Slow Hands (10 page)

"In fact," Alec continued, "the sooner word spreads we're involved, the better."

She straightened at the word.
Involved.
"Isn't there another way?"

"None as instantly convincing. My presence won't raise any eyebrows if everyone thinks we're knee deep in an affair. It may also make Griggs think twice about coming near you when he returns."

"It's not me I'm worried about." She touched the pewter flask Willis left. "How convincing do we have to be?"

"In public? One hundred percent. We've got almost two weeks before Griggs arrives. We'll start off gradually." Alec moved closer. "In fact, since you were the injured party, most people would expect you to be more aloof—to hold back while I try to make up for lost time. To prove myself."

Keira stared into his dark eyes. It took a moment to recall that Alec was talking about their cover. Their lie.

She shrugged, looked away before he saw her confusion. "Whatever."

He reached out, touched her arm. "I don't think you fully understand. You have to act like you really want it, Keira. That you want
me.
Which means cooling it with Reggie Reeves."

Alec had watched her kiss Reggie the night before. Hadn't liked it.

Keira stepped back, a ready rebuttal on her lips.

Her phone rang. Alec stepped aside as she stalked over and grabbed it.

"Hello!" she snapped.

"Keira? It's Scarlet. Uh, you haven't by chance seen Alec, have you? I know he lives next door. We have a date tonight, and I'm afraid my sitter's running a little late."

Keira slid her eyes sideways, toward Alec. A date? "What time do you want him there?"

"Seven will be fine."

Keira hung up, crossed her arms. "Scarlet's changed your
date
to seven."

Alec started swearing. "It's not a date. She asked me to come over and install a ceiling fan."

Keira was unmoved. "Must be a bedroom fan. She's getting a sitter."

"It was hard to say no without blowing my cover as an electrician. Listen—"

She cut him off, reminding herself Alec was there to do a job. In the bigger scheme of things maybe it didn't really matter whether he feigned an affair with Keira. Or Scarlet.

Who was she kidding ... of course it mattered.

"No, you listen. I suggest you get your story straight with Scarlet. Make sure she knows you're
taken."

Alec threw a mock salute. "And ditto you, with Reggie.

Keira was out of her apartment before dawn on Monday morning, which wasn't unusual. The fact that she'd been up most of the night before was.

Typically a heavy sleeper, she'd tossed and turned, stewing. More than once she caught herself listening for sounds from Alec's apartment, wondering how late he'd stayed at Scarlet's.

She told herself she was only upset because it was Scarlet. There had never been any love lost between the two women.

Scarlet had been Freedom's self-appointed prima donna and everyone's rival in school. She'd been captain of the cheerleading squad, homecoming queen, and class president. She'd never had a pimple, never sweated, and probably never had cramps. And she looked down her nose at Keira because she worked in construction.

There were only two things Keira knew of that Scarlet had failed to achieve. She'd been furious when Franny showed up in sixth grade wearing the first bra.

She'd also never hooked Alec Dempsey, the star quarterback, the town's resident bad boy, and best-looking guy in high school. Oh, Scarlet had tried, but Alec had belonged to Keira, body and soul. Back when he had a soul, anyway.

If Keira had been smart, she would have let Scarlet have him back in high school.

By Monday evening, Keira felt like she'd moved mountains. Hard work had always been her panacea.

She'd have no problem sleeping that night. She stopped by the Burger Haven drive-through, taking supper home in a sack.

Shower, food, bed, she promised herself as she climbed out of the elevator. Halfway down the hall, she smelled the delicious aroma of cooking tomatoes. The heavenly scent almost overwhelmed her as she unlocked her apartment door.

Alec popped his head out of her kitchen. "Hard day at the office?" he quipped.

She started to yell at him, except her stomach held her tongue. "What's that?"

"Marinara. Homemade."

Alec reached down, grabbed the sack from her hand, and opened it. He extracted two fries, holding one out to her.

She opened her mouth. The lukewarm french fry tasted like old grease against the scent of Alec's marinara.

He stuck the other fry in his mouth, then dumped the sack in the garbage. "This will be ready by the time you're cleaned up."

She opened her mouth to protest. Damn it, they needed to establish some rules. She didn't want him waltzing in and out of her apartment like he owned the place.

Then she spotted another pan. Her resolve weakened. "Garlic bread?"

He nodded, turned on the broiler. "With cheese."

"Don't you dare eat it all before I'm out of the shower."

Alec laughed, shoving her toward the bedroom.

Five minutes later, Keira reappeared in shorts and a T-shirt. Her feet were bare, and she had a towel wrapped turban-style around her head.

Alec pointed to a chair, then brought over two plates loaded with steaming ziti, heavy with sauce and lots of freshly grated Parmesan.

Keira grabbed a piece of garlic bread. "I think this is the first time a meal's ever been cooked in this apartment."

"I'm not surprised. You can't cook. I had to go to the store for everything."

Keira took a bite of pasta and closed her eyes in pure bliss. Alec, on the other hand, was a phenomenal cook, thanks to an Italian mother who didn't want her only son marrying just to get a good meal. "I hope you made enough for leftovers."

