Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) (12 page)

"This is good," he said. "Very good. Could be
the break we've been waiting for."

"I'm glad you're so pleased. How concerned
should I be about the 'repercussions'?"

"On a scale of one to ten? I'd say eight or
nine. I'll hang around the cafe today. Be close by, if that'll make
you feel better?"

"Yes, thank you." She wanted to ask him to
call Dillon. She'd feel even better if he were here.

"No problem. Just part of the job." Brozek
didn't look up. Using a pair of tweezers, he carefully plucked the
letter from the desk and placed it in a large plastic bag. The
envelope followed and he sealed the bag. "I'll send this to the lab
right away. I'll also have to dust the computers for prints."

She glanced at the clock on the wall. "When
are you going to do that? My manager and kitchen staff will be here
any minute. How are we going to explain your presence?"

He smiled. "You're really getting into the
hang of this undercover business, aren't you?"

"No, I hate it. I hate all of it. I want you
to catch this guy as soon as possible. I don't want him using my
cafe. And I certainly don't want him to hurt me or any of my
employees or customers."

"I don't think he will."

"Did you think he would send a letter like
this?"

Brozek hesitated. "No."

"I'm sure Dillon didn't either," she said.
"How will you get finger prints from the computers? A lot of people
use them."

"All I need to dust are the keystroke
recorders. There's no reason for anyone to touch them except our
hacker. You close up shop early tonight. I'll get the prints then.
It won't take long."

"Are you going to call Dillon?" Claire
couldn't help asking.

"Immediately. I need to take care of a few
things this morning, but I'll be back in a couple of hours. Don't
worry."

Claire nodded. "Yeah, right."

For the rest of the day, every little thing
made Claire jump. Not since her divorce had she felt so nervous or
vulnerable. Hadn't she learned anything in the last five years? She
thought she could take care of herself, that she didn't need
anyone's help. Had she been living in a fantasy world?

Her marriage to Bennett Hamilton had lasted
only twelve months--a long tortuous nightmare. He hadn't hurt her
physically. No, he'd hurt her deeper. He'd hurt her soul.

Insanely jealous, Bennett smothered her, cut
her off from family and friends. He constantly accused her of
infidelity. No matter what she did or what she said, Claire could
never make him believe in her love for him. Slowly, painfully, that
love died.

Claire had sworn then and there, she would
never love again. Never need anyone. She picked up the pieces of
her life, accepted Natalie's invitation to Austin and tried not to
look back. Carefully, she built a new life. Everything had been
going great.

Until now.

The computer hacker had destroyed her
illusion of control over her life. And so had Dillon Anderson.

****

"But I don't see why we have to close up
early? You've been acting strange all day. Are you sure you're
okay?" Natalie frowned at Claire.

"I'm fine. I want to prepare for the systems
upgrade. It won't hurt to close a couple of hours early." Claire
climbed on the barstool at the counter and ordered a latte. The
smell of roasted coffee beans permeated the air. The quiet noise of
the customers blended in with the hum of the computers. Claire
hated to think the peace and tranquility inside e*Claire's could be
shattered any minute. Damn the hacker.

"I thought you were going to let Mr. Macho
help with the upgrade," Natalie said. "Can't you wait 'til he gets
back?"

"I've made up my mind, Nat. I want to do this
tonight. It's just preliminary preparation anyway."

"All right. All right. I still can't believe
Mr. Macho stood you up for the banquet tomorrow night."

"Would you please stop calling him that? His
name is Dillon."

Natalie looked at her strangely. "What's got
your panties in a twist? Wait, I bet I know. Mr. Macho. You miss
him don't you?"

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Okay, let's talk about someone else. Like
that guy over there?"

Claire looked up from her drink and scanned
the room. "What guy?"

"The dark hunk over on table six. He's been
here all day. Looks like he's casing the joint. I think I'll go
have a word with him."

"No, wait!" Claire grabbed Natalie's
sleeve.

Her friend really looked at her strangely
now. "What is it, Claire? Something's going on. I know it."

"Nothing. Nothing's going on." She dropped
her hand and wiped her sweaty palm on her slacks. "I'll go talk to
him."

