

  The door didn’t open. I pushed harder.

&n
bsp; It was… locked.

  The breath I gulped in wasn’t nearly enough to stop my vision from going spotty. Immediately, I tried to convince myself that I was fine, that I was in the open and had merely closed my eyes.

  But this darkness was different. It attached to my skin, my lips, the inside of my nose and mouth, my lungs. Millions of cloying little demons with suckers for mouths. It had weight, and it was suffocating me as surely as if I had been shrink-wrapped.

  I had no control over the high-pitched whimper that escaped my throat. My eyes squeezed tighter, and the constricting darkness squeezed, too, like an enormous snake, waiting for me to exhale, then taking advantage.

  Snake. It made me think of Corbin, of rattlesnakes and king snakes. Corbin. Corbin…

  My chest suddenly loosened, just a notch, but enough for me to pull in a breath. I knew what was coming next… more breaths, faster and faster until I hyperventilated and passed out.

  Which wouldn’t be so bad, to be passed out and freed from this. Except… Henry.

  I slid down carefully as my chest expanded suddenly. The fresh air went straight to my head. It was dizzying. Somehow, I ended up on the floor, propped up against the wall. My flailing brain retained just enough of a handle on the situation to realize that I hadn’t made too much noise.

  My hands cupped over my mouth. They were a poor substitute for a paper bag, which had never worked anyway. I dredged up the memory of poor Mrs. Rico, the anxiety specialist who had tried her best to help me as a child—but it was too late for that. This was worse than being in a car in a snowstorm.

  I was locked in a dark closet.

  And I needed to get a grip.

  Corbin’s voice came faintly toward me. “Are you afraid of the dark?”

  It was a memory, I knew, but I latched onto him with every ounce of strength I possessed. I could see his soft, full lips, the corners raised in a pleasant smile. “Are you afraid?” he repeated softly.

  ~~~

  “It’s not a difficult question.” Corbin turned toward me, smiling gently. He had pulled off his overcoat while we were checking in, and he tossed it lightly over a handsome wingback chair.

  “No,” I scoffed. “Are you?”