Nowhere Safe

CHAPTER 18



Trish kept checking over her shoulder all the way down the hall to the task force offices. She poked her head inside the door.

Zane’s truck had not been in his favorite spot in the parking garage a block away, but Trish still worried he’d just appear. Coast was clear. She walked in and called out, “Leanne?”

“Come on in. I’m on hold.”

Trish went into Leanne’s office and closed the door. When Leanne looked up, Trish whispered, “I’m a little early.”

“That’s okay.” Leanne waved her to a basic gray side chair, then finished requesting a file to be sent electronically and hung up her landline. She wore burgundy pants and a white jacket trimmed in black, another classy outfit that suited her lush figure.

Showing off perfect teeth behind ruby red lips when she smiled, Leanne put her pen down. “What’s up?”

“I need some advice.”

“What kind? Men?” Leanne’s eyes widened with mock surprise.

“No.” Trish laughed. “But now that you mention it, I do have a question. Did you tell Zane that Josh was gay?”

Leanne grinned. “Yes, I did.”

“But he’s not, Sugar.”

“I know.” Leanne arched a conspiratorial eyebrow.

“Then why did you lie to Zane?”

“Because your brother’s reactions are so extreme when it comes to you or Angel that it’s absurd. When I couldn’t go to the banquet, I knew he wouldn’t want you going alone or with an eligible man. The only male he might have considered asking was Ben. You wouldn’t have wanted Ben to go when he has a new baby.”

“You’re right,” Trish admitted.

Leanne shrugged. “You’ve been working your buns off and deserved to get out for a night. When Josh spoke up, I figured Zane would be more inclined to agree if he thought Josh was gay. He’s gorgeous and you know how guys always think any hot-looking man is gay.”

“You’ll love this.” Trish relayed what Bunko had said about Josh and the Chippendales dancers. She and Leanne erupted in give-me-a-break laughter.

“Anyhow,” Leanne said, catching her breath. “With Josh rarely in the office, I figured Zane didn’t know him well and would buy into the gay thing easily enough, which he did. I would have told you yesterday, but you left too fast and I got sucked into a meeting right after that. You obviously figured it out.”

Not soon enough. “Now it all makes sense.”

“Josh seems sweet and sexy as hell,” Leanne added. “How’d the date go?”

“Wasn’t really a date, but we had an interesting night.”

“That’s great. By the time Zane figures out the truth, it’ll be too late for him to interfere.”

Trish felt the need to clear up any confusion. “Josh and I are not going to be an item.”

“Why not? You don’t like him?”

It did sound insane when Trish heard it that way. “The problem isn’t him. It’s me. I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

Leanne’s eyes warmed with understanding. “I hear ya.”

“What are you going to do when Zane finds out the truth on Josh and blows his top?”

“Give him my prom queen reaction.” Leanne slapped her hands up against her cheeks and made an exaggerated shocked face.

It was so hilarious to think of Leanne doing that, Trish busted up again. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d enjoyed laughing so much. “Good luck with that.”

Lowering her hands to her desk, Leanne winked. “Your brother’s a marshmallow when it comes to women. He’s no real threat.”

“I agree, which reminds me of one more question in that direction, sort of.” Trish debated for a moment, but Leanne made it so easy for her to share things and she knew Leanne would give her a straight answer. “If you knew a woman who was being stalked and she had a good reason for not going to the police, what would you tell her to do if she knew the identity of the stalker?”

Leanne gave her an odd look at first, then she frowned with serious consideration. Her eyes filled with concern. “We’re not talking about you, right?”

“No, of course not,” Trish lied.

“Is it a dumped boyfriend or something?”

When she caught the unease in Leanne’s voice, Trish realized it was unfair to expect guidance without sharing more information. “My...friend...thinks he’s a ...business competitor.” Could be Big Charlie.

“Ah. I get it.” Leanne nodded. “I had a stalker once at a gym. I think it’s a passive aggressive personality because they sneak around when they’re trying to intimidate you. He was aggressive only when other people were watching so I waited for him to leave one night and caught him alone in the parking lot.”

