Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries) (22 page)

"
Why not just drive over?"

"
Because someone slashed all four tires on the van."

"
And you think it's a good idea to go walking around at night with a mad slasher on the loose?"

When put like that, it didn
't sound like the brightest idea I'd ever had.

"
Ask Bad-ass Baldy to go with you tomorrow. He's all alpha male, stomping around in here like he owns the place."

"
Can't. He won't help me with the frat boys' murder because he's trying to get back on the police force. No way can I ask him to help me with this, knowing it's a cop who killed her."

Still, I decided to take her advice and not tempt the Mad Slasher. I stayed home, called the froufrou coffee place
, and asked if anyone had worked there when Juliet Rota did. No one on the nightshift did, but the girl who answered the phone took my name and phone number and said she'd ask the dayshift for me.

Remembering that my mother had mentioned that one of the frat boys was an only child, I went back to the computer and pulled up their obituaries and discovered something alarming.

Buck had been an only child. Which meant "Sal" had been an imposter.

I considered calling Smoke and telling him about my discovery
, and I thought about calling Alan Reed and telling him I had another suspect in my tire slashing case, but ultimately I decided that the results of my sleuthing could wait until the light of day.

What couldn
't wait was making the call to the girl Buck had wanted me to get in touch with. The conversation was awkward, but she promised to get tested.

I spent the rest of the night preparing for the havoc I knew would be wreaked the next day and went to bed early
.

Which was a good thing, since a gal needs her beauty rest before she receives her very first death threat.

There aren't many things worse than being woken out of a sound sleep by a ringing phone. Ever since Jerry had gone missing and Dad had suffered his heart attack, I've gone to sleep most nights with the niggling fear that one day I'd get the dreaded call about them.

So, when my phone rang at 5:53 in the morning, I knew that no one at the other end was calling with good news, so I waited four rings before I snatched it up. I needed those four rings to compose myself. I had to remind myself to breathe.

"Hello?" I answered, sitting up, holding a fistful of blanket to anchor myself.

"
Victoria Spring?"

"
Yes," I answered automatically before I processed that whoever on the other end was using one of those voice distortion machines.

"
Stop poking your nose into places it doesn't belong."

"
Excuse me?"

"
Mind your own business, or you'll end up dead, too."

The adrenaline pumping through my system made me feel nauseated as
the caller's words sunk in. This wasn't about Jerry or Dad, this was someone threatening me. I felt cold and sick.

"
We wouldn't want Artie and Ruth Spring to lose a second child, would we?" the mechanical voice asked.

I didn
't know what to say, so I just hung up the phone. Then I started to shake. Uncontrollably.

Whoever had been on the phone knew my name, my phone number, my parents
' names.

I knew that Smoke had said to call the police first and then him, but my trembling fingers automatically called his cell phone first.

It only rang twice.

"
What happened?" There was no trace of sleepiness in his gravelly voice, just urgent concern.

I tried to answer him, but my throat constricted painfully.

"Victori—Vicky, tell me what's going on."

I swallowed hard.
"Someone just called…he knew my parents' names…he knew about Jerry, he said….he said…" I couldn't bring myself to repeat the words aloud.

"
Unlock your back door," Smoke said.

"
I…I didn't call the police."

"
That's okay. Just let me inside."

"
Okay. Will you call me when you get here?"

There was a moment
's silence. "I'm here."

That made no sense. We couldn
't have been on the phone more than a minute. "I don't understand."

"
I'm going to knock on the kitchen door now," he said. "Come downstairs and let me in."

I could hear distant knocking.
"That's you?"

"
That's me."

I raced down the stairs and thr
ough the kitchen. I was shivering so hard I fumbled with the locks.

"
Take your time," his familiar voice rumbled from the other side of the door.

I practically ripped the thing from the hinges, holding my breath, fearing his announced presence was some strange trick of my imagination. But there he was. Real and solid.

Legs rubbery with relief, I sagged against the door frame.

Smoke grabbed my shoulders to prevent me from collapsing completely.

"It's going to be okay. Nobody's going to hurt you." He led me over to a kitchen chair and had me sit down. Still holding my upper arms, in a grip that was firm but not bruising, he crouched before me, studying my face. A furrow of worry pinched the space between his eyebrows.

"
But he knew my parents' names," I wailed. More than the direct threat, that had upset me the most.

"
Did you recognize his voice?"

"
He was using one of those things to disguise it."

"
And what did he say?"

"
That I should mind my own business or I'd end up dead too." I took a shaky breath. The fear-induced rush was gone, and I was suddenly tired. "And that it would be too bad if my parents lost another kid."

"
He said 'your parents?'"

I shook my head, unable to speak. My eyes filled with tears.

"He knew their names?"

"
That's bad, right?" I whispered. Two big fat droplets fell on my cheeks. Embarrassed, I pulled free of his grasp and brushed them away. More took their place. So much for being in control. "I'm sorry. I don't usually…I never fall apart like this."

