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Authors: Mary Ann Mitchell

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BOOK: The Taxman Killeth
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“Do you always have to carry
that thing?”

“Right now I feel better with it
where it is.”

“I don’t. You can stay for
supper if you find someplace to put that.”

Oh no, he’s going to leave, thought
Amy as he lifted his jacket. Instead, he removed the gun from his waistband and
slipped it into a pocket of the jacket.

 

 

 

Chapter 6

An Uncomfortable Night

 

The old eyelash trick always
worked, Todd thought, as he tried to get comfortable on the sofa cushions,
which Amy had graciously thrown on the floor when he had asked where he could
sleep. Todd had managed to use one of the throw pillows to raise his legs on an
equal level to the cushions. Getting the whole makeshift bed covered with a
sheet was another problem. Slices of the bed kept slipping away.

But finally he was lying very
still, knowing that any quick move would disrupt the precarious equilibrium of
his bunk. Amy had let him use the bathroom first while she cleaned up after the
meal, and now he could hear the water running in the bathroom. He remembered
the sight of her in the vanity mirror and was dismayed to feel himself harden.
He was uncomfortable enough without the additional temptation.

“Think old, smelly blue robe,”
he repeated to himself several times. It didn’t do any good, because his mind
kept slipping the nubby material off her shoulders, letting it drop onto the
white tiles of the bathroom floor. In the past, no woman had ever told him to
sleep on the floor. He groaned and wondered whether he was loosing some of his
masculine charms. Nah, not at thirty-six. It must be exhaustion; after all, he
hadn’t slept in more than forty-eight hours. Yeah, well, why doesn’t the rest
of him want to sleep? he wondered, still aware of his desire.

The water stopped, and he could
hear the usual female assortment of bottles and jars clanking. Good Lord, he
wondered, is she going to come out with cold cream all over her face and her
hair done up in curlers? Maybe he’d be better off if she did. His arousal was
certain to deflate then.

She was even trying to sing. It
sounded like a tactical action to drive him out of the apartment. A high note
made him grimace. The sounds finally stopped. He hoped she had sung herself
hoarse. He didn’t think he could take anymore without surrendering.

The bathroom door squeaked open.
From the darkened living room, he could see a splash of light hit the hallway.
Amy followed.

“You asleep?” she whispered.

“Hardly.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“Definitely.”

“I might be able to borrow a
sleeping bag from someone at work. That’s not saying that I’ve decided you can
stay.”

“You mean I can take it with me
and sleep in an alley?”

“Certainly not! How could I be
sure of getting it back?”

Todd groaned.

“You’re not very appreciative. I
could be considered an accessory to murder for letting you hide out here. And
how do I know that in the middle of the night you won’t sneak into my bedroom
and slit my throat?”

“Too messy. I don’t like the
sight of blood.”

“What?!”

“Amy, I didn’t kill my partner,
and I’m certainly not going to hurt you. Have I laid a hand on you?”

“Well, the eyelash... But then I
guess you were doing me a favor.”

Todd didn’t know why, but he
felt a slight twinge of guilt.

“Go to bed, Amy.”

She moved further into the hall
and walked toward him. The light behind her outlined the curves of her body
beneath the thin cotton gown. He wondered whether she was aware of that fact.
Finally she was close enough for him to smell the soapy sweet fragrance of her
body. And no, there were no curlers in her hair or whitish mask covering her
face.

“I can get you another blanket,”
she said.

Todd sat up and let the cover
sheet fall to his waist.

She gave a little scream.

“You’re naked!”

“I always sleep naked. Don’t
tell me you’ve never seen a naked man, Amy.”

Amy was having a hard time
catching her breath as her eyes took in the broadness of his back and the
definition of his muscles. She moved a little to her right and noticed his
abdomen was flat and hard just above the sheet. She didn’t want to consider
what was under the sheet or she’d completely lose her head.

“I expected you to sleep in your
underwear at least. What if there’s a fire or something and we have to run out
of the apartment?”

“I’d say you’d be the envy of
the neighbors.”

“Oh!... Oh!... Oh!...”

