Assumed Identity (11 page)

“Houseman. William Houseman. My friends call me Bill.”

“Are you a reporter, Mr. Houseman?”

“No.” He reached inside his suit jacket and handed her a business card. Robin was half afraid to take it at first, but she supposed a man who meant her harm wouldn’t so readily identify himself.

She verified his name on the card. “A banker?”

“What I do for a living isn’t important. I just want you to have my contact information.”

This one-way familiarity was getting on her nerves. Robin folded the card in her fist. “How do you know me? And don’t give me that family story again. We’ve never met.”

Bill Houseman leaned to one side and smiled down at Emma. When he wiggled his finger in Emma’s direction and elicited a chortle, Robin pulled the stroller closer to her body. “Actually, your daughter and I are family.”

A chill shivered down Robin’s spine despite the sun shining down on her. Was this another threat? “
I’m
her family. We have to go.”

“I need only a few minutes of your time.”

Traffic was picking up as employees in the nearby office buildings got off work. Robin hurried to catch up with a group leaving the business in front of her, but Houseman grabbed her arm. Robin shrugged him off. The people ahead were quickly disappearing into a parking garage. She wasn’t going to catch them and Bill Houseman apparently wasn’t going to leave her alone.

“Ms. Carter, you and your daughter are in great danger.”

The matter-of-fact statement stopped her in her tracks. “Is that a threat?”

“Why? Do you feel threatened?”

With a strange man following her? She took off again. “What do you think? Do you know something about what happened to me last night?”

“I think you’ll want to have this conversation in private.” He didn’t slur his words or ramble the way the woman on the phone had. Yet the effect was the same. This man was a stranger—and he knew a lot more about her than any stranger should.

She’d already passed a couple of buildings, but the intersection up ahead and her shop half a block beyond that seemed miles away. What would be her closest escape route? Going on to her shop? Back to the bar? Straight out into the middle of traffic where he couldn’t follow? With no promising option in sight, Robin spun around, trying a more confrontational tactic to get rid of the man strolling behind her. “Did you read about me in the paper? How did you find me?”

“I knew you long before you made the headlines, Ms. Carter.” He called her bluff, smiling as he walked past her. But he stopped and turned in front of the stroller. “That’s a beautiful baby. What did you name her?”

When he knelt in front of Emma, Robin jerked the stroller back. “Get away from her.”

He smiled and rose to his feet. “I think she looks like a Hailey.”

“What did you say?” The blood drained from Robin’s body, leaving her ice cold. That was Emma’s birth name—before the adoption. He
did
know her daughter. This wasn’t supposed to happen. “She isn’t Hailey anymore. She’s
my
daughter. If you want to talk to me, call my attorney and make an appointment.”

With fear flagging every step, Robin pushed the stroller around him.

He grabbed her arm as she hurried past, tightening his grip when she tried to shake him off. “This can’t wait. I have a favor to ask.”

“Let go. If you’re who I think you are, you’re not supposed to have any contact with me. I’ll call the police. I know a detective back in the Shamrock Bar. He’s there right now.”

“Do you really think you ought to be taking your daughter into a bar?” She could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath as he whispered against her ear. “What kind of mother does that? Do you really have this child’s best interests—?”

“The lady said to let her go.” Jake Lonergan’s deep, menacing voice filled the air, washing over Robin like a protective hug and silencing the accusation in Bill Houseman’s voice.

Houseman’s grip tightened before he released her and stepped back. “I have business with Ms. Carter.”

“Not today, you don’t.”

Robin wasted no time asking why Jake was here. She quickly pulled Emma back and stood beside him.

Houseman straightened his cuffs beneath his suit jacket. Betraying either nerves or a sudden fastidiousness about his appearance, he adjusted his tie and collar, too. “One way or another, we will have this conversation. Preferably without your Neanderthal friend here. It’s important. A matter of life or death, I’m afraid.”

“Whose? My baby’s?”

Jake shifted at the possible threat, standing tall and immovable, his strong arms crossed over his chest. He’d shed the green apron he’d had on in the bar and looked like some sort of human tank blocking the sidewalk. He’d come to Robin’s rescue. Again.

“No. But it’s important. In a way, I’m trying to save you, too.”

“From what?”

Houseman seemed to consider continuing the conversation for about three seconds. His gaze skipped over Jake and he looked at Robin. “Please give me a call.”

With a subtle shift in his stance, Jake was suddenly positioned between her and Houseman. He’d even barred Emma from the man’s direct line of sight. Although there seemed to be more that Houseman wanted to say, the man clearly didn’t want to push his luck with Jake there. After a nod to Robin and a ‘Bye, little one’ to Emma, he returned to his car, started the engine and drove away.

