In a Heartbeat (27 page)

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In a Heartbeat

“What’s going on?” Angie murmured, pulling in front of the house.

She left Oreo barking in the car, the window cracked enough to release the captured sound.

“Ms. Blake?” A uniformed officer greeted her.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“We received a report last night that someone smashed your front window.” Angie looked at the large window facing the quiet residential street. A dark jagged hole, like some gaping wound, stared back. “We found a brick inside, but your brother says nothing else appears to be missing.”

“My brother?”

“Yes. Apparently your neighbor called him this morning when we couldn’t locate you. He’s in the house now, but since you’re back we’d like—”

Angie headed for the house before the officer could finish.

“Stephen?” she called from the front door. Her insides shook like a dying leaf clinging to a wind-tossed branch. “Stephen, where are you?”

“Here. Angie, I’m here.” She heard his footsteps pounding on the upstairs hallway. “Thank God. I was so worried.” He reached the ground floor and pulled her into a bear hug. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she reassured him. “What happened?”

“The breaking glass woke Walter. He came over here to see if you were all right, but you weren’t home.” Stephen pulled back to look at her face. “Where were you last night?”

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“Do the police think it was a burglary?” she asked, already suspecting the answer was no.

“Nothing seems to be missing, at least not that I can tell. But you didn’t answer—”

“Are you the young lady who lives here?” Another uniformed officer entered the hallway from the kitchen.

“Yes, that’s me.” She separated from Stephen.

“We’ve checked the house and property outside. If anyone was here, they’ve gone now. Is there someone who might have some sort of grudge against you that might pull this kind of prank?”

“No. No one that I know of,” she answered truthfully.

“Fired anyone at work? A jealous boyfriend or girlfriend? Anyone like that?”

“No,” she assured them. “No one.”

“I understand you filed a complaint a week or so ago about a prowler?”

“What?” Stephen exploded. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Calm down, Stephen. I didn’t think it was serious. If there was a prowler, he didn’t do anything. It was probably some kid celebrating Halloween a little early.” She knew it sounded lame but she didn’t want Stephen involving himself in her life anymore than he normally did.

“Well, we’d like you to take a look around to verify that nothing’s missing all the same,” the officer said. “Do you live here alone?”

“At the moment, it’s just my dog and me.” Angie said, scanning the sitting room. Other than shards of glass scattered among the furniture and rug, everything appeared in order.

“Dog?”

“She’s in my car.” Angie moved on to the dining room.

“She wasn’t here last night either?”

“No, Officer. She was with me. Neither one of us was here last night.”

She glared at Stephen. “Which was probably a good thing given the circumstances.” She moved on to the kitchen.

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“Well, miss. You might want to board up that window until it can be fixed. Your home insurance will probably cover the cost of replacing it…”

“I brought some wood to do just that,” Stephen said.

“I don’t think there’s anything else we can do here,” the officer said.

“Here’s my card.” He handed an official-looking business card. “If you think of anyone who might be responsible for this, or if you discover something is missing, call the number on the card. Otherwise we’ll keep an eye on the house during our patrols.”

I’ve heard that one before
, Angie thought, but she nodded consent.

The officer left to join his partner outside. Angie watched the patrol car back down the driveway before disappearing down the street. She retrieved Oreo from her tiny Civic.

“Angie, is everything okay?” Walter crossed his front lawn to intercept them. “I hope you don’t mind that I called Stephen. I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t home and I thought someone should…”

“It’s all right, Walter.” She patted his arm in reassurance. “You did the right thing.” The sound of a hammer pounding wood made them both glance back toward the house. Stephen had set to work boarding up the window. “But how did you know that I wasn’t home?”

“I heard the glass shatter and looked out the window. When I didn’t see anyone out on the street, I came out here. There wasn’t a single light on in the house and I didn’t even hear Oreo bark once. So I knew you weren’t home.”