“Thank you for the thought, but
I won’t be needing a blanket. Go to bed, Amy.”

Her nearness wasn’t doing
anything to solve his current problem, which seemed to be getting firmer every
second she stood there.

Amy threw her shoulders back,
stuck her nose in the air and marched to the bedroom, stopping briefly to
switch off the bathroom light.

“Try to do good deeds,” she
muttered to herself. “And what happens? I end up taking in a
pervert.”
The last word was said loudly and with great emphasis just before she slammed
her bedroom door behind her.

Amy found her bed by moonlight.
She liked leaving the shades up, allowing the sun to shine into the room in the
morning. Daylight never woke her. She figured she could sleep under flood
lights if she had to. But she wasn’t too sure she could sleep with Todd Coleman
in the living room. Six months since she got rid of her cheating boyfriend. Amy
hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d made love until she saw Todd’s
body.

Ludicrous. Here she was drooling
over a murderer. And she called him a murderer, although he didn’t seem like he’d
hurt anyone. Just because he carried a gun... Where had he put the gun? she
wondered. Was it still in his jacket? It certainly wasn’t on him. Amy bit her
lower lip and contemplated sneaking into the living room in the middle of the
night and swiping the weapon for safety’s sake.

A couple of hours later a
sleepless, horny Amy was tip-toeing down the hall. It was difficult seeing
things in the living room because Todd had pulled down the blinds and closed
the slats. But a few moonbeams slipped through the chinks. She could see a
mound of white in the center of the floor. That had to be the sheet-covered
body of Todd. Last time she had seen the jacket it had been on the couch. Amy settled
her hand on the arm of the couch and flushed, feeling the silkiness of her
teddy. She snatched it up. No sense leaving it around to give him ideas that
she might succumb to. Further up, on the back of the polyester and cotton
couch, was leather. Carefully she lifted it, not wanting the gun to fall out of
the pocket and wake him. However, something was wrong. The jacket wasn’t heavy
enough to still have the gun. Suddenly a large hand was wrapped around her
ankle.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She turned and looked down.
There was the gun pointed directly at her. Amy gulped.

“I was just hanging up your
jacket.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Since I couldn’t sleep I
decided to do a little housekeeping.”

“Seems to me you could have
started in the bedroom.” Todd wasn’t about to admit that he hadn’t been able to
sleep either. “Leave it,” he said, still gripping her slender ankle.

“Okay.” She stretched to lay the
jacket across the back of the couch. “Well, good-night.”

She couldn’t move. He wouldn’t
let go.

“I always sleep with this,” he
said, placing the gun back under his pillow. “And don’t come around looking for
it again, or you might end up being my bed partner, so that I can keep a close
watch on you.” He let go of her ankle.

Amy nodded her head, counted her
blessings, and scurried back to the comfort of her futon.

“Bed partner,” she muttered
angrily. But she wasn’t sure it was such a bad idea.

 

 

 

Chapter 7

Jennie

 

Bacon. Amy took a deep whiff of
the air. Sizzling bacon. She hadn’t woken up to a cooked breakfast since she
was back East visiting her mom.

Mom! Amy sat up in bed. Her
mother had a key to the apartment, but had said she’d never use it except in an
emergency. And since her mom lived so far away, Amy hadn’t worried about her
privacy. But wait. She did have a sort of house guest. Could he cook? She heard
the rattling of dishes and silverware.

Todd was setting the counter
when she entered the kitchen. Bacon was draining into paper towels and
scrambled eggs were cooking in an iron skillet.

“I was just about to wake you.
Feel like orange or grapefruit juice?”

“I’d like orange but I only have
a container of grapefruit juice in the fridge.”

“Uh-uh. I picked up two pounds
of oranges this morning at the twenty-four hour supermarket. I figured I could
make a brief appearance at six in the morning without being caught; besides, I
wanted to pick up a newspaper.”

Todd pulled down the juicer.

“Here, make yourself useful,” he
said, tossing her an orange. “...while I see to the eggs.”

“I don’t know how to use it.”

“What?”

“I bought the juicer about a
year ago, but, you know, it’s kind of one of those gadgets you must have that
never gets used.”