“Thank you.” Robin flattened her palm against Jake’s back and felt him shiver at the unexpected touch. He moved away far too quickly to think she’d done anything more than startle him. Swallowing her pride, she let him put the distance between them that he apparently needed. “I didn’t handle that very well. I couldn’t think. I panicked. I guess I’m still rattled from last night.”

“Is the kid okay?”

“Yes. He touched her, but he didn’t hurt her.” Robin stooped down to check on Emma. Straps, secure. Blanket, fine. Blue eyes smiling and content. “I guess he didn’t do anything except...give me his business card.” She wound her fingers around the edge of the stroller as the strength ebbed from her. “I know this name. I didn’t know him, but the last name...I’ve seen it in legal documents.” She let Emma capture her finger in a tiny fist. “He said he was family.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Houseman. Emma’s birth mother—I never met her but...her last name is Houseman.” She held up the crumpled card for Jake to read. “Like him. Is he Emma’s father? Does he want her back? I can’t lose her.”

Jake didn’t take the card or speculate an answer to her question. Instead, he cupped his hand beneath Robin’s elbow and pulled her to her feet. If she thought he was being polite or showing concern, she was mistaken. He positioned her behind the stroller and gave it a nudge, forcing her to grab on to the handle and get moving before he pushed Emma down the sidewalk without her. “Like I said before—tell the cops about that phone call. This guy, too. And quit wandering off on your own. I won’t always be here to save you.”

Gratitude and irritation warred inside her. “Then why did you? If I’m such a burden, if we’re such an intrusion on your life, why did you come all the way down the block and get rid of Mr. Houseman for me?”

“It’s my job to keep trouble away from the bar.”

“Like men who accost women on the street?”

“Like you, lady.” He scanned the sidewalk and street as they walked, and Robin realized that she, too, was learning to check inside every car and doorway for anyone who might be watching or waiting for them as they walked past. “I’ll take you to the corner, and watch you down to your shop. But then you are no longer my responsibility, understand? We’re done.”

Again.

Chapter Seven

“What are you doing in here, boss lady?”

Startled by the interruption, Robin crumpled the sick note she’d been rereading and stuffed it into the pocket of her apron. She looked up from the stool where she sat in the shop’s refrigerated stockroom to see Mark Riggins standing in the open doorway.

I’m
taking
your
baby
.

Mark was unrolling the sleeves of his shirt and buttoning the cuffs at the wrist. “It’s quittin’ time.”

Gathering her wits and taking note of the late hour, Robin set the last handful of gerbera daisies she’d been counting back into their vase on the bottom shelf and entered the number on her clipboard before getting up.

She pulled her sweater more tightly around her neck and hugged her arms at her waist. “Are the boutonnieres for the Vanderham second wedding finished?”

“Packaged and ready for delivery in the morning. Along with two dozen small sprays and the biggest altar piece I’ve ever put together. Tacky and too much, but if it makes the client happy, who am I to complain?” Frowning, he took a step into the cold room. “Are you okay? You look a little pale. Are you thinking about the assault again?”

Was there a moment in the week since her attack that she hadn’t? She slipped her hand into her apron pocket, feeling today’s latest threat burning against her fingers. But her personal problems weren’t Mark’s concern—or anyone else’s, apparently, according to the police’s inability to act on a few prank calls and messages. So she pasted on a reassuring smile. “No. I didn’t realize it was nine o’clock. Is everything locked up?”

“You bet.” Mark inclined his head toward the workrooms in the back. “We’re all getting ready to head out so we can get an early start on tomorrow’s setup. I think Linda and Christine are going out for coffee, but the rest of us are heading home. You should do the same.”

“I know.” Since the assault nearly a week earlier, she’d taken every safety precaution she knew to heart—especially since that first drunken phone call had turned into some sort of anonymous hate mail campaign. Every day there’d been something new in her bills and correspondence at the shop. And each letter, sent from a Kansas City post office with no return address, had grown more disturbing by the day.

The Rose Red Rapist didn’t make mistakes and would come back to finish what he’d started.

A single woman had no business adopting a child.

Emma would be taken from her and Robin would be punished for abandoning her the night of the attack.

Abandon? As if she’d been given a choice.

At one point she’d considered digging out Bill Houseman’s card and calling him to find out if he was behind the terror campaign. He’d claimed to be related to Emma, and this could be his sick effort to get her to reverse the adoption so he could take custody of the baby. But how could the attempted rape be related to a legal claim? Besides, a call to Robin’s attorney had assured her that the adoption was legitimate and airtight, and there was nothing requiring her to have any contact with the birth parents who’d surrendered their rights to Emma.

