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  “I haven’t talked to him in years,” I said. I’d never kept up with any of the guys; I’d wanted to stay as far away from them as I could.

  “Yes, you’d think he would’ve learned, but he didn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  “He tried another scheme, and this time he tried to cheat the wrong people. His body was found in the Hudson River a few years after Chancellor Finance closed.”

  My palms grew sweaty. “I hadn’t heard that,” I said as I wiped my hands on my pants. “I’m out of all that now.”

  “Just keep it that way.” He wished me well and hung up.

  I hadn’t even set the phone down when it rang again. It was Ace.

  “Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

  “I’m reporting in,” he said, trying to make his lazy drawl sound a bit more official.

  “Okay, what happened?”

  “I’m in your 4-Runner. I saw that sedan follow me, but after a couple of blocks, he turned off. Why didn’t he stay with me?”

  “He probably decided to go back to the restaurant to see if Stephanie and I were still inside.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” he said.

  “You did great. Park the 4-Runner in the garage and hang on to my keys. And if you see that sedan around, give me a call.”

  “Do you think whoever’s driving it will bother us?”

  “No,” I said. “They’re after Stephanie, not us. But if something does happen, call the police.”

  “Okay, over and out.”

  I sighed as I hung up the phone, then set it down and stared at my computer screen. We’d successfully lost the tail, but I’ll bet he’d show up soon.

  Chapter Nine

  I shut off the computer and got up.

  “I guess if I’m a bodyguard I should make sure no one can get in here without my knowing,” I said to the emptiness.

  I tiptoed down the hallway, stood in front of Stephanie’s door and listened. Her TV was on, but I didn’t hear her. I almost knocked, then decided against it. Why disturb a poisonous snake if I didn’t have to?

  I went into the spare bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was modern and sparse, with a white platform bed, matching dressers and night stands, and a huge abstract painting hung above the bed. Tidy and uninviting. I checked the windows, noting they couldn’t be opened. I strolled through the rest of the condo, spotting nothing to be concerned with, then went back onto the patio. It was much fancier and larger than most balconies, with stone flooring, thick concrete walls instead of railings, and flower planters. I walked to the edge, leaned on the wall, and looked around, then up. I didn’t see any way that someone could access Stephanie’s balcony, unless they used ropes and lowered themselves from another balcony a few floors above. It was something to keep in mind.

  I turned and looked around. Her condo was on the south side of the building and I craned my neck to see toward the front. I wondered if the black sedan was parked on the street, waiting for us to come out. I doubted Stephanie would want to stay cooped up here all night. So when she wanted to leave, what would happen? Did our tail know what car she drove?

  My survey complete, I went back inside, kicked off my shoes and lay down on the couch. It may have been expensive, but it wasn’t very comfortable. Despite that, I soon dozed off.

  I bolted awake when the front door opened and then slammed shut. Heels clicked down the apartment hall, then Stephanie’s bedroom door opened and closed.

  I padded down the hall and stood in front of the door. Over the sound of the TV came a periodic laugh or squeal. I glanced at my watch: seven-thirty. I knocked on the door.

  “Wha-at?” said an annoyed voice.

  I put my face close to the door and spoke loudly. “What do you want to do about dinner?”

  A moment later the door jerked open.

  “What?” Stephanie asked. She was in sweats and her hair was rumpled, like she’d been sleeping. Not that I could point a finger.

  “Are you hungry?” I tried to look over her shoulder as I talked.

  “Um, I guess.” She yawned.

  “Don’t play games with him,” said another sultry voice. Then the owner of the voice appeared next to Stephanie. She looked me up and down. “So this is your bodyguard.”

  I introduced myself and appraised her. Stephanie’s age, taller, maybe five-ten, with wavy red hair and eyes similar to mine – hazel – but hers had a mischievous sparkle in them.

  “I’m Brittany Nicholson.” She wore a tight black-and-white leopard skin skirt, a low-cut black shirt, black heels, lots of dark makeup and silver jewelry.

  “You like Chinese? I ordered some before I came over. Should be here any minute.” She stepped past me and strutted down the hall.

  Stephanie ran a hand through her hair, then leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. “I had lunch with you,” she said. “Do I have to eat dinner with you, too?”

  “All your meals,” I said, throwing her a wide smile.

  “Gawd.”

  “I’m kidding. I can eat in the living room if it would make you more comfortable.”

  She glared at me for a second. “Yeah, then you’ll make a big deal about eating alone.” She brushed past me as a buzz rang out, then whirled around. “Come on, then.”

  I followed her into the entryway, where she spoke into an intercom near the door, speaking to the doorman.

  I rushed up to her. “Hold on. I’ll get the door.”

  “Why?”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m your bodyguard…”

  “The doorman just said he’s sending the delivery guy up”

  “Someone could be pretending to be the delivery guy.”

  “Whatever,” she said.

  I got the Glock from the bedroom and returned to the foyer. A minute later, the doorbell chimed, announcing the Chinese food delivery. Stephanie gave me money and I shooed her into the kitchen. Then I gazed out the peephole. A young Asian guy stood in the hallway, holding a big bag in both hands. He looked harmless. I held the Glock behind my back and cracked the door open.

