Читать книгу Tough As Nails - Jackie Manning - Страница 9

Brianna Kent bolted upright in bed, her chest pounding. Was the noise she heard a dream or was someone prowling around her apartment? Her hand trembled as she brushed back the sweat-dampened hair from her face. Too terrified to turn on the light, she froze, listening. But all she heard was her thudding heartbeat and the terrifying silence of her bedroom.

Nothing would come from huddling with fear in her bed, imagining all sorts of things. She tossed back the covers, swung her feet to the floor and forced her brain to think.

Only a fool would break into a full-security apartment building with burglar-alarm warnings plastered at every window and door. Still, if she didn’t check out the noise, she’d be awake until the clock radio blared to life in a few hours.

She slipped into her white terry-cloth bathrobe, then opened the drawer of her bedside table. Taking the 9 mm snub-nosed Beretta from its case, she slipped the weapon into her hip pocket. The revolver hung heavily against her thigh, a grim reminder of the peril that came with her career. But she knew how to deal with threats. Although she hated guns, she’d learned to handle a weapon. The sharpshooter award above the fireplace proved it.

She clutched the lapels of her robe and creaked open the bedroom door. Peering into the narrow corridor, she was surprised to find the living room at the end of the hall brightly lit.

Damn. How could she have forgotten? Nora was sleeping over before flying out of JFK in the morning. Brianna, herself, had left the light on for her. Feeling like a fool to forget her aunt’s visit, she almost laughed with relief. Worry and lack of sleep were playing tricks on her mind.

Tightening the belt of her robe, she headed for the kitchen. Nora was probably unable to sleep and heating a glass of milk.

As Brianna crossed the blue-carpeted living room, her gaze caught the corner of a large envelope peeking out from beneath the front door. Her stomach clenched as recognition brought her to full alert. The manila envelope was identical to the three others that had been slipped under her office door in the last two weeks.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. He knows where I live!

She forced back the fear as her hand found the cold steel inside the pocket of her robe. Something had awoken her.

Dear God! Maybe he’d picked the lock and was in her apartment. Her gaze flew to the heavy security chain still attached to the wall.

Get a grip, Brianna. The door is locked from the inside. You and Nora are perfectly safe. And this time, he’d made a mistake. Whoever did this apparently didn’t know that security cameras covered the apartment corridors and would have caught him on video.

She dashed to the telephone on the desk. Her hands trembled as she fumbled the receiver from the hook, then tapped in the number for Apartment Security.

After one ring, a man’s deep voice answered. “Security. Collins here.”

“This is Dr. Kent in apartment 2304. Someone slipped an anonymous envelope under my door sometime between now and midnight.” She paused to steady herself. “I’d like to view the videotape as soon as possible.”

After a slight pause, he said, “I’m sorry, Dr. Kent. But our cameras have been down since before midnight. Our maintenance team is still checking the matter.”

“Does that mean none of the security cameras in the building were operating?”

“I’m afraid so. But I’ll forward your request to the manager, Ed Jenkins. I’ll have him call you as soon as he comes in later this morning. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Her frustration rose, then she realized it was the middle of the night. “N-no, thank you. Tell the manager that I’ll stop in to see him on my way to work later this morning.” When she’d hung up, she wondered if she should call the police and leave a message for Lieutenant Jeffries. He’d told her to call him if she received any more envelopes.

She picked up the phone again, then saw Nora staring at her from the hallway.

Her aunt’s sharp gaze swept over her. “What’s wrong, dear?” Nora hurried toward her, hazel eyes wide behind her gold-framed glasses. “Your face is white as a sheet. Why, you’re shaking.”

Brianna put the phone back in its cradle and forced a calm she didn’t feel. “That was Security. I thought I heard a noise, but everything is fine now.”

Nora’s thin eyebrows lifted. “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, dear.” Her head turned toward the envelope lying beneath the front door. “You don’t know who left this?” Nora scurried toward the door as though she was going to pick up the envelope.

“Don’t touch it!” Brianna rushed to her side. “There may be fingerprints”

“Fingerprints?” Nora stared at her. “Brianna, what’s going on? I heard you say the security cameras aren’t working?”

“The maintenance crew will have them working in no time.”

Nora glanced back at the envelope lying against the blue carpeting. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

Brianna shook her head. She didn’t have to open the envelope to know what was inside. But she didn’t want to worry her aunt, so she kept the thought to herself. “Whatever it is, it’s not important. Just someone’s idea of a joke, I’m sure.” She gave Nora what she hoped was an everything’s-under-control look. “I’ll drop the envelope at the police station on my way to the office this morning.”

Nora’s eyes narrowed. “Brianna. What’s going on?”

