Catch & Neutralize (10 page)

Stockton gave Angie a proper three-pump handshake. His bulky hand engulfed hers, strong but soft. She figured he spent most of his days sitting behind a desk pushing papers.

“Glad to meet you, Angie.” Stockton’s eyes stabbed into her. His voice sounded hollow and with a hint of European accent.

In a blast of air current, candle glow flickered wildly. Stockton stepped further inside pushing the door closed with his backside.

I guess he’s attractive, but seriously creepy.

The corners of Angie’s mouth slid up sweetly. Keeping thoughts to herself she allowed, “Same here.”

After he released her hand, Angie felt an overpowering need to wash it. She waited for Stockton to turn away then rubbed her palm against her skirt.

She wondered if Stockton could be her next target and found she wouldn’t mind that at all. He seemed like he could use a little roughing up, especially by a woman. Turning, Angie stared at Tiffany, waiting for her attention.

The lights hummed back on.

Stockton removed his hat, sprinkles dribbling the tile. Fresh crew cut, so pale in color it almost glowed.

“What’s going on? You had a break-in? Was anything taken?” he asked.

Tiffany looked at Angie who raised her eyebrows and head pointed at Stockton. A prompt for the challenge, the surprise kiss.

Tiffany blinked, shook her head.

Angie crossed her arms and nodded once, rubbing fingers against thumb, a reminder of cash on the line.

“Ladies, I’m glad you called. I’m here to help with all your policing needs.” Stockton’s tongue snaked across his lips before disappearing back inside his mouth. He slid out of his police jacket, muscles bulging.

Angie figured he was flexing, displaying his goods for Tiffany. She blinked hard, repressing an eye roll.

Tiffany sprang to Stockton, an awkward ninja. Lip locked, eyes closed, they seemed to melt into one another. Angie watched for tongue touching, a detail of the challenge.

Stockton’s hands ran down Tiffany’s back and rested against her buttocks. He hovered over her, a lion devouring his prey. Tiffany started to pull away but Stockton held on, fingers digging into her backside. Her eyes widened, and she groaned annoyance at Stockton’s persistent grip.

“Okay. That’s enough,
Officer
Wood.” Angie’s tone poked scorn over his name.

She pinched Stockton’s bicep hard, leaving a red mark. Feeling aggravated and suspicious, a little guilty for making Tiffany kiss him, Angie really hoped this creep was her next target. She felt an overwhelming needed to check her compact for instructions, but the timing wasn’t right. No way could she leave Tiffany alone with this lech.

With a shove much stronger than expected, Tiffany removed herself from Stockton’s hold. He immediately gave Angie the stink eye, anger covering his face like an expression straight out of
Creature from the Black Lagoon
.

His features lightened speaking to Tiffany. “I’ve missed your kisses, Tiff.”

She turned away, wiping her lips.

“So?” Stockton asked again, “was anything taken?”

“I don’t think so.” Tiffany pointed in the kitchen’s direction, “Vandalism for sure, broken window, threatening message. No idea how they got onto the property. I’ve got a gate. Guess they climbed over.”

“Let’s check it out.” He started down the hallway, “Where am I going?”

“Kitchen bathroom,” Angie answered in a voice deeper than usual. She took Tiffany’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Candle glow sputtered and hopped in the electricity ridden room.

~

No mess in the kitchen bathroom, not a single thing out of place, as clean as Tiffany had left it before work this morning. She and Tiffany stared, dumbfounded.

“Where’s the vandalism?” Stockton stood with one hip cocked, arms held away from his sides as if his muscles were too massive for closure. “Are you sure this is the right room?”

“Positive.” Tiffany pushed up her glasses. “It was in total disarray. Toilet paper everywhere like an exploded bomb. Magazines slung about,” she pointed at the orderly pile of reading material. “Window busted through with a rock. Some kind of red liquid all over the walls. And, a message on the mirror. ‘You are next,’ it said in all caps.”

The room smelled of air freshener, something fruity and tropical.

“It’s some kind of pathetic joke, I guess. But not funny at all.” Tiffany growled. “Who would do this?” She glared at Stockton.