“Oh, my God. Did you kick his ass?”

Leanne shook her head. “With my training, I could have, but that would have gotten me disciplined by my agency. When I confronted the guy, I called him on what he was doing and warned him what would happen if he bothered me again. I told him I had plenty of evidence, which I did, that my friends at the DEA would be happy to review. Those men are spineless. They’ll back down when someone gets in their face.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Trish murmured.

“But tell your friend that still doesn’t mean to take any chances,” Leanne warned with the tone of an older sister.

“I will.” This new information gave Trish something to think about.

“Now, what did you need to talk about?”

Trish explained the details of the competition and that she’d tried to get through to Senator Dixon. “I’m hoping since your dad’s a senator you could tell me how I can convince Senator Dixon to interrupt his busy schedule to fly down for something as frivolous as this television show. I can’t come up with a reason for him to do this that has merit in my mind.”

Leanne leaned back in her chair, tapping a pen against her palm. “You have to think about motivation for how a senator from Chicago would benefit by an event in Miami when he’s not in the middle of a campaign period.” She paused to smile sheepishly. “But my dad says a politician is always in campaign mode.”

“The only thing I have to offer him is a chance to win money that will be donated to his favorite charity.”

Leanne studied on that then sat forward quickly and snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”

“What is?”

“Dixon has a tough time gaining the female vote. He comes across as not sympathetic to women’s issues. Makes you wonder how he found a wife,” Leanne joked. “Give him a reason to earn goodwill with women and he might come in.”

Trish hadn’t looked at this from Dixon’s political perspective.

Leanne paused, a sly smile crossing her lips and her eyes lit up then she frowned.

Trish prodded. “That looks like you have an idea. What is it?”

“Well, it might be a good idea, but it’s devious.”

“I like it already.” Considering that she was running out of time, if devious was expedient, Trish was in.

“First, figure out a women’s charity to donate to that could use the exposure, maybe even something local. Then call Dixon’s campaign manager and tell him you have an opportunity for Senator Dixon that would raise awareness among female voters, but you have a deadline to meet and need to firm up a name.”

“That’s actually the truth.”

Leanne paused to move her mouse and click a couple of times, her eyes going back and forth, reading. “Here’s Dixon’s campaign manager and contact information.”

Trish grabbed a sticky from Leanne’s desk and a pen, writing as Leanne rattled off the information. “Got it.”

Raising an excited gaze to Trish, Leanne said, “Here’s the clincher. Tell him no problem if Senator Dixon isn’t available, because your producers will be fine with Senator Witherspoon taking his place instead.”

Trish stopped writing. “Really?”

“Of course not. I love antiques, but my dad doesn’t know squat about them.” Leanne laughed. “However, Dixon and my dad have always had a friendly rivalry from back when they played college ball against each other. Dixon knows my dad isn’t an antiques buff, but he’ll assume that I’d help my dad with this. I’m thinking if he has any wiggle room in his schedule and this is presented as a challenge that comes with a chance to do a high-profile event where money is donated to a women’s charity, he might just agree.”

“That’s a great plan.”

“I can’t say for sure it’ll work.”

“It’s better than what I had when I walked in here,” Trish admitted, relieved to see a real possibility when she’d thought all was lost.

Leanne leaned forward, arms propped on her desk. “But do me a favor and don’t ever tell my dad I helped you with this. It’ll be bad enough to hear him gripe about Dixon getting one up on him without catching hell for conspiring with the enemy.” She snickered. “Whenever I want my dad to do something–like losing a few pounds recently–I tell him Dixon could do it. My dad gets all huffy, but he rises to the challenge. From what I’ve heard, Dixon is the same way if my dad is involved. Men are so easy some days.”

“You and your dad are really close, huh?”

“Oh, yes.” Leanne got quiet and her eyes softened. “Even closer after my mom died four years ago. She’d been battling cancer for a long time and not really getting better, but we didn’t expect her to go downhill literally overnight. It took a while to realize it was a blessing to have her out of pain.”

Trish had never envied something like Leanne’s beauty, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit how much she wished to have had a relationship that close with her dad. “You’re fortunate to have a great dad and he’s lucky to have you.”

