Bad Hair Day

Bad Hair Day

Bad Hair Day Copyright 2006 © Nancy Darryl All rights reserved. Cover layout: Copyright 2006 © Lee Emory All rights reserved. Treble Heart Books 1284 Overlook Dr. Sierra Vista, AZ 85635-5512 http://www.trebleheartbooks.com Printed and published in U.S.A. The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to persons, whether living or dead, is strictly coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning to a computer disk, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without express permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN: 1-932695-30-3

Thank you for choosing A Treble Heart Books selection

Acknowledgements Loving thanks to Peter, Alison and Jessica, for a thousand things, but mostly for believing in me. My thanks also to Lena, because part of you is in this book and to Cathy Walker for your help with the karate scenes.

Dedication

For my father. “Home is the sailor,home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.” [From Requiem, Robert Louis Stevenson]

Bad Hair Day Nancy Darryl Treble Heart Books

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One T

here was a strange, moaning lump in the back seat of my electric blue Delta 88. Instead of sinking my teeth into a greasy cheeseburger and sucking on an impossibly thick chocolate shake, I stood shivering in the middle of West North Street, Normal, Illinois, wrestling with my options. The engine sputtered with its door wide open, its roomy back end jutting out awkwardly into the road. In my haste to pull over and escape whatever or whoever had possessed my car, I hadn’t been fussy about how I parked. The October wind prowled through the semi-naked limbs of a large maple tree edging the shoulder, and tossed small whirlpools of musty, dead leaves around me. “Hannah, you’re an idiot,” I muttered, since a cell phone that worked might be the only thing preventing me from becoming the victim of a grisly murder or a vicious rape, but I’d forgotten to charge it again. It lay buried at the bottom of my shoulder bag on the front seat, anyway. Running to safety

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was another option, but this section of West North was deserted, and it was at least a mile to Jimmy John’s Best Burger, where I’d picked up my take out dinner minutes ago. I couldn’t stand in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to come along. After nine o’clock, the town of Normal closed its doors and rolled up its sidewalks, its citizens already home, cozied up to their television sets. As the minutes ticked by, my courage grew. I decided to meet my Fate alone, since I was pretty sure that if a crazed attacker really lurked in my back seat, he would have made his move by now. Besides, chances are, he wouldn’t be moaning. I took a deep breath, crept back to the car and peeked through the window. The lump was definitely human, and when it moved I nearly left my Pumas on the pavement. “You’ve got the wrong car, go sleep it off somewhere else,” I demanded. No movement. “Ha-ha. Funny joke. You’re a little early for Halloween, aren’t you?” Silence. The light from the open door lit up the interior and I leaned forward to get a better look. I cringed at what I saw. “Oh, Jesus.” A crumpled body lay wedged into the back seat, and from the size of the cowboy boots, it was male. He could have won a Heath Ledger look-alike contest. He was tall, with an athletic build, a square jaw and shaggy hair, except he looked like he’d been run over by a cab, twice. A puffy, purple slit took up the space where his right eye should have been, his shirtsleeve was missing, and his exposed arm was covered in blood. “Hey, mister. Can you hear me?” I yelled, figuring maybe his ears weren’t in the best of shape, either.

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“Harley,” the man moaned. I watched him wince and twitch, and after some hesitation, climbed into the driver’s seat on my knees, facing him. From this vantage point, my pathetic, semi-conscious passenger didn’t seem so sinister. “Harley? Is that your name?” He groaned. His first name? His last? Or maybe Harley was the name of the person who’d done this to him? My horror-filled sympathy became fear. This man could die in the back seat of my Oldsmobile if I didn’t do something, fast. I’d feel responsible. I feel that way a lot, even when things aren’t my fault. I twisted in the seat, groped for the car door and slammed it shut. Then I backed up, shifted into drive and stepped on the gas. The scrape of the exhaust pipe on the curb told me I’d taken the corner too sharply, but I didn’t slow down. I was flying high on an adrenaline rush. I roared south along Main Street and turned left onto East Emerson. I peeled left again, crossed Franklin Avenue and rolled to a stop in front of the emergency department of Bromenn Regional Medical Centre, surprising two orderlies having a smoke break. Not a very favorable image for the health care industry. I spilled out of the car. “Help!” The orderlies threw down their cigarettes and leapt into action. Before I knew it, a stretcher appeared and they hauled the man through the sliding glass doors and into the bosom of medical care. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked the nurse at the desk as they wheeled the man out of sight. The nurse squinted up at me, her brow creasing as she looked me over. “Are you a relative?” “No.”

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She stared at me accusingly. What, did she think I was the one who’d beaten the man up? A slender brunette dressed in fashionably ripped jeans and a leather-trimmed, vintage, fake leopard coat hardly fit the bill as a person who could cause someone that much damage. “A friend, then?” “No, I found him in the back seat of my car.” The nurse frowned. “How did he get there?” “I said I found him.” From the hard lines on the woman’s face, it was clear I wasn’t making her shift any easier. “I need your name,” she said. “Hannah Hailstone.” “Address?” “Twenty-five East College Avenue. You know, the health food store.” “Huh?” “I live above Herb & Al’s Herbals, the health food store. I’m the manager.” The nurse studied me blankly. “Uh-huh. Phone number?” I told her. “The police will want to speak to you.” “How long will that take? Look, I just want to make sure he’ll be all right, and then I have to get going. I’m already late.” The phone beside her buzzed and she looked relieved at the interruption, which gave her an excuse to ignore me. I wandered away from the desk and glanced around. The waiting room was nearly empty. Two old ladies sat in the corner, whispering to each other. One of them had her foot propped up on a chair. Against the other wall sat a wizened, wrinkled man wearing filthy clothes, as though he’d waded through a swamp. From the stench of him, my guess probably wasn’t far off. I made a great show of scratching my nose with the back of my

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hand, because it seemed more polite than pinching my nostrils against the smell. He gave me a toothless grin, and belched. Nice. The desk nurse turned her back to me and clung to the telephone receiver, nodding occasionally. Patience isn’t one of my virtues. I edged closer to the swinging doors marked No Admittance and slid through. Glass cubicles took up the wall to my left; to the right, a long wooden counter supported racks of metal charts and enclosed a computer workstation. No doctors or nurses in sight. It was a far cry from the emergency departments on television. Voices drifted from the last cubicle, so I inched toward the sound, pausing when I reached another set of doors. Unfortunately, an orderly pushing a stretcher heavily laden with portable oxygen tanks chose that exact moment to burst through the doorway, and rammed me squarely on my left hip. The advantage of getting run over by a stretcher is obvious. All I had to do was lean over, and I was ready to be transported to the x-ray department. “Holy crap, sorry, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” I managed a half smile and a half grimace and nodded, rubbing my sore hipbone. “My fault,” I said between clenched teeth. “I’m not supposed to be here. I just want to know how that guy’s doing, the one they just brought in.” The orderly, who looked like Doogie Howser, flushed. “I’m not really supposed to say anything.” “I know, I’m not a relative, and you’re not the doctor, “ I whined pathetically, “but geeze, I figure you owe me something for ramming me with that thing.” His eyeballs darted around furtively. “Okay, but you didn’t hear it from me.” I gave him the thumbs up. “Hear what?” “The doc says he probably broke an arm, but they gotta do

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x-rays to be sure. Said it doesn’t look like there’s any internal injuries or broken ribs, just a lot of bruising. He’s got a wicked shiner. I mean, he got punched in the eye, but the doc says he’ll be fine. They gave him some painkillers, and they’re gonna keep him overnight for observation.” I thanked the kid, limped to the swinging doors, and peeked through. Incredibly, the nurse was still faced the other direction, glued to the phone. I figured I’d done what any Good Samaritan would have. If the police needed to find me, they could. I was drained and my stomach demanded a cheeseburger. I stole out to the parking lot, climbed into my car and drove home, wondering what Harley my mysterious passenger looked like without a black eye and split lips.

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Two T

he rattle of my living room blinds stirred me from a deep sleep, and I listened to the morning train rumble by like a whistling, heaving dragon. Herb & Al’s Herbals is situated a block from the train tracks, but I don’t mind living so close to a train. I can set my watch by it. It’s my wake-up call, my signal for a granola bar at noon, and my heads up that it’s time to settle in for an evening of reality TV dating shows. It’s an organizational tool, like a Palm Pilot, only low tech. My apartment wasn’t fancy, but it was home, and filled with knickknacks and prized possessions collected during my twenty-five year lifetime. My couch was my pride and joy because it was incredibly comfortable and I’d gotten an excellent deal on it from my cousin. I’d fallen asleep on it again, and King Arthur, my cranky tabby, scowled at me from his perch on the pine chest that doubled as a coffee table. He wouldn’t come any closer, because I’d used a massive, yellow stuffed bulldog for a pillow. I won it at the state fair when I was ten, and it intimidated the hell out of King.

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I pushed to a sitting position. “Are you hungry, King?” King flicked his tail in reply. Stupid question. I shoved my feet into furry pig slippers and padded to the kitchen with King at my heels. “Don’t give me attitude,” I said as I shimmied through the colorful beaded curtains between the living room and kitchen. “I know I was late coming home last night, but it wasn’t my fault.” I glanced at the counter and shuddered at the sight of my leftover dinner. By the time I’d arrived home from the hospital, the grease on my hamburger and fries had hardened into the saturated fat it actually was, and the meal had definitely lost its appeal. Or maybe all the excitement about Harley had made me lose my appetite. “I had a good reason for being late. I rescued a man from the back seat of my car,” I said as I opened a can of cat food. “So chill.” I placed the bowl of cat food on the floor. The King almost took my fingers off in his haste to chow down. I made coffee and poured myself a cup, thinking about Harley. I’d canceled my evening plans to finish off the current Nancy Drew Mystery I was reading—I owned a complete, vintage, hardcover collection—because I couldn’t concentrate. I had a mystery of my own to think about, and I’d tossed and turned most of the night, doing just that. After pouring a second cup of coffee, I made my way downstairs to the shop, still dressed in flannel pajamas. I wasn’t worried about bumping into any customers. Nobody ever banged on our door first thing in the morning, demanding herbal tea and low-fat yogurt. I didn’t need to rush, since I’d spent most of yesterday doing

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inventory, surrounded by organic tofu, ground flax seed and cold-pressed canola oil, and was treating myself to a morning off. I knew Tiffany, my assistant, had already opened the shop. I’ve never met a more reliable eighteen year-old. Tiffany’s in her senior year of high school, but probably not for much longer. I never see her doing any homework. She works evenings and weekends. She loves her job, even comes in early some days. I suspect she isn’t very happy at home, and uses the shop to get away from her parents and to neck with her boyfriend, Joel. “Morning.” I clutched my coffee mug tighter when I saw Joel and Tiffany behind the counter. They were plastered so close together, I couldn’t tell where Joel ended and Tiffany began. “Joel, how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t work here. Stay on this side of the counter.” Lord, deliver me from teenage boys. They’re like slobbery puppies that can’t get enough affection. Cute enough, but high maintenance and brimming with testosterone. I’ve never seen Joel’s hair, so I’m not sure if he has any. He wears a skin-tight baseball cap backwards on his head. What he lacks in hair, he makes up for in pants. They’re low and baggy enough to fit three people inside them. Joel finished nuzzling Tiffany’s neck, untangled himself, and gave me an impish grin. “Hey, Boss. Take it easy. I’m just sayin’ goodbye.” “Don’t call me Boss. I’m not Bruce Springsteen.” “Man, you’re cranky in the morning.” “Joel got a job,” Tiffany chirped. “Doing what?” “Pumpin’ gas,” Joel explained. “My old man fixed it for me. The hours sorta suck, but the money’s pretty good.” He planted one last kiss on Tiffany’s lips and swaggered toward

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the front door. “I’ll swing by after to pick you up, babe. Try not to miss me too much.” Tiffany giggled and blushed. “See you later, sweetie.” “Oh, please,” I growled as Joel left. “I haven’t eaten. All this lovey-dovey stuff is making me want to heave.” “Hannah, you so need a boyfriend.” It had been so long since I’d dated any guy worth remembering, I’d all but given up on finding one. The midwest wasn’t exactly teeming with handsome, eligible men. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Tiffany shook her blond, shoulder length hair at me. If I was still in high school and Tiffany was a classmate, I’d have to hate her. She was a natural beauty, with wide, cornflower blue eyes and a slender build. But she was hard to hate, because she was outgoing and friendly, and worked harder than I did. “You should eat more in the morning,” Tiffany said. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Like, you’re the manager, you of all people should know that.” She handed me a protein bar. “Try this. They’re to die for. They’ve got like, ginger, flax seed, oat bran and wheat germ.” “That’ll give me the runs.” “And you shouldn’t drink coffee. It’s like, so addictive. You should drink green tea.” “Hey, I gave up cigarettes and marijuana, what more do you want?” I checked my nails and pretended I didn’t care. Tiffany wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, but my back went up when people preached at me. “You really buy into this stuff, don’t you?” When I hired her, Tiffany assumed I was a guru of health food and organic products. She was very disappointed when she found out that I was actually a junk food junkie. Tiffany planted two expertly manicured hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you don’t. Like, since I started working here

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and eating more tofu, my skin finally cleared up. That is way cool.” I rubbed my cheeks. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with my skin. It’s my hair that’s the problem.” “Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but like, your hair does look dry.” In fact, my usually silky hair was a mass of split ends. Since yesterday, no amount of conditioner or gel had improved it. It worried me, and not because I was vain. My bad hair wasn’t just a cosmetic emergency, it was a bad omen. Some people relied on gut feelings or extra-sensory perception. My bad hair was a divining rod for disaster. My friends and family gave each other funny looks when I brought up the subject of my hair, but past experience had forced me to take it seriously. “Add some black currant oil to your diet,” Tiffany went on. “About like, 500 milligrams. It’s awesome for dry, brittle hair.” “My hair isn’t brittle, it’s frizzy. Look at it, it’s worse than yesterday. Anyway, black currant oil probably tastes lousy on French fries.” “I’ve got it.” Tiffany made a beeline for the shelf displaying handmade soap, aloe vera and aluminum-free deodorants. “We just got this stuff in. It’s a moisturizing treatment, containing only natural products.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to take a chance on doing further damage to my hair. Fortunetellers didn’t mess around with their crystal balls, did they? “I don’t know,” I said as Tiffany handed me the tube. “Like, it’s up to you, but you look like someone rubbed a balloon on your head.” I ignored her hurtful remark and changed the subject. “How’d it go last night?” “Okay. Sold lots of Echinacea and vitamin C, you know,

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like, cold season’s starting. Oh, and we need to order more soy milk.” I shuffled behind the counter and opened the cash register. “Do you need any more change? I’m going to the bank this morning.” “Don’t think so.” Yawning, I headed toward the stairs. “I forgot. The cops might be looking for me. Tell them I’ll be back later.” Tiffany frowned. “The cops?” “Long story.” I gave her the quick and dirty version. I’d found a human punching bag in my car, and had driven him to hospital. Well, it was really the only version I had. “The police may want to ask me a few questions, although I told the hospital staff everything I know. Which is nothing.” “Who is he?” “No idea,” I replied. “I’m going to the hospital later to see how he’s doing. Can you hold the fort?” Tiffany made a face. “Don’t I always?” I went back upstairs, threw on my favorite sweat pants and hooded sweatshirt, and went for my daily run. Autumn is my favorite season. Cool evenings great for sleeping, and warm days of pseudo-summer. The sky was cobalt and clear. The sun poured its remaining heat onto the roofs of parked cars, and the trees rattled the last of their leaves overhead. I’ve been to the ocean once in my lifetime; the rustling branches reminded me of waves lapping the shore. Panting but refreshed, I arrived back on my doorstep. I took a long, hot shower and poured half a tube of Tiffany’s moisturizer on my head. When I’d rinsed off, I wrapped my hair in a towel, shrugged on a velour bathrobe and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of fruit salad and whole-wheat toast. My craving for junk food generally started later in the day. I decided on baggy, drawstring pants, a long-sleeved tee-

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shirt and a blue fleece zippered jacket. Comfort was always at the top of my wardrobe requirements, beating out glamour every time. I plugged in the hairdryer and took the towel off my head. I stood transfixed in front of the mirror for several, heartstopping seconds before marching to the top landing. “Tiffany!” My hair was red, except red wasn’t an adequate description. It was more like the color of a pomegranate, with burgundy highlights. Tiffany bounded up the stairs two at a time, and wrinkled her nose when she saw me. Her lips curled in disgust. “Eeuw!” Tears burned my eyes. “What am I going to do? This is terrible. What’s in this stuff?” Tiffany flushed. “Well, there might have been some henna, but like, that shouldn’t make any difference.” “Well, obviously it did.” “Oh, come on, Hannah. It’s not that bad. It’s kinda funky. You can start like, a trend.” I scuffed the towel across my head. “That’s not the point. The point is this is a very, very bad omen.” “Huh?” “An omen. Whenever my hair goes weird like this, it…oh, never mind.” Tiffany slunk back downstairs, and I didn’t care that she probably felt responsible. I decided a little guilty conscious might make her work harder. It always made me work harder. I didn’t bother drying my hair, figuring that would only make it worse. I swept it off my face with a thick, black band, prayed the incident was a fluke, and left the apartment determined to ignore the streamer of red flags flapping in my head.

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The nurse at the emergency department desk couldn’t look me in the eye. Her fascinated gaze rested on my hair. I raised my chin a couple of inches and refused to be humiliated. “Hi. I’m here to see the guy I brought in last night.” Her gaze finally slid to mine. “Name?” “Hannah Hailstone.” Several moments passed while she clicked the computer keys in front of her. Finally she heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, there’s no Hailstone here.” I should have had another cup of coffee. My brain wasn’t fully awake. Or maybe it was the strange henna conditioner. “No, I know that. I’m Hannah Hailstone. The guy I brought in...well, actually, I don’t know what his name is. He had no ID. He was a John Doe.” The nurse glowered at me. “I can describe him,” I offered hopefully. “Black eye, missing shirt sleeve, bleeding arm. It looked broken to me, but I’m no expert.” Geeze, what else did she need? I mean how many people in Normal, fitting that description, ended up here in one night? The nurse’s fingers pounded the keyboard, faster and harder this time. “Room three thirteen,” she snarled a few moments later. I paused in front of door three thirteen. Even if I wasn’t a superstitious person, which I am, it was hard to miss the unlucky omen of having a hospital room with the number thirteen in it. If it weren’t for bad luck, this poor bugger would have no luck at all. I eased the door open. Parked against the wall to the left of the doorway was a stretcher that looked suspiciously like the

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one that had run me over the previous evening, oxygen tanks and all. Across the room, a doctor stood hunched over Harley in the bed. The doctor seemed surprised at the interruption. He twisted around to face me, knitting together two bushy eyebrows, which made one very large eyebrow. He had a protruding forehead and a heavyset jaw. Guess he was in the wrong line when they handed out handsome faces. “I’m sorry. Should I come back later?” “Get out.” he barked. Talk about your lousy bedside manner. Just before I turned to leave, I couldn’t help noticing that the burly medical man, whose lab coat was three sizes too small for him, sported a large snake tattoo on his hairy mitt of a hand. Maybe the medical schools weren’t as fussy as they used to be about whom they let in. I backed up and the door swung closed. Boy, that was weird. Twilight Zone material. I stood there twirling my reddish-purple split ends. My hair hadn’t failed me yet. I pushed the door open again. “Excuse me. What did you say your name was?” Dr. Burly swung around and growled, “Look, lady, we’re in the middle of something here.” I could’ve been mistaken, but he seemed to have his ham-sized hands around poor Harley’s neck. I’d never seen that particular maneuver used in anything other than a destructive way. I hate bullies. I assumed my most authoritative tone and blurted out my first thoughts before assembling all the facts. “You know what I think? I think that you’re no doctor. What do you say to that?” Dr. Burly sneered, revealing several rotten teeth. It had obviously been a while since he’d had a dental check up.

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“I say this,” he hissed, taking one paw off Harley’s throat long enough to reach into his pocket and pull out a gun. It was a beauty. Looked like a .22 caliber. With a silencer attached. I know guns ‘cause my Uncle Forrest has a gun collection. Either this doctor had unusual healing techniques, or I was right about him not being who he said he was. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach and all rational thought flew out of my head. I lunged at the gun. It was the last thing Dr. Burly expected: a frizzy-haired woman acting like a WWF wrestler. I’m happy to say it gave me a great advantage. So did my black belt in Karate. My right foot sailed upward and landed in the vicinity of Burly’s thumb. The gun sailed into the air. We both made a dive for it, but I was quicker. I grabbed the gun just as all three hundred pounds of Burly landed on top of me. Now I was at a distinct disadvantage. My lungs protested as all the air blew out of them at once. All he had to do was lie there until he squashed me like a bug. I tried to wiggle out from under him, but couldn’t move an inch. The cold metal of the gun dug into my navel. I’d be in really bad shape if the trigger should decide to go off. I heard a dull clanging sound, as though someone had hit something hollow. Burly’s weight shifted, and I could breathe again. I scrambled into the corner and rolled over, pointing the gun. Burly was out cold on the floor. Behind him Harley stood on wobbly legs, clutching an oxygen tank to his chest. We stared at each other in fascinated silence. Harley dropped the tank back onto the stretcher and staggered toward the door. The back of his hospital gown flapped open, revealing a butt that belonged in a beefcake calendar.

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I don’t have a problem being single. In my opinion men are more trouble than they’re worth sometimes, but I’m female, and I’m not dead yet. He groped for the door handle. He missed it by a mile, and bumped into the wall. I got to my feet, shoved the gun into my pants and zipped up my jacket. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You’re too sick to go anywhere.” Harley ignored me, so I grabbed him by the cast that covered his left arm up to his elbow and held on to him. “Hey, buddy. You’re too strung out to know what you’re doing. Come on, I’ll help you back to bed and get the nurse.” That got his attention. He clutched the front of my jacket with both hands, and I searched his face. One eye was still swollen shut. The other one was green, and fear blazed out of it, reminding me of an animal caught in a trap. His throat was bruised, thanks to Dr. Burly, and the cuts on his lip had stopped bleeding. He spoke carefully, moving his mouth as little as possible. “I can’t be here anymore. They’re gonna kill me.” “Who?” He nodded toward the burly lump on the floor. “Them.” I took a breath to clear my head. “Listen, we need to call the police.” “No. No cops, they’re in on it. Promise me.” “But—” “Please, just help me get out of here. Please!” The guy was the most pathetic sight I’d ever seen. My brain fought with my gut. I should get the nurse. The man was high on painkillers. He didn’t know what he was saying. But I’m a sucker for lost animals, stray cats, and victims of bullies. When I was a kid I dragged home every animal I saw that wasn’t on a leash or with someone, just in case they were

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lost. Once my mother had to haul me off the evil boy next door when I saw him hit a kid smaller than him. This beat up, one-eyed man with the cute behind certainly qualified as a victim. A few minutes later, wrapped in Dr. Burly’s lab coat, Harley and I hobbled down the corridor, trying to look like we belonged there. I held him firmly by the waist, since he kept listing to the left. A nurse approached from the other end of the hallway. I executed a ninety-degree turn, dragging my befuddled companion through the nearest door. We stood in the middle of a linen supply room. “I’m in deep shit,” I whispered to the green eye that glinted desperately at me. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I guess you could lose your job.” “My job?” “Aren’t you with security, or something?” “Security? No, I’m the one who drove you here. I found you in the back seat of my car.” “Oh.” Harley’s one eye widened. “Before I passed out I heard the doc say some chick brought me in. That was you?” He’d probably realized his bad luck wasn’t over. Instead of a security guard, he had ended up with yours truly. “That was me.” When we came out of the supply room, Harley had acquired a pair of OR scrub pants and blue OR booties, the kind the surgeons wear. My fleece jacket covered his shoulders. The coast was clear. It being the weekend, the hospital hallways were relatively quiet. We made it out the side door and reached my car a few moments later, but not before Harley tripped twice and banged his head getting into the passenger seat.

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“I can’t believe I just did that,” I groaned as I revved the motor. In my former life I was a student lawyer. Now I was a student criminal. I leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, and was pleasantly surprised by how good Harley smelled, like soap and lemons. “So you really think the cops are in on this?” “Man, you gotta love painkillers.” Harley gave me a silly smile. “Your hair rocks.” I frowned. Clearly something was amiss. No self-respecting male would think pomegranate hair rocked. “Did they give you a shot recently?” “Uh-huh. Right in the butt.” I forced the image of Harley’s naked butt out of my head and headed for the parking lot exit. I only had a few minutes before my passenger became completely incoherent. “Is your name really Harley?” “No. Cooper.” “Where are we going, Cooper?” “Have to get...my bike.” Oh, boy. “Look, if you don’t want cops, that’s fine. I don’t particularly like cops, either. But you can hardly stand, let alone drive. Forget your bike. I’ll take you home first. Is there someone to keep an eye on you?” “Just...let me sleep a minute.” Cooper’s head fell back against the seat, and his eye fluttered. “Cooper? “Mmmph.” As I turned right onto the main drag, the full weight of my passenger crushed my right shoulder. Cooper had passed out.

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Three “H

e looks like somebody tap danced on his face,” Joel said in a voice reverent with horror. Luckily, Joel had decided to lock lips with Tiffany once more and had dropped by the shop during his break. I have to admit he was a welcome sight, as he helped me drag Cooper out of the car, up the stairs and into my bed. Joel’s constant bragging about how buff he was, courtesy of an intense weight lifting program, had been no exaggeration. The kid was pretty strong. Cooper’s sun-streaked, chestnut hair fell over his brow, and his mouth was full, whether naturally or from the beating, I couldn’t tell. A day-old beard shadowed his jaw, where a dark purple bruise bloomed. I made a mental note to buy a T-bone steak for his swollen eye. We didn’t sell steak at Herb & Al’s. “Somebody beat the crap out of him, all right,” I said. “I think I’ll go get some pineapple enzyme capsules,” Tiffany pronounced, as if seeing a beaten man in my bed was a normal occurrence. “They promote the healing of tissue injuries.

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Totally amazing for bruising. He’ll also need Vitamin C, to strengthen the walls of his capillaries.” I rolled my eyes, but only because I was jealous I hadn’t thought of it first. “Fine, Tiffany, you do that. But you may have a problem getting him to swallow a pill, seeing as he’s out cold.” When I returned from the bathroom with a cool, damp cloth, Joel was still hovering. “How come he’s not waking up?” “Don’t you have some gas to pump?” “Are you kidding, man? This is way more happening.” I pressed the cloth to Cooper’s forehead and checked my watch. Cooper had been out an hour and a half. “He’ll be fine. He just needs to sleep off the medication.” I heard Tiffany charge back up the stairs, calling my name, and a few seconds later she burst into the room. “Hannah, there’s two policemen downstairs.” “What did you say to them?” “Nothing,” Tiffany panted. “I told them like, just a minute, and came to get you.” I ignored the dread slithering down my spine. “You two stay with Cooper, and don’t make a sound, I’ll be right back. Cooper doesn’t want the police involved.” “Why not?” Joel asked, his eyes as round as dinner plates. “How should I know? But a promise is a promise.” I left the two bewildered teens with Cooper and floated as calmly as I could down the stairs to the front door. My heart kicked me in the ribs when I saw two policemen waiting for me. “Hello, officers. What can I do for you?” The taller policeman sported a thatch of black hair that made him look like he had a Persian cat on his head. I tried not to stare, and although he glanced at my own frizzy mop, he kept his comments to himself.

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“We got your name and address from the hospital, ma’am. We understand you brought in an injured man last night?” “That’s right,” I replied as I rubbed my clammy palms together. “We need to ask you some questions.” “I already told the hospital everything I know,” I said. “This won’t take a minute.” Luckily business wasn’t booming at that moment. Not that it ever actually boomed. I sat on the stool behind the counter. The policemen leaned on it, facing me. Having dealt with cops in my previous life, it wasn’t hard for me to appear relaxed. I briefly considered telling them the truth that Cooper was really upstairs in my apartment, but decided to trust Cooper for a while longer. If he was right about the cops being in on whatever was going on, I didn’t want to be responsible for the shit hitting the fan. The interrogation took about five minutes. No, I didn’t know the man’s identity. Yes, I just found him in my car. I didn’t call an ambulance because it was quicker to drive him myself. “Were you aware that the man has disappeared from the hospital, ma’am?” I did my best impression of an innocent person. Eyebrows up, eyes wide, mouth a small O. “Disappeared?” “That’s right. This morning.” “But how can that be? I thought he was beaten up.” “He was, but apparently he either left on his own or someone accompanied him.” “Maybe he was kidnapped,” I speculated. The fact that they hadn’t mentioned finding Burly out cold on the floor of the patient’s room unnerved me. That meant somehow he had crawled away, and was still on the loose. The look that passed between the two officers told me they’d

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probably gotten all they could from me. When a customer appeared, the officers closed their notebooks, thanked me for my time and left. “Can I help you?” I sold a bottle of Vitamin E and a package of Zinc lozenges, then tore up the stairs to check on my patient. Cooper lay on the bed, his good eye open and alert, his bruised face and masculine features startlingly out of place among the swirling hot pink flowers of my duvet cover. He looked like a cowboy lying in a pile of flimsy lingerie. Joel and Tiffany sat on the end of the bed like awe-struck groupies. Likely they’d never had to protect a fugitive of the law before. “Hey.” “Hey yourself,” I said. “So you’re Hannah?” I blanked out for a second as I looked into an eye the color of a smoky sea. “Yeah, Hannah Hailstone.” I smiled. “You passed out before you could tell me where you lived, so I brought you to my place.” “Thanks. I’m Cooper West.” “I knew the Cooper part. You told me in the car.” He managed a smile. “Don’t remember too much about that.” “Understandable.” “So that’s twice now.” “Twice?” “That you saved my ass,” Cooper replied gratefully. “I owe you, big time.” “No you don’t.” I flushed under his appreciative gaze and redirected the conversation. “Joel, Tiffany, you’d better get back to work.” Joel oozed disappointment. “Thanks for your help,” I said in a softer tone, “but Joel,

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you’ll lose your job if you don’t get back, and Tiffany, I need you downstairs to watch the store.” That is what I pay you for. “Take it easy, man,” Joel said to Cooper as he shuffled out the door. “Later, buddy,” Cooper said. “Don’t forget,” Tiffany advised. “Lots of omega-three fatty acids favor the synthesis of inhibitory prostaglandins, which will reduce the inflammation. But like, they take a while to work. You could always try a couple of aspirin.” “I’ll do that. Thanks.” We listened to Joel and Tiffany’s footsteps fading down the stairs. “They told me the police were here,” Cooper said. “What did you tell them?” “Just that I didn’t know you, and had no idea you’d gone AWOL.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “You’ve had what I’d call a bad day. Two, in fact.” “Yeah. All my luck’s been bad, lately.” My hand flew to my hair in a guilty reflex, but I caught myself. My hair only foretold bad luck, it didn’t cause it. “So where’d you learn to fight like that, Hannah?” The way he curled my name around his tongue made my pulse take off at a gallop. “Umm, I know karate.” “No shit? Cool.” I caught the admiration in his eyes as they roamed over me, and the temperature of the room went up a notch. I could feel my cheeks burning and pretended to pick some lint off my covers. “Look Cooper, whatever stuff you have going down is your own business, but since I’m involved to some extent, I’d like an explanation. You’re not a criminal, are you?” My question made his scabbed lips curl with amusement. “No, I’m not a criminal. I’m a mechanic.”

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“A mechanic?” “Yeah. I work at Tyler’s garage.” “Do you have a lot of enemies?” Cooper shrugged. “If I do, I don’t know why.” “Do you remember what happened?” “I was having a beer with a friend. These three guys came over and started hassling me.” “You don’t know them?” “Never seen ‘em before. Let’s just say they persuaded me to join them in the alley. It’s not like I had a lot of choice. It was three against one. I’d have been able to take two of them, but three…” I had the feeling Cooper was trying to assure me that he wasn’t a wuss. The word hadn’t even entered my mind, and I found it endearing that he cared about the impression he was making. “Was one of the men the same guy you nailed with the oxygen tank this morning?” “Yeah.” Cooper’s forehead creased. “They kept asking, ‘Where is it?’ That’s all they said. I didn’t know what they were talking about. When I told them that, they laced me one, and then the fun began. I think they thought I was someone else.” He raised his casted left arm with a grunt and pointed his index finger at me. “I got in a few strokes of my own, though. A couple of those candy asses will be peeing blood for a week.” Yuck. “How did you manage to crawl into my car?” “They took a break at one point. Maybe to have a smoke. I pretended I’d passed out. Then I crawled out of the alley toward the parking lot of that burger place. Your car was the only place I could think of to hide, and lucky for me it wasn’t locked.” Cooper licked his lips. “Man, I’m thirsty. Can I have some water?” I brought him a glass of ice water, perched on the edge of

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the bed again and watched him take a long drink. “So you have no idea what these guys were after?” Cooper swallowed and gazed at me in misery. “No idea. If you don’t believe me, that’s cool. I know it sounds pretty lame.” It was too pathetic a tale to have been made up. “I never said I didn’t believe you. But whoever they are, they’re still after you. The police never mentioned finding The Hulk in your hospital room. That means he left under his own steam.” “Nice.” “The Hulk told you the police are involved?” “That’s what they all said. When I mentioned the cops would haul them into jail for attacking an innocent man, they just laughed and said I wasn’t innocent, and the cops knew all about it. I can’t take the chance that it’s not true.” Cooper took another drink of water, spilling some of it. I helped him hold the glass, and he drained it. When my fingers slid across the back of his hand, I lost my breath for a moment. “How do you think that guy found you?” “It’s not hard. There’s only one hospital in Normal.” “True,” I admitted as he handed me the empty glass. “Well, he doesn’t know your name, does he?” “I was pretty out of it, so the hospital staff only knows me as John Doe, but….” “But?” “My wallet was in my back pocket,” Cooper said warily, “and I think it fell out during the fight.” “You’re right, you are unlucky.” “That’s not what worries me.” I arched a brow. “Three thugs know where you live, and you’re not worried?” “My Harley’s still parked in the lot, and the keys are in my knapsack. I left my knapsack at the bar.” His expression darkened. “I hope to God it’s still there.”

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So I’d finally solved the mystery of Harley’s identity. “Well, I could get your knapsack for you, if you want.” “No, I’ll go. You’ve done too much already.” Cooper tried to sit up, but his pain was obvious as he clenched his teeth. “You can’t even stand up.” He slumped against the pillows. “Shit. I think I dislocated something.” I jumped to my feet. “I hope you’re kidding.” “You got any aspirin? Or some of that stuff that blonde was talking about?” “Trust me, omega three fatty acids are no match for narcotics, or whatever it is they gave you at the hospital. I’ve got extra-strength something around.” “Whatever,” Cooper muttered. I brought him the pills and some more water, and my heart twisted with sympathy at his drawn, pinched face. “Listen, I think I should take you to a clinic, or a doctor’s office.” “Hey, I know I’m causing you a lot of trouble, but I just need to rest a while.” “No, it’s no trouble.” “Right. You have a complete stranger lying in your bed, and it’s no trouble?” He had a point, especially since he was a cute complete stranger, and that definitely meant trouble, but not the kind he was talking about. “Cooper, you can borrow my bed as long as you need it. I have a very comfortable couch. In fact I sleep there a lot.” I studied him thoughtfully. “Should I call someone? Won’t they miss you at work?” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “There’s no point, I’m off until Tuesday.” “Anyone else?” “No, there’s nobody,” he murmured.

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I waited until Cooper’s breathing told me he’d fallen asleep and then tiptoed out of the room and shut the door. No wife, no girlfriend. Bonus.

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Four T

here was no Harley. The alley where Cooper’s beating had taken place stood between Jimmy John’s Best Burger and Belcher’s Bar & Grill. The windows of Belcher’s flashed neon beer advertisements, and a green chalkboard perched on the sidewalk displayed lunch and dinner specials. Strictly no-frills stick-to-your-ribs type meals: Hot steak sandwiches, gravy and fries, hot chicken sandwiches, gravy and fries, fish and chips, coleslaw and fries. My stomach growled. My kind of place. I pushed open the large wooden door and entered a smoky, dimly lit room. A jukebox wailed a depressing country tune, and a few heads turned as I walked toward the bar. I tried not to put too much emphasis on the fact that I was the only female in the place, except for a large, round waitress with teased hair from a bottle and a face only a mother could love. I hopped onto a barstool and ordered a beer to appease the bartender before I pelted him with questions. He placed a frosty bottle in front of me, and I dug into my wallet for some money.

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I glanced around. It was Saturday afternoon, and other than a few men sitting at the tables and a group gathered around the pool table in the back, I was the only one near the bar. I took a sip of beer, gathered my courage, and took advantage of my relative solitude. “I wonder if you could help me?” The bartender squinted his disapproval. Guess it wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that question. “That depends. Let me guess: you’re looking for someone.” “I’m looking for something, a knapsack.” His face clouded with suspicion, and he lowered his voice, “Who do I look like to you? A bellhop?” Out of the corner of my eye I noticed two large, beefy men, seated at a corner table, slowly stand. “A friend of mine left it here last night,” I explained. “He had an urgent appointment in the alley with three of your patrons, and had to leave his knapsack behind.” “Look, lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Even if I did, I don’t want no trouble, okay? Just drink your beer, and get the hell out of my bar.” The two men closed in on me. My heart raced and I broke out in a sweat. “Do you speak to all your customers this way? No wonder business is slow,” I babbled. The bartender’s expression turned ugly, and he opened his mouth to speak when the big-haired waitress sidled up to me. “Hey, don’t I know you, doll?” I blinked at her. “I don’t—” “Sure, you remember. I’ve seen you with your sister, Gladys. I’m Doris. I went to high school with your sister.” Her loud voice carried the length of the bar. I glanced behind me. The two men, built like wrestlers, stopped and squinted in confusion.

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The waitress glared at me, as if she knew something I didn’t. I was about to announce I didn’t have a sister, when I caught on. You never know when or how help is going to come your way. “You went to school with Gladys?” I gushed. “Yeah, that’s right.” The woman’s teased hair bounced as her head bobbed up and down. “Tell her I said hello, will ya?” A chill rippled along my scalp as hot, sour breath hit the back of my neck. “Hate to interrupt your reunion, Doris, but we need to have a private conversation with this little lady,” said wrestler number one. I shot Doris a pleading look. “Gear down, Stu. I’m only saying hello.” Doris made a cracking sound with her chewing gum. “Listen, doll, give Gladys my best. Ask her if she remembers the time we hid out in the girl’s washroom, smoking joints.” “Joints, right,” I muttered, uncertain about how this fable was supposed to help. Doris peered at me and nodded her head toward a narrow hallway to the left of the front door. “Yeah, the girl’s washroom. We used to hide out in there. We hid all kinds of things in there.” I must be losing my touch, but the light bulb finally turned on. “Right, the washroom. Got it.” I nodded gratefully and slid off the barstool. “Speaking of washrooms, would you two gentlemen excuse me a moment? I have to pee.” “Now, wait just a minute,” wrestler number two protested. I ignored them both and marched away, counting on the fact that they wouldn’t have the nerve to follow me into a ladies room. I shoved open the door marked Gals and began to search the stalls frantically. I finally found the knapsack in the cabinet under the sink. When I came out the wrestlers were waiting for

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me. I elbowed past them and made for the front door, but one of them grabbed me by the arm. I wrenched free, spun around, and planted my right foot squarely below the man’s belt, which wasn’t easy to find, given the size of his beer belly. He folded up like an accordion. Sometimes, despite all my skill with the martial arts, nothing beats a good old-fashioned kick in the groin. The man’s moans rang in my ears as I tore out of the bar with wrestler number two at my heels. I sprinted toward my car. I never lock it as a matter of principle, a small detail that probably saved Cooper’s life. I figure if someone wants to steal a rusty Oldsmobile, they can be my guest. A girl can’t make a quick getaway if she’s searching for the car keys. I heard the wrestler charging at me from behind, like a bull at a rodeo. I swung around, whacked him hard with the knapsack, and wrenched open the car door. He hesitated, looking dazed, which gave me enough time to climb inside and punch down the locks on the doors. Now came the search for the keys. The wrestler disappeared around the corner of the building and returned driving a large, red pickup truck. By the time I started the car and roared out of the parking lot, the truck was on my tail. Where the hell are the cops when you need them? They appear when they’re least wanted, when you’re late and speeding, or when you’re parked beside a hydrant. When a wrestler in a mad-moving truck is chasing you, they’re nowhere to be seen. I turned west, in the opposite direction of my shop, and sped north on School Street to West College Avenue, which brought me to the highway on ramp. The truck stayed with me, never allowing more than one car between us. I tried every maneuver I’d ever seen in the movies:

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switching lanes, swerving around cars, cutting people off. The guy in the truck must have seen the same movies, because he stuck with me like shit to a blanket. When I almost sideswiped the Chevy in the next lane, the old lady at the wheel gave me the finger. I smiled and waved. If I didn’t get off the highway, I’d end up dying as a result of my reckless driving, and wouldn’t need to worry about the wrestler. And I’d miss out on any chance I had of kissing the cute guy in my bed.

“Where have you been?” Tiffany clucked liked a mother hen when I finally got back to the shop. “What’s wrong with you? Something’s happened.” “What do you mean?” “You look…I dunno, like you have a fever or something. You want some gingerroot tea?” Gag. “No, I’m fine. I’m great.” In fact I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had experienced so much drama, and I should have been scared, but strangely enough I felt invigorated and giddy, and even Tiffany’s threat of herbal tea couldn’t dampen my spirits. “You’ve been gone for like, hours. We were worried.” “We?” “Cooper’s been asking for you.” Cooper? Asking for me? It made the afternoon’s headlong rush toward death almost worth it. I skipped past Tiffany on the way to my apartment, when it occurred to me that she appeared a tad frazzled. “Are you okay here? Have you even had a break?” “Joel came by earlier and watched things for me while I went to the bathroom. Then he went upstairs to visit Cooper.”

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I could hardly complain about a non-employee watching things, so I climbed the stairs, not overly excited about reporting the missing Harley. Cooper’s left eye lit up when he talked about his bike. When I stuck my head in the bedroom doorway, my knees turned to pudding. I’ve never been greeted by a smiling hunk sprawled in my bed, and he was hunky even with a black eye. For a minute I thought I was in the wrong apartment. “Hey. Are you okay? You were gone a long time.” I stalled. “How are you feeling?” “I’m good as long as I don’t make any sudden moves.” “That could be a problem, eventually. Have you eaten?” “Yeah, Tiffany ordered pizza. She said she put an IOU note in the till. I’ll pay you back as soon as I find my wallet. That’s if there’s any money left in it.” I waved my hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll sell some extra chickpeas this month.” A thought struck me and I tried not to blush. “Um…do you need help…um…you know, getting to the bathroom?” His mouth twitched at the corners. “Joel was here, and he helped me. Took about an hour to get there, but we managed. Thanks for asking.” “Then…uh…I’ll be right back,” I sputtered. “All I’ve had since breakfast is two sips of beer.” I wolfed down three slices of bread smeared with peanut butter, then returned to the bedroom and plopped the knapsack on the bed. “Sweet, you found it.” He tensed his shoulders, raised his head three inches, then slouched back, his face contorting. “Sudden moves like that, you mean?” “Yeah,” he moaned. “Just like that.” He stretched out a shaky hand and fumbled with the clasp on the knapsack. “By the way, your cat hates me. He sat at the end of the bed growling.”

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“The King? Oh, don’t worry about him. He hates everybody, even me. Let me do that.” I sat down, undid the clasp and handed Cooper the knapsack. He dumped the contents on the bed and rummaged through assorted items: Tee-shirt, socks, a shaving kit, and boxers. “It looks like you’re packed for a trip.” “I was thinking of going to Chicago for the weekend.” He gave a triumphant grunt and held up a set of keys. “Ta-da!” “Cooper, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like first?” He frowned. “The good news.” “Okay.” I heaved a sigh. “When I got to the bar there were a couple of goons waiting for me. When I asked the bartender about your knapsack, they honed in on me like flies to honey. They’re still after you, Cooper.” Concern flashed across his face. “Did they hurt you?” My stomach fluttered. “No.” “Was one of them the guy from the hospital?” I shook my head. “No, but one is called Stu.” “Where did you find the knapsack?” “Underneath the sink of the woman’s can. The waitress helped me out. Not sure why she stepped in, maybe she doesn’t like bullies either. So then I left.” “They didn’t hassle you?” “Yeah, they did, but I kicked one of them in the pills.” Cooper’s jaw dropped and his green eye twinkled. “Man, I’m glad you’re on my side.” I stared at my shoes and added, “The other guy followed me in a red truck, but I finally shook him off.” “How?” How indeed? The best thing about having a big ass car was that I could muscle past all the perky, petite cars on the highway, which was only fair. Owners of old clunkers needed

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some advantages, since it cost a small fortune to fill the gas tank on those babies. “I passed a lot of cars, then hid in front of a transport truck until I could take the exit unnoticed.” “I thought you were going to tell me the good news first.” “That is the good news.” Cooper went still. “I don’t think that’s good news at all. Those guys could have pulled a knife or something.” I flushed, and met his gaze. I wasn’t used to having anyone worry about me. Even my parents didn’t worry about me, it was the other way around. “Well, it turned out okay, so that’s good.” “So the bad news must be pretty bad.” No point in prolonging the inevitable. “Your bike’s not there, Cooper.” His face clouded. “Get real.” “I looked everywhere. I checked the whole block, front and back.” I hung my head. “I’m really sorry.” Anger darkened the bruise on his jaw, and he hunched forward in an attempt to sit up, but sucked in a breath and collapsed back on the pillow instead. “Son-of-a-bitch, the bastards stole my bike. That hog is a Screaming Eagle Deuce. Do you how much it’s worth? Forty G’s. I just bought upgrades, a smoked windshield and heated handgrips. Man, this can’t be happening.” Now probably wasn’t the time for hindsight, but I was curious. “Don’t you have an alarm system or something?” “Of course I do,” Cooper barked. “But there’s no siren. They must have rolled my bike onto a truck.” My raised eyebrows caught his attention, and he probably realized he was taking his anger out on the wrong person, because he grabbed my fingers and squeezed them. I was so surprised at how good it felt, I almost didn’t catch what he said next.