Stockton’s arms slithered around Tiffany. His voice gentle, soothing, “I don’t know. Don’t worry. I’m here to take care of you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, Tiff. You’ll always be safe with me.”

Tiffany shrunk away, using Angie as a safety wall.

“Thank you for coming to check the damage. Obviously, it was a mistake. We’ve had a little too much to drink tonight.” Angie faked a giggle, shielding Tiffany protectively. Stockton had given her a terrible case of the heebie-jeebies. She could hardly wait to be rid of him. “We’re so sorry for wasting your time, Officer Wood.”

“I should probably check the rest of the house. Make sure there aren’t any intruders hiding.”

Tiffany shook her head.

“No,” Angie answered. “Thank you. We’ve already been all over the house. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” She held her arm out, an invitation to the door.

Officer Stockton Wood didn’t look amused. He left the bathroom, face tight, hint obviously taken. “All right, ladies, I’m glad it was a false alarm.” He turned to face them, “I’ll be on my way. Call if you need me for anything. Tiff, feel free to use my private number. Anytime, no matter the reason.” He shot an irritated glance at Angie before continuing. “And please be careful.”

Leaving Tiffany in the safety of the bathroom, Angie escorted Stockton to the foyer. After collecting cap and jacket, the door slammed behind him. Angie bolted the locks, listening until she heard Stockton’s vehicle rumble away.

Chapter 18

Angie sat on Tiffany’s bed. “Really insane about the bathroom. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes. It was completely trashed.”

“I know, and I should’ve known better than to call Stockton. He was always playing mind games and being too rough, smothering, possessive.” Tiffany, now wearing nighttime satin shorts and tank top, slumped down into the stacks of pillows. “He did it, that mess. Probably cleaned it while we were upstairs. A true nutcase. In my professional opinion, he has what we call Antisocial Personality Disorder. Meaning he cares only about himself, does whatever he likes without regard for anyone else. He’ll do anything to get what he wants. And, I do mean
anything
.”

“Well, he’s definitely a creeper.” Angie’s eyes shifted to Tiffany’s tank top. A cartoon bubble above a plastic yellow duck floating in a bathtub stated:
Yes,
I’m the one!
“I’m sorry for asking you to call him. I really thought it’d be helpful to have a police report.”

“It would’ve been if the vandalism were real. I’m telling you, Angie, Stockton set it up. He staged it all. Must’ve known I’d call him.”

Angie patted Tiffany’s hand. “Well, at least he’s gone now.”

“I’m still a little freaked out.”

Exploring the house while Tiffany dozed would be helpful. Angie grabbed a bottle of lotion from the bedside table, cranberry almond scented. “Why don’t I give you a backrub? It’ll help you relax.”

“No. Thanks, though.” Tiffany rubbed the space on the bed beside her. Swishy high-pitched sounds scratched the air. “Would you mind sleeping in here tonight? Might be good for both of us.”

So much for that
, Angie
thought.

“Sure.” Angie scooted closer. “Good play. I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

“What? Kissing Stockton? He’s an excellent kisser. I know I shouldn’t have. It’s just like me to beg for more problems. You see how crazy he is. It’s bad to tempt weirdoes, especially his kind of weirdo.”

Angie examined her fingernails. She’d need a manicure soon. “So, now I owe you a hundred bucks. Plus, it’s my turn. What’s my return challenge and what’s it worth?”

“Not sure yet. I need to think about it. A hundred isn’t much.”

Thunder crackled the sky, sending convulsive spurts of light.

“Happy to up the ante, if you want. We probably should anyway. I was thinking we keep the winnings in a jar until one of us can’t or won’t complete a challenge. So, what I’m saying is if
you
complete the challenge, then
I
put that money in the jar and vice versa. One of us will have to put money inside the jar after each challenge, no matter what. Make it grow like Free Parking in Monopoly. We just keep offering each other challenges until one of us quits. The quitter is the loser and winner takes all. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like fun.” Tiffany turned to face Angie. “So in that case, your challenge is worth
Five
hundred dollars.” She leaned closer, “I know the perfect place to get a jar. It’s called Krafty Kate’s in that shopping center near Five Guys Burgers off Unser.”

Tiffany’s breath exuded moist warmth smelling of stale rum. Angie slid back from her.