  “Here’s your order,” the delivery guy said. He held up the bag with one hand and fiddled with a receipt.

  I tucked the Glock behind my back and paid him, then closed and locked the door. I took the food into the kitchen, where Stephanie and Brittany were waiting.

  “What do you want to drink?” Brittany asked as she rummaged in the fridge.

  “Bottled water’s fine,” I said as I sat down at a glass-topped table.

  Stephanie came in and set a brown paper bag on the table.

  “I’m famished,” Brittany said as she plopped into a chair. She gave us each a bottled water and we dove into the bag.

  They were either too hungry to talk, or they didn’t know how to conduct themselves with a stranger in their midst, because they didn’t say a word until we’d eaten almost everything. As I shoveled moo-shu pork into my mouth with chopsticks, I felt Brittany’s eyes on me.

  “What?” I said with my mouth full.

  She tipped her head as her eyes roved over me. “He’s kinda cute,” she said as she played with a strand of her hair.

  “Ew,” Stephanie said.

  “I said kinda.” Brittany had the same irritating habit of emphasizing certain words for effect. “His nose is funny-looking.”

  “That’s not the only thing that’s funny-looking,” Stephanie snickered.

  Brittany leaned down and looked under the table. “Hmm.”

  “I didn’t mean that!” Stephanie threw a chopstick at her. “It’s his ears. Oh, and that haircut.”

  “I’m right here,” I said.

  “And he thinks he’s funny, like humorous, but he’s not.” Stephanie glared at me.

  I changed the subject. “What are your plans for tonight?”

  “We’re going to hang here,” Stephanie said. I glanced at Brittany’s outfit and raised my eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that,” she continued. �
��Brittany brought a couple of DVDs. We’ll watch them in my bedroom so you won’t be disturbed.”

  “Uh huh.” I didn’t believe her.

  “Oh, relax.” Brittany leaned over and patted my cheek. “We won’t give you any trouble.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Come on.” Stephanie got up, grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle of vodka from a cupboard and traipsed out of the kitchen, Brittany at her heels.

  I sat for a minute, finishing my dinner and enjoying the silence, wondering how long it would last.

  A little before eleven I knocked on the bedroom door and announced that I was going to bed.

  “There are clean sheets on the bed,” Stephanie hollered, the first charitable thing to come out of her mouth.

  “Thanks.”

  I went into the spare bedroom, pulled a blanket off the bed and came back into the hallway, closing the door behind me. I tiptoed back to the living room and lay down on the couch. Even though a real bed was tempting, I didn’t trust the vodka vixens. And it turned out my suspicions were justified within minutes.

  I don’t know how they expected to fool me, as I could hear them whispering loudly as they came out of Stephanie’s room.

  “His door’s closed,” Brittany whispered.

  “Sh.”

  I stood up and crept toward the entryway.

  “Are you sure you want to go out?” Brittany asked quietly.

  “Not go out on a Saturday night? Are you crazy?” Stephanie murmured.

  “Okay, but if he’s after us, maybe we should have the bodyguard go with us.”

  “We don’t know if it’s true,” Stephanie said. “And do you really want Reed hanging with us all night?”

  They appeared through the shadows. Stephanie was now dressed similarly to Brittany, same skirt and shirt, varying her makeup and jewelry. They both wore leather coats and held high heels in their hands. In the dimness, they could’ve been twins. As Stephanie grabbed the doorknob, I spoke.

  “Where are we going?”

  They both shrieked, heels flying, hands waving around. I flicked on the lights.

  “You scared us to death!” Stephanie screeched. She picked up a heel and threw it at me.

  “You shouldn’t have tried to sneak out,” I said as I ducked.

  “You’re ruining my life!” she whined.

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Hardly.”

  Brittany assessed me, her arms crossed. Then she giggled. “He’s smarter than you said.”

  I gave a slight bow, and she giggled again.

  “Now what do we do?” Stephanie asked.

  “I guess he’ll have to come with us,” Brittany said. “We’ll pretend he’s your older cousin.”

  They stared at me as if assessing whether this story could ring true.

  “A much older cousin,” Stephanie finally said.

  “I wish he wasn’t dressed like a hobo.” Brittany sighed. “But he’ll do.”

  “This isn’t a good idea,” I said. They both appeared tipsy, and who knows what drugs they might’ve done.

  “Why not?” Brittany asked.

  I looked at Stephanie. “Didn’t you tell her about the car following us?”

  “She did,” Brittany said. “And we’ve got it figured out. We’ll be in public the whole time. We won’t even go to the bathroom alone.”

  I smiled. “Won’t that be awkward with me there?”

  “What?” they both chirped.

  “If you insist on going out, I’m going with you. Everywhere.”

  Brittany snickered.

  Stephanie’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I hate my father,” she said as she huffed past me to retrieve her heels. Then she gestured at me. “Well, come on, then.”

  I hadn’t been clubbing in years. And after this night, I never wanted to go again.

  Chapter Ten

  “Give me your car keys,” I said a bit later as we got off the elevator in the underground garage.

  “Not on your life,” Stephanie said.