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“Dammit, I’m sorry, Hannah. I have no right to yell at you.” I stared at our hands, my smaller ones and his bigger ones and mumbled, “That’s okay.” When he let go, my hand missed his warmth, so I shoved it under my thigh. “Cooper, you’ll feel better in a few days. You can search for your bike then.” He gave me a desperate look. “My hog will be a heap of junk by the time those assholes get through with it. It’s probably in some chop shop by now. They’ll peddle the parts on the black market. Man, this bites.” Pity surged through me, and I felt helpless. “Well, you could report it stolen.” “Are you kidding? The cops probably stole it, if that thug was telling the truth.” “Why would they do that?” Cooper shrugged, defeated. “Maybe ‘cause they know I’ll come looking for it.” “But what do the cops want with you? Have you got outstanding speeding tickets?” “Even if I did, I’m pretty sure they mail out notices. They don’t send goons to rearrange your face.” His brow furrowed. “I can call Grease, ask him to nose around.” “Grease?” “Grease Tyler, my boss. He knows people who could keep an eye out for it. A bike like mine is hard to hide in a town this size.” He scowled. “That’s if it’s not halfway across the state by now. Dammit, I hate this, just lying here doing nothing.” I watched him shove his stuff back in the knapsack and mulled over the events of the last twenty-four hours. A real life mystery had just landed in my lap. Here was my chance to act out a Nancy Drew plot without even opening a book. Cooper continued rambling, “It sucks knowing a chick stuck her neck out for me. Those guys are mean dudes. What if they’d hurt you today? I couldn’t live with that.”

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“So just because I’m a girl, you think I can’t handle them?” I demanded. “I can take care of myself. I’ve done all right so far.” If I sounded a tad defensive, it’s because I was. A year ago my career plans had crashed and burned, I was stuck selling tofu, and all I had going for me was my amazing willingness to shoulder the problems of the entire planet. “Look it’s nothing personal—” Cooper stopped in midsentence. Surprise flickered across his face as he held up a magazine and smirked. “Is this yours?” I looked at the magazine and was so astonished it took me a moment to form a coherent thought. “You honestly think I subscribe to Eager Beaver?” Cooper flipped through it. “Well, it’s not mine.” “Right,” I snorted. “I’ll bet you only read it for the fascinating articles.” Cooper’s eye darkened as he flipped the magazine sideways. “Wow.” Fury propelled me off the bed and toward the door. Illogical as it was, the sight of Cooper ogling a photograph of a naked woman turned my stomach. “Hey, where are you going?” he called. “I’ll leave you two alone,” I snapped. He waved the magazine at me and sounded contrite. “I mean it, Hannah. It’s not mine. Maybe it’s Joel’s.” I spun around. “Joel’s? How could it be Joel’s?” “He’s the only other person who was here.” He hesitated. “Unless of course, it belongs to a friend of yours.” “Oh, I forgot,” I said peevishly. “I did have a party in my bedroom the other night. My friends and I had a blast drooling over dirty girlie magazines.” I crossed my arms. “That magazine came from your knapsack.” He looked doubtful, but wisely chose not to argue with me. “Maybe Grease put it there.”

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“Does your boss enjoy this sort of reading material?” “I don’t know any guy who doesn’t.” I glared at him and Cooper had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry. Maybe Grease threw it in there to hide it from his wife.” He shook his head. “No, I’d have seen it. When I was in the bar I remember I took my wallet out of my knapsack and shoved it in my back pocket, so I could pay the bill.” “Then it wasn’t in your bag when you got to the bar?” “No.” “So someone in the bar put it there.” I wandered back to the bed. “Maybe this magazine is what those goons were after.” “Don’t you think that’s overkill to work over some stranger in an alley for pictures of naked women? A guy can buy a magazine like this at any newspaper stand.” At my raised eyebrow, he flushed. “Not that I buy them. I mean generally speaking.” Uh-huh. “You mentioned you were with someone. A friend. Could it be his?” “No.” I exhaled in frustration. “How can you be so sure?” “Cause I was with a woman,” Cooper replied. “She wouldn’t own a magazine like this.” “Oh, I see,” I fumed. “You thought the magazine was mine, and I’m a woman.” Cooper gazed at me, his green eye smoldering, his longish hair brushing my pillow and one foot dangling out from underneath the duvet. “Believe me, I’ve noticed.” Heat spread from my cheeks to my earlobes. “Well then, why couldn’t it be hers?” “I guess it could be.” “Who is this woman?” I asked as I examined my nails in an effort to look casual. “A girlfriend?” “Not anymore. It didn’t work out. We’re on the rocks.”

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I don’t know why I’d thrown out ‘girlfriend’ as the first possibility, but his answer surprised me. In fact, an unexplainable wave of disappointment washed through me. “So you were at the bar, and?” Cooper wiped an arm across his forehead. “I bought her a beer, we talked a bit and she left. End of story.” “Hannah, Joel’s here,” Tiffany called from my front door. “Do you want me to like, close up before I go?” I seized the opportunity to ask Joel about the magazine, in the unlikely event he knew something about it. He said it didn’t belong to him, but the way his eyes bulged when he looked at it, I could tell he wished it did. Tiffany called it ‘demeaning, degrading trash’ and threatened to burn it. I’d never seen Tiffany so irritable, and my guilty conscience kicked into overdrive. The poor kid had coped all day on her own with the shop downstairs and an injured man upstairs. I shooed her and Joel out the door and announced my intention to ask Herb, the owner, about a raise in her salary. That put a smile on her face. After locking up, I went back upstairs, taking the dreaded magazine with me. “I can’t let you give up your bed for me tonight,” Cooper announced as I returned to the bedroom. “I’ll crash on the couch.” “I told you, my couch is very comfortable. Besides, it’ll take you a week to make it from here to the living room.” At the dejection on Cooper’s face, I added quickly, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” His sore mouth curled into an impish smile. “You’re forgiven. In fact, you’re entitled to a few shots. I’m screwing up your weekend.” Right. I had an exciting weekend planned: me, King, and a hundred pounds of wild rice.

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I held out the magazine, pinching it between my fingers. “Joel knows nothing about this, so we’re back to your girlfriend. Could you ask her about the magazine? Maybe she knows who it belongs to. It’s a small thing, but you never know, it may help you find your motorcycle.” “Yeah, I could give her a call.” As I handed him the magazine, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. I picked it up and scanned it. It was a computer printout, with a list of names. The document looked vaguely familiar. “I suppose this isn’t yours, either.” Cooper took the paper and studied it. “You said your last name is Hailstone, right?” “That’s right.” “There’s a J. Hailstone on this list. Do you know him?” I snatched the paper back and looked at it again. “Know him? He’s my father.” My hair crackled with static electricity. I probably could have generated enough power to light up a room. My father’s name was on a piece of paper inside a girlie magazine. A girlie magazine that three ugly goons seemed desperate to get their hands on.

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Five T

he next morning I stumbled toward the bathroom, eyes still blurry with sleep, and slammed into something warm, hard and smelling of soap. “Oh!” I threw up my hands and opened my eyes wider. I was face to chest with the most incredible set of pectoral muscles I’ve ever seen. My fingers spread of their own accord, since they’d never touched a chest this yummy either. Heated skin pulsed beneath my hands. I looked up and met Cooper’s amused gaze. “Morning.” I jerked my hands away as though I’d been scalded and shook my brain awake. Unnerved, I gathered my bathrobe around me a little tighter. “What are you doing up? By yourself?” “I’m twenty-eight years old. I think I can handle it.” “But—” “I’m making progress. It only took me three hours to get to the bathroom. I got out of bed at six-thirty.” He paused, then added, “I’m kidding.”

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I gave him the once over with a critical eye, purely for medical reasons, of course. Okay, perhaps a bit of female lust. Cooper’s color had improved since yesterday, and the swelling in his right eye had gone down. I ventured a quick glance lower and sucked in a breath when I saw his lean, flat abdomen. He wore the green scrub pants low on his hips. Faint blue bruises formed a pattern across his torso. I could have played a riveting game of connect the dots on his body. I clenched my hands into fists and resisted the urge to touch him again. My eyes slid back to his face and I practiced a nonchalant expression. “You look good. I mean you look better.” “Yeah, I feel better. Stiff, and it hurts to breathe, but at least I can get around on my own. Listen, I’m sorry to be in your way. Just pretend I’m not here.” I don’t think I can do that, with you wandering around half-naked. I watched him walk away from me with careful, slow steps, and I almost offered to take his arm, but somehow I knew he’d resent it. I completed my usual morning ritual and quickly got dressed, fed King, and made coffee. It gave me an odd feeling, having another person in my apartment, an odd, tingly feeling. Cooper was sitting at the little table outside the kitchen when I slid through the beaded curtains, holding two steaming mugs of Brazilian Special Blend. I almost dropped them when he smiled at me. He was clean-shaven, and he looked younger, more vulnerable. His hair was shaggy, with natural highlights that only came from spending a lot of time outdoors. I’d have killed for highlights like that. He reminded me of the puppy I fell in love with when I was ten, and begged my parents to let me keep. Except the puppy didn’t have eyes the color of a rainforest. “How do you like your coffee?” I croaked. “With lots of sugar.”

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“Right.” I retrieved the sugar bowl from the cupboard, joined him at the table, and watched in fascination as he dumped four heaping teaspoons into his mug. “So, I called Sherry last night,” Cooper said as he stirred the black liquid thoughtfully. “Who the hell is Sherry?” “My ex.” “Sherry? That’s her name?” “Yeah, why?” I’ve always hated the name Sherry. I knew a Sherry in grade school. Every school has one. She was a blonde, popular superbitch who pretended to be everyone’s friend until your back was turned. “No reason. So what did she say?” “She wasn’t home.” “Then we both struck out. I called my father and had a nice chat with his voice mail. But I know where to find him today.” “Where?” “The golf course.” “How do you know he’s there?” Cooper asked. “Because it’s a Sunday, and it’s not raining, and it’s still daylight.” I checked my watch. “It’s ten o’clock. He’ll be somewhere on the back nine.” Cooper took a swig of coffee. “Well, you’ll be happy to know I’m going home, now that I’m somewhat mobile. I’ve given you enough trouble. For everything you’ve done, you’ve got my services for the rest of your life.” Delight twisted somewhere below my navel. “Excuse me?” “Tune-ups, lube jobs, tire rotation, you name it.” “Oh,” I said, alarmed at my wanton fantasies. “Thanks.” Something else Cooper said raised a warning flag. “Did you say you’re going home?” “Uh-huh.”

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“That’s a really bad idea. If those guys have your wallet, they know where you live. They’re probably staking out your place as we speak.” “Staking out? Look, Hannah, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not gonna run and hide like some little weasel. The only way to get my bike back is to face those bastards.” “Wrong. If that list is what they’re after, they’re just going to beat you senseless again until you give it to them. Then not only have you lost your bike, you’ve lost any chance you had to find out what’s behind all this.” Cooper still didn’t look convinced. “It’s nice of you to wanna help.” “I’m not helping because I have nothing better to do,” I insisted. “If this piece of paper has anything to do with those guys who beat you to a pulp, and my father’s name is on it, I need to know more. What if my father’s in some kind of danger?” “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I think you watch too many crime shows.” Well sure I did, but didn’t everybody? Besides, Cooper was probably assuming my father was a boring, stay-at-home Dad who mowed the lawn every weekend and played checkers with his buddies. Unfortunately, that wasn’t quite the case, but I didn’t want to scare Cooper off with horror stories about my gene pool. “Cooper, you’re a walking bruise. The next time you fight those guys, they could kill you. And if you’re dead, how are you going to get your bike back?” That little taste of logic appeared to sink in. Loss of life didn’t impress Cooper as much as not getting his bike back. “I never thought about it that way.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?” His smile told me he meant it as a compliment, so I smiled back, and the seconds ticked by. Since we couldn’t stare at each other indefinitely, I stood and said, “I’ll make us some breakfast,

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and then we’ll find my father and visit your girlfriendon-the-rocks.” “Okay.” Cooper pushed out of his chair with a groan. The white tee-shirt he wore showed off his corded biceps, and I swallowed over a parched throat and pointed. “What’s that?” I asked, referring to the tattoo peeking out from under his right shirtsleeve. He rolled up the sleeve proudly and revealed a brown and yellow emblem of an eagle spreading his wings over the letters: H.O.G. “Harley Owner’s Group,” Cooper explained. “It’s a club.” I blinked. “You’re a member of a biker gang?” “No. It’s more like Rotary International.” “Oh.” “Listen, if we’re going out, I’ll need clothes. Do you think Joel could lend me something?” I frowned. “I think all he owns are baseball caps, wifebeaters and pants five sizes too big.” “All I need are pants and shoes.” He looked down at his scrubs, and then inspected me thoroughly from top to bottom. The look in his eyes made my cheeks burn and my jaw drop. “If you’re thinking that my pants will fit you, you’re a dead man.” “You don’t have any baggy sweats from a former ‘fat’ period?” Cooper asked, shamefaced. “My sister keeps some around for after Christmas when she can’t fit into anything else.” I crossed my arms. “My weight doesn’t fluctuate.” Much. He gave me a saucy grin. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. You’re a health nut.” After accusing me of lesbian tendencies with the Eager Beaver fiasco, now he was insulting me by asking to borrow my pants and calling me a health nut? It was a good thing he was cute. Cute men got away with murder.

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*** I did a few turns around the golf course parking lot before finally squeezing into a space at the far end. It was almost the end of golf season, and the golf fanatics were frantically trying to squeeze in their last fix before the snow fell. My father loves golf more than life itself. I’ve never understood the attraction, although I admit the grass is nice to look at. Sometimes my father asks me to caddy for him. I’d like to say yes, since it’d be a chance to spend time together, but when he’s golfing he barely talks, and if I try to make conversation, he shushes me. I also hate the way he makes bets on every putt. We rented a golf cart and Cooper insisted on driving, even though every movement made him wince. I suspect he wanted to prove he was man enough to operate a moving vehicle. Men are very weird about vehicles. I gave Cooper a sideways glance as we drove across the fairway. He had borrowed a pair of jeans, a jacket and running shoes from Joel’s older brother, who was away at army boot camp. Tiffany had come to our rescue once again, and had brought them over for him. Heaven only knows what I’d do without that girl. Sure enough, my father was on the twelfth putting green. Uncle Forrest was with him. They paused as we approached, and I made the introductions. My father is tall and distinguished, with thick dark hair flecked with gray at the temples. He’s had no shortage of female admirers since he and Mom divorced. I can understand what women see in him. When his tanned face wrinkles into a smile, he’s very handsome. I inherited my thick hair from him. Uncle Forrest, my mother’s brother, is younger by four years and shorter, with thinning blond hair. My father has always

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struggled with middle-aged bulge, but the Finch side of the family eat like pigs and never gain weight. I keep praying I’ve inherited the thin genes from the Finches, but only time will tell. If Cooper’s black eye and cast surprised my father, he hid it well. “Cooper. Is that your first name, or your last?” “First.” “So what’s your last name?” “West.” “I know a Spencer West, works at Heartland Bank and Trust. Any relation?” my father asked. “No sir. I’m from Chicago, originally. Most of my family’s still there.” My father sized him up with growing interest. “You dating my daughter?” My ears burned. “Dad.” Cooper’s mouth curled. “No, sir.” Uncle Forrest spoke up. “What happened to you? Were you in a fight?” “Yes sir.” “Fight a lot, do you?” my uncle asked. “Not if I can help it.” “And you lost?” my father chimed in. Cooper hooked his right thumb into his back pocket. “Yeah.” “It was three against one,” I announced in Cooper’s defense. “I hope you press charges,” Uncle Forrest said, in his typical lawyer fashion. “I’m thinking about it.” “Dad, we’re here for a reason.” I pulled the computer printout from my purse. “We found this list in Cooper’s knapsack. The men who beat him up, we think it’s what they were after.”

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When my father wasn’t in the mood for serious discussions, no power on earth could change his mind. His eyes twinkled ominously at me as he leaned against his putter. “What are you, a detective all of a sudden?” He turned to Cooper. “Did you know this girl went to law school? Was at the top of her class.” “Dad.” “Showed real promise.” He gestured toward Uncle Forrest. “She assisted at Gatchell and Finch, my brother-in-law’s firm. She was a natural, but she quit, just like that, two weeks before the bar exams.” Cooper watched me. “No sir, I didn’t know that.” I flapped the paper in front of my father’s face to get his attention. The last thing I needed was to reopen old wounds. “Your name is on this list, Dad. Any idea why?” That shut him up. My father’s eyes narrowed. He took the paper and read the names, as Uncle Forrest peeked over his shoulder. “Where did you say you got this?” “I’m not really sure, sir,” Cooper answered. “I think someone may have put it in my bag. All we really know is, someone wants it back.” My father had his poker face on. “I’m with good company. I recognize all these names. B. Donavan must be Barry Donavan, the chiropractor. S. Bernard is probably Sam Bernard, of Bernard Realtors.” “E. Wheeler is probably Eddie Wheeler, who owns the deli,” Uncle Forrest added as my father handed the list back to me. My father scratched his head. “What can I say? I have no idea why I’m on this list. Have you talked to any of the others?” “Well no, not yet,” I admitted. “I hoped you’d be able to tell me something.” He shrugged. “Sorry, honey. I’m pretty well known in this town. I’m sure my name is on lots of different lists. My advice

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would be to forget it.” He changed the subject. “You talk to your mother, recently?” “No.” “Tell her I said hello.” He nodded at Cooper. “Nice to meet you. You must be special. Hannah never lets me meet anyone she goes out with.” Now my face was the same temperature as my ears. “We’re not going out.” “Hey, Hailstone, you’re holding us up!” The voice in the distance came from a foursome behind us, and had its desired effect. My uncle grinned, said goodbye, and went to finish his putt. My father waved and marched toward his golf cart, leaving me standing with my mouth wide open, like a dying fish on a beach.

“So, you were almost a lawyer?” I started the car and backed out of the parking space. “Yeah. Close, but no cigar.” “How come you gave it up?” His choice of words was accurate. I gave up law school, like it was a bad habit, like smoking. “It just didn’t work out. I thought I’d like it, but I hated it. I kept going because I figured I’d begin to like it sooner or later, but I didn’t.” I’d wanted to make my parents proud, but even I couldn’t sacrifice my entire future just to keep my parents happy. Although they’d never once said so, I knew they were both disappointed when I quit. I glanced at Cooper and added, “I’d prefer if we didn’t talk about it anymore.” Cooper continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Still, your father must be very proud of you.” “What’s to be proud of?” I couldn’t believe I was telling a

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virtual stranger my private business. I never talked to anyone about this stuff, not even my mother. But Cooper had a way of watching me that made me want to blurt out my deepest, darkest secrets. “You manage a business,” Cooper pointed out. “You’re a successful businesswoman.” “Oh, please,” I snorted. “I barely make rental payments on a rundown shop on a nowhere street, selling things I don’t even believe in.” Cooper did a double take. “You don’t believe in vitamins and stuff?” “I think it’s a lot of hooey.” I was relieved the subject had veered away from my shortcomings, so I smiled mischievously. “Don’t tell anyone. It would be very bad for business. I could be thrown out of the Alternative Therapies & Holistic Herbal Remedies Association on my ear.” “So why do you do it, then?” I shrugged. “It puts French fries on the table.” “But what do you really want to do?” Cooper pressed on. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What do you mean, do?” Cooper gestured to our surroundings. “It’s a big world, full of opportunities. Haven’t you ever had a dream?” As I headed back toward town, I pondered his question. A dream? No. I was relieved I wasn’t going to be a lawyer. Could a person have a dream about not being something? “You sure ask a lot of questions,” I said evasively. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy.” Cooper looked so contrite I felt guilty for not spilling my guts, so I threw him a dazzling smile. “Oh, it’s fine, I don’t really mind. What’s your dream?” “I’m living it,” Cooper said proudly. “I ride my Harley, tinker with engines, and go where I want, when I want.”

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I didn’t comment. It sounded very flighty. I’d be a nervous wreck if I lived like that. I was already a nervous wreck watching my mother flit around, playing with her paint pots, and my father flirt shamelessly with anyone female while he dabbled in financial planning. My father was frustrated with his job, and secretly wished he was James Bond. Cooper gazed at me, and my pulse kicked up a fuss. “You have to admit,” he said, “it’s kind of funny, you managing a health food store and not believing in it. I’ve read that when you practice the martial arts, you’re supposed to stay healthy. Treat your body as a temple, and all that shit.” “Are you implying that my body’s not a temple?” I demanded indignantly. Cooper flashed a suggestive smile. “It looks pretty good from what I’ve seen so far. Of course, I haven’t seen all of it yet.” His brazen remark took my breath away momentarily, so I launched into the principles of Karate to change the subject and distract me from his roguish grin. “Karate is a blending of mind, body and spirit. I’ll have you know I eat a very healthy diet most of the time, and I train almost every day. When I’m stressed, I indulge in a little saturated fat. Everyone has a weakness, French fries are mine.” Cooper laid his cast along the back seat, which brought his hand closer to my hair. He picked up an unruly lock off the nape of my neck, sending a tingle down my backbone to the tips of my toes. “Your hair—” “What about it?” I demanded hotly, not sure if I was breathless because I was annoyed or turned on. I prepared to defend myself against an onslaught of criticism. “Is very sexy,” he finished softly. It was the second time Cooper had made a comment about my hair, and this time he wasn’t high on narcotics. I had the

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feeling he’d find a Mohawk cut sexy, but it was flattering all the same. I babbled to fill the silence. “It doesn’t usually look like this. My hair is really nice. But once in a while it really goes funny, you know? Frizzy, or brittle, or really, really dry. That means something bad is going to happen.” “Something bad?” I nodded, and realized I was probably talking myself out of this guy thinking I was sexy. “Yeah, bad. Like on Friday, when I found you in my car, I had split ends like you wouldn’t believe.” “Are you saying that we’re in this mess because you have frizzy pink hair?” I flushed with the knowledge that Cooper had noticed my unusual hair color. “It doesn’t cause the bad luck, it just tells me when it’s going to happen.” “Like an early warning system?” “I guess so.” “Sweet.” I stopped at a red light at the intersection of South Linden and East Virginia, and turned to him. I’m not sure what I was going to say, but the words died on my lips when I met his eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” Cooper said, his swollen mouth curving. His good eye crinkled when he smiled. When he leaned closer my pulse raced and my sweaty hands slipped off the steering wheel. His kiss was soft and feathery. It was followed by another one, this time a little firmer. His right hand cupped the back of my head as I melted into him and savored his warm lips. He tasted like peppermint. When I remembered how sore his mouth must be, I pulled back. “Cooper?” “What?” he whispered.

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I stared at his mouth, and he stared at mine. “Your mouth, it must hurt when you kiss me.” “It’s worth it.” Cooper leaned in for another kiss, but the blare of the car horn behind us shot me back to reality. The light had turned green. I dragged my face away from his, pressed my foot on the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward. “Sorry,” I muttered, driving in a daze. “Do you have your seat belt on?” “No,” he answered in an amused tone, his breath fanning the back of my neck. “Why not? You really should.” “I thought you said you didn’t believe in health.” “I said I didn’t believe in herbs as a cure-all for everything. Not wearing a seat belt is just plain dumb. It took me an hour to get your bloodstains off my back seat. I sure don’t want them on my windshield.” I lied. I hadn’t even checked to see if there were bloodstains back there. I wasn’t much of a housekeeper. Cooper sat back and shook his head playfully. “Your concern is touching.” “Where are we going?” I demanded, as my pulse pounded. “Take the next left. Sherry’s place is over near the WalMart.” We drove in silence a while, until Cooper spoke again. “It’s none of my business, but.—” “But?” “It’s too bad your father couldn’t help us.” Cooper sounded innocent enough, but something about his tone made my eyes narrow. “What do you mean?” “Nothing.” “You think he wasn’t telling the truth?” Cooper held up his hands in defense. “I didn’t say that.”

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“But it’s what you think,” I insisted. “Go ahead, you can be honest.” He slanted me a look. “Really?” “Of course. I’d welcome your opinion.” Geeze, was I that hard to talk to? Maybe. “I think that you suspect your father is hiding something,” Cooper said. “I think you’re worried about him.” Cooper was dead-on, which caught me off guard. “What are you, clairvoyant?” “You’re not that hard to read. I could make a killing by playing poker against you. But the question is why do you think your father’s in trouble? He strikes me as a straight-up guy. What does he do for a living?” “He works at Corn Belt Financial, and he’s been in trouble before.” Cooper grunted. “Who hasn’t? He’s a grown man. I’m sure he can take care of himself.” “No, he can’t,” I said. “Whenever I leave him on his own he gets into hot water. It’s a family curse.” Cooper’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He doesn’t mind you getting involved with his problems?” I gave him a quick glance. “Of course not, I’m his daughter.” “Well, if he is in trouble, he’s hardly going to admit to anything in front of me.” Cooper pointed to the right. “Park anywhere here. It’s the gray building.” I pulled up to the curb and was out of the car almost before the engine died. Cooper’s kiss had my head spinning, and I needed to think. I couldn’t do that when he was so close to me. It was painful watching Cooper get out of the car. But even though every movement must have hurt like hell, I got the impression he always moved slowly.

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I motioned with my hand. “Lead the way.” Cooper ambled up the walk, and I followed him. The building was neat enough on the outside. Someone had planted a few petunias in a pot next to the front door in an attempt at landscaping, but the flowers were leggy and dry, and would die from the frost the weathermen were predicting any time now. Once in the foyer, the décor turned dingy. The walls had waited a few years too long for a new coat of paint and the carpeting had stains on it. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of boiled cabbage permeating the place. “Charming.” We climbed the stairs to the second floor. I followed Cooper down to the end of the hall. “This is it.” When Cooper knocked, the door creaked open. I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and could feel his biceps tense. “That’s strange. She usually has four different locks on the door.” Shivers cascaded down my spine. “Maybe we shouldn’t go in there.” Being a man, he didn’t listen to me, but pushed the door open with his foot and entered a small hallway. “Sherry? You here?” Silence. It didn’t take long to search the apartment, since it consisted of one tiny bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchenette. In contrast to the dingy hallway, the walls were covered with lemon-striped wallpaper, the windows adorned with bright blue valances. Sherry had a flair for decorating, it seemed. But she was an even worse housekeeper than I was. There were clothes draped everywhere. The bookshelf was bare, its contents tossed on the floor. The kitchen drawers and cupboards had been emptied and left gaping open.

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“Somebody’s tossed the place,” Cooper murmured. I preferred to think that Sherry was a slob, but Cooper was right. “Well, there’s your answer. Your girlfriend slipped that list into your bag when you weren’t looking, and whoever danced on your face is looking for Sherry, believing she still has it, since they couldn’t get it from you.” I was hyperventilating, torn between relief that I didn’t have to meet Sherry face to face and uneasiness that whoever made the mess was determined enough to be dangerous. “If they’re looking for the list, then I’ll bet they did the same thing to my place.” Cooper scanned the room in dismay. “I hope Sherry is okay.” If you’re so worried about her, shouldn’t it be her you’re kissing, and not me? I pushed aside the jealous genie inside of me and replied, “If she’s smart, she’ll be out of the state, by now.” I glanced around nervously. “Cooper, I think we need to tell the police about this.” He rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Yeah. She’s got some major shit goin’ down.” “But you should wait in the car and let me talk to them. If they see you, they’re liable to toss you in jail and throw away the key.” Our eyes met and held. “You do believe I’m not involved in this, don’t you?” Cooper demanded. “Whoever those goons are after, they’ve got the wrong guy. I’d have remembered if I’d pissed somebody off that badly.” It touched me that he cared what I thought about him. Although I’d only known him two days, I instinctively knew he was telling the truth. “Of course I believe you’re not involved. I’m not in the habit of abetting criminals,” I replied airily, to lighten the mood.

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But a subtle anxiety charged the air between us, and Cooper looked as worried as I felt. As we left the building, I found myself looking over my shoulder every five seconds. “Does Sherry do this a lot?” “Do what?” “Well, she’s obviously in trouble. Are you surprised?” “Nothing Sherry does would surprise me.” Once Cooper had squeezed his stiff body back into the car, he added, “What does your father, a realtor, a chiropractor, and the owner of a delicatessen have in common? And where the hell is my bike?” All excellent questions. I wondered what my favorite super sleuth would do in a similar situation. Nancy Drew generally relied on three things. The first was luck, but forget that, I’d had very little luck lately. Physical self-defense was her second strategy, but there was no one for me to fight at the moment. Finally she used brains over brawn. I gave it some thought and then announced, “Find out who wants that list back, and you’ll find out who ripped off your bike.” “How do you know all this stuff?” “All what stuff?” “Deduction. That’s what it’s called. You’re very good at it.” A surge of satisfaction bubbled up inside of me. “Thanks. I spent a couple of summers helping out a private investigator my Uncle Forrest knows over in Bloomington. I used to serve papers, you know, for divorces or lawsuits, and you can’t just mail them. You have to actually hand them to the person. So I spent a lot of time running around trying to track people down. Sometimes he’d let me hunt for witnesses.” “Cool.” “Plus I took a couple of criminology courses in law school,” I added as I eased out into the traffic. “Sherry works for a private investigator, too. Jackson, I think that’s his name.”

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The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. “Norman Jackson?” “I think so.” Cooper glanced at me curiously. “Why?” “My father knows him. He doesn’t think much of him, either. The story is Norman Jackson was an ex-cop who retired early to keep a lid on rumors around the precinct that he was dirtier than the bottom of Lake Michigan.” “Interesting. Do you think he’s missing any girlie magazines?” “It’s possible. Either way, Sherry being connected to a PI means something,” I decided, feeling more sleuthy by the minute. “I mean, it’s not like her job is flipping burgers or manicuring people’s nails. She works in Jackson’s office. I’ll bet she sees a lot, hears a lot. Maybe this list belongs to him, or one of his clients. We should pay Jackson a visit.” “And say what?” Cooper asked. “Here’s the list you’re after, so now you can kill us so we won’t talk?” “Of course not,” I fumed. Man, this guy was sexy, but he was no Ned Nickerson. “We nose around, ask about Sherry. You have every right to ask about her, being her boyfriend. We have to find her, Cooper, she’s the only who can help us. In the meantime, we can check out the rest of the names on the list, see if we can figure out what the connection is.” “I’m not her boyfriend,” Cooper corrected. “But you said—” “I said we’re on the rocks.” Like the Rock of Gibraltar? Or like a pebble in your shoe, a mild irritant but easily fixed? What the hell was he talking about? “There’s something about that piece of paper that bothers me,” I said. “I think I know someone who can help me figure it out.” “Who?”

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Six I

loved Nigel’s vintage duplex. It turned me on more than he ever had. Whenever I’d come over, my fingers ached to slap paint on the ornate moldings and strip the wallpaper to naked plaster. I’d imagine all the delicious things I could do to the place. It was the only thing I really missed about him after we broke up. Nigel answered the door on the third knock. He gave me a goofy grin. “Hey, sugar. What’s shakin’?” “Hi, Nigel. I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in like this.” Nigel opened the door wide, his owl-like eyes blinking in the sudden light, as though he’d been holed up in a basement for twenty-four hours. “Are you kidding? It’s great to see you.” He smoothed back his curly brown hair in an attempt to improve his appearance, but the curls sprang back to their original disorder. When Nigel saw Cooper, his smile faded. I introduced them, and the men shook hands, eyeing each other suspiciously, like rams circling. I detected a tension in the

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air that wasn’t there before. If these guys were peacocks, they’d be fanning their feathers by now. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought. In fact, my mood brightened considerably. We stepped into a large hallway that boasted faded wallpaper and stale air. Nigel had severe allergies, and never opened a window. “Nigel, I couldn’t think of anyone else who could help me with this.” “Sugar, I’m so glad to see you, it doesn’t matter why you’re here,” Nigel gushed. Sometimes I wondered if Nigel had trouble remembering my name, and that was why he always called me sugar. Cooper’s face had twisted into an outright scowl. I could see the muscles working in his jaw. My heart fluttered. I pulled out the list and handed it to Nigel. “We found this piece of paper and we’re trying to figure out what it is. What do you think?” Nigel wandered into a large room to the left, and I followed. Cooper hesitated, then must have decided I shouldn’t be left alone in the same room with Nigel, and tagged along. Nigel scooped a pair of glasses off the top of a mass of papers on his desk, put them on, and studied the list for several long minutes. Cooper crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. Finally Nigel took off his glasses and handed the paper back to me. “It’s a slam-dunk. This is a print-out from a police computer.” “A police computer?” “That’s right. I recognize the ink, the format of the page, and look here: see those small numbers and letters on the bottom left hand corner? That’s for the Normal Police Department’s data form ordering system. They use a serial number for all their paperwork. Where’d you get this?” Cooper took a break from his ‘I’m so bored can we please

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go now’ act long enough to answer him. “Someone gave it to me. I found it in my knapsack.” I shoved the paper in my back pocket. “What do you think it is, Nigel?” “Could be a list of suspects, arrests, snitches, could be anything. But one thing’s for sure. This came from inside the NPD. Whoever lost it shouldn’t have had it in the first place.” Cooper and I exchanged glances. Nigel twirled his glasses. “Can I ask why you’re so interested in this?” “No,” Cooper replied curtly, before I had a chance to answer, and then added, “No offense. We appreciate the help.” He gripped my upper arm and squeezed it like a melon. “We have to be on our way.” Nigel’s eyes narrowed. “Right. Well, it was nice to see you, sugar. Drop by anytime. You don’t need a reason.” “Thanks, Nigel. Thanks a lot for helping me with this,” I hollered over my shoulder as Cooper practically dragged me across the hallway, out the front door and onto the sidewalk. “What is your problem?” I demanded as we got back into the car. Cooper’s face was the picture of innocence. “I don’t have a problem. Do you? Did you want to stay longer?” “Even if I did, it’s too late to ask me now.” I started the engine and headed back downtown. “So, who is this dude? An ex?” Cooper sounded nonchalant, but he was a bad actor. I milked it for all it was worth. “Why do you care?” “I don’t. I’m just curious.” Right. “Yes, he’s an ex, and he’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever known. He has a PhD in computer science and a Masters in Psychology.” “Ooohh,” Cooper breathed, rolling his unswollen eye.

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The steam coming out of Cooper’s ears could have cooked rice. The secret, illogical core of my feminine heart danced for joy. Cooper was practically green, he was so jealous. This was a very good thing. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I couldn’t remember the last time a guy had cared enough to be jealous over me. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten close enough to a guy to enable him to be jealous. My sex life was non-existent at the moment, so any attention at all was a turn on. We drove through town in silence, and I pondered the information Nigel had given us. It verified what Cooper had been told. Somehow, the police were in on whatever this was. So was Cooper’s ‘on the rocks’ girlfriend. Now I knew why the paper had looked familiar. I’d seen papers just like it at my Uncle Forrest’s law firm. Sometimes he used police information as evidence for his cases. I pulled into the visitor parking lot behind the police station and turned off the ignition. “Cooper, I have an awful feeling about this. Nigel’s answer didn’t put my mind at ease.” “I guess you’re worried about your father.” I nodded and bit my bottom lip. “You mentioned he’s been in trouble before. What kind of trouble?” “Tax evasion, five years ago,” I managed to say through a closed throat. Cooper took my hand in his and our eyes locked. “I’m sorry.” He tilted his head toward me and our mouths met again. He ran his tongue along my bottom lip, causing waves of pleasure to shoot from my navel to my toes. No one had ever kissed me like that, and it occurred to me through a very agreeable haze that maybe this was why Tiffany liked having Joel around so much.

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I left Cooper waiting in the car, and by the time I reached the front door of the police station, my heart rate had almost gone back to normal. I approached the front counter and explained my reasons for being there to the policeman on duty. He ushered me to a hard-as-rock bench where I sat facing a large poster entreating me to call the 1-800 number if I saw the evil-looking man who stared at me from the photograph. I shuddered and scrutinized the face, but didn’t recognize him as one of the wrestlers from the bar. Moving from nuzzling a cute guy in a heated car to sitting in a cold, sterile police station was the equivalent of leaping from my warm bed into a snow bank. After studying the community bulletins on defensive driving classes, abused women’s shelters and information for runaway teens, my buzz from Cooper’s kiss had completely disappeared. By the time I got to speak to someone I was thoroughly bummed. It was the same policeman who’d come to my shop the previous morning. Mr. Persian Head. He remembered me, and while I explained about Sherry’s apartment, he listened, nodded, and wrote a few notes. “What’s Sherry’s last name?” Yikes. “I can’t remember.” “How long has Sherry been missing?” Technically, I had no idea. Cooper had last seen her on Friday, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe she’d been home an hour before we got to her apartment, and we just missed the goons who’d made such a mess. “I’m not sure.” The look he gave me told me he thought I was a fruitcake. My weird hairdo didn’t help. “Until a person’s been missing twenty-four hours, we can’t do much. But we’ll check out her apartment. You say the door was open?” “That’s right.” “So is Sherry a friend of yours?”

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“Well, not exactly a friend. Sort of a friend of a friend.” “Who’s the friend?” I realized my mistake, and back-pedaled. “Tiffany,” I lied. “Tiffany Robinson. She’s worried about her.” “Then why isn’t she here with you to fill out a report?” “She’s out of town for the weekend.” “Uh-huh.” His eyes narrowed. “Seems like trouble sorta follows you around, Ms. Hailstone.” I gave him a weak smile. “You have no idea.” “We never did find that man you rescued. Seems he’s disappeared into thin air. Sure hope he’s all right.” Something about his tone made my scalp crawl. As far as the police were concerned, Cooper was completely unrelated to Sherry’s apartment being ransacked. My instincts told me that even mentioning Cooper was just a tad suspicious. But maybe I was overreacting.

“I don’t think so,” Cooper said when I told him as much on the way home. “According to your father, Norman Jackson was a dirty cop. He probably still has a few friends at the precinct. I’m keeping my head down, just in case.” Thick, menacing rain clouds hung low in the afternoon sky by the time we arrived back at the shop. All the talk about dirty cops and missing girlfriends made me glad Cooper was with me, which seemed odd, since I didn’t scare easily and considered myself to be very levelheaded. But I was relieved Cooper hadn’t pressed the idea of going back to his place, since it saved me thinking up a reason for him to hang around. I told myself I wanted him to stay with me because there were goons on the loose, and there was safety in numbers, but who was I kidding? I liked Cooper. I liked him a lot.

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As I unlocked the door and stepped into the back hallway, I heard a noise coming from the front of the shop. “What’s that?” Cooper asked over my shoulder. I shrugged, took a few tentative steps forward and peered into the doorway. Stu, one of the wrestlers from the bar, stood at the front counter, wielding a large crowbar.

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Seven “W

ell, look who finally decided to show,” Stu spat out through tobacco-stained teeth. He was bull-necked and barrel-chested, and he didn’t look happy. My heart rapped against my ribs as fear leaked into every part of my body. Cooper stepped into the shop ahead of me, but I elbowed around him. He stopped me from getting in front of him with his cast. “What the hell do you want?” he demanded bravely. Stu grinned. “Same thing I wanted before.” “Well, I want something too, tough guy,” Cooper challenged. Stu’s eyebrow shot up. “What’s that?” “My bike.” “Don’t know nothing about no bike.” Stu’s right hand tightened around the crowbar as he slapped it against his left hand. “Then let me refresh your memory,” Cooper said. “It’s a

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good-looking Harley, straight out of your dreams. Chrome, gold, and black. Some dimwit bastard, probably you, stole it, and I want it back. You give me my bike, and you’ll get that little piece of paper.” When I saw Stu’s eyes flash, I realized we were right. That list was important, and it was the reason Cooper had been attacked. I grabbed Cooper by his cast. “What the hell are you doing, bargaining with that list?” I hissed under my breath. “If you give it to him, I’ll never find out what’s going on.” “Hannah, let me handle this.” “You’re bluffing,” Stu accused. “You probably don’t even have it.” Cooper reached behind me and patted my bottom. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d pulled a rabbit out of thin air. I was about to point out that this was hardly the time or the place for seduction, when he pulled the list from my pocket and held it up in the air. “Cooper, what are you doing?” I screamed. I grabbed the paper, pulled, and accidentally ripped it in two. Now we each had a piece. “Bring back my bike, and it’s yours,” Cooper said. Stu’s forehead wrinkled as he mulled over his choices. Clearly he wasn’t a thinking man. He swung the crowbar violently to his right, wiped out the shelf nearest him, and smashed it to pieces, sending hundreds of jars of vitamin capsules and powders spilling onto the floor. Tiffany was going to be pissed when she saw the destruction of her favorite display. “We’re through talking,” Stu snarled. When he swung the crowbar at Cooper, my stomach plummeted to my knees. Cooper grabbed the stepladder I use to take inventory and swiped at Stu like a lion tamer. The metal

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ladder smashed into the crowbar with a sharp clang and Stu charged Cooper like a freight train. One thing I knew for certain. Cooper was in no condition to take on this man. I bolted forward , jumped up and planted both feet into Stu’s gut, sending him flying backwards into another shelf. He landed with a thud into a pile of rye cracker boxes. I lunged at him again, but Stu managed to get to his feet in time to scramble away from me. I didn’t give him a chance to take a breather. I hit the air with a scissor kick and came down hard on his backside this time. He crumpled into a heap with a moan. When he looked up again, Cooper stood over him, clutching the crowbar. Stu stayed hunched over and slowly got to his feet. A split second before I realized I couldn’t see his hands, he surprised us both and pulled a gun out of his jacket. “Now, where were we?” he sneered as he limped backwards. Maybe Dr. Burly had warned him about my air kick. Stu was too far away for me to try to go for the gun. I’d get a bullet between the eyes before I even landed. “We were nowhere,” Cooper shot back. “You tell whoever you’re working for to kiss my ass. Until I see my Harley in one piece, you can all go to hell.” I didn’t know whether to hug Cooper for being brave, or dropkick him for being stupid. Did he think he could out talk a gun? When the floor creaked behind us, we all turned. Joel stood there, naked from the waist up and without his baseball cap, brandishing the .22 caliber revolver I’d recovered from Dr. Burly at the hospital. Tiffany stood behind him, clutching a commercial-size can of extra-virgin olive oil, and wearing only Joel’s shirt. “You heard the man, dude,” Joel barked. “Now haul ass.”

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Judging by the look on his face, Stu realized he’d been out manned. He let loose a string of curses. “This ain’t over,” he mumbled as he backed toward the door. He kept one eye trained on everyone as he fumbled with the doorknob, opened the door and squeezed his ample bulk out into the pouring rain. A relieved silence followed. “Thanks, kid,” Cooper said to Joel. “That was good work.” “Oh, baby, you were awesome,” Tiffany purred as Joel flushed. Cooper’s eyes caught mine, and he gave me a smile that melted my bones. “And you were slammin’.” I beamed at him. “Thanks.” Two questions burned the tip of my tongue. What were Joel and Tiffany doing in the back storage room on a Sunday while the shop was closed, as if I couldn’t guess? And how had Joel found the gun, which I’d hidden behind the water heater since I didn’t want it in my apartment? The answers would be very interesting, but I decided not to ask them until I could thank Joel properly. “Joel, I owe you one. I promise, I’ll never kick you out of my shop again.” I noticed with surprise that Joel had jetblack hair, spiked with gel. He looked different without his baseball cap. Joel grinned. “Anytime, Boss.” “But,” I continued in my most adult voice, “if anyone finds out I allowed a minor to wave a gun around, I’m dead meat, so let’s keep this little incident to ourselves, shall we?” “I’m down with that, Boss, but it’s not even loaded,” Joel assured me. “How stupid do you think I am? By the way, where do you hide the bullets?” “Never mind.” I watched Tiffany carefully lower the can of olive oil onto the floor. “May I ask why you needed olive oil?”