Alec sipped his tea. He'd picked up a week's worth of groceries, most of which were in his apartment.

He asked about her day, then dished up a second helping of ziti. He stuck the last piece of garlic bread on the edge of her plate, watched her eat. Keira didn't have to watch calories, in fact she needed carbs to keep up with the demands of her job.

She insisted on cleaning up, a task Alec willingly ceded to her.

"I hate to eat and run, but I'm expecting a phone call," he said.

"Scarlet?" Keira regretted the words immediately. Alec seemed to find them amusing.

"My boss. Feel better?"

"No. I mean, it's none of my business."

"Sure it is. Just like it's my business to know that you're planning to go climbing with Reggie this weekend."

"Look—"

"Cancel it," he said. His cell phone rang. "Later, babe," he mouthed, and left.

*
      
*
      
*

What Alec had neglected to tell Keira was how he'd found out about her plans with Reggie.

Alec had reported to her office first thing that morning and filled out a stack of new employee papers. Martha, one of Keira's assistants, had explained payroll, health insurance, and the vacation/sick leave policy.

Alec then loaded a few supplies from inventory, careful to take common items that were plentiful. He'd sneak them back in later, after hours.

Reggie had pulled in just as he was leaving. Alec met the other man's stare. Returned it.

The animosity between them was immediate. Tangible. And boiled down to one issue: Keira. Reggie obviously had the hots for her and perceived Alec as a threat. Or at least that's the perception Alec wanted to perpetuate.

"Heard you used to work here." Reggie spoke first. "Hope you don't expect special treatment."

"Keira and I go way back," Alec replied. "Guess you could say I've got seniority."

"Well, we work on the merit system here. Skill beats familiarity. And old age."

"But I've got the home field advantage," Alec countered. "And I intend to use it."

"I didn't get the impression you had any advantage. In fact, just this morning Keira asked me to go climbing with her next weekend. Ought to be ... fun." With that, Reggie strode off.

Alec had wanted to deck the man. Instead, he'd left, driven around until his temper cooled. Reggie and Scarlet were both problems that had to be nipped in the bud, to avoid interfering with Alec's cover. Period.

He tried calling Miles Ostman, eager to hear if Griggs's parole hearing had taken place as scheduled.

The parole board reminded Ian Griggs of fish.
In a barrel.

He sat before them, back straight against the battered wooden chair, and tried not to appear too confident.

"You gotta look repentant, but not pious,"
his cellmate had coached.
"And don't tell them you've found the Almighty and been saved. They hear that shit all the time."

Ian cleared his throat. "Well, sir, one of the first things I hope to do when I get out, is to find my pa."

"Find him where?" The man flipped through a file, frowned. "Says here your father abandoned his family when you were in high school. After your mother filed abuse charges."

Which time?
"He wasn't a nice man," Ian agreed. Life with Farley Griggs made time in prison seem like Club Med. "But he sent me a letter recently. Apologized. Said I'm all the family he's got left. Said he'll come to Freedom and make things right." Ian looked directly at the man. "Guess I owe him a chance to prove he's changed. We all deserve second chances. Right?"

Two of the board members nodded slightly, which told Ian that his lie had seemed sincere. Of course, with his connections, he could tell them all to kiss his ass and he'd still get out. Lady Luck was on his side.

To keep from grinning, he stuck his hand in his pocket and fingered his good luck token. A shank of red hair ...

*
    
*
    
*

Alec was in one of the vacant buildings that stood directly behind the halfway house Ian Griggs would soon call home.

Miles Ostman had located the owner of one of the buildings, a lawyer in Little Rock, and arranged a short-term lease. Alec would have free access to the building under the guise of rewiring it.

He hoped to keep his presence concealed. No sense calling attention to himself. The overgrown bushes surrounding the property would help.

He glanced out the second-story window, peering through the wide-spaced boards. From there, he had a perfect view of the halfway house.

He noted the windows, the entrances, the alley. The house was fenced with a small parking lot on one side. Using binoculars, Alec copied down license tag numbers.

According to Ostman's sources, Griggs would be assigned the first-floor corner room. Alec stared at the room. With the blinds up, he could easily see in the window. But what were the chances that Griggs would leave the blinds up?

Alec rubbed his chin. Griggs wasn't stupid. He'd know Big Brother would be watching. And Alec would bet that Joseph Ciccone would be sniffing around, too, but from a distance. The mob would have as tough a time as the FBI planting someone in Freedom.

And God knew who else would climb out of the woodwork once news of Griggs's release spread. The press. The amateur fortune hunters. The terminally curious.

Ostman was right about one thing. The sooner
Griggs got his money and left, the better his chances of doing so unobserved. This job might wrap up sooner than Alec expected.

Returning to his car, he drove a short distance and pulled into a gas station. In spite of the fact it was an old-fashioned, full-service station, Alec climbed out and began pumping his own gas.

The owner, a man Alec didn't recognize, ambled over, offering an untrusting smile while wiping his brow with a dirty rag.