“I agree. We’d do anything for each other.”

Checking her watch, Trish stood up. “I hate to run, but I am on a deadline to get someone booked for my segment of the show. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help today.”

Leanne stood, too. “No big deal. I’m excited about this opportunity. Hope it works out with Dixon, and Josh, too.”

Trish let that last part go. She was jazzed to put this plan into motion and get out of the building before she ran into Zane. Outside, she rushed to her car but stayed in the parking deck to make the call to Dixon’s campaign manager while she was stationary rather than risk dropping the cellular call.

After waiting on hold, she was put through to a man with a nice voice. When she’d finished laying out her offer, pausing for effect, then adding the part Leanne had suggested about offering this opportunity to Senator Witherspoon, the campaign manager said, “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll call you back.”

She felt a jolt of adrenaline at the positive sound in his voice and started her drive home.

When her phone rang five minutes later, she answered cheerfully. “Trish Jackson.”

“Well, well, Missy. How ya’ doin’?”

“What do you want, Charlie?” Trish would hang up if another call came through and not even feel rude about it.

“I’m over here with your buddy, Gunter. He’s not interested in my offer unless you sell out, too. Do I have to keep pressing my position?”

Gunter might benefit by selling to Charlie, but she didn’t want his decision predicated on hers. What had Charlie said to squeeze Gunter into a corner? “What Gunter does is entirely up to him. I’m not interested.”

“Sure you want to keep pushing me, Missy?” Charlie said that so softly it raised goose bumps on Trish’s skin. Could Charlie be the stalker? If so, why had he terrorized her that night she had to sit in the car?

To break down her confidence?

Constantly threatening Zane might just be a way to insure she didn’t tell her brother what was going on.

Would Charlie back down if she confronted him about the stalking? Was he just being passive aggressive? It might be time to do what Leanne had done and meet Charlie alone, but not in a dark parking lot. Just somewhere he had no audience that fed his need to show off and be arrogant.

What if he wasn’t the stalker?

Worst case, he’d laugh at her. How much worse could that be than this? She was tired of being harassed by the blowhard. “Tell you what, Charlie. I do want to talk to you, but it has to be alone.”

“Now you’re talkin’, sweet thang.” He chuckled.

The smug dog. “Come by my shop at six tonight and–”

“Can’t do that. You want to talk to me, you gotta come to my place and I can’t meet until six-thirty.”

“That’s too far. I have plans tonight.”

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout my offices. Hell, I don’t want to fight traffic back there today either. I got a warehouse not far from you. Won’t be no one around but the two of us by that time.”

She didn’t like the sound of that even if she had been the one to set the terms of this meeting.

He must have caught her hesitation. “Parkin’ lot’s lit up and it’s a safe area.” He gave her the address. “I can leave the back door unlocked. But if you don’t feel right when you get there, just call me and I’ll come out to walk you in.”

From anyone else, that would have sounded chivalrous. Not a chance from Charlie. He’d love for her to call him like some damsel in distress. That day would never happen. The warehouse location was a decent area. She’d carry pepper spray to deal with anyone who walked up to her in the lot, and she’d take her fighting knife, just in case. “I’ll be there at six-thirty.”

“Lookin’ forward to negotiatin’ terms with you.”

Let the fool think she was going to sell.

That way he’d be waiting all fat and happy, literally, which would catch him off guard when she asked him if he was stalking her.

She’d just hung up the phone when Dixon’s campaign manager called back, saying, “Senator Dixon has a cancellation in his schedule. He’s available for your event, depending on if we can work out the timeline. Email me the particulars so I can make arrangements and firm up the details.”

Holy crap, she had a celebrity guest.

She replied in a calm professional tone, hung up the call and shouted, laughing at what she’d just pulled off. Her moment of joy lasted for the next mile when traffic bogged down. She had to get back to load her information into the computer page for the show before six.

And she had to bail on dinner with Josh. She wouldn’t get home from Charlie’s until half past seven at the earliest. She lifted the phone, hoping she got Josh’s voice mail.