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Tiffany shrugged. “It was the only thing heavy enough to use as a weapon.” I turned to Cooper, who was guarding his ribs with his good arm. “Are you hurt?” Cooper waved away my concern. “Nah. Just wrenched my side picking up that ladder. Believe me, I’ve been in worse fights.” “No shit?” Joel’s face lit up. “What kind of fights?” “Let’s save this conversation until later,” I pleaded as my shoulders sagged. “Was he one of the creeps who beat you up?” “Yeah.” “I think it was a mistake offering him the list. My father’s name is on it, and we have no idea why.” “I thought it would help me get my bike back,” Cooper argued. “These goons aren’t going to go away, are they?” “I doubt it. Listen, it’s your call,” Cooper said, “but I think you should close the shop for a few days. It’s too dangerous now that they know I’m here.” “They must have followed me.” “Or traced your plates. Either way, you need to relocate. I don’t want anyone else in trouble because of me.” Tiffany looked horrified. “Close the shop? But like, what about our fall sale? Our pre-Halloween specials?” Tiffany would end up being of the CEO of a major corporation, of that I was certain. “Tiffany, I appreciate your concern, but right now our safety takes precedence over my October sales figures. Cooper’s right. We need to disappear for a while.” I rubbed my temple to soothe my sudden headache. “We could go to my mother’s house. She won’t mind.” I just hoped my mother was decent. She sometimes pranced around the house in her underwear, belting out Rolling Stones songs.

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Stu had gained entrance to the shop by jimmying the lock with his crowbar, so Cooper and Joel nailed the front door shut with a piece of wood. It would do until I could call the locksmith in the morning for a replacement. I hung a sign at the door that read, ‘Closed for Inventory’. It seemed more professional than saying, ‘Closed until further notice because hoodlums are threatening manager’s life.’ We cleaned up what we could of the mess, said goodbye to Tiffany and Joel, and prepared to leave. I shoved a howling, flat-eared King Arthur into his traveling crate. “Well, I guess that’s that,” I said uncertainly as I surveyed the shop and grabbed my tote bag. “You’re worried about the store, aren’t you?” Cooper asked. “No,” I scoffed, a little too quickly. “Well...maybe a bit.” “So you do care about your business.” “It puts food on the table and gas in my car. Of course I care.” Cooper slung his knapsack over his shoulder and I picked up King’s crate. I double-checked the bolt lock on the back door, and we hurried for the car. The rain poured down in sheets, making it difficult to drive. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. For a while the only sound in the car was the flapping of the wipers. “You know,” Cooper said thoughtfully, “you should sell something you believe in. The money you’d make would be the same, and you might be happier.” “I’m already happy.” “Uh-huh.” “You don’t think I’m happy?” “You tell me.” I was happier than I would have been arguing in a courtroom. Maybe being manager of Herb & Al’s wasn’t my fantasy career, but it wasn’t so bad.

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“The job’s okay. Believing in the product doesn’t matter in the end. It’s all about profit. Everyone assumes just because you sell health food you have to be some granola-crunching, Birkenstock-clad hippy dip. I mean, if I sold widgets for household appliances, does that make me a handyman? It’s irrelevant what I sell. The point of the whole thing is to supply what the consumer demands, to sell at competitive prices, to be aware of the latest market trends.” Cooper saluted. “Move over Donald Trump.” “But it’s true. Health is really in these days. People are obsessed. I’m only giving them what they think they need.” “But you don’t think they need it?” “All you need to do to stay healthy is do what the Chinese do. Everything in moderation. Don’t obsess about things. That causes more stress, in the end. Eat a balanced diet and walk a lot.” “What about happiness?” We were back to that again. “What about it?” Cooper smiled. “Well, isn’t it important to be happy? To have someone who makes you happy?” Butterflies swarmed in my navel. “Yeah, I guess.” “You know, I find it hard to believe a beautiful girl like you doesn’t have guys all over her.” No guy had ever called me beautiful before. Smart, cute, perky, spunky, plucky, but never beautiful. Cooper fingered the strands of hair at the back of my neck as heat crept up my chest and my throat closed over. “I haven’t had that many boyfriends,” I croaked. “Why not?” “I don’t know. The guys I really liked, I was too shy to talk to, so they figured I was stuck up. The ones I didn’t like I avoided like the plague. My first and only boyfriend in high school slobbered a lot.”

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“What about college?” “Two or three.” Cooper frowned. “Was Nigel one of them?” I bit my lip. “Yeah. I liked him a lot, but he was always in a hurry, if you get my meaning. Frankly, I never understood what all the fuss was about.” Cooper made a clicking sound with his tongue. “You hang out with the wrong guys.” How was it that his voice could send delicious sensations from the top of my head to the tip of my toenails? I was breathing too hard to speak, so I concentrated on driving while Cooper rubbed the back of my neck with his hand. It was all I could do not to pull over onto the shoulder and jump into his lap. “You’re really tense,” Cooper muttered absently while his warm fingers worked their magic. “Be careful,” I said tightly. “That’s your left hand you’re using. Don’t strain your arm.” “It’s fine,” Cooper said. “Are you okay?” By this time I was on fire, and my eyes were half closed. Which isn’t good when you’re driving. “Fine,” I rasped. “You look kinda jittery to me. If you want me to lay off, just say so.” No, don’t do that. Oh, God, no. Keep doing what your doing. “Well, for one thing, we just met,” I began lamely, to test the waters. I mean if this thing he did with his hands was going to go somewhere, which I prayed it was, I wanted to know where I stood. “Yeah, and?” Cooper asked. “You already have a girlfriend.” Cooper shook his head. “Had. We’re on—” “The rocks, yes,” I interrupted, “but what does that mean, exactly?”

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“We’re history.” “Okay, but you just broke up. So maybe I’m worried you still have feelings for this Sherry woman. Maybe you’re on the rebound. I mean, how long did you go out?” “A few months. It’s no big deal.” “Well, maybe all your relationships are no big deal,” I yammered on. “The last thing I need is to get hurt, you know?” Cooper pulled away. My skin turned cool where his hand had been. Well, aren’t you the smart one, Hannah. “Yeah, I guess getting hurt is a possibility,” Cooper agreed. “For both of us.” What a sweet thing to say. He meant that I could break his heart. Me. “So, that’s a legitimate reason to be careful,” I added lamely. By the time I pulled into my mother’s driveway I was a wreck. I’d never been so ambivalent about anything before. On one hand, I knew being cautious was probably the best way to go. I really didn’t know a whole lot about Cooper. On the other hand, my body screamed at me, I want him to touch me again. So stop with the ‘I could get hurt’ routine, already. We sat in awkward silence while I wondered what Nancy Drew would do. In all honesty, the most I could remember Nancy doing when Ned kissed her was to become more breathless. I was way beyond that. I was about to spontaneously combust. I had a feeling Nancy wouldn’t approve. “What are you thinking?” Cooper asked me softly. I smiled at him, and opened my mouth to tell him all about my obsession with the super sleuth. Instead, I leaned forward and planted one on him. Cooper didn’t need any encouragement. He framed my face with his hands and soon our tongues were playing hide and seek.

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Eventually I came up for air. “I have to get King Arthur inside.” Cooper’s mouth curved in reply and he kissed me on the side of my neck. I shivered. He began to nibble on my ear. “To hell with him,” he mumbled lazily. As if on cue, King began a low howl. “That’s...oh...very nice. I mean...not very nice.” His mouth covered mine once more and he kissed me until my whole body was paralyzed with pleasure. “Cooper,” I managed between kisses, “I never date guys who don’t like animals.” Cooper pulled his head back and sat up stiffly. “Then we’d better get him out of that crate. The poor thing probably hates being caged in.” I blinked and nodded, unable to find any words that would make sense. When Cooper opened the car door and began his labored exit, I did the same. Although my legs had turned to jelly, I managed to wrestle King’s crate out of the back seat and hobble up to my mother’s front door. My hair was messy from Cooper’s fingers running through it, and I was so weak-kneed I sagged against him for support.

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Eight M

y mother opened the door, took one look at Cooper and forgot I was standing on her front porch too. “Well, hello there, handsome,” she purred. My mother is the Last of the Red-hot Mamas. She was very popular in high school, and owns a large inventory of photographs of all her past boyfriends. I have a horrible feeling she was easy as a teenager, but I prefer not to think about it. That all happened in another life, before she became my mother. I hope. My parents divorced ten years ago. My father had a doomed affair with Midge, the beautician at the Kwik Kut, and although my mother is an ex-flower child artist, and as flaky as they come, she decided she didn’t want to share her husband with her hairdresser. My girlfriends all love my mother since she acts like one of them. The few guys I’ve brought home love her even more, which is probably why I avoid bringing guys home. “Mom, this is Cooper.”

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“Of course it is,” my mother said as she took his hand in hers and batted her eyelashes. “Come in, come in. It’s so nice to meet you, Cooper.” “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.…” Cooper glanced uncertainly at me and finished, “Hailstone.” “Oh, for heaven sake, honey, don’t call me Mrs. anything. It makes me sound so old. My name is Jasmine.” My maternal grandmother must have gotten a kick out of naming her kids. My mother has a sister named Blossom and a brother named Forrest. Grandmother Finch loved gardening and anything green. My mother glanced at the pile of luggage on her doorstep. “Are we having a sleepover?” Telling her a very large man with a crowbar had run me out of my shop didn’t seem like a good idea, so I came up with something easier to swallow. “I’m having my place painted, and the fumes were overpowering. It’s just for a few days.” I felt like the doorman as I struggled with our bags, and the crate containing my now thoroughly pissed cat, while my mother commandeered Cooper’s complete attention. Before long she had him settled at the kitchen table engrossed in a very personal conversation while I got stuck making coffee for everyone. “Tell me about the fight,” my mother murmured, still holding Cooper’s hand. I wasn’t sure, but Cooper looked decidedly uncomfortable with all this attention. “It was dark,” Cooper said. “I don’t remember much about it. It’s thanks to Hannah I didn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere. When I crawled into her car, she drove me to the hospital.” My mother winked at me indulgently. “That’s my Hannah. She’s very capable. Always has been. What do you do for a living, Cooper?”

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“I’m a certified mechanic.” “Oh, I love a man who knows his way around a tool box,” my mother said. “Tell me, my engine’s been making funny noises whenever I put it in neutral. What do you suppose it means?” “It means your engine’s overheating,” I interrupted as I placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the table. “Mom, Cooper doesn’t want to talk about your car problems. We’ve got enough problems already.” I grabbed my mug and joined them at the table. “I have something more important to ask you.” My mother let go of Cooper’s hand, took a sip of coffee, and made a face. “Honestly, Hannah, this coffee is strong enough to peel wallpaper. And what could be more important than my car? If it breaks down, how am I going to buy my supplies?” To Cooper, she added, “Did Hannah tell you? I’m an artist. I’m hoping to display my most recent works at the Bloomington Gallery in the spring.” Cooper smiled politely. “Cool.” “Is there anything wrong with Dad?” I persisted. “Is he in some kind of trouble, that you know of?” “Trouble?” “Maybe you ladies would prefer to talk about this alone.” “Nonsense,” my mother admonished, “we’re all friends here, aren’t we? Which brings me to the most important question: Are you and Hannah seeing each other?” Cooper glanced at me with raised eyebrows. His right eye had finally opened a bit, and now both eyes twinkled at me with amusement. “No, Mom, we’re not seeing each other.” She frowned. “Then why are you together?” “Because we’re trying to figure out if Dad is in trouble, and we’re trying to find out where Cooper’s motorcycle is,” I explained. “It’s a mutually beneficial relationship.” “Sounds dreadfully boring,” my mother said as she took

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another sip. “There are so many other more exciting reasons for a young man and woman to spend time together. I swear, I don’t know what’s wrong with this generation. If I was twenty years younger—” “Mom.” “All right, all right. Why do you think your father’s involved?” I went over the whole story about finding the list in Cooper’s knapsack. “Did Dad pay his taxes last year?” My mother waved her hand at me. “Oh, Hannah, of course he did. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to try to shirk the IRS twice in one lifetime. No, if I had to guess...what other names did you mention?” I told her. “Well, Barry Donavan is as honest as the day is long. I can’t imagine he’d be in any kind of trouble. Sam Bernard’s another story. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. He sold my cousin a house that wasn’t fit for a dog.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “All I know about Ed Wheeler is his corned beef is always fresh. The only thing I can think of that they all have in common is they’re all male, and you know what that means.” Cooper and I blinked at her. “What does it mean?” I demanded. “Well, it means it probably has something to do with sex. No offense, Cooper,” she said, “but men have a habit of getting in over their heads where women are concerned.” Cooper threw me a lazy grin. “Really?” “I’m sorry, Mom, but you’ve lost me.” My mother’s voice dropped a few decibels, and she leaned forward. “Your father would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but he was caught in a prostitution raid a few months ago.”

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Say what? “A pr...prostitution—” “Raid,” my mother finished for me, as though she were my grade three teacher trying to teach me English grammar. “What can I say? I guess he’s having a mid-life crisis. It’s not unusual for men his age, you know.” I slumped into the chair, speechless. My father? Caught in a bordello? It was horrifying in so many ways I didn’t know what to think, or where to look. My mother continued on as if she’d just told me her secret recipe for meat loaf. “Anyway, that’s the only thing I can think of that might be of an unsavory nature. I can’t imagine why a list of men caught with prostitutes would be enough to kill for.” Neither could I. I looked at Cooper, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing. It was uncanny, how we seemed to know each other’s thoughts. “So what happened? Did Dad get arrested?” “No, but he was fined for patronizing, and he’s on probation. Your Uncle Forrest helped him, of course. But Hannah, this is top secret. Don’t you dare tell your father I told you.” As if. The mental image of my father as somebody’s john was not something I even wanted to imagine, let alone discuss out in the open. “So do you two want to share the guest room, or should I make up the hide-a-bed in the basement?” my mother asked. Cooper choked on his coffee, so I answered for both of us. “Make up the hide-a-bed, Mom. That’d be great.” We ordered pizza for supper, since my mother rarely cooks, and I spent an interesting evening learning all about Cooper through the questions my mother fired off at him. Questions I secretly wanted the answers to, but hadn’t had time to ask. He had a younger sister, his parents were still married, and they lived in Chicago. He’d moved to Normal a few months

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ago, after seeing the Help Wanted sign in the window of Tyler’s Garage. He’d had lots of girlfriends and traveled around the country whenever the mood struck. My mother finally decided it was late and, after organizing the bed situation and settling Cooper in the basement, she wandered off to watch television in her room. I had a long soak in the smelliest bubble bath I could find. My mind whirled. So my father was human. This wasn’t news. After all, I was the straight one in the family, the responsible one. But I guess every daughter wants her father to be perfect, like Carson Drew. Not that Dad didn’t have some of those qualities. He was affectionate, generous and devoted. But he was a little lacking when it came to dishing out fatherly advice. More often than not I ended up getting him out of scrapes. Like the time he told his clients to keep investing in falling stock so he could protect his own shares. As knowledge of the plummeting stock grew, I suggested it may not be a good idea for him to recommend the stock, no matter how intent he was not to lose his money. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to be a lawyer so badly. I’d already guessed that Cooper had lots of experience with women, because of the way he’d made a pass at me after knowing me only one day. He probably had a girl in every town across the mid-west, and routinely charmed his way into their beds. His charm certainly worked on me. I was on my way to the kitchen for a glass of water when I bumped into Cooper, who apparently had the same thing on his mind. “Hey,” he said. “Hi.” Cooper wore a white tee-shirt and boxers. The edge of his tattoo was visible underneath his right shirtsleeve. “Your mother’s really something.” His eyes gravitated to

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my breasts, and I wondered what could be so fascinating. Then I remembered I was wearing my Winnie the Pooh pajamas. “Yeah. Something.” “So are you sure about the guest room thing?” Heat rose from my belly, straight to my throat. “What do you mean?” Cooper took my hand. “I got the impression your mother wouldn’t care if I didn’t sleep in the basement.” He linked his fingers with mine and caused the air to rush out of my lungs all at once. “Oh.” Cooper smiled. “My mother would freak out if I took a girl home and slept with her.” He squeezed my hand. “You don’t want to, do you?” Yes.

My old bedroom now served as a storage room for my mother’s painting supplies, but my Goo Goo Dolls poster still hung on the wall opposite my bed. I stared at it the next morning and wondered if I’d made the right decision when I’d politely declined Cooper’s offer. I wasn’t a virgin, but doing it with my mother asleep in the next room was too freaky. Cooper was very understanding. He just grinned at me and gave me a goodnight kiss that turned my bones to mush. I dressed in my running outfit, borrowed some of my mother’s lipstick—she had surprisingly hip taste in make up— and dabbed some of her perfume under my earlobes. I found my mother sitting at the kitchen table alone, reading a newspaper. “Good morning, darling,” she greeted me. “Slept well, did you?”

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“Yeah, slept great.” King Arthur curled his body around my legs, winding in and out. He had decided to forgive me for hauling him out of his home and keeping him locked in a cage in the car while Cooper and I necked in the front seat. “What can I make you for breakfast? It’s been a long time since we had breakfast together.” I pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t ever remember you making me anything for breakfast.” To my mother’s pout, I added, “Well, it’s true. I love you a ton, Mom, but you’re not exactly domesticated.” “You make it sound as though I’m some kind of wild animal,” she said. “Okay. I’ll have some toast and coffee.” “I think I can just about manage that.” She pushed out of her chair and moved to the counter to pour me a cup of coffee. “I must say, Hannah, your taste in men has taken a turn for the better. Yummy.” My shoulders slumped in defeat. “I keep telling you, Mom, Cooper and I aren’t a couple.” “Well, you should be.” “I hardly know him.” “Has he kissed you yet?” I couldn’t stop the flush that crept into my cheeks, and of course, my mother didn’t miss it, either. “I knew it. He has kissed you. Was it good?” Orgasmic. I squirmed in my chair. “Mom, I don’t like talking about this stuff.” She handed me a plate of cold, barely toasted bread and a cup of coffee. “I don’t know why. We’re two adult women with a lot in common.” I huffed. “I’m not a bit like you.” “Maybe not at first glance,” my mother admitted, “but beneath that calm exterior beats the heart of a wild sex goddess.”

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My mother loved dramatics. It used to drive my father crazy when she started talking like this. I’d gotten used to it. “Anyway,” she continued, “I think Cooper is very sweet. And if he’s easy on the eyes, when his face goes back to normal, that is, and he’s a good kisser, what more could you ask for?” I took a bite of floppy toast. “The point is I’m not asking, Mom.” She rolled her eyes. “Why not?” “Because he’ll lose interest and be gone before I know it. Who needs the aggravation?” “Trust you to only look at the negatives. But maybe you’re right. Maybe he is a bit unpredictable. He sure took off early this morning.” The coffee I swallowed almost came back up. “What did you say?” “I said Cooper’s gone.”

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isappointment stunned me and I gaped at her. My mother studied her nails. “He took my car for a test drive. He said he had stuff to do, and didn’t want to bother you. In return, he’s going to fix it for me.” I wasn’t sure what upset me more. The fact that my mother had let a virtual stranger drive her precious car, which she never let me drive, or the fact that Cooper hadn’t said goodbye. “Where did he go?” “Well, how do I know?” I shot out of my chair and glared at her in disbelief. “He didn’t tell you?” My mother frowned. “No.” I began to pace the floor. “Hannah, for someone who claims she isn’t interested in a relationship, you sure are acting unusual.” I spread my hands in frustration. “Mom, someone is trying to kill Cooper. If he goes back to his place, they’ll probably be waiting for him. I don’t even know where he lives. Stupid. He’ll do something stupid, too, just to get his stupid bike back.”

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My mother listened with interest. “So you’re not just in this for your father’s sake. You care about Cooper, that’s obvious.” “So what if I do? I feel sorry for him. You know how I am with underdogs.” “And life is wonderful again, because Hannah has a cause.” I threw her a skeptical look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She stood, threw out her arms, and wrapped them around me. “It means I love you, and I’m proud of you.” I wasn’t in the mood for maternal bonding. “What am I going to do?” “Do?” I pushed away from her. “Mom, I don’t think you realize how serious this is. Do you know that paper came from inside the police department? What could that mean?” “Honey, the police probably have everyone’s name on some kind of list. Big Brother is watching every move you make. There are men who make a living sitting in vans, listening in on people talking inside their own homes. There’s no such thing as privacy anymore. I think you’re overreacting.” I dragged my hand through my mass of split ends. “I don’t think so. I’ve got this weird feeling in my stomach.” “I’ll tell you what it is,” my mother said. “It’s called lovesickness, and it’s caused by the fact that your man took off on you without telling you where he was going, or when he’ll be back. Believe me, darling, been there, done that, and I have every tee-shirt there is.” “No, Mom,” I said impatiently, “I mean I’m worried about Dad.” “Oh, don’t start with the ‘I’m having a bad hair day’ routine,” my mother said with disgust. “You know I hate it when you talk like that.”

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“Look at this.” I grabbed a fistful of hair and shook it in front of her. “Well, I didn’t want to mention it in front of Cooper, but I must say you’ve outdone yourself this time. What on earth were you thinking? I have a wonderful hairdresser, dear. He’d be happy to fix it.” “Mom, that’s not what I mean. If my hair is this bad, that means disaster is looming.” “Pardon me if I’m just a tad skeptical.” “Have I ever been wrong?” I demanded. My mother’s eyebrows shot up. “What about the time you were convinced Aunt Blossom was in a car accident? You had me scared senseless. It turned out she had a flat tire and ran off with the tow truck man.” “As far as I’m concerned, a flat tire counts as an accident.” My mother continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Then there was the time you wouldn’t come to the circus with the rest of the family because you were afraid you’d be crushed by an elephant.” “Well, maybe if I’d gone, I would have been,” I argued. My mother began to clear the dishes from the table. She only did that when she was trying to avoid the subject under discussion, since she hated housework of any kind. “Fine, Hannah. Believe what you want to believe. I have things to do today.” I picked up the milk jug and put it back in the fridge. “What things? Are you going to paint?” “I don’t work on Mondays. Who can be creative on a Monday? I’m an artist. I can’t just turn it on and off, you know.” She filled the sink and squeezed in some detergent. “I have some reading and mail to catch up on. What are your plans?” “I have to run a few errands.” “Well, pick up some cat food. You didn’t bring any for

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poor King Arthur, and I had to feed him canned tuna for breakfast.” I slunk outside and ran like a maniac to ease the general anxiety that hovered over me. When I was hot and panting, I loped back to the house, had a shower and changed into a pair of thick cords and my favorite cotton wool sweater. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and surveyed the result in the mirror. The purple highlights had turned pink. It was time to get some answers.

A brisk wind chased creamy clouds across the horizon, sending a tremor through the remaining leaves on the trees. I drove into town with a determination I hadn’t felt in months. My father’s office was in Bloomington. I took the main drag south, swung right onto West Graham, and right again onto North Lee. His office occupied the right side of a small red brick building, next to a plumbing supply company. It had been a while since I’d darkened his office door, mostly because I still suffered from guilt over not becoming Matlock. Matlock was Dad’s hero and he’d been deprived of bragging rights. When Lorna, my father’s receptionist, saw me wander into the office, she finished licking an envelope and gave me a toothy grin. “Hey, look who’s here. How’s it going, Hannah?” Lorna had short, black hair, which I suspected would be gray were it not for her frequent trips to the beauty parlor. Her age was a mystery, but I pegged her at the upper end of her forties. Still, I could only hope to be that well put together when I reached her age. She sported a snappy haircut, owned lots of cool costume jewelry, and dressed like a Sears catalogue model. I’m not doing that great. I just found out my father hangs with prostitutes. “Okay. How’s it going with you?”

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“Finally got my hot tub. You should come over and try it out.” “How’d you manage that? I thought your husband said it was too expensive.” Lorna gave a sly smile. “I promised Fred I’d make it worth his while.” “In other words, you promised him frequent sex.” She pointed a polished fingernail at me. “Works every time.” “I’ll remember that. Is my father around?” “Sorry, he’s got meetings most of the morning. But he might pop back before lunch. You’re welcome to wait, if you want.” I thanked Lorna and headed for the back of the office, past a small conference room and a supply room that contained the usual gizmos: a photocopier, a fax machine, a water cooler and a coffee maker. Dad’s office took up the opposite corner. Having a few minutes alone to poke around his desk and bookshelves might be a worthwhile way to pass the time. I mentally slapped down my guilty conscience and told myself that I was his daughter, and since he wasn’t forthcoming about the mysterious list with his name on it, I’d have to find answers another way. I settled into the leather chair behind his desk. There wasn’t much to find in his top drawer. He was a neat freak. Pens, pencils, a stapler, some envelopes. A bag of licorice Allsorts, his favorite. No incriminating notes that said, ‘I’m in trouble and Norman Jackson’s the reason.’ The second drawer contained a calculator, some new computer discs and an empty writing pad. The bottom drawer was locked. There was a photograph of me on the credenza behind his desk. It was my high school graduation picture. The last formal one taken of me, since I didn’t finish law school. It would likely be there in ten years time, covered in dust, since I couldn’t envision going back to school.

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When Lorna poked her head around the open door holding out two cups of coffee, I decided maybe she probably knew more about my father’s activities than I did these days. “Lorna, does Dad seem okay to you?” She perched on the desk and blew steam off the cup. “Sure, I guess. Why?” “Nothing specific, I just have this feeling he might be keeping something from me.” “Honey, he may be your father, but he’s still a man. Men love to keep secrets.” I sipped my coffee. “He ever do any business with Norman Jackson, the private eye?” “Jackson? He hates Jackson. You know that.” Sure I knew it. So maybe there was no connection with Jackson. “How about the people who work for Jackson? Say, his secretary? Would he have anything to do with her?” Now Lorna’s curiosity was well and truly piqued. Her pupils dilated and she blinked at me. “Why? Do you think he’s having an affair?” “Lorna, my parents are divorced. If he was seeing someone, it wouldn’t be an affair, it would be dating.” “So you think he’s doing the nasty with Jackson’s secretary?” I winced. It was too appalling to think about. Now I understood how vicious rumors got started. “Of course not,” I denied hotly, “for heaven’s sake, Jackson’s secretary is my age.” Wasn’t she? I didn’t know how old she was. I only assumed she was young because she was Cooper’s ex-girlfriend. But I knew nothing about him. Maybe he liked dating older woman. My mother had liked him well enough. I was getting sick to my stomach at the sudden twist my thoughts were taking. “What’s the matter with you? You look a little green around the gills.”

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I heaved an irritated sigh. “I’m simply asking you if you’ve noticed anything unusual, that’s all.” “Well, no. The only thing I can think of is he’s been playing the ponies a lot.” She glanced around nervously. “Don’t tell your father I know that. It’s really none of my business, and I’m not supposed to know.” I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know he’s been playing the horses?” “Marvin told me.” This wasn’t good news. Lorna’s brother Marvin was a bookie on the side. Nobody was supposed to know that either, but everyone did. Racetrack and riverboat gambling were legal in the state of Illinois. Using a bookie definitely wasn’t. I showed Lorna the list, which I’d taped back together. “Do you recognize the other names, besides Dad’s?” She knew Eddie Wheeler, Barry Donavan, and Sam Bernard. “J. Drummond. Must be Joe Drummond. He works over at Bug B Gone.” “Bug B Gone?” “The Pest Eliminators. Over on East Chestnut.” I stood and checked my watch. “I’ve got a few things to do. Maybe I’ll check back closer to lunchtime.” “Try stopping by Fat Jack’s. Your father usually grabs a sandwich there around noon.” I thanked Lorna again and hopped back in the car. The next stop was High Wheeler’s Delicatessen over on South Cottage. I hadn’t been to High Wheeler’s in ages, ever since Tiffany had started nagging me about the evils of nitrates. I realized how much I’d missed the place when I walked in and the tantalizing aroma of pastrami and smoked ham greeted me. God, how I love cold cuts. I was drooling over the fresh-from-the-oven Italian bread when a pert redhead approached me.

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“Can I help you?” “Is Mr. Wheeler around?” “He’s in the back. But we’re not hiring at the moment.” I smiled. “That’s nice, but I’m not looking for a job. My name is Hannah Hailstone, and I’m with Gatchell & Finch, the law firm. Do you mind if I pop back there? It won’t take long.” Her eyes widened doubtfully, but she nodded, and I stepped behind the counter and made for the back of the store, past a large slicing machine, a huge scale, and a massive butcher’s block. I found Ed Wheeler inside a tiny office, with a phone to his ear. Ed and my father were golf buddies, and our family had been invited to his house for a couple of pool parties, but that had been several years ago. “Andy, I ordered a hundred pounds. You sent me ten. How’s that gonna do me until next week? What? Is that my problem? Whatever. But keep in mind, you’re not the only supplier of ground beef in McLean County, you know.” Ed glanced at me as he hung up. “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t know you were there.” “Hi, Mr. Wheeler. I don’t know if you remember me. Hannah Hailstone?” He stood, shook my hand, and gestured to the only other chair in the tiny room. “Sure, I remember you. Judd’s daughter. What can I do for you, Hannah?” “Well, actually, I was hoping you could help me out,” I said brightly as I sat down. “I’m conducting a research study for my uncle’s firm. It’s of a rather delicate nature, but be assured, any answers you give me will be held in the strictest confidence.” Ed perched on the edge of his desk. “I didn’t know you were still working for your uncle.” “Technically, I’m not anymore,” I explained, pushing away the guilt that rose in my gut, “but this is extra work he’s assigned

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to me.” I held my breath and waited for the lightning bolt to strike me for lying, but nothing happened. I prayed Ed wouldn’t bump into Uncle Forrest and mention the bogus research study. “Well, go ahead, then,” Ed said. “What’s the research about?” “My uncle’s firm is studying consumer opinion on several legal topics. The one I’m inquiring about is the legalization of prostitution in the state of Illinois.” He whistled. “No kidding?” “I just need to ask you a couple of questions.” “Shoot.” “As a respected businessman in a moderate sized community, what would be the impact of the legalization of prostitution on your business?” “Shouldn’t you be writing this down?” I smiled thinly and pulled a pen and note pad out of my purse. Actually, it was a brochure from a protein soy supply company. “Well, I don’t think there’d be much change in my profits,” Ed began. “After all, I sell meat, not condoms. Unless it brought in more people from other states, which could be a possibility.” “Interesting. So you’re saying legalizing prostitution might increase the profits of all the commercial enterprises in town?” Ed got a far off look in his eye. “I can see it now. Men would come in droves from surrounding states, just to take advantage of it. Let’s face it, it’s been happening for centuries, and it’s not going to go away. You know, the world’s oldest profession, and all.” “One more question. Have you ever used any local prostitution services yourself?” Ed blushed. “Gee, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” “It’s for statistical purposes, only. For comparison figures, you understand.”

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“Either way, the answer is no,” Ed said emphatically. “I got a wife at home, who’s more than enough for me, if you catch my meaning. Why the hell would I need to pay for it?” He glanced around secretively and spoke under his breath. “The wife even knows how to pole dance. Put that in your research study.” Too much information. I estimated Ed’s wife to be approximately a hundred and sixty pounds. The thought of her pole dancing for Ed, who was a walking advertisement for his deli thanks to an enormous paunch, grossed me out. But I couldn’t blame Ed for spilling details about his sex life. After all, I’d brought up the subject to begin with. It was a subject I had no intention of discussing with my father, no matter how much I wanted to solve the mystery of the list. Just as Lorna predicted, I found my father sinking his teeth into a club sandwich at Fat Jack’s over on North Main. Technically, Fat Jack’s was a bar, but they drew quite a crowd for lunch and were known for their sandwiches and twentyseven kinds of beer. My father threw me a grin when he saw me and I kissed him on the cheek before I sunk into the chair opposite him. “I haven’t seen you for three weeks, and now you’re popping up everywhere,” he said. “What’s on your mind?” The sex lives of four middle-aged men. I couldn’t fool the old man. We enjoyed a close relationship, but I didn’t usually stalk him like this, and we both knew it. “Just…you know, running errands,” I hedged as I stole a French fry off his plate. My discussion with Ed had given me nothing but a queasy stomach. After visiting Barry the chiropractor and Sam the realtor, who both were prepared to swear on their mother’s

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graves they’d never visited a prostitute, it became apparent that I was barking up the wrong tree. I knew Sam, the sleazy realtor, was lying through his teeth, but if he frequented cathouses, I could care less. Joe Drummond, the pest eliminator, was visiting family in St. Louis, according to his co-worker. “Let me guess,” my father continued. “You’re worried about that stupid list, and I didn’t give you the answer you were looking for, so you’re going to drive me crazy until you’re satisfied.” I nodded. “Something like that.” “So who’s the guy?” Classic diversionary tactic. The best defense is offense. “Just a guy.” “How’d you meet?” Dad already knew Cooper had been in a fight, so I filled him in on the rest of the details after I ordered a diet soda and a chicken wrap. “Never mind about Cooper,” I told him. “I’ve been doing some poking around.” “Uh-oh.” “I’ve spoken to most of the people on the list.” “And?” I couldn’t tell him I knew about the prostitution bust. I’d promised my mother, and it was too icky to think about anyway. “Nothing. There’s no obvious connection, from what I can tell.” Maybe I imagined it, but a look of relief crossed his face. I decided to come clean with what worried me the most. “Dad, the only person who could have put this list in Cooper’s bag is his ex-girlfriend. We tried to talk to her, but she’s disappeared.” My father nodded, and concentrated on his sandwich. “So?” “So her name is Sherry, and she works for Norman Jackson.”

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My words had a dramatic effect on my father. He stopped eating and gazed at me for several long seconds. Then he finished chewing, swallowed, picked up a napkin, and wiped his mouth. I figured I’d go for broke. “There’s something else. A friend of mine thinks the list is from a police computer.” My father put the sandwich back on the plate. “A police computer? Jesus.” He leaned forward. “Listen, Hannah, I don’t want you anywhere near Jackson. You hear me? He’s bad news.” “But what would he be doing with—?” “I mean it. This is not up for discussion.” I waited a beat, and then nodded. “Okay.” My order arrived and we turned the conversation toward more mundane subjects. It was a ritual we were good at. Discussing meaningless stuff to avoid talking about topics that could potentially cause a lot of strain. The truth was, not only did we love each other as family members should, we liked each other a lot too. So we avoided honesty at all costs, because that would ruin the mutual admiration thing we had going. Since my dramatic exit from law school, which had caused the most serious rift between us yet, I wasn’t ready to rock the boat again. After lunch Dad beat a retreat back to his office and I decided to pay Lorna’s younger brother Marvin a visit. He owned a small store on East Oakland. He sold collectible coins, card games and board games, in addition to his other activities. Marvin was divorced, had a beer belly and treated all women as potential conquests. The first time I met him was at Dad’s office Christmas bash a year ago. He ogled me most of the evening and grabbed my butt when I passed him on my way to the cash bar. I worked hard to avoid him for the duration of the party, but he finally cornered me behind the Christmas tree and asked me out on a date. I politely refused and told him I already had a boyfriend, which was a bald faced lie. Lorna got wind of the news about

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my new love, and wanted to meet him. For months afterward, I had to make up stories about me and my imaginary boyfriend, until I couldn’t stand my web of lies anymore, and broke off with him, in my head. Marvin was at the counter playing solitaire. I couldn’t just walk up and ask him if the rumors were true that he was conducting illegal bookmaking out of his premises, so I decided to fish around. He leered when he saw me. “Hi, Hannah. Heard you quit school.” I’d already resigned myself to the fact that ‘Hannah Hailstone, who quit school’ would be engraved on my epitaph. “I manage a store now. Herb & Al’s Herbals.” Marvin nodded, but I could tell he’d never heard of it. He didn’t look like the tofu type. His idea of health food was a lemon slice on fish and chips. “Cute. Herb, Al. Herbal. I get it.” “Listen, Marvin, a friend of mine is coming into town, and I want to show her a fun time, and I was thinking of taking her up to Peoria, to the riverboat casino.” He eyed me suspiciously. “What you telling me for?” “Lorna says you’ve been a few times. I’ve never been there. Maybe the racetrack’s a better idea. What do you think?” Marvin shoulders relaxed. “Depends what you’re into. Horses or blackjack.” “I like horses.” “So take her to the racetrack.” “Yeah, maybe I will,” I said. “So, I just go up there and tell them I want to place a bet? Is that how it works?” The gears in Marvin’s head were spinning so fast I could almost hear them. He glanced around furtively, and I knew he was about to fill me in on his second job. But the bell on the front door tinkled, and a customer walked in, and my chance passed.

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Marvin looked at me evenly. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it works. Is your friend single? Maybe we could—” “Actually, she’s married...to a champion body builder. Gotta go. Thanks.” I waved goodbye to Marvin and went back to my car to think. The only thing I knew so far was that the list didn’t appear to be connected to the prostitution raid. When I’d mentioned Sherry’s name to my father, he hadn’t blushed or stammered. So my theory that maybe the list was all the men Sherry had dated in the last month didn’t sound feasible, either. But my father had turned to stone when I’d mentioned Jackson’s name.

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ackson’s office was on the corner of North Street and Broadway. It was a plain building with gray siding and a single window in front. Venetian blinds hung at the window, but they were redundant. The grime that covered the windowpane prevented anyone from looking in anyway. The sign over the door said, ‘Jackson Investigations.’ When I pushed the door open, I still had no idea what to say, so I faked it. “Hi,” I gushed to the woman at the desk. “Is Sherry here?” The secretary wore her blond hair back in a tight, high bun. So tight her eyes slanted. Her pink satin blouse was unbuttoned far enough to reveal cleavage any woman would be proud of. She pursed her lips and looked me up and down. “She’s sick today.” “That’s strange. I just came from her place, and there was nobody home.” Her plucked eyebrows twitched. “Whatever. All I know is, she called in sick.”

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“Is Mr. Jackson in?” “No.” “Is he sick too?” I asked innocently. All it got me was a sneer. “The boss is not in the office a lot. He’s out investigatin’.” “Right.” I moved toward the door. “Well, thanks for your help.” Not. As I walked back to the car, I was seized by a sudden compulsion to peek into the office windows that faced the back of the building. There was no one around. What harm could it do? And wouldn’t you know it, there was Miss Bun chatting to none other that her boss, Norman Jackson, whom she had told me was out investigating. I hated liars even more than I hated bullies. Time to call in the big guns.

Manny Horwitz was a client of my father’s. He was a Ukrainian immigrant who had trouble achieving the American dream. None of the banks would lend him the money to get his small appliance business off the ground. My father believed he could help Manny come up with some cash for the inventory he needed, so he made a few solid investments on Manny’s behalf, and a year later Manny had bought a building. Manny was a mild-mannered, extremely polite gentleman, and never forgot people who went the extra mile. He told my father he would forever be in his debt. The man was a genuine pussycat. He was also a master locksmith. I found Manny at the back counter of his appliance store, unscrewing the bottom off a toaster.

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“Hi, Manny.” His face lit up. “Hannah, how are you? What brings you here?” We spent a few pleasant moments catching up. I told him my father was well, my mother was well, I was well. I asked him about his two children. One was in college across the state, the other worked at a large car manufacturing plant. They were both well. Down to business. “Manny, I know this is awfully presumptuous of me.…” Manny shook his head so hard his toupee almost fell off. “You need a favor? You only have to ask. Anything I can do for Judd, or Judd’s blood.” “Including breaking a lock?” I whispered. His eyes burned with excitement. “It’s done. Tell me where and when.” “They won’t know it’s been tampered with?” His chest puffed up like a bullfrog. “I’m a professional, Hannah. You’re hurting my pride.” “How about tonight, then? Say around midnight, corner of North Street and Broadway?” Manny nodded. “I’ll have a nap after dinner, to make sure I’m well rested.” I told him how grateful I was, then remembered what Stu did to the lock on my front door. I told Manny about it, and he promised to fix it on his way home from work. I wandered back to my car, deep in thought. The wind picked up again, sending litter and leaves tumbling down the street. I noticed a pink Cadillac parked at the corner, the kind those make up sales ladies drive. The same one I’d seen outside High Wheeler’s and Fat Jack’s. Call me crazy, but if I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was being followed. I slid behind the wheel and locked the doors. Maybe I’d

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read too many Nancy Drew novels. Maybe I should switch to non-fiction. Keeping one eye in the rear-view mirror and one eye on the traffic ahead of me, I headed across town. Sure enough, the Caddy stuck with me. It was hard to imagine Stu or Dr. Burly preferring a pink Cadillac to a red pickup truck, but nothing surprised me anymore. I pulled into the drive-thru of Jimmy John’s and got in line with the other cars. It was getting late, and early diners were honing in on their favorite restaurants. The Caddy sat two cars back. I waited until two more cars had pulled up behind it, and made my move. I pulled up to the order intercom, and bellowed, “Changed my mind. Sorry.” As the car ahead of me rolled forward to the pick-up window, I gunned the Olds over a small grass embankment, and tore back out onto Main Street. I executed a series of turns and double backs, and ended up on the west-end of town. I’d lost my tail. By the sounds coming from my engine, I’d also lost my muffler. I took a different route back to my mother’s house, so I could swing by my apartment and pick up the King’s food. The shop was dark and empty. There were no irate customers banging on the door, demanding their right to healthy food and vitamins. In fact, the citizens of Normal didn’t appear to have noticed we were closed. Just as well, since I didn’t feel comfortable keeping the shop open until Cooper’s goons were dealt with. I climbed the stairs, let myself in, and hurried to the kitchen. I pulled a large bag of dry cat kibble from the bottom kitchen cupboard, opened the fridge to look for something to snack on, and heard my toilet flush. My toilet never flushed by itself.

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I dropped the bag of kibble and it landed on my toe. I clapped my hand over my mouth to silence my grunt of pain and my gasp of surprise. Someone was in my apartment. Maybe Stu or Dr. Burly. I closed the fridge door quietly and looked around for a weapon. The revolver was hidden in the storage room again—in a different place so Joel couldn’t find it—so I opened the utensil drawer and pulled out the biggest, sharpest knife I could find. I tiptoed through the beaded curtains and across the living room, and had almost made it to my front door when a figure appeared from the bedroom. The figure screamed, and I joined in. “Tiffany?” I managed to say when I’d caught my breath. “Oh, Hannah, it’s only you. I almost peed my pants.” “That makes two of us. How did you get in here?” Tiffany wrung her hands. “I used the spare key. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “Why? Did your house burn down?” Her bottom lip trembled. “My parents don’t care about me, so I have to get a place of my own. But that takes time.” “Let me get this straight. You’ve run away? Your parents don’t know where you are?” Tiffany nodded. “What about Joel?” That got a more heated response. “Joel’s a jerk.” Oh, boy. “You had a fight?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” Tiffany said. Then she buried her face in her hands and started to wail. I set the knife on the coffee table and looked around for some tissues. I settled for toilet paper. I handed Tiffany a bunch and led her to the couch. We sat down, and I patted Tiffany’s back while she sobbed into the toilet paper until the worst of her crying jag had passed.

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“Can I stay here, Hannah? Just for a few days?” “You want to stay here? The same place that was broken into by a thug with a crowbar?” “I don’t care about him. I don’t care about anything. If anyone comes near me, especially a man, I’ll shoot him with your gun.” Hell hath no fury. “Look, Tiffany, you can’t stay here, but you could crash at my Mom’s place for a while, on one condition.” She sniffed loudly. “What?” “You tell your parents where you are.” “I can’t tell them I’m with you, they don’t...they think you’re—” “Yeah, I know. They don’t like me.” Tiffany’s parents thought I was a bad influence. I can’t imagine why. I didn’t handcuff her to the cash register and force her to cut classes. “They don’t have to know exactly where I am, though. I could tell them I’m at a sleepover or something,” Tiffany reasoned. Despite my better judgment and a funny tingle in my scalp, I drove Tiffany to my mother’s house. If my mother was surprised at having yet another houseguest, she didn’t show it. “Has Cooper returned your car yet?” I asked as I put away the King’s food. “Not yet,” my mother replied smoothly as she handed Tiffany a cup of steaming green tea. I hated green tea, so I settled for a glass of chocolate milk. I took a sip and tried not to obsess about Cooper’s whereabouts. Tiffany’s eyes and nose were as red as my hair, and my mother didn’t miss the signs of teenage crisis. “I’ll leave you two girls to chat. My soaps are on.” When my mother left the kitchen I looked pointedly at Tiffany. “Well? Spill. What’s going on?”