“That doesn’t sound like Amy
Simpson to me. The woman with the simple life.”

“A juicer isn’t a very
complicated or expensive purchase.”

“Then get the juice ready.”

Amy nodded and began reading the
directions on the carton in which the appliance still sat.

The eggs, bacon and toast were
on the Formica counter and Amy was still trying to undo the packing inside the
box.

“Never mind. We’ll have
grapefruit juice this morning.”

“No. I can do it.”

“I’m too hungry to wait. You can
do it tomorrow morning,” he said, guiding her to a seat at the counter.

“Coffee?”

“Coming up.” He poured out two
big mugfuls.

“Gosh, this is like staying with
my mother.” Todd arched a brow. “I mean, no one else cooks me breakfast.”

“Really? I can’t believe some
guy bearing a breakfast tray hasn’t snuggled up close to you in bed.” Todd
breathed the last part into her ear as he put her mug of coffee on the counter.

Amy’s spine tingled.

“Actually, they have. Except I
was the one who had made the breakfast.”

“Spoil your men, do you?”

She decided to ignore his
comment and started indulging in her food before she had to get ready for work.

“You must be hungry, the way you’re
scarfing down those eggs.”

“I usually don’t eat before
work. Takes too much time. I’d rather catch a few minutes extra sleep.”

“Call in sick.”

Amy choked on her coffee, and
Todd put down his fork to pat her on the back.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s okay, but if you eat
slower you won’t...”

“No. What did you say about my
calling in sick?”

“We still need to talk a bit,
and I have a few errands for you to run.”

“Oh, feed her a hearty
breakfast, and then send her off to do your bidding. Is that it?”

“Who’s this ‘her’ you’re talking
about?”

“Me, Dumbo.”

“Lower your voice, Amy. It’s too
early in the morning to be causing such a commotion. What will your neighbors
think? The walls are paper-thin here. Hell, last night the people upstairs kept
me up part of the night with their...”

“They often do it in the living
room.” Amy blew some cool air onto her face. “And frequently at awkward times.”

Todd laughed.

“I guess you have to be careful
about who you entertain and when.”

Amy was glad it hadn’t occurred
while she was trying to abscond with his gun.

“Why don’t you move?”

“Why? There’s nothing else wrong
with the building, and the rent’s the best I can do in San Francisco. But don’t
distract me. I am not calling in sick. Why, Mr. Pickens...”

“Pickles,” he chuckled.

“Mr. Pickens would be furious.
He depends on me to collect and clarify all the necessary information.”

“And you do a good job.”

“Thank you.” It was her turn to
feel proud of how well they had worked together.

“But I have to insist that you
call in sick.”

“Don’t you think it may seem a
bit odd?”

“Why? You’ve never been ill?”

“Trudy, the receptionist.”

He nodded and smiled. He
remembered how the receptionist had blatantly ogled him.

“She knows we went out. She
might tie in my being sick with you.”

“Call and tell them you’ll be
late.”

“Todd, listen to me, because I
know. The best thing to do in a situation like this is to keep everything as
usual. Once one breaks old habits, people begin to wonder. And no one would
think that I would abandon Mr. Pickens right now.”

“Yeah, he’d be in quite a pickle
without you.” Todd chuckled.

“Don’t ever try to become a
comic.”

“More coffee?”

“No, I have to get ready.”

Amy started to get off her stool
when Todd reached out and grabbed her arm. His grip was firm and appealing in a
sensual way. But Amy immediately reined in her hormones and demanded that he
take his hands off her.

“What if I scream and my
neighbors rush to the door or call the police?”

“Amy, I need your help. I’d like
you to visit my regular government contact and see what he knows. Then I’d like
you to drop by my sister’s and give her this envelope.” Todd pulled a white
envelope from his back pants pocket and handed it to Amy.

“What is it?”

“Money. My sister’s husband is
out of work, and I’ve been slipping her a few bucks now and then to feed the
kids. Hubby doesn’t know anything about it, so if a man answers...”

“Tell him I want to speak to the
lady of the house.”

BOOK: The Taxman Killeth
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ads

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