Or we were both dead on the carpet
, she thought with a grimace. No sense spooking Walter. “You did the right thing,” she repeated.

“Why would someone throw a brick through your window?” Walter asked.

“Why would someone try to poison my dog?” She sighed. “I haven’t a clue and it’s beginning to spook me.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m right here next door.” Walter said, his eyeglasses reflecting the mid-morning sun.

“Thanks, Walter, you’ve already been a big help.” She turned and led Oreo up to the house, bracing herself for a confrontation with Stephen.

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He was finishing when she entered. She retrieved the broom and dustpan from the kitchen before entering the darkened sitting room.

“Pack up your clothes,” Stephen said the moment she stepped in the room. “I’m taking you home with me.”

“No.” She began sweeping the broken glass shards into a tidy pile.

“I’m staying here.”

“Are you crazy? Someone tried to break in here. You could have been killed!”

She stopped sweeping only long enough to make her point. “They threw a brick through the window, Stephen. That’s hardly attempted murder.”

“How close to attempted murder do they have to get?” He hesitated then collected his tools. “Pack your bags.”

“No.” She planted the broom and stood her ground. “We don’t even know if that brick was targeted for this house. Maybe they thought someone else lived here.” She stooped to brush the pile of glass into the plastic dustpan. “I’m not running from this house because of some stupid prank.”

“And if it’s not a prank?” He watched her for a moment, then took the dustpan from her hand. “Give me that. You could cut yourself with that broken glass.” She stood and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone,” he lectured. “It would be different if Mom were home. What if something should happen?”

“Walter’s next door. If I need help, I’ll call him.”

Stephen snorted, a guttural opinion of Walter’s attributes. “What if I ask Raymond to stay here with you? There’s room and—”

“No.” Angie interrupted. She could feel her own face blanching at the thought. How typical of Stephen to think that he was such a superior judge of character that he would suggest a man, who was little more than a stranger, stay with her.

“Why not?”

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“He gives me the creeps.” She tried unsuccessfully to suppress the goosebumps rising on her arms.

“He’s not so bad… You just have to get to know him better.” Stephen took the bits of glass back to the kitchen.

“I’d prefer not to.” Angie said an instant before bits of glass clattered into the trash bin. Stephen came back into the room.

“Tell you what, I’ll let you stay if…” Angie’s skin bristled at the word

“let” as if he had that kind of control over her. “Mom agrees to come home before next weekend. And,” he held up his hand as if expecting an argument, “I can have Raymond stop by periodically to check up on you.”

“Fine,” she said. Anything to get Stephen out of her hair. She had her baseball bat. She had her dog. She could put up with some minor intrusions by that creepazoid if it would make Stephen happy. Besides, she knew her mother was flying home this week anyway. The plane ticket was a gift from Aunt Ceal. It would be her mother’s first airplane flight.

Hah
, she thought with a smile,
another first
.

* * *

Monday morning dawned in a glorious array of deep velvety pinks across a deepening blue sky. Angie glanced in her rear view mirror on her way to work. “Red sky at morning, sailors take warning,” she recited, recalling the childhood rhyme. Hopefully, the scenic panorama was only a prediction of weather.

Last night, after she had put the earlier vandalism behind her and convinced herself it was a random act, she thought long and hard about her relationship with Hank and its effect on her work. She had reached a painful decision. She’d have to tell Falstaff that she was no longer independent with regard to Hayden Industries, without explaining the details, of course. No one had to know about that. Her pulse quickened with the memory, and her body tingled wanting more. “Stop that,” she ordered herself, knowing that this desire was not something that could be silenced with a verbal command. Pulling to a stop at an intersection, www.samhainpublishing.com 205

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she glanced in the rear view mirror. Did she look different? Would everyone know that she was now experienced?