“I know where it is. We should go tomorrow and pick it out together. Since I started this game, I’ll buy.”

“Nope.” The corners of Tiffany’s lips twisted upwards. “That’s your challenge.”

“Okay? I’m missing something here. What’s your five hundred dollar challenge?”

“We’ll go together, but you have to
steal
the jar.”

Rain clicked against the windows. Angie contemplated the risk. She didn’t want to steal anything, didn’t want to end up in jail for petty theft. There were too many downfalls with getting caught. But, she also needed to stay with Tiffany per CAN Institute instructions. Hopefully, she’d get a message soon about what to do next. If she had to steal, Angie would find a way to pay for the jar without Tiffany finding out. She was no thief.

“Challenge accepted.” Angie nodded. “It’ll be easy.”

Tiffany, clearly proud of herself, smiled and leaned closer kissing a freckle on Angie’s neck.

Angie moved back further, wiping Tiffany’s kiss away. “No offense. I’m not a lesbian.”

“Me neither, but this is different. We’ve only just met, but it seems like we’ve always been friends.”

“I understand,” Angie soothed, “but I don’t need love triangle complications in my life. Neither one of us does. All right? I want us to be friends, just friends.”

“Forever and always?”

“Yes.” Angie laughed softly. “Forever and always.”

She excused herself to the bathroom. Angie needed instructions sooner rather than later. She didn’t know what was up with Tiffany’s touches and kisses, but something was off. Something definitely didn’t feel right, and Angie was having trouble figuring it out. She’d need to keep her guard up.

After locking the door, Angie brought out the compact and used her thumbprint for access. The magnified mirror slid down. A message flashed urgently.

Two Targets. Possibly a Third. Watch Dr. Bell.

Angie closed the compact.

Okay? What am I to do with the targets? Who are the targets? What about Dr. Bell? Watch her do what?

Until Angie knew more, there was nothing she could do. Hopefully, more information was on the way or backup or both.

And soon.

~

Angie’s phone alarm sounded at 9 a.m., happy birds chirping over background beeping. She swiped the alarm off and stretched out a moan.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tiffany said opening the curtains. She was already dressed for the day in a striped top with fuzzy cardigan and form-fitting khakis, a walking Lacoste ad. “You hungry? I make a mean omelet.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Angie stretched again with a satisfied groan. “Onions, carrots, and cheese? A pot of coffee?”

“Yep. Got all that. Do you want to shower while I cook?”

“That’d be great.” Angie smiled, leaning back and stretching her arms up. “I have a meeting at two today. I’d like you to come with me. It won’t take long. We can stop for lunch after.” She pushed the covers away and sat on the bed’s edge. “And, do you want to go get the jar before or after? I’m not sure what time Krafty Kate’s closes.”

“Google says it closes at seven on Saturdays. We can go anytime. Tomorrow, if you want. Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not trying to get out of your challenge.”

“I know.” Tiffany winked, middle finger pressing her glasses up. “Towels are in the closet next to the shower. My clothes are in there,” she pointed at a set of double doors. “Help yourself to whatever you like. It’s supposed to warm-up today. Not much, but some. Interesting since it got so cold last night, and it’s supposed to really dip down tonight. Take advantage while you can. It won’t last long. I’ll be downstairs fixing breakfast.”

Angie checked her compact for messages, disappointed to find none.

After showering, she stood inside Tiffany’s closet flipping through clothes. Nothing but L.L. Bean, Lacoste, Ralph Lauren, and Vineyard Vines. A preppy girl’s dream come true. Angie shook her head, grinning. She pulled a red, long-sleeved t-shirt dress from a hanger and slid it on. Larger than Tiffany, the dress hugged Angie’s curvy figure. It hung mid-thigh, the chest area snug.

Not bad
, she thought using an array mirrors to look at herself from every angle. The little embroidered alligator smiling above her breast seemed to agree.

Although ballerina flats would’ve looked better, Tiffany’s shoes were way too small. The smell of cooking and coffee wafted up from the kitchen. Angie’s belly grumbled a complaint. She slipped into her spiked heels and headed downstairs.

“You look amazing.” Tiffany smiled as she scooped folded eggs onto plates.