"You? Why?"

"Like you said. He's a hunk."

"Right. You've never noticed the hunks
before. And what about Mr. Macho?"

"Stop calling him that," Claire said between
clenched teeth. "Besides, he's not here." She tried to look
sophisticated and worldly.

Natalie snorted. "Go on then," she said with
a smile. "This I've got to see."

Claire made her way toward Stan Brozek. This
undercover business was tough. Dillon was right. If she wasn't
careful, she was going to blow the whole thing.

Brozek watched her approach. He motioned to
the chair beside him. "What's up?"

"My friend's getting suspicious." She sank
into the chair and set her latte on the table.

Brozek glanced at Natalie sitting at the
counter. "Is she now. Interesting."

"Yes. You've been here all day. Most of our
customers are in and out. They come and they go. Stay a couple of
hours, then leave. She thinks you're casing the place."

His dark eyebrows lifted and arched. "She
does, does she?"

"It's not funny. She's asking all kinds of
questions."

"And why would she do that?"

"I've been a little edgy today." Claire
sipped her drink. "Have you talked to Dillon?" She really wished he
would call. She needed to hear his voice.

"Yeah. He'll be back tomorrow. Probably
late."

Claire's spirit drooped. She searched for her
missing backbone, so she could stuff it in the empty hole near her
heart.

"Look," Brozek said, "I'll leave now and wait
in the van, then return around ten-thirty. Maybe that'll take care
of your friend's curiosity. Just relax and act normal. Everything's
going to work out." He pushed back from the table, grabbed his
leather jacket and walked away.

Claire let out a long breath. She'd feel
better when Dillon returned. Safer. She wanted to feel his arms
around her, holding her close. She wanted him to kiss away her
fears. All of them. Not only the physical ones, but the emotional
ones, too. Damn. Where was that backbone when you needed it?

The door closed behind Brozek, only to open
immediately. Frank entered the cafe, glanced around the room and
made a beeline to Natalie, still seated at the counter.

Claire joined them. Frank looked a little
worse for wear. His jacket was rumpled and his hair uncombed.

"What did you do, Frank? Fall asleep over
your dissertation again?" Claire asked.

"Yes, I just woke up. I need coffee. Strong,
please."

Natalie ordered for him and brushed wrinkles
from his shoulders and straightened the sleeves of his jacket. "You
need to take better care of yourself, Frank."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm
aware of that. As soon as I complete my paper and attend to a few
other details, my situation will improve immensely."

Natalie handed him his cup of coffee. "Here
you go, sweetie."

Frank took a drink and sighed. "No coffee
compares to the coffee at e*Claire's. Let's sit at a table. I need
to do some revisions." He started across the cafe.

Natalie hopped down from her stool and
followed. Claire did, too.

"You won't be able to work long," Nat said.
"We're closing early tonight."

"Really? Why?" He set his briefcase on the
table.

"I need to prepare for the upgrade of the
systems," Claire said.

"I see. Do you require assistance?" he asked.
"I've noticed your new tech has been absent for the last few days.
I'm somewhat knowledgeable with computers."

Natalie smiled. "That's so sweet of you.
Isn't that sweet of him?" she asked Claire.

"Yes, sweet." But Claire thought it strange.
An uncomfortable feeling started niggling at her brain.

"I would be happy to help," Frank assured
her.

"Thanks, but I prefer to do this alone." She
looked at her watch. "Thirty minutes, Nat. Make the announcement. I
want everyone out by ten. Then I'll close up. You can go home. Or
out with Frank."

"Sounds like a winner to me." Natalie turned
to Frank, who was already tapping away on the keyboard. "Want to
come over to my place and work on your paper?"

"Certainly." He pushed his glasses higher on
his nose, took another drink of coffee and continued pounding the
keyboard.

Claire walked to her office. Something wasn't
right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. With Dillon out of
town, the anonymous letter this morning and Brozek's
presence--things seemed out of kilter.

She wasn't thinking clearly. Frank's offer to
help shouldn't make her jump to conclusions. But that's just what
it had done. She didn't like it.