The motive might not be clear, but the message was unmistakable. Some nut job had fixated on Robin and Emma, and it was up to her to maintain a vigilance that would keep her, and everyone around her, safe.

She pulled herself from her thoughts and smiled her thanks to Mark. “Will you make sure that no one leaves by themselves?”

“Sure. I’ll ask Leon to move the van and secure the loading dock, too.”

“Thanks.” Even though she’d be making the rounds herself to make sure everything was locked up tight before she left, it was reassuring to have a second pair of eyes checking the security of the place. “I need a few minutes to get things back in order here and pack up Emma. Then we’ll be leaving, too.”

Mark let the door close behind him and joined her in the middle of the tall, metal shelves that lined the room. “What are you doing?”

She exhaled a weary sigh that clouded around her face. “Old-fashioned inventory, counting out the flowers we have in stock one at a time.”

“Sounds tedious. Want some help?”

Robin smiled and shook her head. “It’s nearly done. Besides, you’ve been talking about those late dinner plans of yours all day long. You need to skedaddle.”

“My date can wait,” he volunteered.

She waved off the offer and picked up one of the long, narrow boxes she’d set on the floor. “At first I thought maybe a couple of orders hadn’t been logged in. But then you showed me your records and I realized we were just encoding entries differently.” She laid the box on a matching stack and opened the lid. “Now I’m thinking the number error is coming from the distributor’s end. We were shorted two stems in each of these boxes. If that’s been going on the entire time I was gone, that adds up to over two thousand dollars.”

“I’ll call them and ask what’s going on. Get them to adjust the billing.” Mark thumbed over his shoulder. “In the meantime, if you won’t be too much longer, I promised Shirley I’d walk her to her car.”

“You go ahead. I just need to push this pallet out of the main path and shut off the lights in here.” She turned the handle of the pallet mover and released the brake. “I’ll be out shortly.”

“Good.” He pulled the handle on the insulated steel door and pushed it open. “Shirley, my love, are you ready for your escort?”

Robin smiled at his over-the-top charm. She was glad she and Mark had sat down together to work out the bookkeeping issues. It was a relief to finally feel like she’d gotten back into the routine of work and running her shop. Heaven knew that, except for Emma’s bright shining star, her personal life was still a complicated mess.

Inhaling a resolute breath and refusing to let the fear those letters and phone calls engendered take hold of her again, Robin leaned her shoulder into the pallet mover to start it rolling. By the time she’d parked it out of the way and retrieved her clipboard, she was back in cool, calm and collected mode. She went to the door and pushed.

But nothing happened.

She quickly squelched that bubble of fear that had never truly left her and pushed the handle again.

Nothing.

She jiggled the handle one more time and pressed the emergency release latch. Only, something had jammed and it wouldn’t engage the lock. This door wasn’t opening. At least, not from her side.

“Mark?” She knocked on the door to see if anyone was on the other side. “Shirley? Leon?” Robin knocked again. “Hello? I’m in here.”

Someone had gotten a little overzealous with the locking-up directive. At least she hoped it was an accident—that whoever had slipped the locking pin into the other side of the door handle simply hadn’t realized she was in here, and that, considering recent events, this wasn’t some poorly timed joke.

“Hello?”

The same insulated walls that kept her from hearing anything outside the fridge room were probably muffling her shouts, as well. Maybe the guys were walking the female employees to their cars and no one was out there. It was impossible to hear through the thick door unless they were standing in the adjoining hallway.

A fearful suspicion simmered inside her. But she tamped down the panic and tried to think this through. Had she stayed in here longer than she thought? She reached for her cell phone, but that was in the diaper bag in her office. She found the tiny canister of pepper spray in the pocket of her jeans. She’d started carrying it again after that awful night. But she was locked in, not under attack. At least it was a walk-in refrigerator, not a freezer. Things could get mighty uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t die in here. And this door wasn’t the only way out.

“Ugh. Robin.” She chided the foreboding that had momentarily silenced logic and ran over to check the delivery entrance where they loaded and unloaded large orders through the double doors. She rattled the handle on one, tried them both. But nothing budged. Normally, this was padlocked from the outside unless they were using it. “Leon?” Maybe he was back there with the van. She flattened her palm against the cold steel and pounded. “Leon!”

Everything was locked up tight. Just the way she wanted it. Two sets of locked doors to keep anyone from sneaking into the shop from the back alley.

Two sets of locked doors that trapped her in between.

The panic bubbled over and Robin ran back to the hallway door and pounded again. “Hey! Mark? Anyone? I’m locked in!”

Robin was trapped. But that wasn’t what scared her.