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“Everything’s a mess. My parents want me to go to Cornell next year. That’s so far away. I want to go to Illinois State. But they don’t care what I want. They never have,” Tiffany said miserably. “You’ve tried talking to them?” She pouted. “How can you talk to people who refuse to listen?” “How does Joel figure into this?” “He’s being a stupid, macho, chauvinist jerk. Do know what he said to me?” I had no idea, so I kept my expression blank. “He said I don’t need to go to university at all, ‘cause he’s not, he’s going to just keep his job pumping gas. I was like, what kind of future is that? And he was like, it’s a future with a paycheck. I was like, not a very big paycheck, and he was like, oh, so you want a boyfriend who’s rich. I was like, no, but I’d like a boyfriend with some ambition, who could maybe support a family someday, and he was like, whoa babe, who said anything about a family? This is way too heavy for me, man. I’m outta here.” Tiffany blew her nose. “And then he...he left.” “Big jerk.” “Men are pigs.” There was a knock at the door. I handed Tiffany more tissues and pushed out of the chair to answer it. Cooper stood on the front porch grinning and looking annoyingly yummy in faded jeans and a brown corduroy jacket. His right eye had opened wider and was surrounded by interesting shades of purple and yellow bruises. “Hey.” I was still scowling over Tiffany’s account of events, and Cooper’s grin wavered as he looked at me. “Where have you been?” I asked in a tone that sounded crankier than I meant it to. “When I woke up this morning you were gone. Just...gone.”

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Cooper regarded me cautiously. “I worked on your mother’s car all morning. Then I went back to my place.” “I thought we decided it was too dangerous for you to do that,” I said frostily. “Did we?” “Yes.” Cooper shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t remember deciding anything like that.” “Well, I guess it’s none of my business what you do, is it? I mean, you’re free to do as you please. After all, I barely know you, right?” I noticed a green pickup truck idling at the curb. “Who’s that?” “My boss. He’s giving me a lift back to the garage. I just wanted to drop off your mother’s car. It’s all fixed.” “Great, thanks. How much do we owe you?” “You don’t owe me anything.” He frowned. “Hannah, what’s going on?” “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Peachy.” “Can I come in?” “Your boss is waiting.” “Let him wait.” I opened the door wider, and Cooper stepped in. He glanced into the kitchen at the sound of a sniff. “Tiffany’s here,” I explained. “She’s run away from home, and she and Joel had a fight. He’s being a jerk, and I’m consoling her.” “Ah. So is this a male-bashing session?” “Sort of.” Cooper nodded with understanding. “Bad timing.” His quiet, sexy manner was hard to resist. After all, I could hardly blame him for all of the universal flaws of his gender. If he wanted to fly to the moon, he was entitled to, without me getting bitchy about it.

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I smiled an apology. His eyes sparkled and he took my hand and played with my fingers, sending goose bumps to places I didn’t know existed. “So what’d you do today?” Cooper asked quietly. “I spent a pretty useless day driving around town, talking to the people on the list.” “Did you talk to all of them?” He linked his fingers with mine and rubbed his thumb across my palm. “All but one,” I said, licking my lips. “He’s out of town.” “And?” “I don’t know what these people have in common. Maybe nothing.” Now Cooper put his arms around my waist, our hands still linked, and pulled me closer. “What about your father?” Who? “Um...had lunch with him. We talked, but not about anything important. We do that a lot. I found out a few other things, though. Dad likes to play the horses a little more than I thought, and someone is tailing me.” Cooper stiffened. “The red truck?” “No, this time it’s a pink Cadillac.” Cooper smelled of engine oil, lime and spice, and I resisted the urge to press my breasts against his chest. “Any luck finding Sherry?” “I spoke to her sister. Sherry called her yesterday. Apparently she sounded okay, a little flustered maybe, but wouldn’t say where she was. So at least she hasn’t been kidnapped. My apartment is in the same condition as hers, which was no surprise. Nothing’s missing, but I spent all afternoon cleaning up.” This was scary. “You’re not staying there, are you?” “No. I’ll crash at Grease’s place until I figure this all out.” He glanced toward Tiffany again. “I better let you get back to your male bashing. Try to keep an open mind. Let me know if you need any help. Sometimes a man’s opinion counts, believe it or not.”

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“I’ll remember that.” He squeezed my hands. “Maybe we could do something tonight. Dinner, or something.” Dinner sounded good. The ‘something’ sounded even better. But I already had a date with Manny, the locksmith.

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Eleven A

t quarter to midnight I snuck out of my mother’s house and drove to meet Manny at Jackson’s office. He was waiting for me, and in the time it took me to say ‘super size my fries’, he had the door open. I thanked him. He saluted me and slipped back into the shadows. I was on my own. Cooper had given me a rain check on his dinner invitation, so I’d spent the evening watching television with Tiffany, and then pretended to go to bed. I changed into a pair of black sweat pants and a black turtleneck. I felt like Cat Woman. I was pretty sure Nancy had committed breaking and entering several times in her youth, bending the rules to suit her own needs. At least she did until it became politically incorrect to break the law, forcing her to resort to turning doorknobs and finding them already unlocked. I should be so lucky. I entered the building, cast my flashlight around, then tiptoed to Jackson’s office in the back, trying to ignore the knots in my stomach. There was a desk, a leather swivel chair, a filing

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cabinet, a credenza and a bookcase. My nose twitched. The room smelled like dirty socks. I started with his desk. The top drawer was locked. There was a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a pack of smokes in the second drawer, along with a package of condoms. Ugh. Something shiny caught my eye. I picked it up and aimed my flashlight at it. It was a police badge. It looked real. His computer was coded up solid. My lame attempt at potential passwords didn’t work. I was no hacker. I opened the credenza, which was mostly filled with dogeared files, magazines and journals, including several issues of Eager Beaver. Guess I’d solved the mystery of who owned the magazine. I figured he wouldn’t keep anything really important in there, so I closed the credenza door and concentrated on his filing cabinet. I looked for my father’s or any of the other names from the list. I was about to despair of ever finding anything, when I spotted a file marked, Safe-tee Vaults. There were pages of information, all on the same computer sheets our list was on. Meaning this was a police department file. What was Jackson doing with police files? I scanned the documents in front of me. My heart sank when I saw my father’s name. It was scribbled in pen on an interoffice memo from Jackson to someone named Lenny. If I hadn’t seen the words with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it possible. I was debating whether Jackson would miss the file if I brought it home with me when I heard two car doors slam right outside the front of the building. My head shot up and I flicked off the flashlight. I put the file back, closed the filing cabinet drawer and stood on shaking knees. Someone was definitely fiddling with the front door. I crept out of the office. The streetlamp in the parking lot out back bathed the short hallway with light, so I decided my chances

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were better staying in the dark. I went back into the office and hid behind the door, but my breathing was so loud I was sure it would give me away. Whoever it was had entered the foyer. I could hear the squeak of shoes, and low mumblings of whispered conversation. When the sounds stopped outside the office doorway, I held my breath and felt my hair stand on end. A dark figure entered the room, followed by another one. I lunged from the shadows and squeezed past them. The front door was only five feet in front of me when I heard footsteps and a grunt behind me. A large arm clamped my waist in a vice-like grip, a sharp pain splintered the back of my head and everything went black.

The pain that danced down my spine made me realize I must be alive. It also made me wish I was dead. I tried to sit up, but the ache got worse, so I forced my body to lie still, even though I had a cramp in my lower back. I couldn’t open my eyes. The last time my eyes felt like that was at Norman Brook’s fifteenth birthday party. There was a game where you were shoved blindfolded into a closet with a person of the opposite sex, and you had to guess who they were, but you couldn’t talk, you could only touch, and if they were someone you liked and there was kissing involved, so much the better. I figured I was on a couch, and then realized it must be the back seat of a car. I could feel the motion. Then I heard someone clear his throat. It was a lung-scraping, ear-splitting hacking sound, followed by a loud, wet spit. Wonderful. My kidnapper was dying of lung cancer. “Hello?” I ventured.

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“Geeze, she’s awake,” said a voice from somewhere in the darkness. “Shut up and keep driving,” came a reply. “And you keep your trap shut.” I assumed the last command was for me. I was happy to oblige. My mouth felt like the dust bowl of the Sahara. I wondered how long I’d been unconscious. Any triumph I may have experienced knowing my bad hair barometer hadn’t failed me disappeared when I realized I was now in real trouble. The road grew bumpier. Wherever we were, it wasn’t downtown Normal. I concentrated on listening for any sound that might help me figure out where I was. When I was sure the cramp in my lower back would finish me, we stopped. I was hauled unceremoniously out of the car, and held on both sides while I shuffled forward on legs that had fallen asleep. I felt floor under my shoes. Someone pushed me down, and my bottom landed on a hard surface. My hands were wrenched behind me, and tied together. “Take it off,” a husky voice said. The blindfold was removed, and I opened my eyes a crack, blinking until I got used to the light. I was sitting in a large kitchen. There was a window over the sink. Dirty dishes littered the counter. A man with shoulder-length, coffee-colored hair and a goatee sat across a table, staring at me with interest. He had an aristocratic face, a hawk nose and high cheekbones. His eyes sparkled like black diamonds. He wasn’t a young man, but had aged gracefully. He wore a stark white dress shirt that looked expensive. “So, Sherry. You’re not what I expected.” My instincts told me if I shouted, ‘You’ve got the wrong girl, buster,’ I’d end up with a pair of cement shoes at the bottom of the nearest body of water. My best chance to stay alive was to play their game.

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“What did you expect?” I said in the sultriest voice I could manage, considering my heart was about to leap out of my chest. “Blonder. Sexier.” This was no time to feel insulted. I’d long ago gotten used to the fact that I wasn’t a cover girl for Cosmo. “Ever heard of hair dye?” I quipped, as I pouted and thrust out my chest. The man smirked as his eyes shot upward and raked over my pink clumps of hair. To his credit, he didn’t comment, and I decided even if he was a really bad guy, at least he was polite. “Whatever. My name is Che.” “As in, Guevera? I thought you were assassinated back in the sixties.” That made him laugh. It was a raspy chuckle of genuine amusement. Maybe if I kept him laughing, he’d be too distracted to kill me. “Very funny. I’m honored to be compared to such a hero,” he said, bowing his head. “I hope I can live up to his name.” “You know, you look like him a bit.” His eyes glittered, and sent a chill through me. “You’re too smart for your own good. And you talk too much.” Guess his happy mood wasn’t going to last long. “Well, isn’t that why I’m here? To talk?” Che nodded. “Precisely, Sherry. So talk.” I began to panic, but forced myself to appear calm. “Where should I start?” “Start by telling me why you missed our appointment.” “Our appointment,” I repeated, stalling for time. Che leaned forward and his jaw muscle twitched. “My man waited for you three hours past the arranged time. You never showed. We had an agreement.” “An agreement.” Che made a fist and pounded the table, and I jumped halfway out of my chair. “Stop repeating everything I say.”

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I took a breath to clear my head. “I was afraid,” I began lamely, trying to put myself in Sherry’s shoes, which was decidedly distasteful. “Afraid of whom?” I creased my brow, hoping to squeeze my thoughts out more quickly. “Jackson. If he finds out I’m double crossing him, he’ll kill me.” It was a total fabrication, the result of watching too many late movies, but it appeared to make sense to Che. He stood and paced the room. “I told you before you don’t need to worry about Jackson. But you will have to worry about me if you make an agreement, then go back on your word.” “I’m sorry,” I pleaded. “I panicked. I think he’s on to me.” “Let me tell you how this works, Sherry.” Che planted both hands on the table and leaned toward me. “The deal is, we pay you half the agreed price, you get the information, you give us the information, we pay you the rest. Now, what’s wrong with this picture?” “I didn’t give you the information,” I replied dully. “Clever girl. So you have a choice. You either give us the information, or you give us back our money. All ten grand.” Ten grand? I could feel the blood drain from my face. “I...I don’t have the information with me.” His mouth tightened into a line. “Really?” “I wanted to keep it in a safe place. Until the time was right.” Che bent closer, his face a sinister mask, inches from mine. I expected bad breath. Didn’t all villains have bad breath? But his smelled like licorice. Maybe he had a sweet tooth. “The time is right now.” “Okay, okay. I’ll get it.” I tried to sound casual, but I came off as though I didn’t care. “Just take me back, and I’ll get it for you.” Che laughed again, only this time he didn’t sound so happy. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t trust you anymore, Sherry. I have a better plan. You tell us where it is, my man and I get it, we

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come back and don’t kill you. Or, if by some chance you’re lying, and we don’t find it, we come back and do kill you.” “I don’t like that plan,” I squeaked, trying to think. Che flashed a nice set of pearly white teeth. He was pretty good looking for a killer. “I don’t care.” I nodded frantically. “Okay. Do you have a pen and paper?” Che snapped his fingers. I heard noises behind me, drawers opening and closing. Then a man stepped forward and handed him what I asked for. I recited the directions to the real Sherry’s apartment for him, and prayed she was still AWOL. I didn’t want to put her in danger, even if her name was Sherry and she was Cooper’s exgirlfriend and I hated her for those reasons alone. But I figured knowing where I was supposed to live would lend me some credibility, something I was desperately short of at the moment. “We already looked in your apartment,” Che announced. “You didn’t look under the kitchen floorboards.” “Kitchen floorboards?” “Yes, it’s where I keep all my important papers. I told you, I needed to keep it safe.” Che nodded skeptically. “All right.” He glanced behind me and said something in Spanish. Then he addressed me again and gave me an evil grin. “Floorboards, here we come.” He left with the driver of the car. The other man stepped in front of me, gripping a handkerchief. His eyes were bloodshot. He had a permanent five o’clock shadow and a bulbous nose. “Please,” I begged when I realized he was about to blindfold me again. “I...I’m claustrophobic. When I get claustrophobic I throw up.” I gagged, for effect. “I don’t want to mess up your floor.” I was lying, but the man must have believed me, because he backed away. He was short and stocky, with a long ponytail. He could have been an extra in Easy Rider.

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“Okay, okay. Take it easy,” he said gruffly. “Can I have a glass of water?” He threw me a look that said, ‘in your dreams’, and sat on the chair, facing me. “You got a television in this place? I’m missing my programs.” The man’s steely blue eyes narrowed with distain. “Programs?” “Yeah, you know, late night television. Don’t tell me you don’t watch those shows?” At his blank look, I continued, “You don’t know what you’re missing. My favorites are those reality TV dating shows. You know, the ones where the girl has two guys to choose from and by the end of the date has to ditch one of them? Or what about the show where the parents decide which girl—?” “Shut up.” I did as I was told and glanced casually around the kitchen, in the hopes there would be a large cleaver I could use as a weapon. No such luck. There were only plastic forks and some cardboard Chinese food containers. The place reeked of old take-out. “Boy, its smells in here. Do you think it smells in here?” He glared at me. “Listen mister, I have to pee really badly,” I said. “Could you untie me for just a second while I use the can? I promise, I won’t be long.” Still the man said nothing. I began to squirm like I had ants in my pants. “Oh, oh, I really need to pee. I’m on these water pills, you know, diuretics? I have high blood pressure. Anyway, when I have to pee, I have to seriously pee, you know?” He rolled his eyes, groaned and shoved himself off the chair. He untied the knots from the chair, but left my hands tied behind my back. He squeezed my wrists in an iron grip, and pushed me down a long hallway.

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The bathroom was the last door on the end, and consisted of a chipped sink, a grungy bathtub crawling with mildew, and a toilet full of rusty water. If I made it out of this place alive, I was sure I’d end up dying from an infectious disease courtesy of the toilet seat. I had to take my chances. “Aren’t you going to untie me?” Instead of an answer, he put both hands on the waistband of my pants and yanked them down my thighs. The elastic band stretched but held firm. He did the same thing to my underwear. Now I stood naked from the waist down, my pants around my ankles and my hands still tied behind my back, in front of an evil stranger. “Apparently not,” I muttered as I stood there in shock. The man pointed to the toilet. “So pee, already.” “The seat is up. I can’t pee with the seat up.” The man cursed, stepped in front of me, and bent over to flip down the toilet seat. I figured I’d never get a better chance. I stepped on my pants and managed to free my right leg, which I kicked up and planted on his butt. My attack was unexpected and he landed with a thud in the bathtub. I frantically tried to work my hands free from the ropes as I staggered toward the door, but it was no use. I braced myself as the man twisted around, his face purple with rage. I kicked him again, this time in the chest. A beauty move, if I do say so myself. The man fell back and hit his head on the bathtub faucet. His closed eyes and slack jaw told me he was out cold, at least for a few minutes. I skipped out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Realizing I could hardly hop half-naked back to town in the middle of the night, I wrenched open every drawer, looking for a knife to cut the ropes, which wasn’t easy with my hands still tied behind my back. Not one knife. Aware that every second counted, I gave up on the knife

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idea and hobbled outside, onto a front porch. A single light bulb revealed a pile of wood stacked at one end. Propped up against the wood was an axe. I gave a silent prayer of thanks, limped over to the axe and sat down with my back to the blade. After scraping the rope around my wrists against its sharp edge a few times, the strands finally snapped. I pounced to my feet, gratefully pulled up my underwear and pants and ran as fast as I could, aiming for a grove of trees. A half-moon peaked out from behind the ghostly clouds, allowing me to see where I was going. I looked around and saw several tall poles in the distance. They were light standards, like those on a highway, except these weren’t lit up. A ball field or stadium? In the middle of nowhere? Then I heard it. Horses whinnying. I knew there was a racetrack with stables north of Springfield, and if I was right, at least I had some idea how to get home. There was a highway to the east. I could hear the sound of the occasional car whizzing by. I glanced back at the house, and couldn’t see any sign of the man in the bathtub. He was unconscious, for a while. I ran for the highway.

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Twelve T

he earth moved. No, not the earth, just my shoulder. Someone was shaking it. “Hey miss, wake up. You’re not allowed to sleep here. You gotta order something.” I lifted my head and squinted. The bright light of morning poured into the window beside the booth where I’d squeezed my tired, aching body the night before. I’d fallen asleep, and the waiter with the mousy brown hair who served me coffee a few hours ago had been replaced by the day shift, a large woman with a tight perm and an even tighter uniform. “What time is it?” I mumbled, wiping the drool off my chin. “Nine-thirty.” I ordered orange juice, toast, and a refill of coffee, and stumbled to the bathroom. Then I went to the pay phone. My mother answered on the third ring. “Mom?” “Hannah, I’ve been so worried. Where the hell are you?”

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“At an all-night truck stop, in Lincoln. I’m fine, Mom, really. Do you think you could come and pick me up?” There was a pause. “What are you doing in Lincoln?” “It’s a long story,” I said, rubbing the tension from my forehead and not succeeding. “Well, just a minute…Hannah? Cooper says he’ll come to get you.” My pulse picked up. “Cooper is there?” “Yes, dear, he came over early to talk to you. That’s when we discovered you were gone.” “Fine,” I said, my heart doing a tap dance. “Tell him it’s the truck stop near Route 66. I’ll be in the coffee shop.” When Cooper walked up to the booth where I sat, tears stung the back of my eyes. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. He held out his hand, pulled me to my feet, and held me without saying anything for a several long minutes. I breathed in his scent. Gasoline and spicy aftershave. “Are you okay?” His breath tickled my neck. “Yes,” I murmured into his shirt. I plunged my hands underneath his jacket and wrapped them around his waist. “I was worried.” “I know.” I lifted my head to look at him. “I’m sorry.” “How’d you get here?” “A very nice man in a very large truck picked me up. I wanted to pay him, but he wouldn’t let me. He said anyone that ended up on a highway in the middle of the night looking the way I did deserved a break.” Cooper let me go, and we sat opposite each other. He linked his fingers in mine and held on tight. Thankfully he didn’t pelt me with questions. Cooper seemed to have endless patience, unlike me. The waitress came by, and he ordered an omelet, hashed browns, and a Coke. “What happened to you?” he asked finally, his face lined with tension.

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I squirmed. “It’s sort of a long story.” “I’ve got all day.” I recounted the events of the evening, and listened to Cooper’s stunned silence when I was finished. The waitress brought the Coke, and sashayed to the next table. Cooper finally found his voice. “Jesus Christ, Hannah, what the hell do you think you’re doing, breaking into someone’s office? You could have been arrested, or killed. Those guys could have raped you and left you in a ditch to die.” I jerked my hand away. “Keep your hair on. Where do you get off giving me hell when you did something just as irresponsible by going back to your place, even though those thugs are still after you?” “That’s not the same thing,” Cooper growled. “Why not? Because you’re a big, strong man, and I’m just a weak, stupid chick?” “No, because going back to my place isn’t against the law. Breaking into an office, opening up filing cabinets and stealing information is a crime.” He had a point, but I was too angry and exhausted to care. “Norman Jackson is hiding something. His secretary lied about him being in the office. He’s a dirty ex-cop with police files all over the place. The man who almost killed you in the hospital told you the police were in on it. And now I know my father’s in some serious shit.” I ran my hands through my hair, and spoke again before Cooper had a chance to comment. “Jackson’s former secretary, your cutesy pie girlfriend Sherry, has left a trail of disaster in her wake. She’s the whole reason you’re in this mess, if you ask me.” “I didn’t ask you,” Cooper snapped. “So you’re not even angry that Sherry stole Jackson’s files and put your life in danger by shoving that list in your knapsack,” I accused, close to tears, “but you’re giving me shit because I broke into his office.”

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“That’s because I care about you more than I ever did about Sherry.” At another time his words would have stirred my heart, but I was too strung out to really appreciate what he was saying. “I’m tired,” I grumbled. “You told my mother you’d come and pick me up, not yell at me.” Cooper frowned. “What did you mean, now you know your father’s in shit?” “Just take me home.” “We’re not leaving until you tell me what you meant about your father,” Cooper said. “Besides, I haven’t eaten yet.” “Why should I tell you anything?” I demanded. “You do whatever you want to do and don’t tell me about it.” “Hannah, look at me.” I stared out the window and pretended to be interested in the large display of windshield wiper fluid beside the gas pump. Cooper sighed. “Why do I like you so much?” he muttered. My body started its rant again. Touch me, touch me. I ignored it and turned my attention to the salt and pepper shakers. Cooper made funny faces and I tried hard not to smile, but I was weak with fatigue and couldn’t help myself. “That’s better,” Cooper said, taking my hand again. I didn’t have the will to continue arguing. “Why were you at my mother’s house so early? She said you wanted to talk to me.” Cooper drank his Coke and nodded. “Sherry’s sister called me last night. She found out where Sherry is, and gave me the phone number. I called Sherry, and she’s agreed to meet me tonight. I swung by your mother’s place before work to ask if you wanted to come with me.” Even if it meant meeting his ex-girlfriend, I wanted to go with him. “Sure, okay,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. “So you’re supposed to be at work?”

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“I’ll make it up by doing some overtime.” He’d come all this way to pick me up, even though he was supposed to be at the garage. I felt guilty for being so cranky, and tingly all over because he wanted to spend time with me. The waitress brought Cooper’s order, and the hashed browns looked crispy and greasy, just the way I like them. I licked my lips, and Cooper stabbed at the potatoes with his fork, waved them under my nose, and popped a forkful into my mouth. “Good?” “Ummm,” I said, chewing. “Very good.” “I like the way you eat,” Cooper said as he stared at my mouth. How was it that eating breakfast with this man could send shock waves of pleasure through me? One of life’s mysteries, I decided, as desire curled in the pit of my stomach. He fed me a couple more bites and watched me chew, then took a few for himself. We sat in comfortable silence and shared the food, gazing at each other. When we were finished, Cooper pushed the plate away. “Okay. Now you have to talk to me. I let you eat half my breakfast.” “I knew you had an ulterior motive.” “What did you find in Jackson’s office?” “A lot of police files and a memo with my father’s name in it. It was from Jackson to someone named Lenny, saying, ‘don’t worry about Hailstone, he’s not going to be a problem.’” Cooper sighed. “I have to admit, that doesn’t sound so good. I think you need to have a serious powwow with your father.” “It’s not that simple.” “Why not? I got the impression you two are close.” “Yeah, we’re close,” I admitted. “But not so close that we’re completely honest with each other, you know?” Cooper raised an eyebrow. “You’re not honest with the people you’re close to?”

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“Not always. I mean, I didn’t tell my mother we were necking in the car. Or that you want to sleep with me.” “Well, no. But that’s different. She’s your mother. You don’t tell your mother those things.” “You didn’t tell me you were going home yesterday, either.” Cooper eyed me over the rim of his glass. “I needed to go back to my place, and I didn’t feel like arguing about it.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means that when you have an opinion, Hannah, you make it well known and are prepared to beat it to death. I knew how you felt about me going back to my apartment. I knew you wouldn’t like it.” “So you snuck off and went anyway.” Cooper put his drink down and shook his head in exasperation. “You know, I don’t have to explain my reasons to anybody for doing anything.” “That’s right, you don’t.” I slid out of the booth and stood. “If you aren’t ready to take me home, I’ll take a cab.” “Jesus, it doesn’t take much to get you pissed, does it?” Cooper said as he threw money on the table and followed me to the door. “I’m not pissed,” I said primly as I stomped out of the coffee shop. “I’m tired.” “Honey, if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the ground.”

Jumping around with my pants around my ankles had resulted in the loss of the identification I carried in my pocket, along with my car keys. Since I’d left my car parked behind Jackson’s office, we had to go back to the shop to get the spare keys. “How are you going to get in with no door key?” Cooper asked.

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I bent down and snatched a key from under the welcome mat. “Tiffany sometimes forgets her key, so we keep a contingency key here. It makes things easier.” “Easier to rob you blind,” Cooper muttered as we stepped into the shop. The shop looked lonely, as though it knew we’d deserted it, and it missed the company. I flicked on the light, moved to the counter and retrieved the spare car key from the drawer underneath the cash register. “Place looks okay,” I observed as I looked around. “I’ll have to toss out the perishables when I reopen.” Cooper blocked my path and looked very contrite. “Hannah, we need to talk.” “About what?” “I don’t want to fight.” “Are we fighting?” Cooper released a breath. “I shouldn’t have said that I didn’t have to explain my reasons to you. Maybe I should have told you where I was going yesterday, but I’m not used to answering to anyone.” “I already told you, you don’t have to answer to me.” “Well, maybe I want to,” Cooper shot back. “You scared me when you told me what you’d been up to at Jackson’s, and about those men kidnapping you. I’ve never been so scared in my whole life. When I think what could have happened to you...” He reached up and framed my face with his hands. This time I didn’t wait for him to kiss me; I beat him to it. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his, drinking in his warm strength, telling him without words that I was strong, too, and he didn’t need to worry about me. I traced the curls at the back of his neck as our tongues danced, and I could feel his heart thudding against my chest. I moved my hands under the collar of his shirt, and felt the pulse

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in his neck race beneath my fingertips. When his hand cupped my breast underneath my sweater, urgent need swept through me. He stroked his thumb across my bra-covered nipple, now peaked and aching, and I moaned His hands moved to my bottom, and I arched toward him, bending one knee so I could get closer. His hips dug into mine. His hard groin pressed against my thighs and ignited a flame inside me that, until that moment, I’d never known existed. “Oh, please,” I murmured, not sure what I was asking him for, wanting him to show me. “Hannah,” Cooper whispered into the ear he was nibbling on, “can we go upstairs?” “Yes.” He grabbed me by the hand and we charged up the stairs. When we reached the landing he pressed me into the door of my apartment with his body. “Umm, you feel so good,” Cooper said huskily as he lowered his mouth to mine again. His kiss was deep and hot and I responded eagerly. We explored each other with urgent hands. I rubbed the zipper of his jeans as he dug his fingers between my legs, over my pants, and I was certain I would melt in a puddle of desire at his feet. I twisted in Cooper’s arms and shoved the key in the lock. I turned the key and pushed, but nothing happened. Cooper unclasped my bra, and his warm grip on my bare breasts took my breath away. He teased my nipples with his fingertips and I shuddered as heat shot through me. I pushed on the door again. It wouldn’t budge. I gave it a kick with my shoe. Nothing. “Let’s just do it here,” I begged, twisting around to face him again. “Forget my apartment.” Cooper kissed me and grinned. “Let me try.” He turned his attention away from my breasts long enough

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to turn the key, jerk the doorknob to the right and push hard. The door opened a few inches. “It’s stuck,” Cooper said, frowning. “There’s something on the floor, blocking it. What is that?” It was gloomy in the upstairs hall, so I groped along the wall and flicked on the light switch. I let out an ear-shattering scream when I saw a hand wedged in the doorway. “Cooper!” “I know, I see it!” We stared anyway, not believing. “Go downstairs, Hannah.” “What for?” “Why do you always argue with me?” Cooper cried. “I don’t know who this is. I don’t think you should see it, in case—” “What a load of crap. This is my apartment. Help me open the damn door.” Funny how, in a matter of seconds we could go from kissing, groping and grinding to fighting again. It was mind-boggling. We heaved and nudged the door until we could squeeze into the apartment. There, on my welcome mat, lay a dead body. When I saw his face, my knees buckled and I slipped bonelessly onto the floor. “Who is he?” Cooper demanded as he examined the corpse and felt around for a pulse. “Oh, my God.” “Yup, this guy’s stiff.” “Oh, my God.” Cooper knelt beside me. “Hannah, talk to me.” “I killed him.” I waved my hand in front of my face. “What?” “It’s one of the men who kidnapped me,” I squeaked. “Well, this guy isn’t going to be kidnapping anybody else,” Cooper said grimly.

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I buried my face in my hands. “Cooper, I’m a murderer. I’m going to go to jail for the rest of my life.” Cooper grabbed my wrists and pulled them apart. “Hannah. How could you have killed him? He’s already dead.” “Don’t you see? This is the man who was guarding me. I thought I only knocked him unconscious. But I obviously killed him.” Cooper’s jaw twitched. “I see. So after you knocked him out, he came to, walked all the way here, then lay down at your front door and died?” My mouth dropped open, and I could only gape at Cooper’s incredulous expression. “Hannah, this is a set-up. Those men, that guy Che...he killed this man, probably because he was angry the guy let you escape. He left the body here as pay back. You’re not who he thought you were, and he didn’t get his information.” “But you don’t know that,” I said. “Maybe I did kill him, and they only dumped the body here.” “I doubt it. They found your ID, and that’s how they knew where you live,” Cooper said as he helped me to my feet. I gulped more air and digested everything Cooper said. He made a lot of sense. “What are we going to do?” Cooper dragged a hand through his hair. “Well, we have a few choices, I guess. We could call the police.” “And say what?” I demanded. “This is one of the men who kidnapped me while I was breaking and entering the office of a private investigator who is up to his neck in shit, along with his partner, my father? Even though I kicked him and he fell on his head, I don’t think I killed him. I don’t like that choice. Give me another one.” “Whoa, back up,” Cooper said. “We don’t know what your father’s involvement is yet.” “No,” I agreed. “But until we do, how can we go to the

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police? Who do we trust? We could end up putting you in danger too, along with my father.” “But Hannah, you were kidnapped. Don’t you think we should tell the authorities about it?” I clapped my hands to my head. “I don’t know. This whole thing is freaking me out. If I report the kidnapping, I’ll have to report my break and enter of Jackson’s place. What if Che finds me before the police find him? I’ll end up looking just like this guy,” I cried, pointing to the dead body. “We could dump the body.” My jaw dropped. “Well,” Cooper said defensively, “you wanted another option. Either we play it clean, or we play it dirty. I don’t think you killed this man. But until we find out who did, and what your father’s up to, and what those goons want, we’re already up to our necks. We might as well go in a little deeper.” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “Fine. We’ll play it dirty.” I was pretty sure Nancy Drew had never dumped dead bodies. I was charging down a path to ruin. “Where do you suggest we dump it?” Cooper muttered to himself, then he snapped his fingers. “What about dropping him off at the hospital? Least, that way, he’d be taken care of properly. I mean, we can’t just dump him at the landfill like so much garbage, even if he is the scum who kidnapped you.” It sounded reasonable to me. “But we can’t drop him off now, in broad daylight.” “No, we’ll do it tonight.” “But I can’t have a dead man in my apartment all day,” I protested, panicking. “I could never live here after that. We have to get him out of here, now.” “We could put him in the trunk of my car,” Cooper suggested. “I borrowed the Buick from the garage this morning. She’s got a roomy trunk.”

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“Again, I remind you that it’s broad daylight. We can’t drag a dead body outside in broad daylight.” Cooper scratched his head. “Do you have nosy neighbors?” I didn’t really have any neighbors. It wasn’t a residential neighborhood as such. Bumper to Bumper Auto Parts was situated next door. The other side was an empty lot, next to the train tracks. There was a small apartment building across the street, but it faced the front of my shop. Behind the shop, facing the parking lot, was the back end of Comfort Zone Heating & Air Conditioning, which had gone belly up a few months back. As far as I knew, the building hadn’t been re-leased yet. “No, I guess it’d be okay.” “Or we could store him somewhere downstairs until tonight.” I shuddered. “I like the trunk idea better.” Ten minutes later Cooper waited by the back door with the body wrapped up in an old blanket, while I backed his car up as close as I could to the wall. My back was killing me from hoisting a dead man down my apartment stairs. I had insisted on taking the bulk of the man’s weight, since I didn’t want Cooper straining his ribs. I got out of the car with a groan and opened the trunk of the Buick. We lifted the corpse by the shoulders, grunting with the effort, and muscled him into the trunk. “Right,” I said as Cooper slammed it shut. “This is against the law, isn’t it?” “Most definitely.” “Shit.” “There’s still time to change our minds, I guess,” Cooper said. “Except we’ve already disturbed the crime scene.” “Technically, it’s not really the crime scene, since he wasn’t killed inside my apartment,” I reasoned, knowing I was grasping at straws. “Besides, if we get the police involved at this point, it could be bad news. Unless you have some cop friends?”

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Cooper shook his head. “All I ever get from cops is aggravation and a lot of speeding tickets.” I took a couple of deep breaths. “Okay then. Fine.” “You’re hyperventilating.” I would much rather have been breathing heavy and sweating underneath Cooper’s body. Instead I was doing both of those things without the pleasure attached. I’d never seen a corpse before, much less touched one. Uggh. My life was taking a sharp left turn. I’d spent four years studying how to uphold the law. Six months later, I was breaking it in so many ways I couldn’t keep track of them all. The sound of an approaching car reached us, and a brown Chevy Nova pulled into the parking lot. For an instant I thought I was going to throw up, until I recognized Joel at the wheel. He climbed out, shoved his hands in his back pockets, which were halfway down his butt, and swaggered over. “Hey, how’s it going?” Cooper returned the greeting and smiled. I stood like a statue, a smile frozen on my face. If Joel noticed anything unusual about me, he didn’t mention it. Probably I looked crappy all the time, so as far as he was concerned, there was really nothing different about me. Joel cleared his throat. “I was...uh...driving around, you know, and—” “You’re looking for Tiffany?” I asked him. “Yeah.” Joel hung his head. “Her mother tore a strip off me this morning thinking Tiffany was over at my place. I don’t know where the hell she is. I tried to tell her mother, but she must be on the rag or something. She wouldn’t listen.” Normally I would have smacked Joel upside the head for that ‘rag’ comment, but seeing as I had a dead kidnapper to contend with, I let it slip. There came a point when a person had to choose their battles.

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It sounded as though Tiffany’s mother made a habit of not listening. But she was likely worried, so who was I to judge? “Tiffany’s at my mother’s place, Joel. To be honest, I don’t think she wants to see you. Give her some time to cool off.” Joel heaved a sigh. “Man, you know, we had a fight, and we said some things, but she’s talking about splitting, maybe. Going to college. So where does that leave me? I mean, she says she loves me. But she doesn’t show it, you know?” There were times when I was very nostalgic about my teen years. My first date, my first kiss, movies, sleepovers, the prom. Now wasn’t one of them. Teen love was riddled with angst. “Look, Joel, I told her to call her mother to let her know where she is. I’ll tell her you’re looking for her.” Joel was trying to be cool, but beneath the bravado, there was genuine concern in his eyes. And hurt. “Thanks.” “Say, Joel, I wondered if you could do us a favor?” Cooper said. “Hannah left her car in town, and we need to pick it up. Could you give us a lift?” Good plan. I didn’t feel like driving around in a car with a corpse. “No problem, man, but what about your car?” Joel said, eyeing the Buick. It has a dead body in the trunk. Cooper scratched his head and wouldn’t meet Joel’s eyes. “I flooded it.” “Whatever.” Joel was halfway to his car. The fact that Cooper was a mechanic and the chances of him flooding a car were one in a thousand didn’t register with Joel. He didn’t care about our problems. He had enough of his own. “Hop in.” Joel dropped us off at the lot behind Jackson’s office, and we got into my car without incident. Thankfully, the place was deserted. I yawned as I pulled out onto the street, and made funny faces to keep my eyes open.

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Cooper watched me. “I think I should drive.” “I’m fine, nothing twelve hours of sleep won’t cure.” The truth was, I was close to delirium. I’d been deprived of an orgasm, probably more than one, and I’d found a dead body in my apartment. Everything was just fine. Not. “Man, your muffler doesn’t sound very good. How long has it been making noises like that?” “Since I drove over an embankment.” Cooper’s mouth twitched. “Right. Listen, can you drop me off at the garage? I’d better put a few hours in.” I raised an eyebrow. “What about the corpse?” “I’ll take care of it.” Cooper gave me directions to Tyler’s Garage, and a few minutes later I pulled up to the curb in front of a brown cement building. The parking lot was full of cars and trucks of every make and size. I could hear the sound of drills and motors running. “So this is where you work.” “Yeah.” Cooper leaned across the seat and kissed me gently. I wrapped both arms around his neck and returned the kiss. When I pulled away I placed my hand over his heart. It was racing. “I didn’t think the day would end like this,” I murmured into his neck. Cooper played with my hair. “The day’s only half over.” “But maybe finding that dead body was an omen,” I said, fingering his shirt button. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be between us.” He looked stricken. “How can you say that?” “Look, Cooper, I think you’re a great guy, but...well, you and me, we’re very different.” Cooper pulled away. “Different how?” I pondered this a moment. I was a serious, nose to the

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grindstone person. That’s what living with a kooky artist for a mother had done to me. My whole family was eccentric, so someone had to play the straight man. Cooper sort of reminded me of my mother. Laid back, easy going. The most important thing in his life was drifting around on his motorcycle. He wasn’t in a hurry to make any decisions. That wasn’t necessarily bad, I decided. Maybe the fact that we were opposites was the reason we liked each other so much. But what if I really started to like him? Would he break my heart and take off down the highway on his Harley? “You know,” Cooper pointed out when I didn’t answer, “you didn’t mention being different was a problem an hour ago when we were all over each other.” “But that was in the heat of the moment. Sure, maybe a casual fling would be great, but there’s more to a relationship than sex.” Cooper touched my bottom lip with his finger. “Can’t we start with the sex and see how it goes from there?” It wasn’t that I didn’t want it to happen that way. I wasn’t a prude. But I had a spectacular record of failure when it came to men. My life was fine the way it was. Cooper crawling into my car had turned everything upside down. “I don’t know.” “Hannah, what do you want me to say? We just met and we’re hot for each other. That’s all we need right now. You have to take this one step at a time. How the hell do I know how this will go? Neither of us does.” “Cooper—” He pressed his finger harder on my mouth. “No. We’re not going to talk about this now. I don’t want it to turn into a fight.” He kissed me again. A few breathless, fever-filled minutes later, he let me go. “I’ll see you later,” he said in a tight voice. “Get some sleep.”

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He slid out of the car and headed for the garage. I pressed a shaky foot on the gas pedal and drove to my mother’s house. It wasn’t easy to drive. My toes were curled inside my running shoes.

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Thirteen M

y mother was pretty calm when I related my adventures over store-bought barbeque chicken and coleslaw that evening. I glossed over the worst bits, but she paled when I mentioned the part about hitchhiking in the middle of the night. I decided to leave out my decision to have sex with Cooper and the discovery of a dead man in my apartment. There was no need to put her through unnecessary agony, and what she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. “Hannah, whatever possessed you to break into that man’s office? What is your father going to say?” “Well, he can hardly get self-righteous on me about breaking the law, after what you told me about that whole prostitution thing,” I replied. My mother gave me a stern look. “You’re not supposed to know about that.” I heaved a frustrated sigh. Our family kept more secrets than the Pentagon. “Right. But did you know he plays the horses?”

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“He has for years. So?” “So how come I’m the last one to know?” I licked barbeque sauce off my fingers. “Lorna said he’s been visiting her brother Marvin a lot lately.” “Marvin the bookie?” My heart skipped a beat. “You know Marvin’s a bookie?” My mother waved her hand at me. “Everyone knows Marvin’s a bookie.” “But Dad’s supposed to stay out of trouble for six months.” “I’m sure he’s well aware of that, Hannah. Let’s hope if he is using a bookie, he’s being careful.” Unbelievable. Usually it was the parents who warned their kid about illegal activities. In my family, it was the other way around. It made me wonder what else I didn’t know. I took a bite of coleslaw. “You know, when I mentioned to Dad that this mysterious list probably came from Cooper’s exgirlfriend Sherry, who works for Jackson, he got really upset. Told me to stay away from Jackson, that he was trouble.” My mother nodded. “Your father’s never liked that man, Jackson’s bad news. That’s what he’s always said.” “But when I was in Jackson’s office last night, I saw a memo with Dad’s name on it. ‘Don’t worry, Hailstone’s not going to be a problem.’ That’s what it said. What do you think that means?” “Well, how should I know? What your father does and who he does it with isn’t my problem anymore, is it? Whatever you find out, I don’t think I want to know.” I pushed the chicken around my plate. “I’d better talk to him again.” “That might be a problem.” “Why?” “Lorna called. Your father didn’t come into the office this morning, and she can’t get hold of him.”

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I could almost hear each strand of my hair split a little further. “Where is he?” “I’m not exactly sure.” Anxiety shot through me. I bounced out of my chair and faced her. “Have you called the police? Have you called the hospital? Did you check his apartment?” She held up her hands to fend off my barrage of questions. “If there had been an accident or something, someone would have called me. I checked his apartment. He’s not there, but his car is. Some luggage is gone. Anyway, I think I know where he is. He’s gone off before.” My eyes almost bulged out of my head. “He has? Without even telling anyone? Where?” “To Vegas.” “Vegas?” “Hannah, your father used to gamble while we were married. I asked him to stop because it got out of hand. He did, and I thought that was the end of it. But if he’s visiting Marvin, and he has gone to Vegas—” “You think he’s gambling again?” “It’s possible. I can’t think of any other reason he’d take off like this. Maybe he’s having trouble making ends meet.” For some strange reason my mother hadn’t wanted alimony from my father after their divorce. I didn’t think she made all that much money from her paintings, but she never seemed to have a cash flow problem. My father, on the other hand, never paid his bills on time. I teased him that he could plan other people’s finances, but not his own. Suddenly it wasn’t funny. “I don’t know what to say,” I said as my heart sank. My mother stood and put her arm around me. “Hannah, one thing I do know, your father is a good man, and he loves you. He loves me, too, in his way. Just because we’re not married anymore doesn’t mean we don’t still care about each other.”

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I couldn’t possibly unravel the mysterious intricacies of love and marriage, not when I couldn’t even decide whether I wanted to jump Cooper’s bones or run screaming the other way. Cooper arrived on my mother’s doorstep at seven-thirty, and we set off to meet the dreaded Sherry. He was driving a white Chevy hatchback. “Where’s the Buick?” I asked, even though I didn’t want to know. “Getting professionally cleaned.” I swallowed hard. “Good idea. How’d it go?” “Uneventful. Mission accomplished.” “What happened?” Cooper tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “You really want to know?” No. “Yes.” “I dumped the body at the Emergency Department door.” I narrowed my eyes. “In broad daylight?” “I waited for a quiet spell.” I found it hard to breathe. I’d never been a part of anything like this in my life. I’d just purchased a one-way ticket on a bus ride to hell. I glanced at Cooper. He wore a dark red fleece shirt over a white tee-shirt, and faded jeans. “What are you looking at?” Cooper asked lazily, as we pulled onto Main Street. Each time I saw Cooper he looked better, now that his face was returning to normal. “You...you’re really cute.” Cooper grinned. “You get any sleep today?” “Slept all afternoon. You get any work done?” “Not much. I kept thinking about you.” He reached for my hand and linked his warm fingers in mine. My heart did a tap dance. “How can you drive with a cast on? Isn’t your arm sore?”