She sighed, knowing full well that her aunt would insist upon knowing everything before either of them would be going back to bed. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have some warm milk,” Brianna said lightly as she put her arm around the older woman.

Nora gasped. Her hand flew to her heart as she glanced at the pocket of Brianna’s robe. “You’re carrying a gun!”

Brianna looked down at the heavy bulge at her side. “I-I’m sorry to frighten you. When I thought I heard a noise, I…” She paused, knowing that despite her best intentions to allay Nora’s anxiety, her aunt was worried sick.

Brianna shrugged helplessly. “Excuse me while I put away the weapon, then we can talk.”

When she returned to the kitchen, her aunt had poured two glasses of milk, and was standing in front of the microwave oven, her arms folded. For a moment, Brianna was reminded of the many times she’d come home from middle school to find Nora in the kitchen, a plate of fresh-from-the-oven oatmeal cookies and hot cocoa waiting.

Nora had become a fixture in her brother’s home after Brianna’s mother had died, when Brianna was eight. Nora was someone everyone could count on. Ordinarily, Brianna would have been comforted to have her aunt visit. But until the police found the stalker who was sending the envelopes, Brianna might be endangering her aunt.

Rubbing the tight knot at the base of her neck, Brianna sat on the kitchen stool. She waited until her aunt placed the warm milk in front of her before she spoke.

“In the past two weeks, three envelopes containing photographs of me have been slipped under the door at my office. The first photo was taken in the parking garage across from my office while I was getting into my car.”

Nora bit her lip as she listened.

“The second photo arrived a few days later,” Brianna continued. “It was a picture of me at a neighborhood restaurant with a dozen friends for Marcie’s baby shower. The third photo arrived last Monday. It was taken of a colleague and me having a drink after work.” She waved her hands. “Nothing seems connected. Nothing makes any sense.”

Nora studied her over her glasses. “Except to the twisted mind who sent them.”

Brianna agreed, but she didn’t want to alarm Nora any more than she already had.

“You’re no match for a stalker,” Nora said finally. “I’m afraid for you, dear.”

“I’ve done everything that can be done. I’ve contacted the police. I know karate, I’m trained with a handgun. My apartment building is one of the most secure in Manhattan.”

Nora sniffed. “Not when the security cameras aren’t working.” She started toward the kitchen door. “This person is fixated on you, Brianna. I’ve seen this very thing on those crime shows on TV. I’ll bet the stalker disabled those video cameras himself!”

Brianna frowned as she watched her aunt. “Nora, where are you going?”

“I’m unpacking my bags.” Nora paused and shot a look over her shoulder at Brianna. “Until the police catch the stalker, my place is with you. I’m going to cancel my trip to my sister’s—”

“Nora! You’ll do nothing of the kind.”

Nora glanced at her watch. “I’ll call Laura in a few hours. It’s only one o’clock now in Denver.”

Brianna put her hand on the older woman’s arm. “I love you for wanting to help,” she said in a soft voice. “But there’s nothing you can do. Let’s not hear any more about canceling your trip to see Laura.”

Nora’s eyes glittered behind the gold rims. “I’ll go only if you promise me one thing.”

Brianna smiled to herself. “Of course, darling. What is it?”

“I want you to call TALON-6. They’re a security agency here in the city. I know they can help you.”

“TALON-6?”

“Yes, they have an office in midtown. I’d feel so much better if I knew they were looking out for you.”

Brianna crossed her arms. “You know these people?”

Nora averted her eyes and fixed her gaze upon her recently manicured nails. “I’ve carefully followed the owner’s career since he was in high school,” she added, examining a pearl-lacquered tip.

“One of your former pupils?” She wasn’t surprised. Her aunt kept in touch with most of her students. Having no children of her own, Nora had always played surrogate mother to her former math students.

Nora focused on her cuticles. “Yes, he was. I’ve known him ever since he was in the troubled-youth program, many years ago. I’ve watched him grow from a defiant teenager into a fine young man who later became—” Nora hesitated and their eyes met “—your ex-husband.”

For an instant, Brianna felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath. “I had no idea Michael was back in the country,” she said finally, after an uncomfortable pause. The last she’d heard, he was in Iraq or some such place.

Nora shook her head. “He’s been out of Special Forces for over two years now.”

Brianna felt a wrench of agony, as if Nora had betrayed her. Immediately, she felt guilty for such pettiness. Her aunt Nora and uncle, the Judge, had been like parents to Michael, and many troubled students like him, long before Brianna had met him.

Her throat tightened, and she glanced to see Nora’s compassionate gaze studying her.

“Seven years is a long time,” Nora said. “Mike has changed, just as you have.”