The light turned and she moved forward with the traffic. Would she be able to look at Hank in the office, or say his name without melting into a languid pool of passion on the spot? For that matter, could he look at her and still maintain that aloof executive exterior? And Elizabeth, how would she take the news that Hank had chosen a lowly accountant over a glamorous fashion model? Not that Hank had promised anything.

Still his eyes told her more than words could. He loved her as much as she loved him; he just hadn’t realized it.

Love… She almost rear-ended the car in front of her. Her first real relationship and already she was calling it love! For one pregnant moment she could feel the life-defining thump of her heart pushing life-giving blood through her body. Her failing heart had taught her what it was like to miss out on a childhood. Hank had given that back to her, plus a taste of what it meant to join with a man. If only for those things, she would love Hank.

Max could finish the audit and perform the additional procedures.

The firm would still get the additional billings and hopefully, she would still get the promotion. Surely Hank would understand that she couldn’t do the work as he stipulated it. Of course, it would have helped matters if he had called last night. She had wanted to discuss her decision with him. She’d tried calling his house, but there was no answer.

She pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine. Yes, requesting removal from the Hayden engagement was the right decision, to do otherwise would be unethical. She could give up the promotion, but she couldn’t give up Hank.

“Best to get this over with,” she told her image in the rearview mirror.

She exited the car, shifted her shoulders back, lifted her chin, then marched into the building and up to the office. After exchanging “good mornings” with the receptionist, she headed straight for Falstaff’s office.

“Angie, good morning. Don’t you look nice today,” Teresa, Falstaff’s secretary, greeted her from behind her desk. She dropped the newspaper 206

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In a Heartbeat

she had been reading and peered closer at Angie over the gold-rimmed bifocals balanced on the tip of her nose. “You have a glow about you today, what’s different? New make-up?”

Already Angie could feel heat creeping up her cheeks. Undaunted, she smiled. “Must just be the light.” She nodded toward the office. “Is he in? I have something I want to run past him.”

“No, he called earlier this morning. Said he had to run out for some big powwow. I don’t imagine he’ll be in till this afternoon. Would you like me to give him a message?”

“No.” Angie shook her head. “It can keep till tomorrow.” She turned to head back to her cubicle in the staff room.

“Angie, wait,” Teresa called. “Have you seen this?”

Angie turned, the quick move causing a twinge in her ankle. Teresa ruffled the newspaper at her. “This should probably go into Hayden’s permanent file. Why don’t you take it with you.”

Angie stepped closer to the desk. “What is it?” She bent over the paper and saw Hank’s picture.

“That new CEO… What’s his name?” Teresa frowned for a minute.

“You know, the good-looking one…”

“Renard”, Angie answered, quickly scanning the headline.
Hayden
announces executive engagement.

“That’s the one. He’s going to marry that model, Elizabeth Everett.

They’ve announced their engagement.” Teresa chortled. “The handsome ones never last long, do they?”

Angie felt the blood drain from her face. She leaned against the desk for support. “Engaged?”

“Hmmm.” Teresa adjusted her glasses and looked up at Angie. “Are you feeling all right? You look like you’re going to faint.”

Angie struggled a moment for breath. “I’m okay. I think I just turned too fast on my ankle,” she lied. Picking up the paper, she folded it and shoved it under her arm so Teresa wouldn’t notice her hands shaking.

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Then with an exaggerated limp to disguise her true injury, she hobbled back to her cubicle.

* * *

It took a full box of tissues to repair the damage from her crying jag in the women’s restroom. Afterwards, she tried to call Hank at work. He was out of town, she was told. Some emergency, Cathy said.

“Emergency my foot,” Angie murmured after hanging up the phone.

He must have hot-tailed it to New York so he could propose to Elizabeth.

Granted, he had never made promises to her. He had tried to tell her something on several occasions, but she had stopped him. Was this what he was trying to say? After all she knew he was dating Elizabeth and she, not Hank, initiated the idea of intimacy. Begged. She’d practically begged him to bed her. The burning in the corners of her eyes started anew.