She couldn’t get to Emma, who was sleeping peacefully in Robin’s office. Unguarded. Alone.

This was no accident. And it was certainly no joke.

I’m
taking
your
daughter
.

Forget cool, calm and collected. Robin pounded on the door and shouted. “Help! Let me out!”

* * *

J
AKE
LEANED
AGAINST
the top railing of the fence surrounding the Fairy Tale Bridal parking lot and watched the lights in Robin’s shop go out one by one. Careful not to let the glare from the street lamp reflect off the face of his watch and alert anyone to his presence, he checked the time. 9:00 p.m. sharp. Good. He appreciated punctuality when it came to security.

Robin Carter had been consistent for four nights in a row now. He’d seen her lock the front door, check the windows, turn out the lights and walk to the parking lot with the rest of her staff before loading that bulky baby carrier into the backseat and driving off to whatever all-American suburban home they lived in.

Despite his best intentions to forget the leggy brunette and her blue-eyed baby, despite every lick of sense that said he shouldn’t care about her troubles or get involved any further in their lives, Jake had planned his dinner break from the bar just before nine. And for the past four nights, he’d made the brisk walk around the corner to this hiding place away from the bridal shop’s security cameras, and watched to make sure the Carter girls got safely out of this neighborhood where too many innocent women had gotten hurt.

He justified his sneaky voyeurism as a matter of mental survival. He refused to care about Robin and Emma on any personal level, but a man had to live with his conscience. Jake had enough violence and unanswered questions haunting his dreams. He didn’t need his waking moments to be plagued with doubts and guilt, too. He could watch from a distance without interacting with them, and appease his conscience by making sure they were safe without risking developing any personal connection to them.

Knowing his black shirt and dark jeans helped him blend in with the ivy vines trailing over the fence, he rolled his neck and allowed himself to stretch out some of the kinks of fatigue that came from standing in one position for so long. At least this was an easier gig than that night he’d spent out in the rain waiting for Robin to reappear. Not that he minded the elements. He’d needed to see her that night to make sure she was okay—that his own self-preservation instincts hadn’t left her exposed to any more danger.

Apparently, he still needed to see her to put his conscience to rest each night. But there wouldn’t be any more hand-holding or running his fingers through her hair or thinking about kissing her. There wouldn’t be any more stabs of protective jealousy and charging to the rescue when some other man put his hands on her. Despite his ugly facade, he was a man who wanted and lusted and could learn to care, just like any other man. But Jake knew that the monster he might also be made him too dangerous to ever give in to those normal wants and needs. If he knew he was responsible for hurting Robin or her daughter, it would open up a wound no one would ever see, and from which he might never recover.

Jake stilled again to watch the progression across the street. Like clockwork, the back door opened beneath the green-and-white awning and the employees of the Robin’s Nest Floral Shop came out.

The dark-haired guy with the bow tie came out with the middle-aged blonde. Good. Bow-tie guy was walking her to her car. They laughed about something before she got in and drove away. Bow-tie guy waited as two more women came out together, got into their cars and drove away.

“Hey!” Hearing the slam of a door, Jake moved his attention back the shop entrance. A young man in a green uniform shirt jogged out and stopped Bow-tie guy outside his car. With his senses going on alert, Jake leaned forward, turning his ear to eavesdrop as their conversation flared into a heated argument.

He was too far away to catch everything, but Jake quickly realized this was not as happy a family of coworkers as he’d expected. Uniform kid said something about “...your fault.”

Bow-tie guy kept his cool while the younger man blew up.

“Ms. Carter...twice now.”

“...not going to lose your job.”

“I’ll take care of it if you won’t.”

Interesting.

Almost as quickly as it had started, the argument stopped. The two men separated to their respective vehicles. Both immediately pulled out their cell phones, either taking or making calls as they got into their cars. The younger man started his car and sped out of the parking lot while the older man sat inside his car, chatting on the phone.

Had Robin made a discovery about the accounting discrepancy she’d been stewing over that night she’d been attacked? Not a smart move to confront Uniform guy on her own. A man wouldn’t have to be built like Jake to out-muscle her if he really wanted to.

Jake’s blood heated in his veins at the thought of Robin getting hurt again. Three more minutes passed before Bow-tie guy ended his call. He watched the back door for two minutes more before checking the time and then driving away. Jake’s feet itched to follow one or both of those men to find out what they’d been arguing about, if it had to do with Robin and what calls were so important that they had to be made before they’d even left the parking lot.

And where the hell was Robin, anyway?

Changing the kid’s diaper? Dinking with those books again? The whole idea of safety in numbers was that she had to
be
with those numbers.