“Some things don’t change.”

The words echoed between them, and Brianna could feel what little was left of her self-control unravel. “I’m certain in a city the size of New York we can find someone else who—”

“My dear, please listen—”

“I’m afraid not. The subject is closed.”

Her aunt’s lips narrowed, her chin lifted. “I had no idea you still have such strong feelings for Mike.”

“I don’t! How could you say that? Since our divorce, I’ve had other relationships. I was engaged to Jordan for a year.”

Nora’s mouth lifted slightly. “Six months.”

She glared at her aunt. “Well, it felt like a year.”

“Then if you have no emotional baggage where Mike is concerned, you can call him in the morning.”

Brianna counted to ten before she spoke. “Maybe Mike won’t want to see me,” she said with more sharpness than she’d have liked.

Mike walked out on our marriage, joined the army without a word. Without any attempt to fight for what had been good between us. The sudden stab of rancor surprised her.

Nora’s eyes softened with kindness. “Whoever is sending these pictures is a real threat. You know as well as I do that Mike will see you,” she added gently. “And you can trust him to know what to do.”

Brianna bristled, unable to stop herself. “I don’t want Mike in my life again.”

Nora put a hand on her niece’s arm. “I’m only asking that you show Mike the photographs. He’ll put you in touch with people who can help.”

If they didn’t agree soon, neither of them would get any sleep. “Very well, Nora. I’ll think about it.”

Nora pursed her lips. “You looked just like your father just then, when he was a little boy, trying to get out of something.” She tilted her chin in challenge. “You either agree to see Mike or I’m canceling my trip.”

Brianna groaned. Nora meant well, but she had no idea the real reason behind the failure of her marriage. They were doomed before the ink was dry on the marriage license.

Michael Landis had been her first love, and maybe the only man she would ever love. That fact had become painfully clear while she’d been engaged to Jordan. Poor Jordan. Their relationship never had a chance.

Dear God, she hoped she’d never love someone as she’d loved Mike. Love like that had almost destroyed her.

“I’m not being evasive, Nora. It’s…it’s… Oh, how could you forget what Mike did? He signed the divorce papers and walked away without so much as a look back. He never even tried to stand up to my father and fight for our marriage, or for me.” Hot tears stung her eyes as the pain of those days hit her with the force of a tornado.

Seven years still wasn’t long enough to forget the pain.

Nora’s lips pressed together. “I know your father never approved of Mike, but—”

“And Dad was right.” She fought back the sting of tears. “He always said that Mike would jump ship, just like his mother did.”

“You’ve never heard Mike’s side of it.”

“Not because I didn’t try.” Brianna closed her eyes, fighting the flood of memories she thought were buried years ago. “I’m sorry, Nora. I know you’re only trying to help.” She took a shaky breath. “But I won’t contact Mike.”

“Then I’m staying with you until the stalker is caught. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Brianna stared at her aunt. “Be reasonable—”

“You’re the one who’s not being reasonable.” Her aunt folded her arms across her chest in that familiar stubborn gesture. “Either you make an appointment to see Mike, or I’m not leaving the city,” Nora repeated.

Exasperated, Brianna shook her head. “Mike considers me the biggest mistake of his life. I’m certain he’ll suggest another agency.”

Her aunt’s eyes twinkled. “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against Brianna’s cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning, dear.” She was smiling as she hurried down the hall toward the guest room.

Brianna cradled her head in her hands and groaned. Dear God, didn’t Nora realize that remaining here with Brianna could be dangerous? Who knew what motive the stalker had for frightening her with these photographs?

She glanced at the chilling reminder—the envelope beneath the door. Who knew what the stalker really wanted? He knew where she worked, where she lived. What was next?

She closed her eyes from the threat of involving Nora in this. If making an appointment with Mike would get her aunt safely on the plane to Denver, then dammit, she could do it.

MIKE LANDIS SAT at the computer terminal, the telephone receiver wedged between his neck and shoulder. He let out a low whistle as he scrolled down through the wedding pictures that he’d received on e-mail. “For a homely cuss, you’ve got a sister who’s one gorgeous bride,” he said to his partner and best buddy, Liam O’Shea. “Did you tell Stacey that I was sorry to miss her wedding?”

On the other end of the line, Mike heard Liam’s sigh. “Yeah, but she forgives you. She knew you were watching the shop so her big brother could walk her down the aisle.”

Mike smiled, remembering Liam’s loud, Irish family in south Boston. Whenever he’d spent time with Liam’s mom and six sisters, he felt envy for all that he’d missed from his own childhood. Liam was one lucky guy.

“As if an act of war could keep you from giving Stacey away,” Mike said finally.