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“No. They molded the cast at a perfect angle for driving,” he joked. “Thoughtful of them.” “Where are we going?” “The Holiday Inn. Sherry’s meeting us at the bar.” Apparently Sherry spent a lot of time in bars, seeing as that’s where she’d slipped Cooper the piece of paper that got his face kicked in. I was trying not to hate her, but it was getting more and more difficult. “Grease may have a lead on my bike.” “What kind of lead?” “Word is there’s this garage,” Cooper replied. “It’s supposedly out of business, but at night there’s a lot of action inside. Grease checked it out and saw fresh paint on the floor, and tools that looked new. Someone’s working in the place.” “You think your bike might be there?” “It’s worth a look.” When we parked in front of the Holiday Inn and made our way across the parking lot, I grabbed Cooper’s hand possessively and wondered if I should be worried. What if Sherry was drop dead gorgeous? With both of us side by side, Cooper could make a fast comparison and maybe decide that I wasn’t really what he wanted after all. Cooper’s eyes slid to mine. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “You’re cutting off the circulation in my fingers.” “Sorry.” “Hannah, relax. How many times do I have to tell you, it’s over between me and Sherry?” “One more time.” Cooper laughed and slung his good arm around my shoulder. “It’s over,” he whispered in my ear. Then he kissed my temple. I smiled and glanced around. It was a nice hotel, not the

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cheap kind you’d find on the side of the highway. It boasted mini golf, a heated indoor pool and a gym. Guess Sherry had used up some of Che’s money already, if she was staying here. We entered the front door and crossed the lobby to the bar. I slipped my hand out of Cooper’s and followed him past several tables, to the corner. A woman sat alone at a table, and Cooper paused in front of her. Sherry was exactly as I pictured her from my high school super-bitch fantasy, except her hair was redder, and the color and style reminded me of a golden retriever I had as a kid. She wore very little make up, which surprised me, and her boobs were bigger than mine. Or maybe her tee-shirt was tighter, I couldn’t decide which. “Hey, Sherry,” Cooper greeted her quietly as she stood. “Hi Cooper. I’m glad you’re okay.” No thanks to you, Chickie Poo. “Sherry, this is Hannah, a friend of mine.” No, more than a friend. We came very close to having sex today. In fact, we’ll probably end up doing it later on, if he plays his cards right. We nodded coolly to one another, and she sized me up. I recognized a flash of the green-eyed monster in her expression. It was probably a replica of the one in mine. We sat, and Sherry launched into a pretty good ‘I’m a helpless bimbo’ impression. Her blue eyes grew round, her pink rosebud mouth pouted perfectly, and her voice was just the right combination of sultry and whiny. “Oh, Cooper, I know you have every right to be angry with me, but I was so frightened. I didn’t know what else to do.” I bit my tongue and tried not to heave. “Sherry, what the hell is going on? What kind of trouble are you in?” She batted her eyelashes. “Well, you know I worked for

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Norman Jackson. He’s not who you think he is. Even though he used to be cop, he’s into a lot of bad stuff.” Cooper pressed her. “Bad stuff?” “Theft, blackmail, stolen cars...and he sells information.” Sherry glanced around and lowered her voice. “Police information.” “This information,” I said innocently, “is it the same kind you sold to Che?” The color drained from her face, and her mouth hardened. She wasn’t as pretty when she was pissed. “I changed my mind,” Sherry snapped. “I never sold him anything.” “That’s not what he says. He knocked me out, kidnapped me and demanded to know why I’d tried to cheat him,” I shot back. “He wants his money.” Sherry eyed me up and down in disbelief. “He thought you were me?” Hell, was it that much of a stretch? This woman was really starting to aggravate me. “Yeah. Go figure.” “Sherry, don’t you think it’s just a bit twisted to steal ten grand from this guy?” Cooper asked in disbelief. “I didn’t mean to,” Sherry said, helplessly. “But I got scared. Normie was on to me, and I panicked. That’s why I shoved that list in your knapsack and hid it in the can when you weren’t looking. Then I got scared that Che would find out I didn’t have the information after all, so I just ran.” Cooper shook his head. “If he finds you—” “He’s not gonna find me. I’ve got it all worked out. I’m meeting a friend of mine in St. Louis, and we’re heading to L.A. to open up our own beauty salon.” Sherry stuck her bottom lip out, and looked truly remorseful for half a second. “Listen, I never meant for anyone else to get hurt. But this is my ticket

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out of here, my only chance to make something of myself. I gotta right to do that, don’t I?” Her eyes filled with tears. “You’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?” “Of course not, but I still think you’re making a big mistake.” “I know what I’m doing, Cooper.” “I know what you’re doing, too,” I said. “You’re dropping us right in it.” Cooper reached for my hand under the table and squeezed it. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to shut me up or to comfort me. “How do I find Jackson when he’s not in his office?” Cooper asked. “I don’t know. He never tells anyone where he’s going. He just says he’s on a case.” “Sherry, this information you sold to Che, what’s the deal? Why is it so important to Jackson?” “I didn’t give you everything,” Sherry admitted, her eyes downcast. She reached into a black patent leather clutch on the table, pulled out two papers, and gave them to Cooper. They looked identical to ours. “This is what Normie wants back. It pretty much proves he’s screwing the NPD. It’s a list of recent busts, which cops were involved, and what kind of evidence was confiscated...you know, drugs, guns, whatever. If anyone found out about this, it would finish him. But he’s got cops in his pocket, so be careful.” Sherry had the decency to look ashamed. “You can have it. It’s already brought me too much trouble.” I produced our list and fluttered it under her nose. “Can you explain what this is?” Sherry studied it a moment, and shrugged. “I don’t know what that is, I swear. I know that Normie seemed pretty excited about it.” She looked at her watch. “The cab’s going to be here soon. I’d better get going.”

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We stood, and to my horror, Sherry put her arms around Cooper and crushed her boobs into his chest. Then she planted a wet one on him, full on the lips. Even though I was furious, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Cooper. His eyes flew open, and he held his hands out, as if to prove to me that he wasn’t hugging or kissing her back. When Sherry finally let go, she smiled tremulously and grabbed her purse. “You know, Cooper, I really regret ending it. You’re a hunk.” She glanced at me triumphantly and added, “He’s all yours, honey. Enjoy.” We watched her sashay out of the bar, and stood looking at each other for several awkward seconds. “Hannah, I know what you’re thinking.” “I doubt it,” I said, trying to push down the hurt that rose in my stomach, but not quite managing it. “How could you let her walk out of here with that money?” “What was I supposed to do, grab her purse and run? This is her mess.” “Now it’s ours.” “Che knows by now you’re not Sherry. He’s not going to bother you again.” “You didn’t have to let her kiss you that long.” “That was a goodbye kiss,” Cooper pointed out quickly. “I didn’t kiss her back.” I crossed my arms in front of me. “You said you went out with her a few months.” “Yes.” “Then it was over.” “Yeah.” “You never mentioned it was Sherry who dumped you.” Now Cooper looked confused. “No. What difference does that make?”

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“It makes all the difference,” I countered. “If she hadn’t broken off with you, you’d still be with her.” “No I wouldn’t.” We were giving the bar flies a show, so I stalked out to the lobby and through the hotel doors with Cooper trailing behind. “Of course you would,” I insisted as I charged across the parking lot. “If Sherry hadn’t gotten so greedy, she’d still be working for Normie, and you’d still be her boyfriend.” I’d almost reached the car when Cooper grabbed me by the arm and twisted me around. “That’s not true. I wanted to end it, but I didn’t know how, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides, if Sherry hadn’t slipped me that list, and Jackson’s goons hadn’t beaten me up, I would never have met you.” This man had a way of melting my heart when I least expected it. We stared at each other for a long moment, and I knew he meant what he said. Cooper didn’t have a deceitful bone in his body. I reached for him, ran my finger gently across his lips to wipe off any remaining traces of Sherry, and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. “It’s just that whether a person is the dumper or the dumpee is very significant,” I explained. “It’s infinitely preferable to be the person who initiates the dumping.” “Why?” “Because then you’re spared the extra discomfort of endlessly soul-searching the reasons behind the breakup, and can avoid a battered ego.” “I had no idea there was a science to breaking up,” Cooper said wryly. Probably because not many girls have broken up with you. We were several miles down the highway when I saw Cooper glance in the rear-view mirror for the third time inside a minute.

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“What’s the matter?” “The same headlights have been on our tail since we left the hotel.” I twisted in the seat. “It doesn’t look like Burly and Stu’s truck. The headlights are too low.” We got off the highway and stopped at a well-lit intersection. I craned my neck to get a better look at the car behind us. It was a dark colored sedan. “Do you think it’s the men who kidnapped you?” Cooper asked. “It’s possible, but I was blindfolded. Their car had very uncomfortable back seats. Believe me, I learned that the hard way. This sedan looks like a late model, and probably has comfy seats. If I were to guess, I’d say it looks like a mob car.” “How would you know what a mob car looks like?” “I don’t know. I guess because I watched The Godfather six times.” The light turned green and Cooper sped up, pulled ahead of two more cars and got back on the highway. The dark car stuck with us. My neck was sore from looking over my shoulder. “What are we going to do?” “Man, I miss my hog.” Cooper checked the speedometer. “This bucket of bones will fall apart if I try to outrun this guy.” We headed northwest, down the I-74 toward Peoria, slipping in and out of traffic. Our chance came when a large moving van tailgated us, blocking out the view from behind. Cooper veered sharply to the right and took the exit. When I checked, I couldn’t see the black car anymore. The garage Grease talked about was located on the outskirts of Bloomington, so we doubled back and found it at the end of several warehouses in a large industrial park. It looked deserted. We parked behind a large oak tree a discreet distance away, but close enough to see the front door.

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“Sherry mentioned a stolen car operation,” Cooper said. “If Jackson is involved with stolen cars, he has to keep them somewhere. Maybe this garage is his.” An hour passed and nothing happened. My eyes drifted shut. When I opened them again, Cooper had his arms around me, and my head rested on his chest. “What time is it?” I asked as I sat up. “Midnight.” “Holy cow. Guess I needed a little more sleep.” “Did you know you snore?” “I do not.” “Oh, yes you do,” Cooper said, smiling. “Next time I’ll bring a tape recorder.” I poked him gently in the arm and glanced toward the garage. “Anything happening over there?” “Not yet.” “What exactly are we waiting for?” “I don’t know. We’ll know when we see it.” Cooper drew me back into the circle of his arms. “We haven’t got anything better to do.” He kissed the top of my head. “Anyway, I like holding you.” “You do?” “Why do you sound so surprised?” I looked up at him. “I don’t know. Maybe because it feels so good, I’m afraid it won’t last.” “You worry too much.” “I just don’t get how you and Sherry...I mean I’m very different from her.” Cooper shrugged. “I know, I told you, I’ve never met anyone like you.” “But you’re obviously into blondes with big boobs,” I said. “So why are you into me?” “You’re right,” Cooper agreed as his eyes dropped to my

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chest. “I’d better take a closer look at yours, to make sure they’re the right size.” At my outraged expression, Cooper laughed out loud. “That’s why I like you, Hannah Hailstone. You make me laugh.” He kissed me hard, until I couldn’t breathe anymore, then eased away, keeping his arms around me. “I should have ended it weeks ago with Sherry, but I put it off. She saved me the trouble when she bailed on me. It was better that way, you know? I didn’t feel guilty, and she didn’t get hurt. Sherry’s not as sure of herself as you are. She’s vanilla pudding. You’re a hot fudge sundae, with a cherry on top.” His warm body next to mine made me giddy. “What’s wrong with vanilla pudding?” Cooper pressed me tighter against him. “My mother made vanilla pudding every Thursday night for dessert, like clockwork. I got sick of it. It’s too bland.” I watched his green eyes darken like a storm at sea. “You like hot fudge sundaes more?” Cooper kissed me on the forehead, then moved his mouth lower to nuzzle my neck. “They’re my favorite,” he whispered in my ear. His mouth tickled, and I giggled. “So you’re saying that even if you hadn’t crawled into my car…say I’d brought it to your garage to be fixed…you’d have asked me out?” “In a heartbeat,” Cooper replied as his mouth covered mine. As we kissed, something inside of me caught like a brush fire and burst into flames. I tugged at Cooper’s shirt and slipped my hands beneath it, smoothing the hard muscular ridges of his abdomen and chest with my palms. I heard his intake of breath. “Does that hurt?” I whispered, remembering his bruises. “Yeah,” Cooper groaned, “but not in the way you think.” When I touched his nipples with the tips of my fingers, his

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head fell back against the seat. They grew taut under my caress and I wondered what it would be like to touch him everywhere. I was woefully inexperienced. High school had consisted of groping in the back seat of cars and fending off invading hands that were too demanding and kisses that had no meaning. College had been an experiment in frustration. I’d never really explored my feminine sexual potential. Curiosity overwhelmed me, and I decided to erase all memory of Sherry from Cooper’s mind, heart and body, forever. I moved my hands lower and slowly undid the zipper of his jeans. Cooper’s eyes flew open. His breathing was uneven. When I gathered the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, he stopped breathing altogether for several heartbeats. He was hard velvet, firm, but silky, too. “Wow,” I said. He was beautiful. I stroked and squeezed, circling my hands tenderly around him, cupping him gently until he moaned. Then I lowered my head and took him fully in my mouth. He fisted his hands in my hair and groaned my name. “Hannah.” I scraped him gently with my teeth and teased with my tongue, soft at first, then harder. I sucked him rhythmically, splaying my hands across his navel, growing more confident with each motion. I took him deeper inside, until he filled me completely. His hips bucked as I flicked my tongue on the tip of his erection, and he pulled my head back and hissed, but I wasn’t finished. I held on to him, sucking and stroking until he was still. I rested with my head in his lap as he gently brushed my hair with trembling fingers. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said. I smiled up at him, and knew I’d never be the same again.

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I could fly out of the car window, into the night, and soar up to the moon. I was powerful, strong and happier than I’d ever been in my life. “But it’s not really fair for me to have all the fun,” he added as he gathered me into his arms. “I believe in equality between the sexes.” “So do I,” I agreed as his hand disappeared between my thighs. His fingers were on my zipper when he stiffened. “What’s the matter?” “There’s someone in the garage,” Cooper whispered. I twisted my head around. Sure enough, there were lights on inside the building. Talk about bad timing. “Can I take a rain check?” I asked as I sat up and smoothed my hair. “You’ll get one in writing, I promise,” Cooper muttered as he rearranged his clothing and zipped up his jeans. We got out of the car and scurried down a small incline. “What are you going to do if your bike is here?” I asked as we waded through a patch of tall grass. “I’m going to make a bargain with Jackson, or whoever works for him. My bike in exchange for the information Sherry stole from him.” I stopped dead and grabbed Cooper’s arm. “You can’t do that. What about my father?” Cooper’s face was hardly visible in the night shadows, but I heard regret in his voice. “Hannah, you can’t protect your father forever. If he’s done something wrong, it really doesn’t matter what happens to this information, does it? Sooner or later, the truth will come out.” Panic bubbled in my throat. “You could destroy it. Then no one would have to know anything.” “And allow Jackson and his thugs to get away with beating the crap out of me and stealing my bike? I don’t think so.”

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I knew he was right, but I had to find a way to protect my father. “Cooper—” “Let’s find out if my bike is here first, okay? Then we can argue about it some more.” We tiptoed around the side of the building and peeked in the window. “I can’t see squat, it’s covered in dirt,” Cooper whispered beside me. “Come on.” I followed him around the back. We could hear the whine of electric drills, the rumbling of men talking. “If this place is out of business, I’m Madonna.” “I need to get in there,” Cooper said. “I’ll bet my last dollar my bike is in this garage, if it’s not razor blades by now.” “You can’t just walk in, it’s too dangerous.” I glanced up and saw a small window a few feet over my head. “Give me a boost. I think I can get a better view through there.” Cooper made a step for me with his hands, and hoisted me up. “Man, you don’t weigh anything at all.” Not only was this guy cute, but he said all the right things. I grabbed the ledge of the window and peeked through. “What can you see, Hannah?” “Cars. Lots of them. Some guy with a spray gun. Some other guy cracking off a fender.” “A Harley?” I shook my head. “Sorry. Not that I can see from here.” “Seen enough?” “Yep.” Just as my feet touched the ground we heard a noise behind us. Two men were approaching from the other side of the building. My heart sank when I noticed the video camera hanging from the corner of the roof. We didn’t have time to outrun them. “Busted,” I muttered.

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Cooper cursed and bent down. When he straightened, there was a two-by-four in his hands, and he held it out in front of him like a weapon. The two men lunged at the same time. I took the one on the left. My opponent came at me with a smirk. He probably figured he could hoist me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. I surprised him by twisting around, grabbing his arm and bending it back on his shoulder. I kicked him behind his knees and flipped him over. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cooper ram the two-byfour into his opponent’s chest, sending him flying. So far he was holding his own. I planted both feet as my challenger came at me again. I jumped, swung my left leg high, kicked him in the chest with my right leg, and pushed him into a pile of garbage cans. I spun around and landed on my swinging left leg. I thought I heard the sound of a car behind me, but before I could react, my man had shaken himself off and was coming back for more. I made the next move count. I brought my leg straight up in front of me and down again, moving my body slightly to the side, and nailed him in the gut with a thrust of my heel. He toppled backwards, hit his head against the pavement, and lay still. I turned around, but I was alone. “Cooper?” The thug had disappeared, and so had Cooper.

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broke a few speed limits on the way home. I didn’t care that thugs had targeted my shop, I needed a plan. And a gun. I’d driven down every street and every alley around the perimeter of the garage with both windows open, listening and looking for any sign of Cooper or a suspicious car. Nothing. The car I’d heard during the fight belonged to either Jackson or his men. It was the only explanation. They’d tailed us, waiting for the right time, and had taken Cooper somewhere to finish what they started. Fighting back frantic tears, I let myself into the shop and raced into the storage room to retrieve the .22 from behind a sack of navy beans. I climbed the stairs two at a time, unlocked the door of my apartment and fought the impulse to scream at the top of my lungs. There was a black ache inside of me that I knew would never go away until I saw Cooper again. I wondered what it meant. If this was love, I didn’t like it very much.

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I retrieved the bullets from the bottom of my underwear drawer, and loaded the .22. I put the gun, the police computer list and my newly charged cell phone into a canvas tote bag. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, buried my face in my hands and cried. Maybe I should go to the police and take my chances. But Sherry had warned us that Jackson had cops in his pocket. What if that meant the whole damn precinct? The most important thing at that moment was to find Cooper. That meant finding Jackson. Sherry had been no help. Besides, she was on a bus to Nowhereville. Jackson’s office was closed, and his pit-bull secretary wouldn’t let me near him anyway. There was only one chance to find Cooper, only one person who might know where Jackson was. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again.

I marched up the porch steps and banged on the door of Che’s headquarters. I had circled the racetrack three times before I finally found the long driveway to his house. I’d only seen the place once before, in the dead of night, but I recognized the front porch and the narrow windows facing the road. There were no lights visible inside. The night clouds had cleared, and the half moon cast a faint glow on the darkened yard. The air was cool, and I shivered while I waited. Several moments later, the door opened, and Che’s chauffeur stood before me. He had spiky red hair and a thin mouth set in a permanent frown. He looked like he’d just woken up, which made sense since it was the middle of the night. He stared at me, his eyes hardening with recognition after a few seconds.

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“What?” I got straight to the point, since every second counted. “I need to talk to Che.” Red sized me up. “What are you, nuts? It’s two o’clock in the fucking morning.” “I’m aware of that, just get him. Please.” After a mumbled curse, he slammed the door in my face. I waited, not sure what to do. I decided to give Red a few more minutes, and hopped up and down to stay warm. I could feel the reassuring weight of the gun in my tote bag, and it strengthened my resolve. Finally the door was wrenched open again and Red gestured with a curt nod of his head for me to come in. I stepped past him and found Che standing in the living room, such as it was. Two misshapen couches, that looked about a hundred years old, graced each wall. The only other furniture consisted of a card table and three lawn chairs, taking up a corner. “Well, well,” Che greeted me with coal-black eyes that glinted with both curiosity and menace at the same time. He was dressed in wrinkle-free khakis and a dark brown camp shirt, and except for the fact that his hair needed combing, he looked wide-awake. I had a sneaking suspicion the man never slept. “What should I call you? Sherry or Hannah?” “I never told you I was Sherry, you made an assumption. An incorrect one,” I pointed out, then mentally slapped myself. This man was a killer. It wasn’t a good idea to haggle over details. To my surprise, laughter rumbled in his throat and surfaced, but quickly developed into a coughing fit. When his face turned purple I looked around for help, but we were alone in the room. I prepared myself to perform the Heimlich maneuver, when Che held up his hand and started breathing again.

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“My apologies. Please, sit,” he rasped, gesturing toward the corner. I sunk into one of the lawn chairs. Several straps on the seat were broken and I had to lean to one side to prevent my bottom from falling through. “Well,” Che said, sitting opposite me, “whoever you are, you’ve got more balls than half the people who work for me. By the way, did you like the homecoming present I sent you?” I stifled a shiver. “Yeah, thanks. It was a real scream.” He smiled. “I’m sure he was.” “I didn’t come here to talk about that.” “Why did you come, Hannah?” “I have a business proposition for you,” I said. He chuckled and gestured with his hand. “Go on.” “The man Sherry worked for, Jackson, has taken someone I care about. I have to find him, but I don’t know how. I need your help.” “And if I don’t help you?” I hesitated. “You have to.” “I’m sorry, you’ve wasted a trip. I have enough problems. I don’t want to get involved.” I shot from the chair and tried to keep the desperation out of my voice. “Jackson owns the information Sherry sold you. She stole it from him. Mr. Che, this could be a win-win for you. You could demand the money Sherry cheated out of you, since she was technically working for Jackson at the time, and get the information you want too.” Che’s eyes narrowed. “In exchange for what?” “For helping me find Jackson.” Che steepled his fingers together and looked thoughtful. “You have the information?” “Yes.” “How did you get it?”

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“Sherry gave it to me.” “Where is it now?” “In the pocket of a friend of mine,” I said. “Jackson’s kidnapped him. He’s already tried to kill him twice.” Che shrugged. “How do I know you won’t just steal the information for yourself?” I exhaled sharply. “Because I’m not interested in the stupid information. I’m interested in saving my friend’s ass. He’s in trouble and there isn’t much time.” The room grew silent and I feared Che had gone into a trance. Finally, he pushed himself out of the chair. “I don’t think so,” Che said. “How do I know this isn’t a set up?” “Because you can trust me.” He quirked his head. “Oh?” “Did the cops come banging on your door after you sent your present over to my place?” Amusement spread across his features. “No.” I took a step closer. “Listen, Che, do you think I have nothing better to do than to make nocturnal deals with criminals? I manage a business. I have a life. I want it back. I want my friend back. The longer we stand here discussing it, the more time we’re wasting.” Che sized me up one more time, then nodded. “Why not, Hannah? I’ve had a bitch of a day, and now my bronchitis is acting up and I can’t sleep for shit. Might as well go for a ride.”

I sat cringing on the back seat of Che’s car, a roomy Cutlass of uncertain vintage. On the way to our destination we made a quick stop outside a grungy apartment building where a wiry, snarling man jumped into the backseat beside me. Startled, I

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hugged the door, but he didn’t even look at me. He carried a large black case. It looked like a musical instrument, but I had a feeling he wasn’t a trumpet player. We ended up in front of an office complex off the I-55. There were no lights on inside. The air was frosty and I could see my breath. I said a little prayer, one for Cooper, and one for me. If I made one wrong move, any of these men could decide to do away with me and I’d never be heard from again. “Where are we?” I ventured to ask. “If Jackson is anywhere, he’s here,” Che replied. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Che’s judgment, but I needed to be sure. “How do you know?” Che glared at me. “I’m a professional.” I bit my lip. We approached the front door. Not surprisingly, it was locked. At this point, I’d have had to turn back, but Red produced an impressive-looking pocketknife. Instead of the usual attachments, like a nail file, a screwdriver, or scissors, this one had a selection of long, pointed tools that resembled dental instruments. He slid one under the latch and the door unlocked. I experienced a brief surge of admiration until I realized that was probably how they broke into my apartment to dump the dead body. There were no signs that indicated a store or business of any kind, yet Che and his men seemed to know their way around the place. We climbed a staircase to the second floor and prowled past a long hallway of dark offices to the last door. There were noises on the other side: talking, laughing, and the distinct smell of cigar smoke. “Sounds like they’re having a party,” Che remarked, calmly watching me. I forced myself to breathe and stay upright despite the fact that my lungs were lodged in the back of my throat.

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I never expected Che to knock. I expected him to break the door down, yell freeze or charge in to add the element of surprise, but not knock. An ominous silence drifted from the room. After a scuffing of chairs and footsteps, the door opened. It was Stu, and behind him, Dr. Burly. They both had guns. I heard clicking behind me. Red and the other man had produced guns too. Now everyone was on a level playing field, except me. Che began the pleasantries. “Good evening, sorry to disturb. We’re here to talk to Jackson. This young lady says he took something from her, and she wants it back.” Stu and Burly hesitated, then opened the door wider, guns locked and loaded. Norman Jackson was seated behind a large round oak table. He had a crew cut and a pockmarked face. His eyes were hooded, which gave him a casual, relaxed demeanor. But the penetrating look he gave me was anything but relaxed. We’d obviously interrupted his poker game. There were two other men seated at the table, neither of whom I recognized. Behind Jackson stood Miss Bun, his latest secretary. When she saw me, Miss Bun bent down and whispered something in Jackson’s ear. He nodded and his face darkened like a thundercloud. I decided he wasn’t as civilized as Che, which didn’t say much. The door closed behind us, and I felt like the proverbial fly in a spider’s web. “Hannah Hailstone,” Jackson muttered. “You don’t look like him.” “Who?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t hear my voice shake. “Your father.” My heart flip-flopped. “I have my mother’s looks and my father’s brains.”

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Jackson smirked. “So what the hell do you want?” Down to business. “I want Cooper.” “Who the hell is Cooper?” “He’s the guy your guard dogs beat to a pulp in the alley behind Belcher’s, the guy they tried to finish off in the hospital, the guy who has the information Sherry stole from you. Oh, yes,” I added, “and the guy who owns the good-looking Harley you ripped off.” Jackson’s lower lip drooped as he took it all in. Then he picked up the cigar from the ashtray in front of him and shoved it between his teeth. “Oh, that Cooper,” he said. “Well, I want him too, so that makes two of us. Where is he?” This wasn’t going the way I’d hoped. I glanced desperately at Che, and he obliged by speaking up. “Allow me to clarify things a little. Hannah thinks you have Cooper. Do you?” Jackson’s eyes narrowed as smoke curled around his face. “Who the fuck are you?” “I’m Che Santiago. I paid ten thousand dollars for information your former secretary sold me. Unfortunately she had a change of heart. Now I’m out of pocket, and I didn’t get the goods I paid for.” Jackson paled when he heard the name Santiago, and his right eye flickered. Otherwise he didn’t move. “My heart bleeds,” Jackson said. “Yes, it will,” Che promised softly, his eyes glittering, “if someone doesn’t give me my money back.” “That double-crossing bitch,” Jackson mumbled under his breath. “Listen, Santiago,” he continued loudly, “who do I look like, JC Penney? Sherry had no right to sell you anything. I don’t give no money back guarantees. If you trusted her, that’s your problem, not mine. I want my documents back. If she,” he said, pointing at me, “knows where they are, she better hand them over, now.”

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“Look,” I said in a voice that was stronger than I felt, “Cooper has the documents you want. Just let him go, and we’ll leave you guys to discuss the rest of your business ‘cause it’s got nothing to do with us.” Jackson stood and glared at me. “Listen, Hailstone. Read my lips. I don’t have Cooper.” “I don’t believe you,” I said over the lump in my throat. Gesturing widely with both hands, Jackson glanced around. “Look for yourself. He’s not here. If I had taken him, and he had my papers, he’d already be dead, and so would you. The only reason I’m not going to waste you now is so you can give him a message for me. Tell him I want those documents back, and I want them back yesterday.” Che held up a finger. “Excuse me, Jackson, but they’re actually my documents. If you think I’m leaving without my money, you’re very much mistaken.” It had all been a horrible waste of time. If Jackson had taken Cooper, surely he’d have admitted it by now. What did he have to gain by lying to me? So if Jackson didn’t have Cooper, then where was he? And how was I going to get out of here so I could continue looking for him? Even if I managed to pull the .22 out of my bag, I’d be dead before I had a chance to fire. I wasn’t exactly Billy the Kid. My only chance was to bluff. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I interrupted, “could I make a suggestion?” All eyes turned to me. “There is a way everyone here can walk away satisfied. Here’s what I propose,” I said in my best lawyer’s voice. “The matter of the money is unfortunate, but could easily be resolved by a poker game. Put ten grand in the pot. Whoever wins gets the money. Problem solved. It’s the fairest way.” “Who’s going to supply the ten G’s?” Jackson asked.

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I crossed my fingers behind my back. “I will. In addition, you allow me to retrieve the documents for both of you, since I’m the best candidate to find Cooper, and he trusts me. Once you receive the papers, you’ll have to work together to decide what to do with them.” I looked pointedly at Che. “I believe Che wants to use the information to strengthen his position among his business associates.” I turned to Jackson. “And I’m sure your main concern is protecting your reputation.” There was silence a moment, then I added quietly, “The other alternative is to allow things to get nasty, which would only result in several of you getting shot, perhaps killed. The sound of gunfire would attract the attention of the police.” The logic of my plan was inescapable, and the way Che and Jackson exchanged glances, I knew they knew it too. Jackson raised his bushy eyebrows. “How do we know you ain’t gonna leave town on the next bus?” “Because Hannah and I have a deal,” Che answered for me. “She promised I would get my money and the information I paid for if I helped her find you. Since I’m leaving emptyhanded, I’ll insist on payback.” “But—” “No buts,” Che replied with a cunning smile. “The terms of our agreement were quite clear. When I decide how you will reimburse me, you’ll be the first to know. For now, I give my word to everyone in this room that Hannah will complete the plan she has suggested, or answer personally to me.” Jackson shrugged. “Whatever. She can be your problem, Santiago, suits me fine. Now if you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of a game here.” I could feel the jaws of a giant trap door shutting over me. “I’m going to need some time to get the money,” I pleaded. “Of course, Hannah,” Che replied. “We’re reasonable men, aren’t we Jackson?”

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“Yeah, reasonable,” Jackson hissed through the cigar clamped between his teeth. “You know, I take it back, Hailstone. You’re more like your father than I realized.” That didn’t exactly give me any comfort.

The man of my dreams had disappeared and I had run out of places to look for him. Before I left him, Che burdened me with a deadline: I had until Thursday at noon to come up with ten thousand dollars cash, and to retrieve the stolen information from Cooper, who could be at the bottom of Sugar Creek by now. If he was, then my life was over anyway. I’d spent most of the night with two criminals, and now I was their partner. All in a night’s work. Yes, my father would be proud. I’d hit rock bottom. I used to be a top law student, fighting injustice and crime. Now I was a washed up store manager, in cahoots with men who stole, killed, and God only knew what else for a living. There was no reason why I couldn’t sleep in my own bed, since now I worked for the men who had threatened me at gunpoint in the store, and who had frightened me with a dead body on my doorstep. I entered my apartment, slammed the door shut, and collapsed into a heap on the floor. I gave into the fear that had haunted me all night, and wept long and hard for Cooper. I cried not only for the man, I cried because I’d lost any dreams or plans I might have had with him. When I was too tired to sob any more, I pulled myself to my feet and staggered to the phone. I called the police to report Cooper missing, and gave them my mother’s name and phone number, since I knew that giving my real name would only

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raise a million questions I wasn’t prepared to answer yet. I prayed that maybe they’d be able to find him better than I could. That somehow, he wasn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or being tortured. I gave myself a mental shake. I couldn’t crawl into a corner and give up. Not yet, anyway. I was in trouble. If I didn’t complete what I had so foolishly promised, I was a dead duck. I couldn’t run a comb through the mass of tangled frizz in the back of my head, so I gave up. I stifled the urge to shave myself bald, drew a hot bath and threw in half a bottle of bath gel. I read the label. It contained Coneflower, an antiseptic: Acacia, a soothing agent for skin, and Passion Fruit, known for its sedative qualities. The bath gel promised to calm, soothe and uplift my spirits. Just what I needed. As I immersed myself in the water and lay my head against the back of the tub, I decided if I didn’t feel completely serene by the time the bath was finished, I would sue the bath gel company for ten grand. That would be a good way to solve my sudden cash flow problem. I had about a thousand dollars in my savings account. I couldn’t borrow the money from my mother since she was a single woman living on an artist’s salary. That left my father, who was in Vegas, nursing his gambling addiction. I shouldn’t be so shocked at my predicament. I’d been spawned by two loveable, immoral kooks. I was their offspring. It made a good case for never getting married and having children of my own. But the idea that my father could have an association with Norman Jackson was sickening. Jackson was the kind of man my father had spent his whole life despising. When my skin began to wrinkle I stepped out of the tub, rubbed down with a thick towel and wrapped myself in my

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warmest flannel pajamas. There was nothing like flannel to give comfort. I made cinnamon toast and tea and lay on the couch channel surfing. My eyelids began to droop, so I plodded to my bedroom and crawled into bed. As my head hit the pillow it occurred to me that Cooper had been the last person in the bed. I buried my nose in the sheets, to breathe in his scent, but I couldn’t smell anything. My sinuses were plugged from crying. I lay there in a ball of misery, as silent tears spilled down my cheeks.

I dreamt there was a man perched in my window. I woke up in a cold sweat, turned on my side and opened one eye. There was a man perched in my window. I sat up in bed and let out a deafening scream. The man lunged at me. I screamed again, my voice growing hoarse. “Hannah, it’s me!” I stared in disbelief at the dark-fringed green eyes, shaggy hair and day’s growth of beard. “C...Cooper?”

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Fifteen I

rose up on my knees, threw my arms around him and burst into tears. “I—oh, my God. I thought you were dead,” I sobbed as I buried my face in his neck. He knelt on the bed and held me tightly, rocking me gently back and forth. “I missed you, baby,” he whispered into my ear as he trailed kisses along my temple. I pulled away and cradled his face with my hands. “What happened? Where have you been?” He kissed my palms. “I don’t want to talk right now. I just want to touch you.” He spread his fingers into my hair and kissed my mouth. His tongue captured mine as I pulled his body closer. His hands moved lower and slipped underneath my pajama top. I moaned as he cupped my breasts and began to knead them. His thumbs traced small circles over my nipples and sent licks of fire shooting down to my navel, and lower. I frantically undid the buttons of my pajama top and shrugged it off. I didn’t want anything between Cooper’s hands and my skin.

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“Flannel PJs,” Cooper whispered. “Very sexy.” His hands made me breathless, and my nipples hardened under his touch. “If I’d known you were going to crawl through my window, I’d have put on something naughtier,” I said hoarsely. Desire sparked in his eyes. “Do you own something naughty?” “Well, no.” Cooper lowered his head and licked the pink, hard tip of one breast. I moaned and wondered if a person could die from ecstasy. “We’ll have to fix that,” Cooper mumbled as he suckled first one breast, then the other. He hooked his thumbs on my elastic waistband and pulled my pajama bottoms down to my knees. We kissed each other again, long, wet kisses as he fondled my bottom tenderly. He moved his hand to my pelvis and slipped his finger into the hot, moist slickness awaiting him. First one finger, then two, as showers of pleasure rained down on me. “Oh,” I groaned. His thumb pressed the folds, teasing, flicking, until he exposed the small, sensitive bud inside. His hands began a rhythmic dance, and my hips moved with them. The pressure inside of me grew to fever pitch, until I rode his hand with a frenzy that sent me spiraling to an unknown summit. “Come for me,” he breathed. An explosion of pleasure rocked me and spread outward through every nerve ending. I hung on to him, my knees trembling, as hot, beautiful waves carried me higher and higher. He held me until the waves turned to ripples, then gently laid me down on my back. He whipped my pajama bottoms off so fast I wondered if he could do that trick with the tablecloth, the one where all the

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dishes stayed put. At that moment I believed that Cooper could do anything. As I lay there panting, he stripped off his clothes and knelt over me. He searched his jeans pocket and produced a small package. I smiled. “Now that’s what I call being prepared.” Cooper grinned and sheathed himself with the condom. “I told you I missed you, didn’t I?” His body was soft and warm as he propped himself up on one good arm, and one casted one, and kissed me hungrily. I folded my knees back and invited his hard length inside of me. When we were one, he moved his hips in the ancient rhythm and filled the dark, empty place inside of me with brilliant light. The motion of him rose and fell like a sensuous tide, and sent aching pleasure through me. I clung to his muscular shoulders, traced his glistening skin with my nails, caressed the bruises still visible over his ribs. We rocked each other until the thrusts sent us toward sweet release. Our breathing grew harder, faster, and matched our movements until my hips convulsed, and a wave of squeezing, exquisite heat bore down on me. Cooper threw his head back and groaned. He bucked against me, gradually slowing, and then lay beside me. We held each other, replete and exhausted. “Mmmm,” I murmured as I snuggled into him and he wrapped his arms around me. “Did you like it?” “There are no words.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to come down off the cloud of happiness I was riding. Didn’t want to know where Cooper had been, where my father was, what my problems were. I only wanted to breathe in Cooper, his masculine scent, his warm strength, and bask in it for as long as I could.

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Cooper nuzzled my shoulder. “A speechless Hannah. Must have been pretty good.”

Panic flared in my gut when I discovered I was alone in the bed, until I heard the sound of the shower running. I glanced at the clock: ten-thirty. I stretched and rolled out of bed. Every muscle was relaxed, every fiber hummed and whistled with sexual fulfillment. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. This was definitely a better kick-start to the day than caffeine. I padded to the bathroom, which by now was steamed up like a sauna. “Excuse me, sir, but you’re using up all the hot water,” I announced as I pushed back the shower curtain. “My tank isn’t very large, you know.” Cooper grinned at me as I joined him under the warm stream of water. “I’m afraid I have to insist that you share that bar of soap,” I added. “It’s my last one.” Cooper twisted around and chuckled. “I’m a reasonable guy. I wouldn’t want to use the last of your soap. We can share.” He proceeded to spread soapy lather all over me, concentrating on my breasts and bottom, as he teased my mouth with his. Several minutes passed, and he was still lathering me. “I think I’m clean, Cooper.” Laughing, he pulled me under the spray to rinse me off, and dropped onto his knees to rub my feet. His breath was hot on my belly. “It seems to me the last time we were together I had a little unfinished business to attend to,” Cooper said into my navel. My whole body flushed with anticipation.

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When he kissed the soft hair between my thighs and moved lower, my breath caught. His tongue began slow circles in and out of the sensitive folds, and I shuddered. I planted my foot on the side of the tub and arched my back. “I wouldn’t want you to miss a spot,” I murmured. I pushed against the wall with my arms to stop myself from collapsing on legs of jelly. Cooper’s hands held my bottom as his mouth and tongue continued their magic until a familiar sweet pain grew from the core of me, blossoming then bursting until I cried out. I floated gently down again in a warm, sensual haze, and noted absently that Cooper had his hands on my hips and turned me to face the wall. He kissed the back of my neck. “Stay right there. Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered. I obliged, since I was too weak to move, and wondered what Cooper was up to. I heard him climb back in the shower and felt his hands on my hips again. He pressed his hand against the small of my back and bent me forward. Something hard probed my swollen folds, and I repositioned my hips to accommodate his erection. I gasped as he filled me again, and braced myself against the wall with both hands. His thrusts were deep and all consuming, and soon I was panting again, crying out as he bucked his hips against my bottom, faster and faster. He fingered me in front, teasing and touching to bring me further pleasure. The pleasure peaked and exploded, and I moaned as Cooper stiffened. We drifted back down together, still joined, and Cooper trailed kisses down my spine. Then he shut the shower off, since the water was now lukewarm. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me upright. “Good morning,” he said lazily as he kissed the side of my neck.

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“Promise me you’ll wake me every morning like this,” I murmured. His warm breath tickled my shoulder as he laughed. “Every chance I get.” “I’ve never done it like that.” Cooper twisted me in his arms and smiled. “How do you want to do it next?” I giggled as I slid from him, grabbed a large bath towel and wrapped us up together. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do first.” “I guess I do, don’t I?” We stumbled to the bed and fell on it together, and he rolled me on top of him and brushed the hair from my face. “Be careful, you’ll hurt yourself,” I said as I smiled down at him. “I don’t feel any pain when I’m with you,” Cooper replied. “Now, where do I start?” “Start at the garage. One minute you’re fighting with Goon number one, the next thing you’re gone.” “Right. Do you remember the black car that followed us?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m dealing with my man, letting my two-by-four do the talking, when all of a sudden this car pulls up behind me. Two guys jump out, grab me and drag me inside. I don’t know what happened to the goon. He took off in the other direction.” I rolled off him and propped myself up on one elbow. “Who were they?” “Feds.” “Feds? What the hell did they want?” “They’re investigating a robbery. They think Jackson’s involved, so they’re tailing him.” “Then what did they want with you?” “They’re watching anyone connected to Jackson, including Sherry. They followed us from Sherry’s hotel.”

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“But you don’t know anything about a robbery.” “That’s what I spent eight hours trying to tell them. They grilled me pretty good. I must have convinced them I was telling the truth ‘cause they finally let me go.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why would the Feds be interested in a simple robbery?” Cooper traced my cheek with his finger. “I knew you’d ask me that. Apparently, it wasn’t a simple robbery. It was an armed, Federal payroll heist, and—you’re gonna love this—it happened in nineteen sixty-nine.” “That’s weird.” “Tell me about it. I told them what I already knew about Jackson, about his thugs trying to kill me, my stolen bike, but they couldn’t have cared less. They were only interested in finding evidence against Jackson.” “What kind of evidence?” Guilt flashed across Cooper’s face. “They searched me, and found Jackson’s documents.” I sat bolt upright. “Oh, my God. You gave the documents to them?” Cooper pushed himself to a sitting position with his good arm. “You think I wanted to? It’s not like I had any choice. I’m talking about the feds here. Not all that different from the goons, only legal.” “Well, you should have put up more of a fuss,” I said uneasily. “Those papers were the only bargaining chip I had to get my bike back, Hannah. Believe me, I didn’t want to give them up.” My heart sank. “This isn’t good news for Dad, is it?” “No. They’re going to confiscate Jackson’s files. Whatever secrets your father has aren’t going to be secret for too much longer.”

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I rubbed my temples and tried to think. “Those documents are proof that Jackson is a thief who sells police information, along with some of his cop buddies, right?” “Right.” “Do they also prove Jackson’s involved with this Federal payroll heist?” “Don’t know. Maybe they’re enough to make an arrest, so they can shake the rest out of him. I’m telling you, the fact I even had those papers in my possession caused quite a stir.” “You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered. Cooper tensed. “What do you mean?” I twisted a tendril of hair. “I was pretty busy while you were gone.” “I don’t like the sound of that.” Cooper grabbed a couple of pillows and shoved them behind his head. “What have you done now?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cooper reached for my hand. “Baby, I think you’re wonderful, you know that. But whenever I leave you alone, it’s bad news.” “I thought you were dead,” I insisted defensively. “I thought Jackson had kidnapped you, and I had to get you back.” Cooper’s jaw tightened. “Go on.” I recounted my adventures of the previous night, from my visit to Che to my ill advised but very necessary negotiations to get away from Jackson in one piece. When I finished, Cooper looked at me in disbelief. “You made a deal with two killers to save me?” he asked. I nodded and held my chin higher. “I’d do it again, too.” Cooper’s eyes grew dark with emotion, and he threaded his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. That’s the craziest, stupidest, most unselfish thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

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“I’m not sorry, you know.” “I’d be lying if I said the things you do don’t scare me to death.” “I was in a jam, and I had to get out of it.” “Out of the frying pan, into the fire.” I shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.” “Like what?” Cooper demanded. “The documents you promised these guys are now with Federal agents. Where are you going to get your hands on ten grand?” “Why don’t you stop asking so many questions, and come up with some answers?” I scrambled off the bed and slipped into my robe. “I need coffee.” “Hannah—” I ignored him and marched into the kitchen. How was it possible to want to kiss a man all over and wring his neck at the same time? I didn’t need Cooper to point out the obvious. I was in big trouble. I’d done it for him, and he didn’t seem grateful at all. As if my emotions weren’t jumbled enough, a few minutes later Cooper strolled into the kitchen looking delicious in his faded jeans and white tee-shirt, that emphasized his ripped chest and firm abdomen. His hair was tousled, which only made him look sexier. He had a hopeful look on his face. “I made the bed.” Add boyish charm to his sexiness and I was ready to slit one of our throats. I threw him a look that said ‘I couldn’t care less’ and turned on the coffee maker. Cooper lounged against the counter and watched me. “I think I know where we could get the money.” “Never mind, it’s my problem. I’ll fix it.” I kept my back to him and scrubbed the counter, even though it didn’t need it. Lord, I was becoming my mother. “You’re in this mess because of me,” Cooper said.

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I was torn between the urge to throw myself into his arms and the urge to kick him in the shins. “I know that already. Guess it was a stupid thing to do.” I heard him come up behind me. His hands settled on my waist and his breath warmed the back of my ear lobe. “I hate it when we argue,” he whispered as he pressed me into the counter. “All we seem to do is fight and kiss,” I complained, growing breathless at the tingle of pleasure his touch generated. Cooper dragged his teeth across the nape of my neck, sending a cascade of desire down my back. “You know, my life used to be a straight line. I knew exactly where I was going. Since I crawled into your car, it’s been a nonstop roller coaster ride.” I twisted around and placed my hands on his chest. “Are you complaining?” “No, ma’am. I love roller coasters. They’re a rush, just like you.” His mouth covered mine, and soon we were sharing deep, wet kisses. Cooper spread my robe open and gazed at me with hungry eyes. “Are we going to do it in the kitchen?” I asked in a husky voice as my body grew feverish. Nodding, Cooper cupped my breasts in his hands and kissed my collarbone. “Definitely.” We started in the kitchen, and ended up in bed. But the ominous deadline that hung over our heads threw a wrench in our brand new love affair. As tempting as it was, we couldn’t spend the whole day the way we wanted to. I sat cross-legged on my bed, wrapped in a sheet, and finished off the fried egg sandwich Cooper had made me for breakfast. My mind raced. I’d solved one of my problems. I had Cooper back. But things could only get worse from here. I had no documents, no money, and needed both in twenty-four hours.

