Power Play. Beverly Long
love Canon in D by Pachelbel. Hailey walked down the aisle to that and I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more lovely.”
“I was sorry to miss the wedding. But I couldn’t get leave. I did—” he stopped and smiled “—have a little input on the music so I’m glad to hear that it resonated with you.”
He seemed genuinely touched that she’d remembered the music. This was crazy. If Trey was part of it, she had no business being here. Wasn’t sophisticated enough or devious enough to banter back and forth without making a mistake and saying something that would get her into trouble.
It Trey wasn’t part of it, that was equally as bad. She couldn’t pick a worse time to become romantically involved with someone.
She took two more bites of her sandwich but then stopped. It hurt to swallow, to get the food past the lump in her throat.
“Food okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Just not as hungry as I thought.” The anxiety that she had mostly managed to keep at bay for the last several days seemed to take on new life. She pushed her chair back. “You know, I should go.”
“But we’re not done eating,” he said, looking very puzzled.
“Yeah, I know. You go ahead and finish.”
He studied her, then took the napkin off his lap and deliberately wiped his hands. Then tossed it onto the table. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
“No,” she said, too loudly, getting attention from the next table. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to make sure you get to your car safely,” he said. He threw enough bills on the table to cover their meals and a generous tip. They walked out of the restaurant and walked in silence.
“Careful,” he said.
She wasn’t quick enough to sidestep the puddle of dirty water that had pooled in a low spot near a flowering planter that had been overwatered. The water soaked into the bottom and sides of her boot. She kept walking. And within minutes, they reached the garage. “I’m right there,” she said, pointing to her Toyota that was parked maybe a hundred feet away.
“Okay.” He stayed by her side, until she got close enough to open the door. “Look,” he said. “I’m not sure what just—”
Her chest felt tight, as if it was hard to breathe. “What just happened is that I wised up. Listen, this is a bad idea.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Look, this might be a little weird with you being Anthony’s sister. But I’m attracted to you. I’d like to get to know you better.”
She shook her head. “I’m...I’m sorry.”
He held up a hand. “Earlier you said something about Anthony being jealous of my life. Your brother, he’s a great guy, but he can exaggerate. He’s got some crazy idea that I’m...”
“A stud?” she finished.
The parking lot was lit well enough that she could see the red creep up his neck.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “And if that’s what this is about, I’d like to offer a different perspective.”
He looked so uncomfortable that she almost relented. But that would be terribly foolish. This man had been Rodney Ballure’s roommate. For all she knew, they still hung out together.
“I’m not afraid of your reputation,” she said. “I’m just not interested.” She opened her car door, got in and shut the door. He made no move to stop her.
She started her car and drove away. When she looked in the rearview mirror, he was still standing there, watching her.
Minutes later, she realized that she was shaking as she navigated the strip. Not because she’d been afraid of Trey. No, even though she suspected his motives, she hadn’t felt the least bit physically afraid of him. He’d seemed genuinely puzzled that she’d busted out of there.
The shaking came from the knowledge that she had absolutely no idea who she could trust. It made her crazy. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing. It was so unfair that she’d stumbled upon a land mine through no fault of her own. And now she had to see it through.
She took a moment to breathe deeply. In and out. Five counts to each breath. After a minute or so, she felt better. More in control. She hung on to the steering wheel with both hands.
Lately she’d had a couple very intense panic attacks and they’d scared the hell out of her. The shaking, the not being able to catch her breath, the pounding headache.
The feeling afterward that she might just be quietly going crazy.
Her phone buzzed and she looked at the number. Miguel. He sometimes needed a ride to work and was good about arranging it in advance. It was not out of her way and she was happy to do it. But now, she let it go to voice mail. She’d call him back after a few hours of sleep. She felt unsettled enough that she didn’t want to talk to anyone.
She lived north of the city, not quite in North Las Vegas, which was a separate town, but close. In twelve minutes, she pulled into her parking spot, in the eight-stall carport at the rear of the building. Everybody was tucked in beside her. She squeezed into her space, wishing the guy next to her had paid a little more attention to the lines.
Trivial things to worry about, a dent here or there. Her Toyota was eleven years old. Who cared about another scratch or two? She really just wanted it to keep running for another few years.
She got out, hitched her backpack over one shoulder and walked quickly toward the building. Heard a twig snap behind her and felt her heart jump in her chest. She whirled, saw nothing, but she still took off running toward her building. Fumbled with her key but managed to get it in the door. Whipped it open.
Pulled it shut behind her. Tried to catch her breath.
She was being ridiculous. She’d lived in this apartment for months and there’d been absolutely no hint of trouble. It was a very safe area. She was paying a premium for rent but it had been important to Anthony that she live in a secure building that had off-street parking.
She took the elevator to the second floor. As was her habit, she glanced out the window at the end of the hallway. Street side, there was an ornamental plum tree in bloom that the landlord lit up with a spotlight. It was lovely when she went by in the car but from above, the pink flowers and dark red leaves were majestic.
She stepped back fast and her heart was back to beating triple time. Rodney Ballure was down there, leaning up against a dark-colored car. She was sure he had not been there when she’d turned into the driveway. He had a phone in his hand.
It didn’t mean that he was a danger to her.
But there was absolutely no reason for her boss to come to her apartment in the middle of the night. No reason except for the information that she had in her backpack.
She wanted to run inside her apartment and hide under the bed. But she could smell the faint odor of smoke. None of her neighbors smoked—the landlord was a freak about it. Wouldn’t rent to a smoker.
But somebody could easily have a visitor who had lit up. Her door was shut—it did not look tampered with.
Was she being crazy?
Maybe. But a nagging little voice in her head warned her that she could not afford to make a mistake. She quietly opened the stairway door. Ran down to the first floor. Eased open the side door.
She had her keys. She could try for her car. But Rodney would hear the engine, would see her leave the driveway. If he followed, she was confident that she didn’t have the driving skills to outrun a determined pursuer.
Screw the car. There was another way. She crossed the yard between her building and the one next door at a full run. Got to the far side of that building and stopped. She was gulping in the cold night air.