“Thanks. I’ll return it after washing.” Angie patted her rumbling stomach. “Smells delicious. Is it ready?”

Tiffany lifted the plates and headed to the breakfast nook. Sunlight streamed through bay windows reflecting off a stainless steel potato peeler near the sink.

“Yep. I also added potatoes to the eggs. Hope you like it. Red chili’s on the table. No green today, sorry.”

“No worries. Red’s my favorite.” Angie sat down looking out at the fountain and its high, rainbow casting spray. “This is really nice. Thank you, Tiffany, for allowing me to stay last night and for cooking breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” Tiffany sat waving at steam drifting from her coffee cup. “So, you have a meeting at two today, right? A Saturday business meeting?”

Angie finished chewing and swallowed before answering. “It’s a business meeting of sorts.”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow and slid her glasses up.

Angie thought about her situation as she chewed. She swallowed and admitted: “Truth is I’m being blackmailed.”

“I knew something was up. What’s going on?”

Angie inhaled deeply, exhaled noisily. “That seating guy at Macaroons, he’s got me for a date and fifty-K.”

“A date and fifty thousand dollars?” Tiffany laughed, covering her mouth. “Sorry. It’s not funny. I shouldn’t have laughed but, that’s so ridiculous.”

“I know, right?”

“You’re just going to give it to him? Really? What did you do?”

Angie grimaced, shook her head. “I don’t know, I guess. I’m married to a man that doesn’t know the situation. According to my prenup, I get nothing if I cheat.” She sighed. “I’ve never cheated, never, not once. But on occasion, I’ve done things that could be construed as such.”

“Right. Well, I still don’t get it, but that’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else.”

Angie figured Tiffany thought she was cheating in other ways. Perhaps an online boyfriend she never intended to meet but spent hours chatting up or texting or
sexting
. Maybe a colleague she was crushing on or possibly even her boss. Angie snickered at the thought of having a love interest in Garry Steinberg. She took a sip of coffee to ward off disgust caused by the thought.

Now that the idea had been implicated, Angie felt like she was the one being cheated: out of honest friendships, a regular career, a normal marriage.

Tiffany reached across the table, held her hands. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just be my friend.” Angie squeezed and let go, folding her hands together.

“We’ll always be friends.” Tiffany’s eyes hardened. “That’s why I’m going to help you stop this little prick from taking your money. What’s he got on you?”

“Last night I flirted with the lawyer I was telling you about, Kyle Caldwell, and that ‘little prick’ took pics of me flashing some skin.” She blinked slowly, heavily. “I know, bad move. Was just trying to have some fun.”

The lies were piling up. The blackmail was true, but Angie didn’t have a prenuptial agreement. Mark wasn’t like that. He didn’t know that she knew he’d never signed it. He also didn’t know about her
real
job. He didn’t know the things she did for
real
pay and definitely didn’t want him finding out. That would be against The Institute’s rules.

The photo Scott took might have the power to end her marriage. Although it wasn’t true, it did make Angie look guilty of some form of adultery.

Tiffany leaned towards Angie expectantly. “Okay, so did he use a camera, a phone? What?”

“Phone.”

“Easy. We’re going to get it and destroy it.” Tiffany sounded so sure of herself, maybe a little too sure. “Seriously, you’re going to meet with him as promised. I’ll follow. Maybe we can bring him back here. It’s not as if we’ll be disturbed.”

“What if he’s emailed the pics to himself for safe keeping or posted them on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, who knows where else?”

“What if he hasn’t?”

“Good point.” Angie sipped her coffee, mind cranking. “All right. I’ll drop you at your car, meet with this guy – I think his name is Scott – and I’ll drive him back here. You’ll follow. What next?”

“Not sure. We’ll have to play it by ear.” Tiffany’s mouth opened wide, sending out an impish cackle.

“Oh, Lord. What is it?”

“I don’t want to see my new buddy getting screwed over by some punk. Plus, it’s going to be fun teaching this jackass a lesson.” Tiffany glanced at the wall clock. “It’s almost eleven. Do you want to pick up our money jar on the way?”

“Sure. Why not?” Angie tapped a heel against the tile. “Maybe I can land a pair of flats to go with this dress.”