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Cooper pulled on his jeans. “How much cash do you have?” “Not much. A thousand.” “I’ve got about two thousand saved.” I stared at him. “I can’t let you do that.” “Hannah—” “No, Cooper.” I uncrossed my legs and tucked them underneath me. “It was my mouth that got me into this mess. What’s your other idea?” Cooper’s eyes dropped to my chest, momentarily distracted by my half-naked breasts. I pulled the sheet higher to help him refocus. “I don’t think you want to hear it.” “Yes, I do.” He sat on the bed. “There’s this guy, a friend of a friend. He could lend me seven grand. Add that to the three thousand between us, and we’d be cooking with gas.” I raised my eyebrows. “So a guy’s going to lend you seven grand, because he’s nice, and anxious to hand over money to a complete stranger, with no strings attached?” “I’m not a stranger,” Cooper said. “I’ve played pool with him a couple of times.” “So that makes you bosom buddies?” “Bosom?” Cooper smiled, pinched the top hem of my sheet and tugged. “No, but he owes me a favor.” I clutched the sheet tighter. “What kind of favor?” Cooper rolled his eyes. “Quit badgering me. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is you need cash fast. We don’t have a hell of a lot of choice.” “But how will I pay him back?” “We,” Cooper corrected me. “I don’t expect you to carry this by yourself. I’m sure we can work something out.” I hated the idea. The thought of handing over that much money to Jackson and Che made me want to spit nails.

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“So how do we find this guy?” “Leave it with me.” Cooper ogled my cleavage, which wasn’t as generous as Sherry’s, but ran a close second. He traced his finger from the notch of my throat down to the top of the sheet. His touch made my skin flush and ache for more. I tried to concentrate on our conversation. “I don’t like the sound of this.” Cooper smirked. “Hey, you’re not the only one who can get into trouble.” Now his hand approached from a different direction: the bottom of the sheet, upward. I could feel his fingers skim my thigh. My breathing picked up. “Which still leaves us with the matter of the information I promised to give back to Jackson. We don’t have it anymore.” “So we fake it, give them something else.” I shook my head. “They’re nasty, but they’re not stupid.” “Okay. Let’s think this through.” Cooper rested his hand on my hip. “There were three papers: the one I found in my knapsack with your father’s name on it, which we still have, but don’t know what it is. I think Jackson’s lost track of that one, so we should keep it. The second paper is a list of recent busts. The third is a list of confiscated evidence. They were all from a police computer.” “Correct.” “So all we need to do is hack into the police department’s records and print off a couple of pages that look like the originals.” Cooper’s hand continued its journey north. I fluttered my eyelashes and waved my hand at him. “Is that all? Well, that’s a relief. I thought this would be hard.” “Very funny. But it’s not a big deal. You know someone who can help us.” “Who?” Cooper finally had a fistful of my sheet from the inside,

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and he tugged it hard. I was naked again. “Nigel, your ex.” I inhaled sharply, from both the feeling of Cooper’s hand on my breast and from the gall of his idea. “I don’t think Nigel would do that, even for me.” Cooper brushed his knuckles over my hard peaks. “You could ask him. I got the feeling he’d do just about anything for you.” My head fell back and I supported my weight on my arms. “Well, you’re wrong,” I murmured. Cooper pushed me down until I was flat on my back. “We’ll see. Will you try?” “Yes. Oh, yes.”

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Sixteen C

ooper was right, Nigel agreed to help me. But when I explained what I needed from him, the disappointment in Nigel’s face was acute. Any affection or esteem he had for me vanished at that moment, and God only knew what he thought of me now. I had the distinct impression I’d lost his respect. But I was immediately encouraged when Nigel sat down at his computer and started typing. “You could get in big trouble for this, right?” I asked over his shoulder. Nigel didn’t take his eyes off the monitor. “Right.” “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important,” I added nervously. “I know.” “You see—” Nigel turned and pinned me with a stern look. “I don’t want to know, sugar. And stop looking over my shoulder.” I flushed and wandered away, feeling awkward, like I’d been caught cheating on an exam. Several more minutes passed, and then Nigel turned his printer on.

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“This won’t be an exact match, of course,” Nigel said. “I know, but I’m hoping it’ll—” Nigel shoved his hand in front of my face to shut me up. “Sugar, please.” “You don’t want to know,” I said. “Got it.” So I finished the sentence in my head. I was banking on the fact that although Jackson knew Sherry had stolen from him, maybe he hadn’t figured out which information she’d taken. Nigel presented me with two sheets of paper. A list of recent police department busts, including the particulars, and a list of confiscated evidence. I stared at the papers in awe. “Wow. Nigel, I don’t know how to thank you.” “Don’t mention it. I mean it. Don’t tell anyone.” I shook my head and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Of course I won’t.” Nigel nodded, and there was a strained silence. “I’m worried about you.” “I’m worried about me, too,” I echoed. “So, you and this Cooper guy, you’re an item?” “Yes.” “Well, I hope he takes care of you.” “Thanks, Nigel.” “Be careful. You’re playing with fire here.” The understatement of the year.

I left Nigel’s place and agonized about whether Cooper had arranged the loan with his mysterious friend. I stopped off at the bank and drained my account in preparation for my little rendezvous with Che and Jackson. When I pulled back out onto the street, I spotted the pink Cadillac behind me again.

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My stomach twisted. Nasty men had left a corpse on my doorstep, I owed killers ten thousand dollars, and I drove a car that doubled as a beacon for danger. I might as well have a bumper sticker that said, ‘If You’re a Low-life Felon, Follow Me.’ I ran a shaky hand through my hair and snagged it on a huge knot. I kept one eye on my rearview mirror. The pink Caddy was discreet, hanging back maybe half a block, but I couldn’t shake him. I sped up a bit, and went through a yellow light. He stuck with me, coming closer. The next intersection loomed, and I figured I could make it before the light turned red, but the car in front of me disagreed. His rear brake lights lit up and I slammed on my brakes just in time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in time for the pink Caddy. The Caddy slammed into my rear bumper, and the force of the impact almost sent me through the windshield, but my seatbelt held. I sat there a moment in shock, then twisted around in my seat. The Caddy driver had hopped out of his car and was approaching mine. I jumped out of my seatbelt and frantically locked all the doors. He knocked on my window and my heart leaped into my throat. “Hey,” he said. “Aren’t you coming out to inspect the damage?” In your dreams. “Forget it,” I snapped. “Just go away.” The man was at least fifty, tall and rumpled, with a shock of gray hair. He looked like he’d slept in his suit. I’d never seen him before. His bushy eyebrows drew together and he stared at me. I stared back. I decided he looked too disheveled to be a hired gun. “Lady, I just rammed you from behind. Do you have insurance?”

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“Look, I’m not stupid,” I shouted through the closed window. “I know you’ve been following me. If you don’t stop, I’m calling the police.” Something sparked in his eyes, and he studied me, as though sizing me up. “Christ,” he muttered finally, glancing away. “You sound just like my ex.” “Did Che send you to spy on me?” I demanded. He tilted his head and looked perplexed. “Who the hell is Che?” “Never mind. Who are you?” “I’m just looking for someone. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” “Looking for who?” “It’s kind of a long story.” He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Listen, it would really help if we exchanged insurance information. We’re blocking traffic. I’m pulling over. All I need is a few minutes of your time.” He sauntered back to his car and got in, apparently trusting that I wouldn’t take off. He had a point about us holding up traffic, so I drove across the intersection and parked along the next block. He pulled up behind me. I stayed where I was. On a normal day, I’d have taken a chance on him. He reminded me of somebody’s grandfather. But under the circumstances, I was a bundle of nerves, and not in the mood for any more trouble. The man returned to my window and rubbed his eyes. “Lady, what are you so afraid of? Do I look like I have the energy to stalk someone? Give me a break. I’m already in deep shit. That car belongs to my sister-in-law. Look at it. It’s not a car, it’s a parade float. I’m embarrassed to even sit behind the wheel. I have heartburn from breakfast, and now my hemorrhoids are acting up, on account of I’ve been sitting on my ass for three days.” I hesitated, weighing his words.

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“Okay, well…suit yourself. I’m going in there,” he said, pointing to Chuck’s Brew and Chew, “to get myself a beer. I’ll buy you lunch if you want. It’s the least I can do.” He proceeded to cross the street and make his way toward Chuck’s front door. Something told me this guy was harmless. If he’d wanted to kill me, he already would have. So that meant he wanted something from me. Chuck’s was always crowded at lunchtime. It should be safe enough. The promise of food sealed the deal. I climbed out of the car, glanced at the rear fender, and cringed. The damage should keep Cooper busy for a while. I checked the front fender of the Caddy. It had fared slightly better than the Olds. I walked around to the rear of his car and pulled a notepad and pen out of my tote bag. Then I wrote down the number of his Ohio license plate. I was relieved to see the man seated at the bar. It was preferable to a dark, lonely booth. If I was going to have a conversation with a complete stranger, I wanted to do it where I could see his hands. I hopped onto the stool next to his. “So who are you?” “My name is Wesley.” “Wesley who?” “Wes Wesley. You can cover all the bases if you just call me Wesley.” I thought I had a weird family. “I’m Hannah Hailstone.” He ordered me a diet soda and chicken wings while I studied him. His face was lined with fatigue, and wisps of smoke-colored hair lay plastered across his forehead. “So what are you?” I asked. “An undercover cop?” Wesley smiled. “Gee, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” “You drove all the way from Ohio to follow me around. Should I be flattered?”

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He sipped his beer. “I’m doing a favor for someone.” “Someone in Ohio wants you to follow me?” He eyed me sideways. “What makes you think I’m only following you?” My heart lurched. “Does this have something to do with my father?” “Why, should it?” His evasive answers got on my nerves. “Listen, Wesley, stop yanking my chain. Now what exactly do you want?” “You know, being a PI isn’t like it used to be. Everybody’s in a nasty mood, everybody’s in a hurry. They want instant gratification. There’s no time for pleasantries, just threats and ultimatums.” Wesley patted his suit pockets. “Don’t suppose you have a cigarette?” “No.” What planet was this guy from? It was like he’d stepped out of a time machine, out of the forties. The only thing missing was his fedora. “So you’re a private investigator. Aren’t you a little long in the tooth?” “Now she’s insulting me.” He shook his head. “I could have mentioned that your hair looks like a Brillo™ pad, but I didn’t, did I? If you must know, I recently came out of retirement.” “I’m very happy for you. But I still don’t understand what you want.” “You know, you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your relatives.” More riddles. Was he talking in a secret code? Was I supposed to know what it meant? Maybe this guy had wandered out of an insane asylum, and he’d run out of medication. One thing was certain, the guy was a whack job. My soda arrived and I made a show of slurping it very slowly while I tried to figure out how to leave gracefully. After all, he was paying for lunch.

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He watched me, his mouth curled in a lopsided grin. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I held up my hands. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being crazy. I act crazy most of the time myself.” Wesley chuckled. “Okay, Hannah Hailstone. Here’s the deal. My sister-in-law’s a real piece of work. She sent me up here on what I think is a wild goose chase. So instead of drinking beer on my back deck and playing pool, I’m in Normal, Illinois, pretending I know what the hell I’m doing. Believe me, I don’t want to be here. I think my sister-in-law’s nuttier than a fruitcake. But like I said, you know, she’s family.” This tidbit piqued my interest. “So what kind of goose are you chasing?” “A goose who likes to visit graveyards.” I patiently waited for him to elaborate. The less I said, the more he seemed inclined to talk. “You see, my sister-in-law got a call from a bank. Midwest Bank & Trust, right here in Normal. They wanted to speak to her brother, Mickey Evans. Seems he has an account up here, and he won a contest. Free service charges for a year.” I was having a hard time staying interested, and resisted the urge to push back my cuticles. “That’s nice.” Wesley nodded. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Do you know I’ve never won a dammed thing in my whole life? Not one dammed thing. No lottery, no trip, not even a goddammed tee-shirt. Where was I?” Don’t you mean, who am I, where am I? “Uh, bank, contest.” Wesley dug inside his jacket, produced a wrinkled handkerchief and patted his forehead. “Right. So my sister-inlaw, she calls me up, and she’s freaking out, you know?” I glanced around. I didn’t recognize anyone, nobody I could latch on to, to give me an excuse to leave. Of course, I could

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just walk away, but it would be rude, and I felt rather sorry for the guy. “Yeah, well, if one of my relatives won free service charges, I’d freak out too.” Wesley shook his head in frustration. “No, no, you see Mickey’s pushing up daisies. He’s been dead for thirty-four years.” Now he had my attention. “How can a dead man have an active bank account?” Wesley pointed at me. “That’s exactly what I said. So, I’m up here trying to figure out what’s going on.” I checked my watch. Three o’clock. If Cooper didn’t get the money, I was dog meat. I couldn’t waste time listening to someone else’s problems. I might have to hop on a train out of town. “Look, Wesley, this is all very intriguing, but I’ve got bigger fish to fry. So if you’ll excuse me.…” Wesley shoved his bunched up handkerchief in his side pocket. “My sister-in-law goes to visit her brother’s grave often as she can. They grew up in Grove City, outside of Columbus. Pretty little graveyard. Last few years she’s noticed someone else visiting, too. Could never tell who it was, they always wore a trench coat. They come every year on Mickey’s birthday, September the twentieth. This year, my sister-in-law finally uses the brains God gave her, and writes down the license plate of the car.” Wesley paused as the bartender brought me my chicken wings. “The plates belong to a black Honda.” I waited a few beats. “A black Honda?” Wesley nodded. “The one parked in the driveway outside of the house I’ve been watching. Whose car is it?” He’d been watching my mother’s house? Tension poked me in the ribs. “It belongs to my mother.” As far as I knew, my mother didn’t know anyone in Ohio. I wracked by brain. She didn’t travel a lot. She’d gone on a few trips to visit friends, or shopping excursions to Chicago.

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Wesley watched me. “Any of this mean anything to you?” “No. I don’t live at home anymore. Have you tried talking to her?” “She slammed the door in my face. Thought I was trying to sell her something and booted me off the property. Seeing as I’m not real keen on going home with no answers, figured I’d sit tight and just stake out the place. You see, I wasn’t sure who owned the car. Saw a young man driving it one day. Your boyfriend?” Not that it’s any of your business. “He’s a mechanic. He fixed it for her.” Wesley reached into his shirt breast pocket, drew out a business card, along with a twenty-dollar bill, and placed them in front of me. “Listen, I wrote the name of the motel I’m staying at on the back of my card. You can reach me at that number for a few more days. After that, you can call me at home, collect. If you learn anything helpful, I’d appreciate it if you contacted me. I’m getting real sore sitting in the car all day.” I looked at the card and nodded. We exchanged insurance information, and then he drained his beer and slid off the barstool. “Enjoy your wings.” I tried, but my stomach had shriveled up. Just exactly what I needed. Another mystery.

Two hours later I still hadn’t heard from Cooper, and the steady apprehension humming in my gut had now graduated to full-blown fear. I had no choice but to drag out my vacuum cleaner and fill a bucket with hot, sudsy water. It was either that or slit my wrists. I scrubbed all the floors of my apartment, and paid particular attention to the area at the entrance, where we’d discovered the

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corpse. I snapped on two pairs of rubber gloves and scrubbed the carpet with a vengeance. Cooper got the money, but Che and Jackson intercepted him and killed him for it. Cooper decided I wasn’t worth all the aggravation, didn’t bother getting the money, and skipped town. Someone knocked on my door. When I peeked through the peephole and saw Cooper standing there, I threw the door open and wrapped my arms around him. “Where have you been?” I wailed, trying not to sound desperate, even though I was. Cooper stepped inside and planted a big, sloppy kiss on my mouth. “Why do you have rubber gloves on?” “Don’t change the subject. Did you get the money?” “No ‘hi honey, how was your day?’” “Cooper, this is my life we’re talking about.” “Sorry.” Cooper closed the door. “Everything’s cool.” “Where is it?” “Hannah, I can’t just waltz around with seven grand in my pocket. The guy’s having it delivered here tomorrow.” “Tomorrow when?” “In the morning. Stop worrying.” “I’m not worrying.” I couldn’t even ask him about the two thousand he’d promised me. It broke my guilty heart that he was handing it over to save my skin. “Liar. Why does your car look like you had an accident?” I pulled off the gloves. “Because I had an accident.” He heaved a sigh, led me to the couch and hauled me onto his lap. “Of course you did. Are you okay?” “Minor whiplash. I’m fine.” “Hannah, every time you leave the house, I get the jitters.” He frowned. “What happened?” I filled Cooper in on my interlude with Wesley.

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He blinked at me, incredulous. “That’s totally bizarre.” “I know.” “Are you going to talk to your mother?” “I could try, but I know what will happen. She’ll hedge and won’t give me any straight answers. My father sure didn’t. Did I tell you he took off and didn’t tell anyone where he was going?” “Does he do that a lot?” “According to my mother it’s not the first time. She thinks he’s in Vegas, gambling. You know, I think my real parents were beamed up to the moon and replaced by aliens. I’m nothing like either of them.” “Like in Invasion of the Body Snatchers?” “Exactly like that.” “How did it go with Lover Boy?” I reached for my bag and produced the documents. “Pretty good match, huh?” Cooper took them and examined them carefully. “Not bad. So what did you have to do to get these?” Relief made me giddy. “I promised to sleep with him again, for old time’s sake. I’m meeting him later tonight.” Cooper’s face fell. “Guess I asked for that.” The crushing hurt in his eyes stunned me. No one had ever looked at me that way. I cupped his jaw and made him look at me. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t funny at all.” Cooper tossed the papers on the coffee table and pulled me closer. “Apology accepted.” “I would never do that. You know that, don’t you?” He stared at me and nodded. “Yeah.” I kissed him with the same tenderness that throbbed in my heart. It was strange and exciting, all at the same time. We held each other, our foreheads touching.

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“You scare me,” I said. “Right back at ya. Sometimes it’s like I have the flu, you know? I get feverish thinking about you, and my stomach gets queasy.” I made a face. “Hopefully it’s minus the throwing up part.” Cooper grinned. “I don’t have it that bad yet, but give me time.” “That’s a sweet thing to say,” I murmured. He played with my split ends. “How’s your hair feeling today?” “Sorta dry and frizzy. Why?” “I was wondering if these bogus documents will fool them, and I thought you might have a premonition.” “I don’t do premonitions, I just do bad hair. And every day since I met you, my hair’s been a mess.” “Thanks, that makes me feel much better.” I fingered his shirt collar. “You know, you’re being awfully understanding about handing over these documents. I mean, you intended to use them to get your bike back, didn’t you?” Cooper shrugged and avoided my eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll figure something else out. If we don’t give them back, whether or not I find my bike won’t matter.” “What a strange week. When I left law school, I promised myself I’d enjoy an uncomplicated life, and look at me.” “I have been looking at you. You know what I see? I see a happy woman.” I took his hand. “Well, that’s because of you.” “That’s nice to hear, but there’s more to it than that.” “There is?” Cooper nodded. “There’s a fire in you whenever you talk about the list, or Jackson, or finding my bike. You love this stuff.” “Well, I admit it’s been an adventure, but it’s temporary. Someday soon it’ll be back to the shop.”

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“But you don’t even like working there.” I pulled my hand away and rubbed at the spot of dirt I noticed on my jeans. “That doesn’t matter. It’s what I do.” “How can it not matter? Haven’t you ever thought of trying something else?” “No. My life is fine. It’s simple, uncomplicated, although I’d prefer to have more good hair days. Thanks for your concern, but the only reason I’m involved in this is for my father and you.” “Well, thank you. I appreciate your sacrifice. But what are you so afraid of?” “Afraid of?” “Why does the idea of changing jobs and finding something that really suits you scare you so much? You’re ballsy enough to do it, so why don’t you?” I shifted uncomfortably in his lap. I couldn’t explain why, but change scared me. Maybe because I couldn’t control it. I’d always preferred to deal with the devil I knew. “Because I already have my hands full with the job I have now. When I got out of school I was kind of burned out, you know? This is all I can handle.” “You could handle a lot more if you concentrated on just your life, instead of everyone else’s.” Cooper met my glare. “Tell me to shut up if you don’t like what I’m saying, I know it’s none of my business.” “No, it isn’t.” “But don’t try to tell me you don’t get a buzz out of this mystery shit, because I won’t believe you. You’re a natural at detective work. If you don’t want to be a lawyer, fine. But you’re wasting your talents selling vitamins.” “Okay, I’ll admit I get a buzz out of it. So what? My life may be monotonous, but at least I know what to expect. I have a regular pay check and no surprises. I like things the way they are.”

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Cooper looked inexplicably disappointed, and my brief bout of optimism evaporated. I raked my fingers through my hair nervously, and ended up with a fistful of it. Terrific. Now my hair was coming out in clumps.

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Seventeen B

y eleven forty-five the next morning, the sun was a bright hole in a thick layer of white sky. The wind was cold, and I shivered in my fleece jacket as I paced at the edge of the WalMart parking lot, waiting for Che, or Jackson, or both. Cooper leaned casually against the car with our .22 revolver tucked under his jacket. My hair was a mass of dry knots, but at least I hadn’t gone bald overnight. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible was about to happen. As arranged, Cooper’s ‘friend’ had dropped off a large brown envelope at my door that morning. I’d never seen so much money all at once. I cursed Sherry again for dumping all of this on us, and hoped that wherever she was now, her money was all gone, her fake nails had fallen off, and her breast implants had sprung a leak. Cooper put his foot out to stop me from pacing. “You okay?” I couldn’t describe what was wrong, so I dismissed it. “Sure, I’m fine.”

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“You don’t have to do that for me.” “Do what?” “Pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t. It’s me. You can talk to me, don’t you know that?” Sure I knew it. It was one of the reasons I’d had very little sleep the past few nights. I was morphing from an independent, single woman to the clinging, needy half of a couple. When I wasn’t within touching distance of Cooper I was miserable. The sensation was new to me and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I didn’t answer. Cooper pulled me to him and I buried my face in his chest. He held me and stroked my hair. “Cooper, do you think my father’s a criminal?” I murmured. “No.” “How do you know?” Cooper lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger and looked me right in the eye. “Because I know you, and I think your father has a big heart, just like you.” “How?” I demanded, my voice cracking. “You don’t even really know me all that well. For all you know, I could be the fourth generation of a long line of criminals, the bad seed of a crime family. I mean let’s face it, my family is nutty. If you think my mother’s bad, you should meet my Aunt Blossom.” “You watch too many movies,” Cooper replied dryly. “I’ll tell you what I know. You’re beautiful, and not just on the outside. You’re caring, and strong, and when I’m not with you I think about you all the time, and I miss you like crazy.” My eyes began to water. “I think about you all the time, too. When you disappeared, you have no idea the things that went through my head. The thought of never seeing you again, I couldn’t bear it, Cooper. I couldn’t bear it.” He kissed me tenderly, and then held me tighter. “You’re going to say ‘no’ but I’ll ask anyway. Will you let me hand over the money to Che?”

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I shook my head. “No.” His breath warmed the top of my scalp. “Man, you’re one tough chick, aren’t you?” He sighed. “Fine, have it your way, but I’m going to be right behind you.” Che and Jackson might be criminals, but they were punctual. At twelve o’clock sharp, a cream-colored Cutlass Supreme with a dark red vinyl top pulled up, and Che and Jackson climbed out. Red and Stu, their guard dogs, jumped out of the back, and stood at the ready. “Good afternoon, Hannah,” Che greeted me with his usual evil charm. He glanced over my shoulder. “May I presume you found your missing Cooper?” I nodded, willing the pulse in my neck to slow down before it burst. Jackson grunted at me, and then glared at Cooper. “Took you long enough to give me back what’s mine.” I stiffened. If Cooper made any accusations, or made Jackson mad, there was no telling what would happen. But Cooper was the essence of cool. His expression was smug. He gave Jackson a lazy show of teeth and said nothing, just held up his left arm, cast and all, and saluted. I was shocked at Cooper’s restraint, but he was full of surprises. I held up the envelope. “Here it is, the money and the documents, it’s all there.” Che took the envelope from me, walked back to the Cutlass with Jackson, and together they spread the contents of the envelope on the hood of the car and checked it over. I held my breath and prayed the stuff Nigel gave us would pass the inspection. A few minutes later, obviously satisfied, Jackson and Stu got back into the car. Che approached me with a smile. “Everything seems to be in order, Hannah, as you promised. Well done.” He gave me a small brown package. “My usual

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courier is giving me a major headache, and I need to be sure this reaches the proper recipient. Someone will pick it up at your place tomorrow at five o’clock sharp.” My knees shook. “What?” “Have you forgotten so soon that you owe me a favor? I’m crushed.” Although I had my back to Cooper, I could feel the burning heat of his stare. “If I do this, we’ll be square?” “Of course, Hannah,” Che assured me as he backed toward the car. “We’ll be square.” Che climbed into the Cutlass and it disappeared in a puff of exhaust, the fumes curling around us. Cooper cleared his throat, and I turned to face him. He didn’t look impressed. “Favor?” My smile was forced. “Didn’t I mention that?” “No.” “Oh. Well, because Che didn’t get his money right away, or the documents, he was a little ticked, so he told me I—” “Owed him a favor, I got that part.” He exhaled sharply. “What’s in the package?” “It’s sealed.” I shook it. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s money.” “Nice. Blood money, or drug money.” “Cooper, stop it. You’re freaking me out.” “I’m freaking you out?” I shivered. “Do you think this is my fault? This isn’t my fault.” “I didn’t say it was your fault.” “Well you’re acting like it is.” “No I’m not.” I wheeled around, marched away from him and got back into the car.

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Cooper slid behind the wheel with a grunt and frowned. “It’s just I hoped we’d be in the clear.” “We are in the clear. Jackson’s got his documents back. All we need to do now is find your bike, and it’s over.” I watched him. “You know, I don’t get why you didn’t ask Jackson about your Harley.” Cooper shrugged. “He’s not exactly going to tell me where it is, is he?” “Well no, but—” “Just let me worry about that, Hannah, okay?” He started the car. “I’ll drop you off at your place. I got stuff to do. Grease is going to fire my ass if I don’t start putting in a few more hours.” Something was up, I decided as Cooper drove me back home. He was a lousy liar.

My mother’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so when I let myself into the house I gave a small squeal of fright when I saw someone lying on the couch. It was two someones: Joel, lying on top of Tiffany. They were fully clothed at least, but Joel’s hair stood straight up, no doubt from Tiffany running her fingers through it, and they were both breathing heavily. “I take it this means you two have made up?” There was a fluster of movement, a straightening of clothing, and a smoothing of hair. “Hi Hannah, um, Joel came over to talk,” Tiffany stammered. Tiffany’s cheeks were tomato red and she had lipstick on her cheek. So did Joel.

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I smirked. “Kinda hard for him to talk with his lips plastered to yours.” Joel grinned. “Hey, Boss. You know, you’re really funny sometimes.” “So what’s the deal? Shouldn’t you guys be in school?” They exchanged guilty glances, and I held up my hand before Joel could speak. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” I wasn’t a parent to either of them, so it wasn’t my place to give them a lecture about the advantages of an education and the importance of safe sex. Not to mention the fact that I’d spent the whole night doing the horizontal tango with Cooper, and was hardly in a position to preach to anyone. “Where’s my mother?” “She left about an hour ago,” Tiffany replied. “Something about a studio?” My mother sometimes worked at a friend’s studio in town, and probably wouldn’t be back for a while. My questions about Wesley would have to wait. As exciting as it was to play Nancy Drew, it was time to open up the shop again. I still had a business to run. Before I shooed Joel and Tiffany out the door I gave them the good news about opening on Saturday, which made Tiffany’s newly restored happiness complete. Then I collected King Arthur and drove home, listening to him howl and complain the whole way. I spent the afternoon readying the shop for business on the weekend. I scrubbed the floor to get rid of the stench of ‘Stu the Crowbar’, topped up all the shelves and cleaned out the refrigerated case. I’d have to make a trip to the wholesalers early next week, but we had enough supplies to last the weekend. I also did three loads of laundry to keep my mind off my mother’s secrets and my father’s whereabouts. King Arthur was in a foul mood. He probably preferred my mother’s place to mine, and was mad I’d dragged him out

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of there. He kept his back to me while I cooked pasta and heated a jar of spaghetti sauce. I made enough for two in the hopes that Cooper would show, but he didn’t. It was no big deal that he didn’t show. Just because we were into each other and had amazing sex together didn’t mean he had to come over every night. I didn’t need him to define my existence. We weren’t even going out, were we? I mean, he hadn’t said anything. No promises had been made. I was an independent woman of the new millennium. Tough, capable, carefree. I opened up my inventory binder and pored through it, to make sure everything was in order. Then I studied the accounts. When I had run out of things to do, I gave in to the itchiness all over my scalp, and scratched my head for dear life. I looked in the mirror and parted my hair. My scalp was red, raw and burning. I must be allergic to the shampoo, or the conditioner. This was very bad. Something was wrong. Cooper hadn’t called. He was either dumping me, or he was in trouble. Either way, I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for the blow to come.

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Eighteen I

pulled on my leather jacket and drove to Tyler’s garage, cursing myself that I still had no idea where Cooper lived. We’d spent so much time getting into trouble and into each other’s pants, we hadn’t bothered with the usual rituals, such as going out to dinner or hanging out at our apartments. Were we even dating? Not exactly. So what were we? I had no idea. The conversation in my head did nothing for my confidence as I walked into Tyler’s garage. A tall, beanpole of a man with filthy hands and a bemused expression approached me. “Can I help you?” “Are you Grease?” “Yep.” “I’m Hannah. I’m looking for Cooper.” Wasn’t I always looking for him? Did he ever spend any time looking for me? “He’s not here,” Grease said. “Of course he isn’t,” I mumbled. “Huh?”

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“Look, do you have any idea where he might be? It’s important.” “No idea. He took off around eight o’clock.” “To go where?” Grease shook his head and looked uneasy. “I don’t really know.…” “Did he tell you not to tell me? ‘Cause if he did, I’m going to kick his ass,” I announced as my patience vanished. “Then I’m going to kick yours.” Grease’s mouth twitched and he looked me up and down, not in a leering way, more like inspecting a new car. “He said you were special. No wonder he’s got it so bad.” Cooper told his boss I was special? “Got what so bad?” “You know, he really digs you.” “Grease, that’s gratifying to know, but Cooper has a nasty habit of getting into trouble. He has very bad luck. I need to find him.” Grease rubbed his chin. “He left with a guy.” “What guy?” “Same guy as last night.” Talking to Grease was like trying to pull your teeth out one by one. “But who is this guy? I mean, how come he has wads of cash to loan to people?” “’Cause that’s what he does. He’s a loan shark.” My stomach knotted. Grease shrugged. “Look, I didn’t ask, it’s none of my business, you know? But this guy’s wanted to buy Cooper’s hog ever since he laid eyes on it. Have to admit, I never thought Cooper’d let it go. That mean machine is everything to him.” I could feel the blood slowly drain from my face. “Are you saying Cooper sold his bike? To a loan shark?” “Looks that way.”

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I let the shocking truth sink in. That was why the guy had given us the money. It was a deposit for the bike. A bike that was missing. Supposedly missing. My heart thudded in my chest. “Do you have any idea where they went?” “Heard them talk about Big Dog’s place.” “Translation?” “Big Dog’s is a liquidation company. Repos, you know.” Yes, I did. As part of my job with the private investigator I used to help repo men track down people whose banks had called in their unpaid loans. I’d serve the repossession papers, and then the repo men would step in. That’s when things sometimes got ugly, but I always left before that happened. I got an address for Big Dog’s, and thanked Grease for his help. I parked across the street from the repo company and staked out the area. The offices of McIntyre’s Liquidation were dark, but there was a large warehouse next to the office. They had to be in there. After having no luck with the front and back doors, I wished I’d brought Manny along to help me break in, because doors were never unlocked for me like they were for Nancy. I noticed a grimy window off to the side. I pushed on it two or three times, until finally it budged a little. I tugged as hard as I could and managed to raise it up high enough for me to squeeze through. I was in a bathroom. It was worse than the bathrooms in gas stations, which were pretty bad. The sink and toilet had never seen detergent. The toilet had no seat. A guy’s bathroom. I eased the door open and listened. I could hear talking, but it sounded far away. I tiptoed toward the voices, staying close to the wall. There were lots of things to hide behind. This was

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where Big Dog kept the bank’s repossessed inventory. There were cars, fridges, dishwashers and electronic sound systems of every size and make. The evidence of too much spending and not enough cash. There, in the center, among several fancy-looking foreign cars, was an incredible looking Harley. It was beautiful. Sleek, black and gold, it glowed under the florescent lights like treasure. I didn’t know much about motorcycles, but this was a truly eye-popping machine. Cooper’s motorcycle. What the heck was it doing here? When had Cooper recovered it? The only thing I knew was I’d made a foolish deal with Jackson and Che to provide the ten thousand dollars for their poker game. So Cooper had given up his precious Harley, the only thing of value he had, to buy me out of trouble. The enormity of his sacrifice stunned me, and I forgot I was in hiding. I leaned too heavily on a stack of boxes, and watched horrified, as an assorted selection of VCRs and DVD players toppled to the ground with a resounding crash. I heard ominous clicking sounds and saw the glint of metal shining off several guns. All aimed at me. “Hold on,” Cooper yelled, “it’s okay, I know her.” I smiled nervously and waved to the group. “That’s right. He knows me.” I stepped out of the pile of boxes as curt introductions were given. Big Dog was as I’d pictured him: large and muscular, with jowls that shook when he turned his head. Two men flanked him, his colleagues. They were smaller, and looked like twins. They had dark hair and sour expressions. They stood in identical positions, with their hands crossed in front of them, as though they were guarding the pyramids. Cooper pointed to a hairy beast wearing a bandana and a

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sleeveless muscle shirt. Macy, the loan shark. He had a flunky too, a black man with a mustache who didn’t look too happy to see me. In fact, none of them looked exceptionally pleased. Including Cooper. “What are you doing here?” Cooper whispered between his teeth after he excused himself from the group and dragged me by the arm off to the side. “Is it possible for you to just be normal for one day?” I had no idea what that meant. I made a mental note to find out later. His insensitive comment stung, but I refused to back down. “Cooper, I know what you’re doing but I can’t let you. You can’t sell your bike to Macy. You love that bike.” Cooper gave me an incredulous look. “Did I ask you for your opinion? I don’t think I did. Now go home.” He was angry. I’d never seen him so angry. The fact that he wasn’t impressed by my obvious concern over the loss of his cherished bike hurt me deeply. I’d driven all the way over here to help, and he didn’t care. Worse, by the way he glared at me, I realized he believed I’d crossed the line. That all this was none of my business, and I had no right to interfere. He hadn’t said it, but I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t his girlfriend, I wasn’t his lover, he’d only stated that he knew me. Not a promising beginning for a relationship. I could have continued arguing, but the way Cooper looked at me turned my thoughts into a jumbled mess. All my arguments dried up at the back of my throat, and I wasn’t about to humiliate myself in front of a bunch of rough, macho misfits. If Cooper could deal with these guys, could sell something so important to him, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to give me up, either. “I made a mistake,” I whispered to him, trying to stop my voice from shaking. “I’m going.” Cooper’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with what

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looked like regret, but I didn’t hang around to find out. I turned with as much dignity as I could muster and strutted to the door. My hand was a few inches from the doorknob when the door burst open. In the doorway stood Jackson and his entourage, including the illustrious Miss Bun. If Jackson was surprised to see me gaping at him, he didn’t show it. He and his two sidekicks, Stu and Burly, charged the group, waving their guns, and Miss Bun grabbed me. “Okay, everybody. Hands where I can see ‘em,” Jackson yelled. Hesitantly, Big Dog and Macy relinquished their weapons, and their men followed suit. Cooper held his hands up, and Jackson’s men frisked the group with a precision any police force in the country would envy. They found Cooper’s .22 tucked into the back of his jeans and grabbed it, to my profound disappointment. I’d never owned a gun, yet I was sort of getting attached to that one. “Hey,” Macy growled with a murderous expression, “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re interrupting a business transaction.” “Let me guess, you’re buying a Harley,” Jackson sneered. “Well, that’s fine. Except you should have invited me along. I’m Norman Jackson, and the bike belongs to me.” Cooper flew at him as if shot from a cannon. Big Dog and his colleague managed to hold him back before Jackson, clearly startled, had a chance to react. “You’re a liar! It’s my bike, you bastard,” Cooper hissed as he fought off Big Dog’s hold. “You stole it from me.” The casual act I’d seen earlier that day vanished, and Cooper’s repressed fury about losing his bike to Jackson now erupted with full force. “Easy, Coop, take it easy,” Big Dog said. “Listen, Jackson, I repo’d this bike a few days ago. I have the paperwork to prove it. So why don’t you get your ass out of here, huh?”

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“If you repossessed this piece of junk, then how come you’re selling it?” Jackson demanded. “It’s for sale,” Big Dog said simply. “It belongs to the bank, now. This gentleman,” he nodded to Macy, “has made an offer. Now I suggest you leave, before I call the cops.” Jackson grinned. “You do that. I’ll wait while you make the call.” “That’s right,” Cooper spat out, “you’re a dirty ex-cop, and you’re still working with your dirty buddies at the precinct. I knew they wouldn’t even bother making a report about the bike that you ripped off.” “Makes it a little more convenient to operate a business in this city, if you know what I mean,” Jackson bragged. “I know exactly what you mean,” Cooper continued. “I had quite a conversation with some Federal agents the other night. They told me all about your business. Why don’t I give them a call? They’re looking for you. There’s nothing I’d like better than to hand them your ass on a silver platter.” A surge of pride mixed with alarm rushed through me. I didn’t know whether to smack Cooper in the chops for blatantly daring goons who could easily fill him with holes, or kiss him for defending something he cared about. Jackson turned purple. “Why, you—” “Why don’t you lose the gun, Jackson, and make this a fair fight?” Cooper challenged. “Your flunkies are pretty good when it’s three against one. Let’s see if they’re tough enough to handle themselves in a real man’s dust-up.” Cooper’s provocation worked. Jackson determinedly handed his gun to Stu with a gleam in his eye, then took off his jacket. He snickered at Stu and Burly, who snickered back. Being an ex-cop Jackson probably wouldn’t tolerate the accusation that he couldn’t handle himself. He lunged at Cooper and his men jumped in, but were stopped by Macy and Big Dog. Soon there was a free-for-all on the cement floor.

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I wasn’t about to stand around watching. Miss Bun still had me in a tight grip. “Get your hands off me, bitch.” She opened her mouth and I twisted in her hold, pushed her arms down and flipped her onto the floor. She pushed herself up slowly, and gazed at me with malicious glee. “Well, I wouldn’t have guessed,” Miss Bun said. “You practice Martial Arts. This’ll be fun.” She came at me with a high kick that landed in my neck. I dropped like a stone, dazed. So the Bun knew a few moves. Go figure. I’d never fought an equal before, only my classmates during our drills. My other fighting partners had been no match for the Karate techniques I knew, and the fights didn’t usually last long. Adrenalin surged through me and I pushed myself to my feet. I straightened my back, dropped my shoulders, and nodded. “Bring it on.” This time I was ready for her. She executed a fancy double kick to show off her prowess, but I grabbed her foot on the second strike and sent her flying on her ass. “You’re right, this is fun,” I said, enjoying the look of surprise on her face. Now the Bun was mad. She threw me a lethal set of side kicks, two of which I managed to dodge. The third landed on my stomach, pushing all of the breath out of my body at once. My throat constricted and I landed, writhing, on the floor. I wheezed in what little air I could. I heard blood rushing in my head, could see black spots in front of me. I thought I heard Cooper scream my name. I kept my mind calm, and several long seconds later my lungs began to expand again. Miss Bun leaped over me, but I rolled out of the way. By the time she landed and twisted around I was standing again.

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I delivered three punishing blows to her chest with both forearms, finishing her off with a kick to her left thigh. She staggered back, but regained her balance and charged me, sending us both flying into a stack of empty boxes. I was dimly aware that the fighting in the center of the garage had paused temporarily, and we had a bit of an audience. I paid for my lack of focus. I took one on the chin, an upper cut that hurt like hell. This woman wanted a street fight, but I wasn’t going to fall for it. I was angry, but instead of allowing the anger to take control, I used it, I let it work for me, remembering what I’d been taught. I breathed deeply, took hold of my strength and stood firm, gripping the floor with my feet and tensing my abdominal muscles. I recited the essentials in my head. Go in, counter, release. Hands and feet are arrows. Eyes fierce, direct your chi. I blocked the next punch, then planted my body into position and flew at her with an axe kick, striking her in the chest with my heel. I allowed the energy to flow through me, using the forces of gravity and momentum to increase my impact. She toppled, but recovered nicely by executing a back flip anyone would kill for. I contained my mind, focusing only on my body, my balance, my follow-through. She managed some pretty decent kicks, but I blocked most of them, and when she came at me from behind and held me in a headlock, I grabbed her with both arms and swung my body down, sending her crashing into the concrete. Her head hit the floor with a crack, and her eyes fluttered shut. Panting, I stood over her and wiped the blood from my mouth. I made sure she was still breathing, then looked up to where Cooper and the other men were still wrestling on the floor.

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Big Dog lay in a heap beside a car. Macy was having a hard time with Stu draped on his back, pounding him senseless. It looked like the good guys weren’t doing so well. Cooper ducked Jackson’s punch and rammed him in the chest with a metal bar. Jackson fell back, temporarily stunned. “Come on, we’re leaving,” Cooper rasped as he grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him. “The door’s that way,” I told him. “Get on,” he barked as he threw me a helmet, leapt onto his bike and started the engine. I held on to Cooper as the motor roared to life. We raced toward the narrow front door, with Jackson on our heels. I held my breath as we exploded through the doorway. Another coat of paint and we wouldn’t have made it. There was only the wind blasting my face and the feel of Cooper’s heart racing beneath my hands. “Yeeeee-haaaaa!” Cooper screamed to the sky as we flew up the dark street like a hurricane.

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Nineteen W

e were free, like eagles soaring along the cliffs of the highest mountains, and I never wanted to come down again. The streets of Normal flashed past us, the cool air whipped our faces, and the only things that mattered were the purring of the engine and our bodies moving with it, as one. We drove without stopping. I sensed that Cooper needed to keep going, as though he dreaded what would happen when our ride ended. When he pulled onto the highway, I didn’t say anything. I buried my head in his back and held him tightly. I didn’t know what had happened back there. Didn’t know if the bike he loved so much still belonged to him. If it didn’t, this would be the last time he’d ever ride it. The rush gradually subsided and reality set in. I shivered from the constant stream of chilly wind, and Cooper slowed to a stop on the shoulder, near an exit. He hung his head, but didn’t get off the bike. “Do you want to keep going?” I asked the back of his head over the purr of the idling motor and the cars passing us.

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Cooper stiffened. “Would you come with me if I did?” “Yes.” I’d said it before thinking. Thinking would only complicate matters. Cooper’s chest heaved, and his heart beat a wild rhythm inside his body, like a trapped bird. “I love you, Hannah.” I held my breath. I didn’t know what to do. I looked up at the sky, and the stars seemed so close, I could almost touch them. The dark seemed richer, like black velvet. Joy bubbled up in my throat, and somewhere inside of me a flame burst higher, and turned into a raging fire. “I love you too, Cooper.” I could almost feel him grin in the darkness. He bent his head, pulled my hand off his jacket and kissed it. Then he shifted into gear with his left foot, twisted his right hand forward on the throttle and the engine growled like a wild animal let out to play. I threw my head back and laughed as he punched the Harley onto the highway again. We drove for miles, heading west. I didn’t ask where we going. I didn’t care, and I knew Cooper didn’t either. Finally Cooper geared down and turned his head so I could hear him. “My eyes are closing, we’d better stop.” We turned onto a dirt road that led to an empty cornfield. Some of the corn appeared harvested, but most of the field still boasted tall, dried stalks that whispered to us as we got off the bike. Cooper adjusted the kickstand and I hung the helmet on the handle bar. Cooper took my hand and we headed for a large knotted tree standing by an ancient-looking fence. He sank to the ground and pulled me down on top of him. I giggled. “Where are we?” Cooper smiled. “Do you care?” “No.” He touched my chin gently. “She hurt you.”