"
It's okay. You've had quite a scare."

I jumped up, almost knocking him over in the process. I paced away from him.
"I should never have called you. I—" I turned back and almost collided with him, having not even heard him following. Without thinking, I leaned into him, pressing my forehead against his sternum. I instantly felt better, grounded.

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head
, and I stopped shivering.

"
I was so scared," I admitted on a whisper.

"
I know, Tori, but nothing's going to happen to you."

"
No one's ever called me that."

He stepped back so that he could see my face.
"But you don't hate it?" A teasing smile lit his eyes, fracturing the unbearable tension that had thrummed through me from the moment the phone had rung.

"
I don't hate it."

"
Then it's what I'm going to call you," he said with a wink. Reaching out he wiped away the remainder of my tears. "I'm not sure there's anything to do. I doubt the guy called from a traceable number, but I'm going to call Detective Reed and tell him what happened. He'll come over and take your statement."

"
Okay."

"
You might want to change before he gets here."

I looked down at myself and remembered that Delia had urged me to not sleep in my usual sweats and tee, but to wear the ivory chiffon chemise with the double layer skirt and embroidered bodice that Venus
had given me a few years before. It probably cost more than I made in a week, but my friend had insisted that I keep the elegant, sexy gift.

"
Oh, God!" I covered my face, which was suddenly burning. Then my breasts. Then my breasts and crotch.

Smoke had the good grace to look away, but that wasn
't much of a comfort considering I'd given him such an eyeful.

"
Oh, God," I muttered again. "You must think I—"

"
What I think, Tori," he said, turning back to face me and somehow managing to focus solely on my face, "is that a beautiful woman should be able to wear whatever makes her feel good."

"
Venus gave it to me!" I blurted out.

"
And it suits you, unlike that stuff that was out yesterday."

If it was possible, my face burned hotter.

He turned back away. "I'll call Reed."

I ran upstairs to change.

By the time I got back downstairs, having made my bed and safely stowed the lingerie away, I could smell coffee brewing.

Smoke had his head stuck in my fridge when I returned to the kitchen.

"Coffee smells good."

Closing the refrigerator, Smoke looked me over
. I was dressed in my usual uniform of jeans and a T-shirt, so there wasn't much to see. "I hope you don't mind that I made it. It was just sitting there on the counter along with all your other canned food."

"
No, I don't mind." It felt strangely intimate to have this man in my kitchen making himself at home.

"
Reed should be here soon."

I eyed him nervously.
"Can I ask you something?"

"
Sure."

"
How'd you get here so fast?"

Leaning back against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I was already here."

"
You said you'd pick me up at eight."

He nodded.

"So why were you here before six?"

"
I was…concerned, so I camped out in your driveway to keep an eye on your place."

Amazed that someone would do that, I stared at him.
"You slept in your car?"

"
I wouldn't say 'slept' but, yes, I spent the night in my Jeep."

"
But…why?"

The coffeemaker gurgled, signaling its brewing process was over. Smoke pulled two Styrofoam mugs from a pack on the counter and poured the coffee. With his back to me, he said gently,
"I was worried about you."

"
If memory serves, you were pissed at me."

"
I can do two things at once." He handed me a cup of steaming caffeine. "I'm a good multi-tasker. Besides, how long could a man stay pissed at a woman who took him for soup, even though she hates it herself?"

"
I don't hate it."

"
Sure you do. You just have problems admitting that you're unhappy with anything. Sort of like this job. And this house."

"
I—"

A car pulled into the driveway. Smoke looked outside.
"Reed."

"
What should I tell him?"

"
Exactly what you told me. There's no need to be nervous," he said, as though reading my thoughts. "You haven't done anything wrong. He's just here to help you."

There were two sharp raps against the front door
. Putting my coffee down on the kitchen table, I hurried to answer it.

"
Thanks for coming, Alan…Al," I said as I let him inside.

"
I'm glad you called…or that Barclay called."

His freshly applied musky aftershave tickled my nose as I led the way to the kitchen. Once he was under the fluorescent light, I noticed that his hair was still damp. I felt a twinge of guilt for getting him out so early in the morning.

Smoke nodded a greeting to the detective but didn't say anything. Considering the other man had made it clear he was a murder suspect, I thought that was a pretty understandable reaction.

"
Coffee?" I asked, trying to disrupt all the masculine tension I was unaccustomed to having in my home.

"
Please. Black." Reed sat down at the opposite side of the table and looked around. "Are you getting ready to remodel or something?"

"
What?"

"
Your cabinets are all empty. Or are you just putting down new shelf liners? You know they sell this padded stuff on rolls that you can cut to fit to size. It's great stuff."

"
Um…oh…thanks." I didn't know how to answer him, and I didn't like the way Smoke was barely restraining a grin.