“I can’t believe my baby sister is old enough to be married.”

“Seems like only last week when you were running surveillance on her boyfriends.”

“Yeah, well…we’re getting old, pal. Time we were settling down.”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like your matchmaking sisters are working to snare you into the marriage trap.” Mike chuckled. “Better hop a plane and escape while you still can.”

“Actually, my sister Caitlin had hoped you’d be at the wedding. She’d invited the perfect woman for you. A kindergarten teacher.”

Mike groaned. “Thank Caitlin for me, but my tastes run to less-than-perfect women.”

“Well, you know Cait. She loves a challenge.”

“Hmm.” After a short pause, Mike scrolled down to a picture of Liam, his arm around a stunning brunette. “Looks like Cait found someone for you, though. Who is she?”

“She’s the kindergarten teacher. I couldn’t disappoint my sister, now, could I, ol’ buddy?”

“Right, ol’ buddy.” Mike laughed.

“Say, why don’t you and Jake fly down for the weekend. We’ll go fishing off the Cape. Mom would love to have you, and Uncle Davy is here with a jug of his homemade wine.”

“That’s a winning offer, but Jake’s in a Miami hospital. He was stung by a jellyfish while wading along a moonlit beach. A beauty queen on each arm, to hear him tell it. He had a nasty reaction to whatever it was the doctors gave him. He won’t be back for another week.”

Liam swore. “Sure you don’t want me back at the office? With Clete and Russell in Saudi, you’re all alone.”

“Nothing’s on the docket till next week. You’ll owe me two tickets on the Yankees’ first-base line when you finally drag your ugly carcass back to the office.”

“You got ’em. In the meantime, I’ll just have to play nice with my sisters’ girlfriends, all of whom are hot and sexy, I might add.”

At the sound of the soft rap at the door, Mike looked up to see his secretary, Bailey, stick her head inside the door. She scowled and waved a file folder at him in a hurry-up gesture.

“Gotta go, Liam. I’ll call you later.” He hung up and turned toward Bailey.

“You reminded me of your dad just now. Must have been the scowl.”

She wrinkled her pug nose and grinned. “What a lovely compliment, Mike. Dad was six foot five, almost three hundred pounds of muscle, and wore size eighteen combat boots.” She feigned a glare. “I’m a size four, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He grinned. “You know what I mean. The same red hair. Same freckles. Same sass.”

She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled as she moved to the side of his desk and gazed at the framed picture of the Fifth Special Forces TALON-team that hung on the wall beside the bookcase. Six rugged men, dressed in combat tiger stripes, their faces darkened with camouflage grease, stood at the edge of the Colombian jungle, staring somberly into the camera. The picture was taken just six weeks before Bailey’s father, Master Sergeant Stewart Thomas was killed in action. From that time on, the five remaining members of TALON-team vowed to take care of Stu’s wife and daughter as their own family.

“Since I’ve come to work with all of you here at TALON-6,” Bailey said, her voice tight, “I’ve come to realize how lucky Dad was to have you guys in his life.”

“Your dad would be real proud of you, Bailey.”

She nodded, her eyes bright. “Oh, before I forget,” she said, her manner suddenly all-business. She put the file folder in front of Mike on the desk. “You have a client waiting. She refused to fill out the standard office questionnaire. Said it may not be necessary because you might not want to take her case.”

Mike glanced up, curious. “Funny thing to say. Did she say why?”

Bailey shook her head. “No. But I’d see her if I were you. She’s drop-dead gorgeous with legs a mile long. And she’s not wearing a wedding band.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Not you, too. I don’t need any help with my love life, thank you.”

Bailey grinned. “Only trying to help. With Clete and Russell out of the country, Liam at Stacey’s wedding and Jake holed up in a Florida hospital, you’ve got smooth sailing.”

He growled. “Out of here. Oh, by the way, does Miss America have a name?”

“Yeah. Her name is on the folder in front of your nose. Brianna Kent,” she said as she stepped out the door.

Brianna Kent? Mike swiveled in his chair and opened the folder. He reached into his T-shirt pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he’d given up the filthy habit over two years ago.

Bailey must have heard the name wrong. He almost clicked on the office intercom for her to recheck the name, but he knew deep down in his gut that this was his Brianna. He’d always had a sixth sense where she was concerned.

His phone buzzed and he pressed the lever. He heard Bailey’s voice ask, “Mike, shall I send her in?”

Refuse. Say you’re not taking new clients. Mike took a deep breath and braced himself.

Well, if she could face him, then he’d face her, too. “Send her in.”

Mike rose, shrugged into his jacket and raked his hair back by the time the door swung open and Brianna Kent stepped into his office.