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I wasn’t feeling any pain, not at the moment. “It’s just a scratch.” He kissed my chin, my eyelids, then covered my mouth with his, and kissed me long and slow, until I ached for him. “You said you knew karate,” he said breathlessly when he pulled away again. “I think you were being modest.” I gave him a shy grin. “I have a black belt.” Cooper shook his head and stared. “Wow.” “Did Jackson hurt you?” “I managed to fend him off with that metal pipe. He’s out of shape. Can’t fight worth shit, since his flunkies usually do it for him.” We lay there in dreamy silence, listening to the crickets. “Anything else I should know about you?” Cooper asked after a few moments. I thought about it. “I’ve never loved anyone before. It’s freaky.” “Yeah.” I clamped my arm around his waist. “What did you mean when you asked if I could be normal for one day?” Cooper sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want you to be anybody but who you are.” “But I am normal.” “Yeah, right. You fight like a guy in a Jackie Chan movie, make deals with killers at the drop of a hat and get into so much trouble I can’t even keep up with you.” “Well, if you don’t think I’m normal, that means you think I’m abnormal, and that’s not very nice,” I said, pouting. Cooper stroked my face with his fingers. “I just told you I love you. That’s nice, isn’t it?” I smiled and snuggled closer. “Very nice. Cooper, is that still your bike?” He tensed. “Not any more. Macy bought it for twentyfive grand.”

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I could feel my throat closing over. “Oh, Cooper, I can’t let you do that for me. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t made that stupid deal—” “It’s my decision, Hannah. Mine alone. Giving up the bike is my way of showing you how much I love you. So when you say you won’t let me do it, it’s like...rejection.” “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, squeezing him tighter. “No one’s ever cared enough to do something like that for me.” We lay silently for several minutes, lost in our own thoughts, until Cooper spoke again. “I’ll get another bike. With the money Macy gives me, I’ll get something cheaper and upgrade it.” “How did you find out that Big Dog had your bike?” “Find out? I planned it that way.” I squinted at him. “What do you mean?” “I couldn’t go to the cops, so I called Big Dog,” Cooper said. “I do some work for him. Repo guys are better at finding things than cops, anyway, especially cars. He found it stowed at a used car parts place his cousin owns. Apparently Jackson moved it from his stolen car operation a few hours before we peeked in his window, and took it to Big Dog’s cousin’s place, saying he bought it as a gift for his girlfriend and needed to hide it.” “But how did the bank get involved? Were you behind on your payments?” “No. Big Dog just said that to get rid of Jackson.” “So when we needed money fast, you called Macy to let him know your bike was for sale, and he gave you a deposit of seven grand,” I concluded. “Pretty much.” “But Cooper—” Cooper rolled on top of me and pressed his hips into mine. “You know something? You talk too much.”

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I giggled again as his breath tickled my neck. “You ever do it under the stars?” “No. Have you?” “Yeah, it’s great.” I slapped him playfully in the chest. “You’re not supposed to admit it.” “You want me to lie?” “Well, no.” “I’ve never been in love before,” Cooper said. “You’re the first. How’s that?” I pulled him closer. “Better.” We didn’t feel the cold as we fumbled with each other’s clothing, baring just enough skin so we could caress the heat that flared between us. I wiggled until I could open my legs wider, burning for Cooper’s touch there. When he finally plunged his fingers into the wetness, I was panting and writhing with desire. He played me with his hands and I stroked his rigid flesh, until we were both poised on the brink of ecstasy. Through a haze of desire, I watched Cooper watching me as he shoved his hand into his jeans pocket, tore open a condom package and snapped it on. He lifted my hips and pressed my thighs open and back, and I threw my arms over my head. He caught my hands in his and twined his fingers around mine. His eyes shone with emotion and he smiled as he entered me, filling me with such love I could barely breathe. I knew I would never feel alone again. We were one, and we moved together, moaning and writhing, climbing higher and higher. I dug my fingers into Cooper’s back and saw the stars twinkling down on me, shining like diamonds. Suddenly the diamonds burst, and all around me stardust glittered, bright and blinding. My hips convulsed against his as I splayed my hands across his back to keep him close to me.

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“Hannah.” He said my name like a prayer, reverently, as he rocked me gently, like a boat on an eternal tide. He brushed my hair from my face and kissed my forehead, my cheek, my chin. When our breathing steadied, Cooper rearranged my clothing first, then his. He gathered me in his arms, wrapped his legs around mine, and we lay against the ancient tree trunk, listening to our hearts beating.

Sleep lifted like morning mist on a lake, and my eyes fluttered open. I lay tangled up in Cooper’s arms and legs, and when I tried to move, my stiff body wouldn’t cooperate. It was cold; I could see my breath. Cooper was still asleep, because I could hear his deep, even breathing. But I had the sensation that somebody was watching me. I twisted around and screamed. Cooper sat bolt upright, both fists swinging. “What?” Frozen with fear, I pointed straight ahead. “Look!” Cooper stared at it, his eyes still glazed from sleep. “It’s a cow.” A large, angular, black and white cow grazed less than ten feet away, its dark brown eyes studying us as it chewed the grass rhythmically. I clung to Cooper and whispered, “I’m afraid of cows.” The cow let out a long, low moo, and I jumped into Cooper’s lap, burying my head in his neck. When Cooper’s shoulders began to shake, I looked up at him in confusion, then anger. “You think this is funny,” I said indignantly. Cooper couldn’t speak. I don’t think he was even breathing. He was doubled over, slamming his good fist into the ground. Finally, wheezing and panting, he took several deep breaths to

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calm himself. “Damn, it hurts to laugh. You...you...I don’t believe it,” Cooper sputtered, on the verge of another laugh attack. “I don’t see what’s so funny.” I kept one eye on the huge beast in front of me. I could hear it munching with what I’m sure were big teeth. “Lots of people are afraid of cows.” “Lots of people are afraid of killers and guns. But you, you’re afraid of cows,” Cooper squealed, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. I glowered at him and crossed my arms. “Oh, Hannah, I swear,” he said finally, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, “You’re the best.” “If you’re finished,” I said stiffly, “could you do me a favor? I need to pee, and I’m not doing it with this animal on the loose. Watch him for me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Cooper chuckled. “First of all, he’s a she. And I don’t think she’s interested in what you’re doing, but I’ll do my best to make sure she doesn’t hunt you down.” Even though my body was thoroughly contented from Cooper’s touch, after spending all night outside I was cold, hungry and my jaw still ached from my altercation with Miss Bun. I finished my business and made my way back to where Cooper stood. I watched the cow with suspicion as I tried to tidy my hair. Cooper reached out and mussed it with his hand. “Stop fussing with your hair. I like it like that, wild and sexy, pink and frizzy ‘cause you’ve been rolling around in the grass with me. “ “Fine. Then everyone will know what we’ve been doing.” I caught the helmet Cooper tossed at me. “I can’t wait to get into my bathtub, to soak this chill from my bones.” “Listen, I was thinking we could take the bus north to Milwaukee. That place is Harley central. They’ve got bike exhibits, facility tours. I could get a wicked deal there. I have a

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friend we could crash with for a while, he said it was no problem.” Shock rippled through me. Apparently Cooper had already given his departure a lot of thought. Did that mean if I hadn’t agreed to go with him last night, he planned on going alone? When Cooper caught the look on my face he stiffened. “You still wanna go, right?” Right, ‘cause if I don’t, you’ll do a disappearing act. “Yeah.” “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” I noticed a spot on the helmet and began to rub it clean with my sleeve. “Well, I need a bit of time to wrap things up, that’s all. I have to call Herb and tell him I quit, you know?” “Well, of course. Same here. We could leave Sunday morning. Would that give you enough time?” “That’s only two days from now.” Cooper wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his frustration. “Okay. When?” When hell freezes over? “Umm…well, I guess I could leave Sunday. I hope my father’s back by then, I’d hate to just leave without saying goodbye.” “When is he coming back?” I didn’t know if he was coming back at all, but decided now was not the time to mention it. “I don’t really know.” “Send him a postcard,” Cooper replied irritably as he climbed onto his bike. I shoved the helmet on my head and held my temper in check. We were sore, tired and hungry. I needed a bath, food and sleep, and then I had to think. I hopped on the bike and put my arms around him. “I just need to organize things, arrange a few details.” Cooper revved the motor to life and effectively drowned me out. Clearly he didn’t understand the concept that I couldn’t

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just pick up and go like he could. I shouldn’t be criticized just because I was boring and responsible. There was nothing left to say. We drove back to Normal.

Making love under the stars had been a once in a lifetime experience, and I secretly prayed it would stay once in my lifetime. I had grass in my hair, mud on my ass, and a sore tailbone. I loved nature, but at a distance. Cooper decided to check in on Big Dog, seeing as we’d left in such a hurry the night before. When we walked into the warehouse, there was no evidence of the fight the previous night. Neatly stacked boxes lined the wall, crates containing large appliances filled the corners, and cars were uniformly parked in the center. Big Dog was poring over a large binder, and grinned when he saw us. “Hey, you left just when things got interesting.” Cooper raised an eyebrow. “You hold your own?” “Not bad. Macy’s got one hell of a shiner, but we managed to get a handle on things. Don’t think Jackson and his goons are gonna cause more trouble any time soon. Like you said, there’s a warrant out for Jackson’s arrest. Feds want to talk to him. They’re swarming his office.” Big Dog turned to me, and nodded respectfully. “Thanks for the show. That’s some kind of fighting you did. They had to carry that chick out like a sack of potatoes. You really rang her bell.” I blushed and smiled. “Glad to help.” Cooper slung his arm around me possessively. “I brought the hog back. Macy around?” Big Dog’s plump face brightened. “You’re gonna love this, Coop. Macy got tagged this morning by the cops. Seems he violated his parole. He’ll be in the slammer for a couple of months. Maybe he’ll let you keep the hog until he gets out.”

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I squealed and kissed Cooper on the cheek. Cooper’s eyes danced, and I could tell he was mulling over the possibilities. “I’d better talk to him, first. I wouldn’t want to piss off a guy like Macy.” “Well, one thing’s for sure. He can’t ride it in jail.” Cooper walked me to the parking lot behind Big Dog’s, where I’d left my car. We held each other a long moment, then Cooper kissed my forehead. “Look, I’m sorry about that ‘send him a postcard’ shot. I know you want to say goodbye to your father, but we could always come back for Christmas.” I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. “Okay.” “Don’t worry. Checking out of a place is easy once you do it a few times.” Don’t worry? It’s what I do best. And what did he mean, ‘once you do it a few times’? Did that mean this would be a regular thing? I swallowed hard and nodded, since I didn’t trust my voice. “You’re shivering. Why don’t you go to your place, start packing, and I’ll meet you there later, before whatever scumbag shows up to pick up that package. I don’t want you there alone. But I need to give Grease a heads up and put in a few hours.” “S…sure.” I climbed stiffly into my car, my muscles protesting. Miss Bun knew how to fight, and my ribs were still sore from the kicks she’d delivered. Maybe, in an alternate universe, we could exchange tips and techniques. She’d executed some beauty moves I wouldn’t mind learning, and maybe I could teach her a few things. Sleeping on the hard ground hadn’t helped my hair, either. My head throbbed and my hair was filthy, in addition to being frizzy. Fantasizing about a hot shower, I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, shoved my key in the lock, and stepped inside. King Arthur was perched on one arm of the couch, flicking his tail.

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A large, hairy man had planted himself at the other end. An ugly red scar graced the top of his left eyebrow. He was packing a gun, aimed straight at me.

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Twenty “S

o you’re the one who’s trying to steal my job,” the man said. Say what? “I think you have the wrong apartment.” “I don’t think so. I want the package.” I forced my question through a parched throat. “The package?” “That Che gave you. I’m his top courier and no pink-haired, smart-assed girl is going to cheat me out of my cut. Now where is it?” Oh, shit, I should have known. Che was bad news. This must be the disgruntled employee who was giving Che headaches. I had two choices. Give up the package I’d been entrusted with and risk making Che angry—I didn’t like that option—or refuse to hand it over, and get shot. I liked that option even less. I decided to stall. “I don’t think I can give it to you.” The man’s eyebrows shot up, making his scar look deeper and uglier. “Really? Why not?”

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“It doesn’t belong to me.” Scarface stood and cocked the gun. “You were saying?” “I was saying since it’s not mine, I don’t care if you take it or not. I’ll go get it.” He followed me, and I had a moment’s panic when I realized if I gave him the package, Che might be the one to shoot me, so I was only delaying the inevitable. I marched toward the bathroom with Scarface on my tail. “Wait a minute,” he growled. “Just give me the package, and no funny stuff.” “But the package is in there.” “In the can?” “Yes, and I have to pee. I won’t be a minute.” I tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot in the way. He waved his gun in my face. “Keep the door open.” “If you think I’m going to pee in front of a complete stranger, you’re nuts. I won’t be a minute. Now cool your jets.” I pushed hard and managed to slam the door in his big, ugly face. I’ve often relied on urination to get me out of difficult situations. There was the time Benny Lovitz cornered me in his kitchen and tried to cop a feel with his mother in the next room. I pretended to like it, excused myself, and crawled to safety from his main floor bathroom. This was more or less the same situation, except Benny had never felt me up at gunpoint. I opened the cabinet below the sink and retrieved the package from where I’d stashed it in a half-empty box of tampons. I kept a lot of important stuff there, like my passport, my birth certificate and some emergency chocolate bars when I had a bad craving. There was a window over the toilet. I leaned over and pushed up the sill. I climbed onto the toilet seat, but my heart sank as I realized my only escape route was too small to crawl through.

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I’d have to take my chances with Che. “Hey, lady.” Scarface pounded on the door. “Hurry up in there!” “Listen, buddy, I’ve got a situation here, a woman’s thing, so take a pill, already.” I’ve found that any reference to the female menstrual cycle usually makes men squirm and back off. I heard cursing on the other side of the door and the pounding stopped, temporarily at least. I hopped off the toilet and happened to glance in the mirror. I almost fainted when I saw my reflection. I looked like Mother Nature’s ugly stepsister. Grass and small twigs stuck out of my hair at every angle, my lips had disappeared from a severe lack of lipstick, and dark circles edged my eyes. My chin had turned purple. How Cooper could have sex with me looking the way I did was a mystery. “Finally,” Scarface mumbled as I opened the door. I held out the package. He grabbed it from me and ripped it open. My guess had been accurate. It was full of money. “Che isn’t going to be too happy about this,” I warned. “What should I tell him?” Scarface backed away from me. “Tell him he’s got no business hiring amateurs.” I didn’t think that was wise, but I wasn’t in a position to have an opinion. He still had me at gunpoint. When I finally closed and locked the door behind him, my legs gave out and I slid to the floor, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I took a long, hot shower, and washed away the evidence of sex in the country. I still couldn’t get a comb through my hair, so I piled the unruly mess into a claw and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a white peasant blouse. I polished off a cheese sandwich and a glass of milk and checked my watch. Almost noon.

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Perhaps the most prudent thing to do would be to drive out to Che’s hideout off the highway, explain what had happened, and throw myself at his mercy. Or I could leave town. The only positive about my little encounter with Scarface was it gave me a good excuse to postpone packing. I glanced around my apartment with dismay. What did a person pack when they were checking out of a place? Surely more than just a knapsack with a change of underwear? Unlike Cooper, my underwear was complicated. I’d need to bring my comfortable camisole for everyday, my push-up bra for going out and looking sexy, my sports bra for running, and that was just my top half. I’d need cotton bikinis, silk thongs, and spandex tummy control half-briefs for when I binged. I got tired just thinking about it, never mind packing it. My mother would hopefully adopt King, and maybe I could store some of my favorite stuff in her basement. Having my favorite stuff around gave me comfort. Deep inside me a voice whispered, don’t do it. I brushed it off. I was a grown woman, and the man I loved had just asked me to run away with him. This was the stuff teenage fantasies were made of: endless days and nights spent in each other’s arms, sharing experiences, traveling across America, seeing the world. Wow, it was so exciting I was tingling all over. Or maybe I was trembling with fear, it was hard to tell. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a knock at my front door. I checked the peephole, expecting Cooper. It was my mother. She rarely came to visit me. I opened the door. “Mom? What are you doing here?” A wave of horror washed over me when I saw her white, pinched face. My mother stepped inside and smoothed her expertly dyed, ash-blond hair, a nervous habit. She wore a bright pink suit and stiletto heels. Only my mother would wear an outfit like that while delivering what looked like bad news.

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“Hannah, I would have called, but this is too horrible to discuss over the phone.” “What’s too horrible?” “What happened to your face?” My hand flew to my bruised chin. “I…bumped into a door. What’s wrong?” She wrung her hands and shook her head in dismay. “It’s your father. Maybe I shouldn’t have teased you about your bad hair. You were right.” My heart fell to my shoes. “He’s in trouble?” “He’s in jail.”

My mother and I waited what seemed like forever while my Uncle Forrest posted bail and arranged my father’s release. Finally we were escorted to a private room where we found Dad sitting at a table, his shoulders slumped. He stood when he saw us, and put on a brave face. “Thanks for coming, Jasmine. Hello, Hannah.” He frowned. “What happened to your face?” I burst into tears. My mother held me and patted my back. “She bumped into a door.” When my crying jag was over, she asked calmly, “Illegal gambling, Judd? That’s the charge?” The lines on my father’s face deepened. “I’m sorry. I played the ponies once, four months ago. I haven’t gambled since.” He shook his head. “They were investigating Marvin. Found his books. He had no choice but to come clean.” “Where have you been all this time?” I demanded with a sniff. “Chicago.” “Not Vegas?”

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“Why in hell would I go to Vegas when I’m trying to avoid arrest? No, I needed to disappear for a while.” “Because of Marvin and the investigation?” My father hesitated briefly, then said, “Yes.” “Maybe you should have stayed away a bit longer,” my mother suggested ruefully. “I could have, but I called my secretary and she told me about Marvin. So I called Forrest, and he said things would go worse for me if I didn’t voluntarily come back.” I decided to go for broke. I needed some answers. “Tell me why you’re working with Norman Jackson.” My father blanched. “I am not working with Jackson.” “I found a memo in his office with your name on it,” I accused hotly. “His office? What were you doing there?” “Don’t change the subject.” “You’ve been busy,” my father muttered, looking defeated. “What you must think of me.” I leaned forward and planted both hands on the table. “I don’t know what to think, Dad. I need you to talk to me, like an adult. I love you. If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come to me?” His eyes misted over. “I couldn’t.” “Why?” I asked. “I didn’t want my little girl thinking I wasn’t who she thought I was.” My mother pulled a hanky out of her purse and dabbed her nose. “I would never think that, but it hurts to know you don’t trust me,” I said. “Or that you didn’t come to me for help.” “Dammit, Hannah, I’m your father. I’m the one you’re supposed to rely on for help, not the other way around.” “We’re family. Haven’t I always tried to take care of things?” My father shot his hand through his hair and sighed. “Maybe

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it’s time you stopped doing that, ‘cause every time you do it, I feel like a failure.” “So what happens now? You were supposed to stay out of trouble for six months.” I heard my mother’s gasp and realized what I’d done. My father’s expression darkened and he glared at my mother. “I asked you not to tell her.” “Judd, she was worried.” “Don’t be angry with Mom,” I said. “She was trying to help me figure out why your name was on that list.” “Hannah, I told you I don’t what that list is. I wish you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to investigate it.” “What choice did I have? We keep too many secrets in this family.” “Yeah, maybe we do. As far as the other charge goes, hell, this is going to sound lame, but I didn’t know she was a prostitute until later. Call me naïve, or stupid, or both. A mutual acquaintance arranged it, and I should have known better. It wasn’t until the vice squad showed up that I realized something wasn’t right.” He threw me a forced smile. “No fool like an old fool.” It hurt to see my father so humbled. “I don’t know what you saw in Jackson’s office,” my father continued, “but I have nothing to do with him. He’s up to his eyeballs in crime.” “How do you know?” my mother piped up, her eyes wide. “I hear things. It’s not such a big secret, in a town this size. He’s got his fingers in every pie there is. Stolen cars, stolen guns, petty theft—” “Cops in his pocket,” I interjected. “That too. I tried to stay as far away from him as I could, but he knew about the soliciting charge, and he knew about my trips to the bookie.”

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My legs were shaky, so I pulled out a chair and sat. My mother stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders. “Jackson wanted me to open some accounts for him.” My father perched on the edge of the table. “Probably for moneylaundering purposes. I refused point blank.” “So he blackmailed you,” I said. My father nodded. “I couldn’t go to the police. I just wanted everything kept quiet, at least until my six-month probation was up. I was trying to avoid arrest. I was afraid to lose my job, my reputation. I couldn’t take that chance.” “Dad, the FBI are involved now. They’re all over Jackson.” “I know. Forrest told me.” My father rubbed a trembling hand on his forehead. “If the Feds are going to arrest Jackson, then they’ll want to talk to me. I’ll be considered an accomplice.” Tears welled in my eyes. “Dad,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You were being blackmailed. You had no choice.” “There’s always a choice, Hannah. I could have chosen not to help Jackson, and to hell with the consequences. Instead, I kept my mouth shut to stay out of jail.” “Anyone would have done the same,” my mother reasoned. “What does Forrest say?” “He feels pretty confident that if I cooperate with the FBI and their investigation of Jackson, and find proof he was blackmailing me, it’ll work in my favor.” “Well, that’s something, at least,” my mother murmured. My father was silent a moment, then spoke. “I never meant to disappoint or hurt either of you. I’m sorry I kept this to myself, but I didn’t want you involved.” Now my tears flowed freely. “I should have thrown that list away. I should have let it go. It’s my fault.” “No,” my father insisted. “I’m relieved it’s out in the open. Do you have any idea what it’s been like, having Jackson holding this over my head, doing whatever the hell he wanted while I

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sat by and watched? Well, no more. It’s finished.” He reached out and lifted my chin with gentle fingers. “The FBI were already on to Jackson. You couldn’t have stopped this. It’s not your fault, Hannah.” For the first time in my life, I realized that if I’d kept my nose out of my father’s troubles, things might have turned out better for him. What was it Cooper had said? That I should concentrate on my life instead of everyone else’s? My father seemed almost chipper by the time Uncle Forrest returned, and his reaction to all of the heat coming down on him was a surprise. I’d never seem him acting so sensibly. I had to admit, it was ages since my parents and I had enjoyed some time together, and it was nice. But unlike other families, who held their gatherings at parks, bowling alleys or restaurants, we held ours in the middle of police stations. Uncle Forrest accompanied my father to his office to gather the files he’d need to explain his activities to the authorities. Before they left, I made Dad promise to call me and let me know when he was meeting with the FBI, since I wanted to be there for moral support. He hesitated before agreeing and on the way back to my car I wondered why. Cooper would say there was a fine line between being a concerned daughter and an annoying busybody. I drove my mother back to my place so she could pick up her car, and was very grateful for her company, since it had been a shock for both of us seeing the former head of our family in jail. “Mom, what do you think will happen?” “Forrest is a good lawyer, honey. We have to stay hopeful. Your father has a habit of landing on his feet.” This was true. My father could swan dive into a pile of manure and come out smelling like a rose. I had the diving into

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the manure part down cold. It was the smelling like a rose part I had to work on. I stopped at a red light, and gave my mother’s pink outfit the once over. “Did you have a date or something?” “Or something. I was on my way to the studio to meet Brad Barford, the coordinator of the Bloomington Gallery. I figured if I got to know him a little better he’d give me a good location for my paintings. Lighting is everything at these exhibitions.” “In other words, your plan was to kiss up to him.” “Why not? He’ll be annoyed I stood him up, so I’ll have to apologize and reschedule.” She frowned. “Darn, I left his number at the studio. I’ll drop by there on my way home.” I smiled. My mother painted abstracts, and used every color in the rainbow, and some colors that weren’t. I had no idea where she got her inspiration from, but I was proud of her efforts. I secretly envied her creativity. I hadn’t inherited any of it. Any talents I had, I got from the Hailstone side of the family. Like my father, I attracted trouble like a magnet. “Hannah, there’s something different about you. You’ve got color in your cheeks.” My mother smiled knowingly. “You and Cooper getting along okay?” “Yeah, we’re getting along fine.” “There’s nothing like great sex to make you glow. “ “Mother!” “Well, it’s true. Your father and I may have had our differences, but I had no complaints in the bedroom.” I clapped a hand over my ear. “I don’t want to hear this. La la la la la. Not listening.” “Hannah, you’re a prude. I see your hair still looks like you stuck your finger in a socket.” “Let this be a testimony that my bad hair is never wrong. It’s been one humdinger of a week.”

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“You certainly lead a strange life. I really think you should get your hair cut or something.” Uncle Forrest couldn’t give us any idea when my father’s court date would be, since it all hinged on when the FBI wrapped up their investigation of Jackson. One thing was certain. It wouldn’t take place in the next two days, which meant I would be halfway across the country if my father was sent to jail. Now I really didn’t feel like packing. I needed to talk to Cooper. I dropped my mother off and drove to Tyler’s garage. Grease nodded as I entered the office, and when I asked for Cooper, he led me to the garage. The smell of engine oil greeted me, along with the deafening whine of some kind of tool that sounded like a drill dentists use, only a million times louder and scarier. We passed a car perched high off the ground, its underbelly exposed, no doubt awaiting some kind of mysterious mechanical procedure. Grease pointed to a car. I saw a pair of familiar, jean-clad legs, but that was enough to make me salivate. I thanked Grease, who wandered away with a smile. I waited a few moments, content to stare at Cooper’s sexy thighs, but then grew impatient to see his face. I knocked on the hood of the car. “Hello?” Cooper slid toward me on some kind of trolley, and grinned when he saw me. “Hey, babe, what are you doing here?” He got to his feet, pulled a rag out of his pocket, and wiped some of the grease off his hands. He wore a white tee-shirt sporting a Harley Davidson logo, and his sweat made the shirt cling to his skin in all the right places. I wrenched my eyes away from his chest and met his smiling gaze. “Um…something’s happened Cooper.” I stood there, not really knowing what to say next. He came closer and put his arms around me, and I clung to him, sweat,

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grease and all. I pressed my ear next to his heart and listened to it beating. Then I blurted out everything in a fierce whisper: Dad’s gambling, his arrest, his unfortunate involvement with Jackson. Cooper nodded periodically until I was finished. I left out the part about Scarface. May as well face one crisis at a time. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” he said finally. “Do you think your Dad will really go to jail?” “Uncle Forrest is going to do everything he can,” I explained. “But maybe it won’t be enough.” Cooper pulled back and looked at me. “You gotta stay positive about it. It’s not going to help him any if you don’t.” He had a point, but I wasn’t in the mood to be positive. “So I guess this messes up our plans a bit,” I said, feeling sad and relieved at the same time. Cooper went still. “Messes them up how?” “Well, I can’t leave now, can I?” “I guess you want to spend some time with him, huh?” “Exactly,” I said as I let out a breath. “Whew. I’m glad you understand, Cooper. I was so afraid.” “Afraid?” “It’s just, I know how much you wanted to leave, and I thought you might…you know, make me go, and—” “Make you go?” Cooper let go of me and shook his head. “What does that mean?” A huge weight had just been lifted off my shoulders, and it made my tongue say all the wrong things. “I didn’t mean make me go, I meant that you’d still want to go.” “I do. Still want to go.” “But you said—” “I said I guess you need a little more time.” “Oh.” “You don’t really want to go at all, do you?”

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I laughed nervously. “Of course I do.” Cooper looked away and then gave me a sad smile. “You’re such a bad liar.” My heart stood still. “But I do.” “No.” “I love you.” Cooper nodded. “I know that.” He could see the truth in me, even if I refused to. The last thing I wanted to do was leave. I strived to be carefree and spontaneous. I wished I could chuck my dead-end job without looking back. But I couldn’t. Because I wasn’t my mother. I’d worked very hard not to be like her at all. Somebody had to support my father during the worst crisis of his life. How could I leave him now? He’d end up in prison, languishing in a cell somewhere, and I’d feel guilty that I hadn’t been there for him. “Cooper, I just need to take care of a few things. It works in reverse for my family. Even though I’m the kid, my parents are off the wall, and when I’m not around—” “I understand,” Cooper interrupted. Panic hit me at the resignation in his voice. I loved Cooper. I loved him so much, and I didn’t want to lose him. “Look, that doesn’t mean I won’t go with you. I will, I just—” “Don’t, Hannah. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” “No,” I said frantically. “We have to talk about this. What are you thinking? What are you going to do?” Cooper carefully wiped his hands with the cloth. “You know, you were right. Maybe we are too different. I’m being selfish asking you to come with me. I know how important your family is to you.” “But you’re important to me, too.” “Hey, Coop!” Grease yelled from the doorway. “Phone call. The owner of the Dodge.”

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“Gotta go,” Cooper said quietly. “I’ll see you in a bit, at your place.” “But—” “Babe, I’m sorry.” He turned his back, walked away, and left me standing there alone. I waited a few minutes, hoping maybe he’d return when he finished the phone call, but then I chickened out. His remote expression and his ‘I’m sorry’ told me he wasn’t just sorry about the interruption. He was probably sorry he’d ever crawled into my car.

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hopping always helped whenever I was upset, so I drove over to the wholesalers and spent an hour wandering the aisles and ordering stock in preparation for my shop re-opening the next day. Then I went to Tiffany’s to make sure she was still available to work in the morning. She was, and her eyes sparkled as she described her ideas for a Thanksgiving promotion. “I was thinking we could, like, do a whole feature on grains, you know, like when people think Thanksgiving they think harvest, that kind of thing.” “Sure,” I mumbled. “Or we could even do a display of herbs that come from fall flowers, like, you know, Echinacea comes from Purple Coneflowers.” “Sounds great.” Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay, Hannah?” I eyed the extra-large pepperoni pizza Joel was digging into. When he saw me staring, he gestured to the pizza box. “Want some, Boss?”

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I thought you’d never ask. “Well, if there’s enough,” I said, joining him at the table and hunkering down for a junkfood fest. Tiffany watched us in disgust while she picked away at a spinach salad. I didn’t want to bore either of them with my problems. They hadn’t reached adulthood yet, and would have a hard time understanding why I’d choose staying in a dead-end town instead of hitting the highway with a hunk. But I needed a shoulder to cry on, so I drove to my mother’s house. Her car wasn’t in the driveway. Once I remembered she was at the studio, I drove there. I couldn’t face my apartment, knowing I was supposed to be packing and leaving all of my stuff behind, like a loyal girlfriend should be. Now I wasn’t leaving any of my stuff behind, and didn’t have to pack, because I’d chosen to be a loyal daughter— I couldn’t be both—and I wasn’t going anywhere. I pulled up in front of Carrie’s Creations, the arts and crafts supply store that also housed an art studio in the back. My mother’s Honda sat parked just up the street, which meant I hadn’t wasted a trip. I made my way down a small alleyway to the back door, and pushed it open. I expected to see my mother. I didn’t expect to see Che and his driver. Che lounged against a counter with an amused look on his handsome face. He wore a black crewneck sweater and black dress pants that looked like Armani. His spiky red-haired chauffeur stood beside my mother, his right hand holding a gun at hip level. I clapped my hand over my mouth and looked at my watch: six fifteen. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about Che and his five o’clock deadline. “Good evening, Hannah,” Che greeted me graciously. “Yes, it’s always later than we think it is.”

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“Mom, are you okay?” I demanded. My mother’s face was white, but composed. She glared at the gunman. “I told him if he came anywhere near me I’d break his toes with my heel.” Che chuckled. “Hannah, now I know where you get your bravado.” His eyes gleamed as he stared at my mother. “And your looks.” He’d obviously tailed us from the police station, and then had tailed my mother. Why wasn’t I surprised? Although I had to hand it to him, he was a consummate professional. Of all of the people who’d followed me over the past week, he was the only one I hadn’t noticed. “Che, I know why you’re here.” “Good.” He pushed off the counter and came toward me, as graceful as a cat. “It seems we’ve had a little mix-up. My client, apparently, found no one at home when he came to pick up the package.” “But you don’t understand, it’s been a horrible day.” “I’m sure you have a legitimate excuse,” Che said softly. “I understand you have a problematic life. In fact, you have an extraordinary talent for misfortune. But we all have our trials.” “Che, listen—” “I’m a reasonable man, Hannah. I’m prepared to cut you some slack. I’m not sure why. Maybe because you’re like a breath of fresh air.” His eyes slid to my mother again. “Maybe because you have a beautiful mother.” My mother pursed her lips and shot daggers at him with her eyes. He ogled her up and down, and turned reluctantly back to me. “In any event, I can’t imagine you deliberately meant to rob me. Why don’t you just give me back the package, and we’ll forget all about it.” “That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I groaned. “I don’t have it.”

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Che’s smile evaporated. “Some guy stole it from me this morning.” “Some guy?” “Yes. He looked like an ape, and he had a scar over his left eye, and he accused me of stealing his job.” Anger flashed in Che’s eyes, and he glanced over at Red. “I see.” “I refused to give him the package at first, but his gun was very persuasive. I’m not stupid, Che. If I were going to steal your money, I wouldn’t hang around waiting for a bullet. I’d be long gone.” Che looked thoughtful. “You have a point, and I’d like to trust you, but the first time we met, you pretended to be someone else.” “What else was I supposed to do? Say ‘you’ve got the wrong girl’ and let you waste me?” After a few moments, Che said, “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll check out your little story. If you’re telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about.” “What if you can’t find Scarface?” Che’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I’ll find him.” A cold fist closed over my heart. “Fine,” I said. “After that, I’m done. You can shoot me if you want, I don’t care anymore.” “Hannah!” my mother gasped. “Well it’s been a shitty day,” I growled. “A shitty week. I’m tired, and nothing you can do or say could make me feel any worse than I do now.” My mother’s eyes narrowed, and I could sense she’d turned on her maternal radar. “Did you and Cooper have a fight?” “Excuse me,” Che interrupted smoothly, “but I’ll leave you two alone to sort out your domestic difficulties, if you don’t mind.” He squeezed my shoulder, which sent a shiver down my

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spine. “Don’t be angry with me, Hannah. I’m not such a bad guy. Knowing me could have its advantages, you know.” I raised an eyebrow and looked him in the eye. Che feigned shock. “Not of a sexual nature, Hannah. I’m old enough to be your father.” “That wouldn’t stop some men.” “I’m not some men.” He crossed the room, stood in front of my mother and studied her brazenly. “I like my women a little more...mature. And I don’t need to bargain to get one.” Che leaned closer, and for a horrible instant I thought he was going to kiss her. I think my mother thought he was too, because a mixture of horror and fascination flared in her eyes. But Che just gazed at her a long moment, and smiled knowingly. My mother never flinched. She jutted out her chin and gave him a frosty look. I was very impressed, not to mention relieved. I didn’t have to worry about fighting off any sexual advances from Che. Only violent ones. Che snapped his fingers, and Red produced two sets of handcuffs in response to some kind of villainous sign language. A heavy, ornate mahogany table stood near the window. Before I could blink, Red had me handcuffed to the iron ring on the top of the table leg. “The old lady, too?” Red asked. My mother glowered. “Who are you calling old? I’ve got news for you, buster. You’ve got a fat ass!” Trust my mother to be more upset about being called old than being held at gunpoint and handcuffed. Red flushed, and handcuffed my mother to the same table leg. On his way out, Che paused at the doorway. “Sorry about the handcuffs, ladies. But I need to guarantee you won’t disappear on me before I have a chance to verify your story. If

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you don’t hear from me, it means things went in your favor. Goodbye, Hannah.” He gave my mother a lazy grin. “It’s been a pleasure, Jasmine.” “But what about these?” I demanded, shaking my shackled hand. “Aren’t you going to leave us a key?” “No.” Che replied smugly. “I have every confidence you’ll figure something out.” We watched in disbelief as Che and Red left the studio. “Who was that horrible man?” my mother demanded, clearly flustered. “Who does he think he is? Where do you meet these people, Hannah?” “That was Che Santiago. I told you about him.” “The man who kidnapped you?” “Uh-huh,” I replied wearily. “How long were they here?” “They burst in just before you got here, almost scared me half to death.” “Yeah, Che has that effect on people.” “Well, I’d have to say this is a first. The first time I’ve been held at gunpoint, I mean. It’s not the first time I’ve been handcuffed. Sometimes your father—” “Too much information, Mom,” I said, panicking. “Come on, help me.” “Help you do what?” “We have to get to that phone,” I said, pointing to the phone on the counter. “I’ll pull, you push.” We managed to shove the table up against the counter, and I grabbed the phone and punched in the number of Tyler’s garage. Grease answered, surprised Cooper wasn’t with me, and explained he’d left a couple of hours ago for my place. I asked Grease to get hold of Cooper right away and tell him to come to my mother’s studio, pronto. I gave him directions. “Oh, and Grease, tell Cooper to bring a pair of bolt cutters.” “Bolt cutters?”

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“You heard me.” Grease’s stunned silence was deafening. It seemed every time I saw the man, I was desperately looking for Cooper. He probably thought I was nuts.

All that remained was to await our rescue. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink,” my mother announced wearily. She nodded to a small fridge in the corner. “Carrie’s Creations held their first anniversary bash last week. I think there’s some left over Chardonnay in there.” We pushed our table toward the fridge, close enough so my mother could open the door and pull out half a bottle of wine. Before I could ask if she had any glasses around, she bit down on the cork, pulled it out with her teeth, and took a long drink. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and handed me the bottle. Sometimes it was hard to believe I’d spent nine months inside this woman. I drank some wine, and decided now was a good time to bring up my P.I. friend Wesley, since my mother was handcuffed to the same table I was, and couldn’t avoid my questions. I wiggled onto the table. “I had a strange conversation with a private investigator from Ohio,” I began. “He’s helping his sister-in-law solve a mystery. She discovered that her brother, someone named Mickey Evans, who’s apparently been dead for three decades, has an active bank account here in Normal. The trail led to your car. Isn’t that the most bizarre thing you’ve ever heard?” My mother’s face lost its color and she clutched the edge of the table with her free hand, her knuckles white. “Mom?” She hung her head, and shook it.

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I was afraid she’d faint, so I put down the bottle and gently pushed her forward. “Take a deep breath, Mom, that’s it.” “I’m just a bit dizzy.” “Take your time.” A few moments later she straightened, looking a bit less pale, but my little story had obviously upset her. So much for my hope that this dead man had nothing to do with my mother, and that it was all a mistake. “Did you know him? This Mickey Evans?” “Yes, I knew him very well,” my mother said slowly, leaning against the table. “He was the first man I ever loved. I would have married him.” I tensed my jaw to prevent it from hitting the floor. “Why didn’t you?” Sadness glazed her eyes. “He died.” I licked dry lips and couldn’t think of anything to say. My mother gave me a wistful look. “You know I went to college in Chicago? That’s where we met. He was studying engineering. He was tall, with dark, silky hair and dreamy brown eyes. And he was kind, always so kind to everyone. I’ll never understand why he loved me so much. We were very different. In those days I was fiery and impulsive. He was calmer, more laid back. “But we fought a lot. That’s all we seemed to do. Fight, make up, make love, and then fight all over again. I suppose if Mickey had lived, and we’d gotten married, we would have torn each other to pieces eventually.” I couldn’t speak. My gut twisted at her words. She’d just described my relationship with Cooper. I didn’t want us to tear each other to pieces. I wanted a normal relationship, a normal life, in Normal. I wanted Cooper to stay with me, not wander all over the country. Maybe I was a stupid fool. Maybe there was no such thing as happily ever after.

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“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” “I don’t know. Thinking about him is so painful, even now, after all these years. He got sick with cancer. It was very hard. There were things I didn’t want you to know about.” We had more skeletons rattling in our closets than the Addams family. “I wish everyone in this family would stop keeping so many secrets. What else haven’t you told me?” “There’s lots I haven’t told you, Hannah. There’s lots you don’t tell me.” Touché. “But that’s different.” “Why?” I had no idea. I blurted out the first thing that came to me, even though it made no sense. “I’m your daughter.” “This all happened a long time ago, Hannah. I’m entitled to a few secrets. So is your father, for that matter. Do you think I dropped from the heavens just in time to give birth to you? I had a life before you were born. I made mistakes, I had sex, I did stupid things, just like you. And don’t tell me,” she said, pointing a finger at me when I opened my mouth to protest, “that you and Cooper haven’t done all of those things. You must think I was born yesterday. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s the same way men used to look at me.” And the same way Che had just looked at her. My palms grew clammy and my temples pounded. My mother patted my knee. “You always tell me you’re not like me. The truth is, we have more in common than you realize. You’re inquisitive, and stubborn as hell, like a dog with a bone, until you get what you want.” Underneath my mother was a woman, a woman very much like me. It was frightening. “Mom,” I said softly, “I only want to know the truth. If you tell me it’s none of my business, I’ll respect that.”

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I waited for her to speak again. Her eyes grew misty remembering ghosts of her past. “When I was your age, things were very different.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “My own mother used to say that, and it was just as true then, I guess. The sixties were all about free love, peace, anti-establishment. Our generation was out to change things. We were radical, and convinced we were right. Maybe we were. You have to understand what we were dealing with, Hannah. Young men forced to fight a war a lot people were against. Armed guards shooting university students whose only crime was speaking their minds. It was a dark time.” I had known, certainly, that my mother had been caught up in the political unrest of her generation. She was a born flower child. “Mickey believed in the same things I did,” she continued. “If we did things I later regretted, at least our reasons were valid. I still believe that, I have to. You know that I was very politically active while I was in university?” My mother had told me a few stories of her student days: handing out flyers to raise awareness about Cesar Chavez and the plight of the California farm workers, attending sit-ins and anti-Vietnam war marches. “Yes, I know.” “I believed in peace, not war,” my mother said emphatically. “I planned to attend an anti-war rally that a professor of mine had organized. He hooked me up with a fellow protester who was attending, very charismatic and popular. His name was Reece. He needed a lift, and I had a car. Mickey didn’t want me to go alone, but he was busy with assignments, and couldn’t come. I told him not to worry, that everything would be fine.” My mother’s eyes took on a haunted look. “It didn’t turn out that way.” I covered her unshackled hand with mine.

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“Reece wasn’t interested in the rally. We ended up outside a government building in downtown Chicago. He said he needed to pick up something. I waited in the car. Ten minutes later he returned, carrying a gym bag. He pointed a gun at me and told me to drive.” “Oh, my God.” “He had knocked off a Federal building. Two hundred thousand dollars in government payroll.” Her eyes cut to mine. “I knew the only way to stay alive was to go along with him. Pretend I was all for sticking it to the government. I dropped him off on a corner, then went home. Mickey knew something had gone wrong, but I couldn’t talk about it, not until months later.” “Why didn’t you go to the police?” My mother shook her head. “The police were on a witch hunt. I’d have ended up in jail, no question. I was a known protester, a troublemaker in their eyes. I had no proof that I wasn’t involved in the robbery. “Reece showed up on my doorstep a few months later, after things had died down. He gave me the gym bag full of money, told me to hide it in a vault for a few days until he came for it. He trusted me, for some reason. I was too afraid to refuse. He was a powerful man, with powerful friends, and I knew his face. If he for one minute thought I’d turn on him, I knew he’d kill me.” “Didn’t Reece come back for the bag?” My mother stared off into space. “No, he never came back. I never found out why. Maybe he was killed. I was afraid if I came forward with the money I’d be arrested, or one of Reece’s friends would hunt me down. Mickey helped me hide the bag. His family was very wealthy, and gave him a generous allowance.” “Where did you hide it?”

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“He opened an account at the bank here, under his name. We bought a vault, where we hid the bag. We paid the monthly fee for the vault out of that account. Mickey set it up so that after he died, I could still make the payments without it being traced to me.” “How much money is in that account, Mom?” I asked, knowing I wasn’t going to like her answer. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Enough to pay the bills,” she said vaguely. “But I’ve never touched the stolen money. Not one cent of it. I’m not a thief.” So that was why my mother had refused my father’s alimony. She already had income from another source. I took some comfort in the fact that at least she wasn’t double-dipping. My hair vibrated. “What year did this robbery take place?” “Nineteen sixty-nine. Why?” It couldn’t be a coincidence. “Mom, the FBI have been watching Norman Jackson. They want to talk to him about a Federal payroll heist that happened in nineteen sixty-nine. It’s got to be the same robbery.” My mother squirmed uneasily. “I don’t see how. What would Norman Jackson have to do with this?” Good question. “I don’t know, but there has to be a connection.” Dread slithered in my belly. There was something about what my mother had just told me that was important, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “If Mickey’s sister knows about the bank account, I guess I’m in a bit of trouble, aren’t I?” Just a bit. The small part of my brain that still acted like a lawyer came up with three rather significant charges right off the bat: accessory to armed robbery, possession of stolen property, and obstruction of justice. “Mom, I think we should talk to Uncle Forrest.”

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y mother and I had polished off the Chardonnay by the time Cooper arrived wielding steel bolt cutters. He stared at us in dismay, open-mouthed, his eyes clouded with worry. “Are you okay?” My mother burped. “Excuse me. We’re fine. But I’d appreciate it if you could cut off my cuffs first. I need to use the lady’s room.” She grinned at me. “Age before beauty.” Cooper said nothing, he just freed my mother and she made a beeline for the bathroom. As he snapped my handcuffs off, I detected a tension in the air that seemed heavier than the circumstances warranted. Cooper looked like he’d swallowed a box of nails. “What’s wrong?” I asked, flexing my legs to get the blood circulating again. “What do you think?” Cooper replied. “You’re cursed, you know that? I leave you alone for an hour.” “It’s not my fault,” I cried. “What was Che doing here? What did he want?”