  I stepped in front of her and did a quick one-eighty, and she plowed right into me.

  “What is your problem?” she hissed.

  “Did you forget that someone followed us earlier?” I asked.

  “Duh.” She put her hands on her hips.

  “So I need to drive, in case we’re followed again.” She wouldn’t know how to elude anyone, and I also wasn’t about to get into a car that she was driving, given her ‘altered’ state.

  We locked eyes. I gave her a look that dared her to try me.

  “Fine,” she finally said, shoving the keys at me.

  I took the keys and we got into the BMW. I was on high alert as we exited the garage. I edged the car onto the street, looking both ways for anything suspicious. I spied Brittany behind us, tagging along in her Mercedes.

  “Where to?” I asked. “Club Vinyl?”

  “Ew,” Stephanie. “The same club two nights in a row? I don’t think so.”

  “How about The Church?” I mentioned an old Gothic-style church on Lincoln Street that had been turned into a nightclub. “I used to go there some because they played a lot of alternative music. Do you know it?”

  “Everyone knows The Church, and yes, they play alternative, but not on Saturday nights.”

  “What do they play now?”

  “Latin,” she said sourly. “So we’re going to Milk. It’s on Broadway, near Club Vinyl, so it should be easy for you to find.”

  “You’re good. You’re very good,” I said, trying to sound like Bogie. It was a quote from The Maltese Falcon, but it was completely wasted on her.

  I drove slowly down the block, my eyes constantly darting to the mirrors.

  “See anyone?” Stephanie’s tone dripped with sarcasm, but she’d also been watching.

  “No, did you?”

  She shook her head. She pulled out her phone and began texting.

  “Mind if we have some music?” I asked.

  She barely nodded, too focused on her phone. I turned on the radio and tuned in an 80’s station. The Psychedelic Furs started playing.

  Her thumbs stopped moving and she turned toward me. “You like this?”

  “Yeah. “All That Money Wants” is a classic. I just said that I love alternative.” I talked, but she obviously didn’t listen.

  “Then you’ll love Milk. It’s Goth and they play 80’s-90’s alternative.” She went back to texting, signaling the conversation was over.

  I stayed vigilant but didn’t see anyone tailing us, other than Brittany. But they were out there, I was certain. We drove through downtown and I soon parked in a lot across the street from Milk. Brittany pulled into a place nearby and we walked to the club. It was similar to Club Vinyl, in that it had multiple rooms and played the same house music, but Milk was a 21 and over crowd, so I didn’t stick out…at least not quite as much. Once inside, they made a beeline for the bar and ordered apple martinis for themselves and water for me, and we went to a side room. They finished off the martinis and Brittany sauntered back to the bar for more.

  “You might want to slow down,” I said as I looked at the crowd. It was definitely Goth, most people in dark clothes and makeup, lots of spiked and colored hair, and plenty of tattoos and body piercings.

  Stephanie cocked her head. “Really, try not to act like an old fart.”

  “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “I can be drunk while you do it.”

  “ ‘The whole world is about three drinks behind’,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s a quote from Humphrey Bogart.”

  “Wasn’t he that old actor?”

  “Yeah, he –”

  She ignored me as Brittany returned, but my eyes were not on her. Near the door, a tall man in jeans and a black shirt seemed to be eyeing us. He was about Stephanie’s age, with an athletic build, dark hair cropped short and long sideburns. As we sat and drank, the girls with more martinis, I with my water, the guy continued to w
atch us. Was he noticing two hot girls, and was I being paranoid again? But this was what I was being paid for. A moment later, he was joined by another guy who brought him a beer, and after a few minutes they moved on.

  “Let’s check out the Green Room,” Stephanie said. Her words were slightly slurred.

  “Yeah.” Brittany nodded.

  So we went to the Green Room, but didn’t stay long as it was so boring – Brittany’s words. We ended up back in the main room, standing near the dance floor.

  “What’s with the checkered decorating?” I asked, looking around at the walls.

  “It’s the Clockwork Orange room,” Brittany said. “From the movie.”

  I nodded, not particularly inspired by the vibe, but enjoying the music.

  “I really want to dance, but it’s going to be hard with him here,” Stephanie said over the sound of Nine Inch Nails.

  Brittany slammed down her drink. “Darling, who cares,” she said as she grabbed my arm.

  “Oops, wait,” I hesitated, then reached out for Stephanie. “We’re all in this together, remember?”

  Stephanie drained her glass and came with us. Out on the dance floor they moved with the beat. I consider myself a decent dancer. Soon they started playing with me, their moves teasingly seductive.

  “How about toning it down?” I said after a minute.

  “Am I embarrassing you?” Stephanie said.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s part of the job,” she sneered.

  “Uh huh.”

  As I danced, I noticed Sideburns near the wall, watching us. I looked around to see if his buddy was nearby. Nope. If Sideburns was interested in them, why not talk to them? Did he think they really were with me? I guess anything is possible…but I didn’t like it.

  “I think we should go now,” I said.

  “Why?” Brittany asked, pouting.

  “Don’t both look at once, but see that guy in the jeans and black shirt? With the sideburns?” I nodded behind them. “You recognize him?”