And where was Dillon? She needed him, in more
ways than one. Claire didn't like that either.

****

Dillon cursed the rain that made the trip
back to Austin a slow laborious process. Traffic snaked along the
highway. Sheets of water crashed over the windshield. He'd left
Dallas at two thirty in the afternoon. The three-hour drive turned
into a five-hour ordeal.

Ever since Brozek called yesterday morning,
Dillon had been straining at the bit to get back to Austin and to
Claire.

He banged the steering wheel with the palms
of his hands. He couldn't believe the hacker had contacted her.
Threatened her. He wanted to strangle the bastard.

Catching the hacker was his job. His
business. But now it had become personal. Threatening Claire, the
woman he . . . wanted--not loved, he couldn't love Claire,
wouldn't
love Claire--the woman he wanted . . . that made it
damn personal. If anything happened to her . . . nothing was going
to happen. He wouldn't let it.

A little after eight, Dillon pulled into his
parking slot at the apartment he shared with his partner. A quick
call to Brozek at the cafe reassured him nothing more had happened
today. With Claire relatively safe at the Chamber of Commerce
Banquet, Dillon told Brozek to meet him here as soon as possible.
He wanted to be brought up to date.

And then, he wanted to see Claire. He needed
to see her. He didn't question the need to check on her. To make
sure she was okay. It was something he had to do.

Dillon was sitting on the sofa staring at a
blank TV screen when Brozek waltzed in and tossed a paper bag at
him. "Here. I brought you a present."

Dillon opened the bag and dumped the contents
on his lap. "A box of condoms?" He looked at his partner.

"Don't say I never gave you anything."

"Your sentiment is touching," Dillon
said.

Brozek grinned as he shrugged out of his
jacket. "I've been hanging out with your lady friend for the past
two days. She is one pretty woman. If you don't want to use those,
then hand them back and I'll make a move on her myself."

Dillon stuffed the box back in the bag. "Do
that and you're a dead man."

Brozek whistled under his breath. "Huh-oh.
Sounds serious, man."

"Back off, Brozek."

His partner lifted his hands in a gesture of
surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll back off. I need a beer. Want
one?"

"No, I'm drinking Dr. Pepper."

Brozek came back into the living room. "How'd
it go in Dallas?"

"Everything is taken care of. I left it in
Madelyn's capable hands. She's tying up the loose ends."

"Thank God for Maddie. We should give her a
raise. Admins like her are hard to find."

"Be sure to make a note of that," Dillon
said.

"Will do." Brozek set up his laptop on the
coffee table.

"When will the results of the fingerprints
come back from the lab?" Dillon tossed back the rest of his soda.
The fingerprints might be the key to solving the case. He hated
that Claire had been threatened, but the letter was a stroke of
good luck.

"Should know something tomorrow," Brozek
said. "I lifted the chef's prints from the kitchen and sent them
in, too."

"Good. I don't think he's our man, but we
need to make sure." Dillon stared at the Dr. Pepper can. "You
didn't find anything in the keystroke files from Claire's
computer?"

Brozek shook his head. "Just some hits on
various Internet sites."

"What kind of sites?"

"Recipes. Cooking techniques. Things like
that."

"So why was he using Claire's computer?"
Dillon said.

"Maybe his computer really 'cracked'?"

Dillon grinned. "Pierre's a laugh a minute.
And a mystery. What can he be doing that's such a big secret?"

"No telling," Brozek said. "So now we're back
to waiting. The next move belongs to the hacker."

"We're ready for him now. He's due for an
attack soon." Dillon crushed the soda can, wishing he could crush
the hacker just as easily. "I'm going to take a shower."

Brozek waved him away, keeping his eyes on
the laptop.

Dillon entered his bedroom, gathered clean
clothes and headed to the bathroom where he stripped. Adjusting the
faucets over the tub, he stepped in the shower and let the hot
water stream over him.

He focused on relaxing his tense muscles.
Muscles that had been in knots for over twenty-four hours. Last
night, he had tossed and turned thinking about Claire. Not his
usual tossing and turning and not his usual thoughts about her,
either. He'd wanted to call her, but didn't.