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“He wondered why his client didn’t get the package.” Cooper’s brow creased. “I waited at your place for an hour, I went to your mother’s, I drove all over town trying to find you. I know I’m going to hate the answer to this, but what the hell happened? Why weren’t you even home at five o’clock?” “I lost track of time.” I watched as the veins in Cooper’s neck pulsed. “You promised a killer you’d deliver a bundle of money to someone, and you just forgot?” “I didn’t have the money, anyway. That man took it.” “What man?” “Didn’t I tell you about that?” Cooper’s mouth hardened to a thin line. He closed his eyes a moment, then opened them again. “No.” I explained about Scarface. Cooper turned so red I thought he was going to have a stroke. “And this is something you thought you’d keep from me?” “I had other things on my mind,” I declared. “Like bailing my father out of jail and fighting with you.” “We weren’t fighting.” “Gee, that’s funny. I distinctly recall being very upset after I talked to you.” “All I did was point out the obvious—that you’ve changed your mind about coming with me, and I said I understood.” “But what does that mean, exactly?” “It means I’m an understanding guy,” he shot back. “What do you expect me to do, Cooper? My father’s out on bail, my mother was just harassed by criminals, and you want me to go waltzing around America without a backward glance, without any kind of plan.” “But that’s the whole point. That’s the beauty of it, not to make any plans, to just go where the road takes you.”

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“But I need to know where the road takes me.” “Hey, I’m not forcing you to come with me. I already told you, I’m aware of your reasons, and I sympathize. Now, will you forget about that for a second? What about this?” “This?” “I hate this.” Cooper swept the handcuffs off the table and shook them in my face. “I hate the fact that there are creeps out there who can break into your apartment, follow you around, threaten you with guns and handcuff you to tables. This has to stop.” He took a deep breath and added, “I’m calling the police.” Now I was mad. “May I remind you again that Che could shoot me for ratting on him before the police ever find him? Then there’s the fact that I agreed to work with him, which makes me a willing participant.” “Bullshit,” Cooper spat out. “You had no choice but to agree to do his dirty work for him. You were trying to save your ass. He’s a killer, for Christ’s sake.” “You don’t need to remind me. I’ve been on the receiving end of his life of crime, remember?” “Hannah, you do want you want, but I’m reporting that bastard to the cops.” “You can’t.” “Watch me,” Cooper replied. “’Cause the next time could be the last time. You could end up dead. This isn’t a game. You’ve gotten involved with felons because of me. I don’t want that sitting on my conscience if anything happens to you.” “Oh, I see,” I replied, indignant. “So if somebody shoots me, you want to make sure it isn’t your fault?” Cooper heaved a sigh. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. I love you. We have something special. You have to be more careful. You can’t go waltzing around with criminals anymore.” My mother had come out of the bathroom and was tidying

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up her painting supplies, acting like she didn’t notice there were two people having a heated argument in the middle of her studio. “You think I enjoy hanging out with criminals? You’re acting like I make these things happen on purpose,” I hissed. “And by the way, just because there’s something special between us, doesn’t mean I should change my life. I am who I am. If you don’t like what’s happening around me, nobody’s forcing you to stick around.” Cooper recoiled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It means I’ve spent the last hour handcuffed to a table, and I’ve learned some very upsetting facts about my mother’s past. All you’ve done is threaten to call the police and demand that I stop cavorting with killers, as if I had any choice. Well, do me a favor, why don’t you go crawl underneath a car and leave me the hell alone?” “Fine, I will!” Cooper yelled at the top of his lungs. “Fine, go!” I yelled louder. Cooper spun on his heel and stormed out. My mother came up behind me and rested her hand gently on my shoulder. “Trouble in paradise?” I burst into tears. “What an asshole.” “You don’t mean that.” “Creep.” “You love him, don’t you?” “Jerk.” “That’s what I thought.” She sighed. “Come on, let’s go home.” I followed my mother to her house and stayed a few hours to make sure Che didn’t reappear. He didn’t, so we decided he must have found his unhappy employee and dealt with him accordingly, something I didn’t want to think about. I drove home and plodded up the stairs to my apartment, wishing I still

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had the .22 revolver hidden in my storage room. I was in the mood to shoot someone. After a thorough search under my bed and in all my closets, I decided there was nobody hiding anywhere. There was a first time for everything.

Tiffany arrived at eight-thirty the following morning in plenty of time to open the shop, and it was hard to wipe the smile off her face. Even my foul mood and obsessive cleaning rituals did nothing to dampen her spirits. “Do you want to talk about it?” “Talk about what?” I asked as I pulled a bottle of sesame oil off the shelf and dusted it with a damp cloth. “You and Cooper.” “What about me and Cooper?” “Well, you’re obviously upset about something.” I replaced the sesame oil and grabbed a bottle of rice vinegar. “Me? I’m not upset about anything. Nothing Cooper says or does has any effect on me.” “Whatever,” Tiffany said as she flounced away from me. I’d just finished rearranging our entire collection of Chinese herbs, alphabetically, when Tiffany called from the front cash. “Hannah, come here.” “What is it? I’m really busy, Tiff. I have to top up the bin of rolled oats.” “So I guess you won’t care that Cooper just pulled up in the sexiest motorcycle I’ve ever seen?” My heart did a drum roll. I flew up the aisle to the counter, chanting, “Mirror. I need a mirror.” Tiffany reached into her purse and pulled out a silver, shellshaped compact. I grabbed it from her, opened it and examined my reflection, trying to ignore her sarcastic sneers.

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“Nothing Cooper says or does has any effect on me,” Tiffany taunted in a falsetto voice. I stuck my tongue out at her and gave her back the compact. By the time Cooper walked in the door, his knapsack slung over his shoulder, I had assumed a casual pose, leaning against the counter, legs crossed. I held my inventory binder tightly to my chest to keep my hands from trembling. “Oh, hello Cooper,” I greeted him casually. Tiffany rolled her eyes. He nodded. “Hey.” “What can I get you?” He gave me a vacant look and replied, “I’m not here to buy anything.” “Then why are you here?” I asked as Tiffany drummed her fingers on the counter. Cooper raised an eyebrow in a questioning slant. “Thought we could talk.” The bell on the door tinkled, and a woman walked in. Tiffany finally lost her patience with me. “Okay, you two, into the storage room. Trust me, there’s plenty of space in there for you to kiss and make up. I’ve got a customer to serve.” She herded us to the back like a sheep dog, shoved us into the storage room and left us there gaping at each other. I listened to the muted chatter of Tiffany and the customer, and my mind went blank. “So you haven’t cooled off yet, huh?” Cooper said. I tried to chuckle, but it sounded more like a snicker. “I’m very cool.” “Right. So cool your hands are sweating.” I looked down at my inventory binder, and sure enough, I could see my handprint on the plastic cover. I tossed the binder on top of a sack of whole-wheat flour and glared at him. “Well, I just don’t see the point, that’s all,” I snapped. “If

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you don’t like the way things are, there’s not a heck of lot I can do about it.” Cooper studied me in silence. I waited for him to walk away and never come back. I was the eye in a vortex of misfortune, and I understood if Cooper didn’t want to get sucked into the madness. Even if he did stick around, which I doubted he would do since he was a drifter, who would want to have me as the mother of their children? Cooper leaned toward me. “If you don’t—and I mean really don’t want this—tell me when you’re not angry. I know you’ve had a bad time. I know you’re worried about your parents. I know you’re scared. Well, I’m scared too, but maybe you’re right, maybe this is too nuts. You wanna call it quits, I’ll split, no problem. But you’d better be sure it’s what you really want. ‘Cause if I leave, it’ll be for good.” My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. There was a stray curl hanging over his forehead that begged for someone to touch it. He wore a black leather jacket and faded jeans. He drove an incredible looking Harley. He looked good enough to eat. Now that I’d had a taste, I couldn’t stop wanting more. “What do you want?” I countered, my voice calmer. “It’s not only up to me, is it? What exactly do I get out of this relationship? A broken heart? ‘Cause you could disappear in a cloud of Harley exhaust any minute.” Cooper shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the floor. “I wouldn’t do that if I thought there was a chance you’d come with me.” His eyes flew to mine. “Is there? A chance?” What was I supposed to say? Sure there was a chance. A snowball’s chance in hell, but a chance all the same. Because if I said there was no chance, it’d be over, right here, right now. At that moment, the only thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want it to be over.

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“Of course there’s a chance,” I replied quietly. “But it doesn’t have to be like that.” “It doesn’t?” “You could stay.” Cooper hitched in a breath, as though I’d stabbed him in the gut. “So you’ve decided for sure you’re not coming with me?” “I’m just throwing out another possibility, that’s all.” “I realize that, but I need an answer first. I mean, once you’re happy with things here, you know, your parents and everything, what about then? Would you consider leaving?” Cooper already knew the answer to that, and so did I. I wasn’t the kind of person who could handle life on the road. I’d be miserable. So why was Cooper asking me again? My heart squeezed with terror. He was asking me again because this was the only way we could be together. Because he wasn’t staying in Normal. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” I whispered. “With or without me.” The lines in his face deepened, and he suddenly looked older. “Come with me, Hannah,” he pleaded softly. “I’ll wait, but I need to know you’ll come with me.” “And if I can’t?” The answer was there in his eyes. The sharp, stinging regret I saw there washed over me like a giant tidal wave of heartbreak. I had to save myself from drowning. “I’m not saying I can’t,” I added, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “It’s just a question. A hypothetical one.” Cooper grasped at the lifeline I’d just thrown at our relationship, even though he must have known we were both kidding ourselves. “Well, if you couldn’t, we’d work something out,” he said, sounding vaguely optimistic.

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“Oh, I’m sure we could,” I replied, feeling like I was in the middle of some weird chess game, and I was the queen, pursued by a knight who was in a position to knock me down, but didn’t want to, preferring to avoid the inevitable. “I don’t want to push you, either,” Cooper went on, “it’s just…everything that’s happened the last few days, it’s making me nuts.” “I try to be careful,” I insisted. “I really don’t understand why all this is happening.” “Don’t you see, Hannah? It’s not you, it’s me.” I shuddered at his poor choice of words. The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line is a death knell for any relationship, but maybe Cooper didn’t know that. I chose to believe he didn’t know. “What do you mean?” “This whole thing started because I crawled into your car. This is all my fault. I’m the reason for your bad hair. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” “I’ve had bad hair for years. You said yourself if those goons hadn’t beaten you up we’d never have met each other, so it hasn’t been all bad, has it?” The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “No, not all bad.” “Did you talk to the police about Che?” He flushed. “I’m going to, but I’d prefer it if you came with me. The cops are going to ask a lot of questions, and you’re the only one who has the answers. Word on the street is they’ve been after this dude for months. I think there’s a long list of people who could rat on him. You’re not alone.” “But then I’ll have to admit I broke into Jackson’s office, and you’ll have to admit you dumped that dead body.” “Hannah, I just think it’s time we came clean. I don’t want this hanging over our heads.” If you decide to leave town, you mean.

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“Besides,” Cooper reasoned, “Jackson’s as good as caught. I think the fact that you broke into his office is no big deal compared to the other shit they’ve got going down.” I became aware of a familiar, tantalizing scent. “What’s that smell?” “Oh yeah, I forgot.” Cooper slid his knapsack off his shoulder onto the floor and reached inside. He pulled out a brown paper bag. “I brought you something.” The bag had grease stains on it. He opened the bag and held it out for me to smell. My mouth formed an O. “You brought me Jimmy John’s fries?” Cooper just smiled. The two things I loved most in the world, Cooper and fries, were right in front of me. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, had no idea what the future held, but I knew one thing. No way could I let this man walk out of my life. Not today. I pulled a French fry out of the bag and smiled back at him. “Well, you’re very clever, aren’t you? You think I can’t possibly stay mad if you offer me French fries.” “All’s fair in love and war.” “Is this love, or war?” “Maybe a bit of both.” I was tired of talking about our problems, and I could sense Cooper was too. He moved closer, bent his head and kissed me, gently nipping my bottom lip with his teeth. Desire curled in my belly. He tasted like salt and potatoes. I was done like dinner. We could have made love right there in the storage room. I knew without a doubt we wouldn’t be the first couple to do it there, but I didn’t want to take any chances on being interrupted, and the way my luck had been going, Tiffany would need another sack of oat bran, or something, and I didn’t relish the thought of being caught with my pants down.

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So I dragged Cooper upstairs with me instead. Tiffany seemed relieved when I told her I’d be taking the rest of the day off, since I only got in her way most of the time. She’d already agreed to carry on without me for the afternoon so I could meet with Uncle Forrest and my mother to talk about the uncertain future. So that gave me two hours to spend with Cooper. We made love on the couch, and devoured the French fries. Cooper listened while I told him my mother’s story. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. When I cried about it, he kissed away my tears and held me. We lay tangled in each other’s arms, neither one of us saying much, knowing that words complicated everything. But I could feel time ticking away like a bomb, and a deep sadness settled over me at the thought that someday I’d wake up and Cooper would be gone. “What time is your meeting?” “Two o’clock.” “I’ll take you,” Cooper said, linking his fingers with mine. “You don’t have to.” “I know.” “But it could take a while.” “I’ll wait.” My breath caught when he nibbled the inside of my wrist. “You think I’ll get into trouble, don’t you?” “I didn’t say that.” “You don’t have to say it, I know what you’re thinking.” “Shut up, Hannah.” He kissed me and stuck his tongue down my throat to make sure I couldn’t speak. It worked really well. We hopped on the Harley at one forty-five, and I have to admit, I’d only ridden on it twice and already I was falling in love with the sensation of freedom it gave me. Cooper weaved

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and dipped around traffic, flew on the straight stretches and leaned into corners until I squealed with delight. He enjoyed showing off, and I could tell he was pleased that the Harley had my stamp of approval. We drove up to the front of Uncle Forrest’s office, and I climbed off. He reached forward to turn off the ignition, but I put my hand out to stop him. “You don’t really need to wait around, you know. My mother could take me home.” “No.” “You need to trust me, Cooper,” I said softly. “I’ll be careful. Why don’t you come over later, and I’ll make us some dinner?” “You cook?” I hedged. I didn’t want to get him too excited over my culinary skills. I could pour a can of spaghetti sauce over pasta, make an omelet and toast, and fry bologna. “Sure, I cook. Doesn’t everyone?” Cooper grinned. “Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.” I nodded to the receptionist in the front of the office and found Uncle Forrest and my mother waiting for me in the conference room. My mother wore a simple black dress that made her look like she was going out to dinner, instead of meeting with her lawyer. Her hair and make-up were flawless, as usual, and she gave me a brave smile when I sat down beside her. Uncle Forrest wore a dull, gray suit, and looked grim. “I can’t lie to you, Jasmine. It doesn’t look good. Even though you had no idea a robbery was being committed, the fact that you continued to make payments on the vault to hide the stolen money makes you look like a willing participant, which shows intent.” My mother pressed her hands to her temples. “What am I looking at, bottom line?”

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“I’ll do my best, you know that,” Uncle Forrest said, his expression sympathetic. “You don’t have a criminal record, except for a few student protest skirmishes way back when. You’re an upstanding citizen of the community, and you had a reasonable explanation for your actions. I’ll try to plea bargain down the armed robbery charge. I think we’re looking at a year or two of jail time, or maybe supervision, if we get lucky.” I swallowed my tears and tried to be brave. Both my parents could be in the slammer by Christmas time. My mother’s eyes welled up, and she nodded stoically. “Forrest, do we know what Jackson’s connection is to this Federal payroll robbery?” My uncle leaned back in his chair. “Word is that ten days ago the vault company you were using, Safe-Tee Vaults, was robbed. Police think it was an inside job. The thieves used a hydraulic jack to drill through the floor from the basement and got away with the contents of several vaults. “The police caught them and recovered the stolen material. Most of the contents were claimed, but not all of it. The police made a list of the remaining vault owners, based on fingerprint evidence of the contents, since the paperwork about the owners vanished during the break-in.” Alarms went off in my head. “When the police opened Jasmine’s vault, they found the cash, traced the serials, and realized it was the stolen money from the nineteen sixty-nine robbery. That’s when the Feds got interested. But Jackson’s crooked cop friends threw the Feds off your trail for a while, so they could help themselves to the money, which was kept in the police evidence room. Apparently they’ve made a habit of doing that. When Jackson started spending the money, the FBI tailed him.” “Jackson’s secretary claims he was selling police information,” I said.

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My uncle nodded. “Jackson’s office contained police files he had no business having in his possession. Internal affairs is involved, and I imagine the shit’s gonna hit the fan.” “Jackson knew some of his documents were missing, but didn’t know which ones,” I said as comprehension dawned. “Jackson suspected his secretary was stealing from him. When she met Cooper at the bar last Friday night, Jackson’s men figured he was the buyer.” Uncle Forrest nodded. “What they wanted was the list of the vault owners who never came forward to collect the contents of their vaults.” I knew the names by heart. “B. Donavan, S. Bernard, E. Wheeler, J. Drummond, and J. Hailstone.” I had assumed the ‘J’ was my father, not my mother. “Why haven’t the other vaults been claimed?” Uncle Forrest shrugged. “Joe Drummond’s been out of town. The others either haven’t gotten around to it, or don’t want to come forward. You’d be surprised what people hide in vaults.” When the meeting was finally over, my brain was pounding so badly inside my head I was sure it was going to explode. Uncle Forrest must have seen the look on my face because he mustered up a smile and did his best to sound upbeat, but as I climbed into my mother ’s car, I couldn’t hide my discouragement. My thoughts whirled like a tornado, and my heart ached. My whole life, I’d managed to keep my wacky parents out of trouble. Now, in all likelihood, they would both be sent to jail. I’d failed them. I couldn’t even cry. The tears were stuck in a giant ball in the middle of my throat. “You’re quiet, Hannah.” “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be cheering you up,” I said in a shaky voice. Mom drove in silence a while, and when we stopped at a

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red light, she turned toward me with a sad smile. “Are you ashamed of me?” I stared at her. “How can you say that?” She shrugged. “It’s not hard, under the circumstances.” “I don’t care,” I cried. “You’re the bravest, classiest, most beautiful mother there is.” My mother nodded and dabbed the corner of her eye with her knuckle. “Well, I think you’re exaggerating, but thanks anyway. I’ve got a great idea. Let’s go to the mall.” “The mall?” “Sure. I don’t want to think about jail anymore. Besides, I may as well make the most of the freedom I have. Do you need anything at the store?” I realized my cupboards were most likely bare, since I’d spent very little time in my apartment the last few days. A trip to the grocery store wouldn’t be a bad idea. We wandered through the mall but before we reached the grocery store, my mother dragged me into Lou’s Shoe Warehouse and bought herself a pair of Italian leather slingback pumps. My mother’s always had a shoe fetish. “If I’m going down, I’m going down looking good,” my mother murmured as she checked herself out in the store mirror. We bought some ice cream to cheer ourselves up, and finally I picked up some frozen lasagna, a bag of salad and crusty bread. Cooper could have me for dessert. We stopped off at the liquor store, and I bought some red wine for me, and beer for Cooper. I had a feeling he wasn’t a wine drinker. As we headed home, heavy clouds tumbled overhead and sprinkled their first drops of rain, darkening the late afternoon earlier than usual. When we pulled into the parking lot behind my shop, the sky opened and it started to pour. I gave my mother a big hug, grabbed my bag of groceries and sprinted to the back door. I fumbled with my key and stomped up the stairs to my

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apartment. I’d have time to feed King Arthur and have a quick shower before Cooper arrived. I took two steps into my living room and froze. Jackson held King Arthur in his left hand and a gun in his right. “About time you showed up,” he said coolly. Note to self: Number one, buy an alarm system. It was way too easy for people to get in and out of my apartment. Number two, get rid of my cat. The King was actually purring. He never purred when I picked him up, the traitor. The breath left my lungs from my jaunt up the stairs and my fright at seeing Jackson in my living room. I slowly eased my grocery bag to the floor and tried to act casual. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in custody by now.” Jackson scowled. “No thanks to you, bitch.” Blood pounded in my ears. “Me? What did I do?” “You nosed around my office. Your boyfriend spilled his guts to the Feds. Now your father’s gone to the police.” “Well, if you haven’t done anything illegal, you won’t have to worry, will you?” I pointed out as my knees quaked. “I won’t have to worry if I’m a thousand miles away, either.” Believe me, a thousand miles away is where I’d like you to be this very minute. I gestured toward the door. “Well, have a nice trip.” “I need money.” Of course he did. Doesn’t everyone? “All I’ve got is a couple of twenties. I don’t think that would get you very far.” “Lying bitch. You’ve got at least a couple of grand that Che gave you.” I felt faint. “How do you know that?” “I’m psychic. Now go get the money or I’ll blow your head off.”

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Terror walloped me in the stomach. I didn’t have the money anymore, and I strongly suspected Jackson wouldn’t believe me when I told him. I stalled, desperate for a way out. “What happened to the ten grand I gave you?” “Che and I split it.” At my questioning look, he added, “I got bills to pay. It’s all gone. Now are you going to get me the money or not?” Not. I cleared my throat. “The truth is, Che’s money has already been picked up.” We stared at each other. Jackson just smiled. “Wrong answer.” Sweat poured off me. “You can take the cat if you want. He seems to like you. He’s mostly purebred. You could probably get a couple of hundred for him.” Jackson held out his left arm. King Arthur jumped to the floor and padded into the kitchen. That left Jackson holding just the gun, which made him look more sinister all of a sudden, if that were possible. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? Lena says you really know how to fight.” “Lena?” “My secretary.” Miss Bun. “Yeah well, tell her she’s no slouch herself.” Jackson strolled around the room, keeping one eye on me. I took two steps toward the kitchen, even though I knew I’d never reach the phone. “You have quite an act going, Hailstone. You play dumb, and it’s pretty convincing. Truth is, you’re smarter than I figured.” Jackson must have gone to the same school as Wesley: Talking in Riddles 101. “Look, I’m sorry about the money.”

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“Are you also sorry about the fake documents?” Oops. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed with contempt. “You must think I’m stupid.” “But I didn’t—” Jackson’s eyes glazed over. “I’m not going to argue with you. I don’t have time for that.” Something dripped on my carpet. It came from inside Jackson’s jacket. I stared in horror. “You’re bleeding.” “Very observant of you.” “You should get that looked at.” There was a funny rumbling sound and Jackson began to cough. He hacked and wheezed, but kept his eyes, and his gun, trained on me. He completed his coughing fit by spitting something large and dark on my floor. Ugh. “I intend to. As soon as I finish here.” Jackson pointed the gun, aimed it at my chest, and fired.

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didn’t know I could fly, but somehow I did. I dove into the air, sailed over my couch, and landed behind it with a thud. Another shot rang out, and a jolt of terror sent me crawling through the beaded curtains to the kitchen, in shock that I wasn’t dead. I had to get to the phone. Incredibly, Jackson had missed me, again, but he wouldn’t miss a third time. Tears flooded my eyes. I held my breath and braced for the bullet, the pain, the end of everything. I tugged on the phone cord and pulled the phone off the counter. I lay on the floor and punched in 9-1-1. After I barked my address at the operator, I hid my head under my arms and waited for death to come. Several minutes passed. My life flashed before my eyes. My first day of school, my dog Teddy. Necking in the back of Tommy McCutcheon’s pick up. The prom. Drinking too many beers at my twenty-first birthday party. Law school. Cooper. Oh, Cooper. More minutes passed. More silence. I lifted my head. No sound came from the living room.

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Jackson was waiting for me to come back, and then he was going to pop me. That was it. He was playing a cat and mouse game. But he had said he was in a hurry. That he was going to leave as soon as he finished with me. What was taking him so long? Was he going to kill me, or what? I was growing impatient. I couldn’t stand lying on the kitchen floor anymore, waiting for death. I wanted to know what I was dealing with. I got back on my hands and knees and had almost reached the doorway when I finally heard footsteps. A large pair of black loafers appeared in front of me. I closed my eyes and held my breath. A hand touched my shoulder and I screamed. “Hey,” a familiar voice said, “take it easy. You’re safe now.” I lifted my head and stared. Wes Wesley stared back. “I never thought I’d be glad to see you,” I breathed as he helped me to my feet. “Gee, that was almost a compliment. Thanks.” “What happened?” “My timing is impeccable,” Wesley said proudly. “I got tired of waiting for you to call me with an update, so I thought I’d drop by to see if you’d learned anything. The door was open, and when I saw that goon take a shot at you, I took care of business.” Jackson lay on the carpet. He wasn’t going to shoot anyone else. His eyes were open and milky, and they gazed out toward nothingness. “Is he dead?” I whispered. “As a doornail,” Wesley said. “I checked. So what’s the story? He a jealous ex-boyfriend?” “As if,” I said, disgusted. “He’s a criminal, wanted by the police and the FBI.”

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Wesley looked very pleased with himself. “Been a while since I’ve seen any action. Have to say, I sorta missed it.” Five minutes later, two uniformed police officers burst in, guns drawn. Cooper was right behind them. “Jesus, Hannah,” Cooper said. When the police saw Wesley’s gun, hasty explanations and introductions were necessary. Once everyone was clear on who everybody was, the police switched into crime scene mode and left Cooper, Wesley and me alone until the detectives arrived. Cooper folded me into his arms as Wesley caught my eye. “So I guess this is your real boyfriend then?” Wesley asked. I nodded, and introduced them. “Cooper, this is Wesley, the PI from Ohio I told you about.” They shook hands. “I’m very grateful for what you did, Mr. Wesley,” Cooper said solemnly. “I don’t know how to thank you.” “Don’t mention it,” Wesley said, obviously happy with his new role as hero. Since Wesley had saved my life, it seemed only fair to invite him into my kitchen, away from the sight of the corpse on my living room floor. Cooper made coffee for us while I told Wesley my mother’s story. “Well,” Wesley said finally as he scratched his head. “Guess that explains everything, then. My sister-in-law will be glad to know the truth.” “The money in the account belongs to your sister-in-law, of course. My mother wouldn’t try to keep it.” Wesley shrugged. “Could be that my sister-in-law will want your mother to have it. After all, it was a joint account that Mickey set up for her before he died. A man doesn’t do that unless he wants to. Your mother obviously loved him a lot, seeing as she still visits his grave. I’ll put in a good word in for her.”

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I smiled. “You’re a nice man, Wes Wesley. If there’s ever anything you need, you only have to ask.” “I’ll be sure to do that,” Wesley said. “I think I’ll see if the boys in blue need a hand out there. I used to hang out at a lot of crime scenes, in my younger days.” Wesley pushed through my beaded curtains and Cooper and I stared at each other. I fell in to his arms and allowed myself a good cry. I completely soaked the front of Cooper’s shirt before I finally pulled away, sniffing. “Jackson came for Che’s money.” Cooper was still white with shock. “You sure you’re okay?” “I am now.” “Christ,” Cooper muttered. “When is this going to end?” I had no answer. Cooper’s world had been calm and carefree before he met me. He’d ridden around without a care in the world. Now his life was nothing but one disaster after another. The lump of dread in my heart told me that even if Cooper did stick around, he’d eventually regret staying, and end up hating me for asking him to. “How long do these bad hair days of yours usually last?” I put on a brave face. “Not this long, usually. This is weird. Must be a bad planet alignment, or something.” We held each other in thoughtful silence and waited for the detectives and the coroner’s office to swarm my apartment. “Jackson found out the documents were fake,” I told Cooper. “He was angry that you and my father ratted on him.” “We weren’t the only ones. If anyone else wants to rat on Jackson, they’ll have to take a number,” Cooper said. “He has a long list of enemies.” “Somebody shot him. He was bleeding all over my carpet.” Cooper nodded. “I overheard the police say they caught him in a shoot-out a few hours ago. He’s on their most wanted list. They had him on the run, but lost him.”

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When the detectives arrived they extended an invitation for Cooper, Wesley and I to visit the Normal Police Department, urged on by the FBI’s investigation of the payroll heist. Cooper and I rode there on his bike, and Wesley hitched a ride in the police car. He was probably tired of explaining the pink Caddy. I called Tiffany from the police station and asked if she would look after King Arthur for a few days, figuring my mother had enough to deal with. Then I called Uncle Forrest who rushed over to sit first with me, and then Cooper, while separate interrogations took place. It’s very handy having a relative in an important community position. Someone gave me liquid mud disguised as coffee, and I answered every question the police and the Feds asked me. The police seemed surprised at the amount of information I knew: the whereabouts of Jackson’s hidden office and stolen car operation, and a vivid description of the flunkies who’d beaten Cooper and stolen his motorcycle. When I described Che’s hideout and the men who worked for him, the detective’s eyes almost popped out. I didn’t leave out the part about Che killing one of his men and leaving the body in my apartment, either. Needless to say, the detective wasn’t impressed by my account of what happened to the dead body. After what seemed hours, they had finally run out of questions, and Uncle Forrest and I were left alone in the room. “When this family decides to get into trouble, they don’t fool around, do they?” Uncle Forrest muttered under his breath. “At this rate I’ll need to hire more staff.” His hair stood straight up in wisps. Maybe I wasn’t the only one in the family with bad hair days. “Look on the bright side, Uncle Forrest, your practice will thrive.” “I just wish you hadn’t all decided to break the law in the same week.”

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“Could Cooper go to jail for that dead body dumping thing?” Uncle Forrest shook his head. “Once an autopsy shows the man’s time of death coincides with the facts of your statement, he should be off the hook. They may try to pin a ‘tampering with a corpse’ charge on him, but I can plead that he’s young and stupid, didn’t know any better, and was trying to protect you.” I wasn’t sure I liked someone calling the man I loved stupid, but if it kept him out of jail, I guess it was okay. Finally I was allowed to leave and found Cooper waiting for me in the lobby of the precinct. His face was lined with fatigue, and he didn’t look at all like the carefree drifter he used to be. Is this what I’d done to him? “Hey.” “Hi,” I answered wearily. He threw his arm around my shoulders and we walked together out to the parking lot. “Do you realize we’ve known each other exactly one week and one day?” Cooper asked. “Only that long? It seems longer.” We reached the bike, and Cooper looked at me earnestly, as though he had something important to say. My stomach turned upside down and I held my breath. This was it. This was the part where Cooper decided it was better if he hopped on a bus and rolled on down the highway. For some reason, reruns of old movies played in my head. All the great goodbye scenes. Bogie and Bergman at the airport. Gable and Leigh on the staircase. Hailstone and West in the parking lot of the police station. “It’s been a rough day. Don’t you think it’s been a rough day?” I sputtered. He gave me a strange look. “Yeah, it sure has.”

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I figured the longer I babbled the less chance Cooper had to dump me. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” “Not really, but if you are, we could go get something.” I nodded frantically. “Yes. Yes, let’s go eat something.” “Okay. I left my knapsack at the garage. Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

We couldn’t go back to my apartment since it was now officially a crime scene. I was glad because I couldn’t deal with Jackson’s bloodstains on my carpet, not tonight. Cooper drove the Harley through the large doors of Tyler’s. The garage was almost empty of cars now and when Cooper killed the engine and we hopped off, our footsteps echoed in the semi-darkness. “I’ll be right back,” Cooper said, and disappeared into a corner office. I wandered around the place feeling queasy and nervous. Jackson was dead. My parent’s fate was pretty much sealed. Life was going back to normal. But I knew my life would never be normal again. Falling in love with Cooper had changed everything. When Cooper came out, I felt compelled to babble again, just in case this was the place he’d chosen to break up with me. “What’s that?” I pointed to a large red box, the size of a Volkswagen, in one corner. “A toolbox.” My eyes popped open. “A toolbox? Do you think it’s big enough?” Cooper shrugged, as though he didn’t get why a toolbox the size of half my shop should surprise anyone. I glanced around. “Where’s Grease?”

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“Gone home. I just said goodbye to Rob, the other mechanic. I told him I’d lock up. It’s the least I can do since I’ve taken so much time off this week.” I frowned. “Could you lose your job?” “I dunno.” And he probably cared less, I thought with envy. Things like that didn’t faze Cooper. All he had to do was drive to the next town and offer his skills to someone else. I didn’t like the direction my thoughts were taking, so I looked around for something else to talk about. I watched Cooper shut off the lights on one side of the garage and lock the office door, then nodded to a large lump by my feet. “What’s that?” Cooper whipped off the canvas cover. “It’s a motor. I tinker with it in my spare time.” I blinked. “You have spare time?” “Well, I used to, before I met you,” Cooper said. Bad idea, talking about before and after meeting anyone. It allowed a person to make comparisons, and they could decide they liked their life better before. “That’s very interesting,” I rambled on. “It must be very rewarding being able to fix motors.” Cooper slanted me a strange look. “What the hell is with you, anyway?” I swallowed hard. “Nothing. Nothing is with me.” “You talk a lot when you’re nervous. What are you nervous about? You don’t have to worry about Jackson anymore, babe. Or Che. That’s over. They can’t hurt you anymore.” “I know.” But you sure can. “Maybe you need a distraction,” Cooper murmured, taking a step closer and putting his arms around me. I sure as hell did. When he kissed me my body reacted with a familiar jolt of bliss. He ran his hands up under my shirt, blazing a trail of heat

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on my skin. He slipped his fingers into the front of my jeans and undid the top button. My bliss turned to terror. This could be our last time together. Cooper lived his dream. His dream was to fly wherever he wanted to. I was holding him back, making him stay when he wanted to go. I didn’t know why, or how, but coming close to death had made me realize something. I was desperately unhappy as the manager of Herb & Al’s Herbals. “What’s wrong?” Cooper asked against my mouth. “You don’t want to?” “Yes,” I whispered, and pushed the dangerous thoughts away. “Of course I want to.” Cooper smiled. “You ever done it in a garage?” “No, have you?” “No.” Finally, something for us to discover together. Cooper eyes danced as he looked over my shoulder. “I have a really good idea.” He charged over to the garage doors and shut both of them. Then he picked me up, carried me to the Harley, and placed me gently on the leather seat. My eyes flew open when he pulled my sweater over my head. “On the bike?” I squealed in happy horror. “Oh, yeah,” Cooper said as he stripped off his jacket and shirt. I’m pretty athletic, and so was Cooper. This was a good thing since making love on a motorcycle, we discovered, required a delicate series of maneuvers that demanded balance, finesse and coordination. I treasured all of it: the smell and taste of him, his mouth on my skin, the sinew of his muscles under my fingers, the

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pulsing of his body deep inside mine. He was hard and tender, soft and firm, and so much a part of me now. I wondered, miserably, how I was supposed to live without him. When we’d had our fill of each other, we languished on the seat, Cooper facing forward on the leather, and I facing backwards perched on the chrome, panting and sweating, gazing into each other’s eyes. “I’ll never be able to ride this thing again without remembering this, remembering you,” Cooper said softly. Cold comfort. I’d end up a distant memory, a notch on his bedpost. Or his gas tank, in this case. So I let my tears fall. I could have held them in, but what was the point? If he was leaving me, he should see the destruction he’d caused before he rode off into the sunset. As expected, Cooper was concerned and completely bewildered. He leaned forward and grabbed my arms. “What?” I only cried harder and stared at the ceiling. Now that the floodgates had opened, I couldn’t stop. “Baby, talk to me. What is it?” Crying works well in its initial stages, since the crier looks dainty and pretty and sad. But in its later stages, the crier is an ugly lump of puffy eyes and a congested red nose in desperate need of a hanky. When Cooper realized I wasn’t going to answer, he hopped off and appeared to be searching for something. A few moments later he shoved a bunch of paper towels at me. “Thanks,” I sniffled. I busied myself with blowing my nose while I listened to Cooper get dressed. He wrapped my shirt around my shoulders, and then his jacket. His thoughtfulness only made me sadder. “I’m better now, thanks,” I mumbled as I fidgeted with the wad of damp paper towels.

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Cooper stood like a stone beside me, his eyes huge. “I know what this is about.” “Oh.” Like me, Cooper had realized there was no point pretending anymore. We were on separate paths, and maybe it was finally time we faced the truth. “Hannah, sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do. But we’ll be okay. You and me, it’s been fantastic. The best. You’ll always be in my heart. I hope you feel the same way.” My heart shriveled up into a tight knot. I nodded. “I’ll never forget you,” Cooper said, his voice cracking. “How could I? Hot fudge sundae, right?” Then he turned his back on me and walked away. I stayed on the Harley and clutched my shirt and his jacket around me, still naked from the waist down. Damn, the chrome was getting cold, but I didn’t feel like moving. What the hell? If I stayed here long enough, Cooper would be forced to take me with him. I’d be like one of those maidenheads on ships, except I’d be real. I’d stay half-naked, like some twisted mermaid, a monument to every woman who has ever been dumped. ‘This is my ex,’ Cooper would say. ‘She took our break-up really hard.’ As I sat in the shadows of the garage, surrounded by the smell of oil, gasoline and metal, I decided I couldn’t waste one more minute of my life doing something I didn’t want to do. If I couldn’t have Cooper, I damn well wanted something to call my own. Anything. I just needed to find it, and I would. My butt cramped up, so I wiggled off the bike and shook my legs awake. I glanced around and saw Cooper standing in the gloomy corner, watching me. I shrugged off the jacket and shirt, picked up my bra and panties and put them on. When I’d finished dressing I tried out my voice.

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“Could you take me to my Mom’s?” “Sure.” Cooper walked up to me, still staring. I stared back. His eyes were red. “Have you been crying?” Cooper cleared his throat. “Yeah. What do you expect?” I figured Cooper would be a little sad, a little nostalgic, maybe, but to cry? “I didn’t expect that.” “Then you don’t know me very well.” I didn’t take any comfort in the fact that our break up would be hard on him too. It only confused me more, and thinking about it was too painful. Cooper opened up the garage door, rolled the Harley out, and locked up again. Soon we were on the road. It was late, I had no idea what time it was and I didn’t care. First thing in the morning I was calling Herb, or Al, whoever answered the phone, to tell them I quit. I panicked briefly, but refused to give in to it. I was young, healthy and smart. I’d find something else, maybe in another city or another state, anywhere but here. As for my parents, I’d tried to save them, but couldn’t. They had their journey ahead of them, their baggage to carry. This was my journey, and it was time to carry my own bags.

The Harley’s motor purred like an alley cat in my mother’s driveway and filled the silence between us. In my misery, I didn’t think I could get off the bike, so I stayed where I was, toying with the idea of inviting Cooper in for coffee, just to keep him with me a little longer, which was totally lame, but I was too upset to care. But I didn’t get a chance to invite him anywhere. He heaved a deep sigh and looked over his left shoulder. “Look,” Cooper said savagely, “if you’re gonna go, go.”

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My mouth dropped to my knees. Anger gave me the strength I needed to slide off the seat and face him. “You...you goddamn bastard! How dare you speak to me that way?” I shoved his shoulder, hard. “Get off that bike, now.” Cooper blinked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “Get off that stupid bike ‘cause I’m going to kick your stupid, unfeeling, insensitive ass.” Cooper wrenched the engine off. “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s not enough for you to dump me?” Cooper hopped to the ground. “Fine. Go ahead. Beat the crap out of me, I’m used to it. You stomped all over my heart, you may as well finish off the rest of me.” Somewhere in the fog of my brain, a lighthouse switched on. “I dumped you? What in God’s name are you talking about? You’re the one who’s leaving.” “No, I’m not!” “Yes, you…” I paused, my eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You…you’re not?” “No.” “But you said...I thought…” Cooper shoved both hands through his hair. “Are you telling me you’re not breaking it off?” “Of course not. How could you think that?” Cooper paced the driveway, and stopped. “Because you started bawling for no reason at all. What was I supposed to think? You’d already told me we’re too different, and I kept asking you to leave your family. I figured you wanted out.” “No, no, but…” I scratched my head as my heart came to life again. “You said you’d never be able to ride a Harley again without remembering us, remembering me.” Cooper’s face was a study in shock. “So? I never said I was leaving.”

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“You never said you were staying, either. You said you thought my bad hair days were your fault and that it made you nuts.” “Yes, but you don’t want to leave, do you?” “I…well…I mean…” Cooper shook his head in exasperation. “You don’t have to do that.” “Do what?” “Pretend you want to leave.” “But—” “Hannah, will you please let me tell you what I’ve been wanting to tell you all evening? I’m staying.” “What?” “You heard me.” I froze. “I can’t let you do that.” “You’re not letting me do it, I want to do it.” “Why?” “Because I love you. I want to be with you.” My heart sang, but I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “But what about your dream?” “What dream?” “To go wherever you want to, on a Harley.” “I don’t own a Harley anymore.” “You know what I mean.” Cooper shrugged. “My dreams have changed.” “They have?” “Now I want to go wherever you go,” Cooper said as he pulled me to him. “I could have lost you tonight, Hannah. It gave me a wake-up call.” “Are you sure about this? You’ve seen the way things can be around here.” “Yeah, I have. I think that’s part of the attraction. Who needs to travel for excitement? I’ve got all I need right here in Normal.”

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I fiddled with the collar of his jacket. “But maybe you’ll get bored with me.” “You may be a lot of things, but boring isn’t one of them. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if you were just...vanilla pudding.” Our eyes met and I smiled. He took my hands in his. “I want the sundae, Hannah. I have to have the sundae, with the hot fudge, with the cherry. I don’t want anyone else after having you.” I pressed closer. “You’re sure you want to stick with the same dessert your whole life?” “Yes,” Cooper said as we linked fingers. “I am if you are.” I kissed him gently on the mouth. “I’ve made a decision, and it’s because of you.” “Is that good?” “Very good. I’m quitting my job.” Cooper’s eyes widened. “Is that what you really want?” “Absolutely. I might even be persuaded to run away somewhere occasionally, when Normal gets to be too monotonous.” “Wow. What brought all this on?” “I just realized that you’ve got it right. A person should follow their dream, you know? I think I need to pay more attention to that.” “I’m happy for you, babe.” Cooper kissed my hand. “So what’s the plan? You going to become the town’s new P.I. now that it’s missing one?” My eyebrows shot up. “Are you crazy?” “You’d fit the bill perfectly. Think about it, Hannah. You’re familiar with the law. You’re a pit bull when it comes to chasing down clues. You’re not afraid of killers with guns. And,” Cooper finished off triumphantly, “you’re a black belt. I rest my case.” I had intended to offer my services as an assistant to Uncle

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Forrest now that his practice was taking off, but I hadn’t planned beyond that. I figured I’d take things one step at a time, and maybe if I got lucky, the investigative work for my uncle would lead to something else. But in spite of the lunacy behind Cooper’s idea, hearing him say it out loud gave me butterflies. “I thought you wanted me to be careful, stop chasing trouble around? Becoming a PI isn’t exactly the same as stocking shelves with vitamins.” Cooper nodded solemnly. “I know that. But I’m going to try to buy my bike back from Macy, and if I go after my dream, how can I stop you from going after yours? Sure, I worry about you, but I can’t chain you to my Harley. Life is about taking risks.” He smiled and tugged a strand of my hair. “I’ll always love your hair, no matter how bad it gets.” I shook my head, my heart bursting at the seams. “I love you.” Cooper grinned. “I love you back.” “I could be Nancy Drew,” I said reverently. “Who?” I tsked. “You don’t know who Nancy Drew is?” “The chick that hung with the Hardy Boys?” “Precisely. You know, she had lots going for her, so you won’t need to worry about me.” Cooper looked skeptical. “What did she have going for her?” “Well, she had nine lives, for one thing.” “I think you’ve already used up yours.” I refused to be sidetracked by negativity. “She could defend herself when she had to, but she used her brain, mostly. She was very lucky, so all I really need to work on is the luck thing.” I batted my lashes at him. “And I have you, now, so that’s lucky.” Cooper nodded, smiling. “Yeah, you have me. As long as you want.” He picked up another tendril of hair and examined it.

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“What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Cooper said. “Your hair, it’s really soft...silky. It doesn’t look all that pink anymore. It’s sort of dark red. Looks good.” “Finally,” I said with a sigh of relief. “The frizz is gone.” “How long will it stay like this?” “I have no idea.” Cooper threw me a lopsided grin. “I have no tears baby shampoo back at my place. I’ll let you use some if you promise me something.” “What?” “That you warn me next time your hair does the frizzy, split end, weird color thing. That way I can hide, before all hell breaks loose.” “But then you’ll miss all the fun.” “The only fun I’m interested in involves you, my bike and a bed,” Cooper said. “I’ll leave the rest of the fun to you.” I smiled into Cooper’s eyes. “Deal.” ~End~

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About the Author

N

ancy Darryl fell in love with romance fiction at the age of twelve, after discovering a stash of Harlequin Romance books in a box under her grandmother’s bed. The year was 1969—you do the math. Her debut novel, Here Lies Love was awarded Best Selling Novel of the Year (2005) by Champagne Books. Bad Hair Day is her second novel. Don’t miss her next release, Undercurrents, coming in December 2006. Nancy lives in Ottawa, Canada. Visit her at http://www.nancydarryl.com.