Delta Stevens 1: Taken by Storm (9 page)

“Anyway,” Megan started, sweeping her hand through the air as if she was brushing the sadness away, “I recorded recurring patterns or anything out of the ordinary.”

“And you don’t know what he was looking for?”

“I haven’t a clue. Usually, when Miles and I would meet, we talked about our personal lives.”

Delta leaned back and shook her head. She thought she knew everything there was about Miles.

“I would have come to you sooner or later with this.”

“Why?’

Megan looked away for a moment before answering. “He told me

a lot about you. And if it was so important to him, I figured you would want it.”

Delta picked the matchbook off the table and dropped it in her pocket. “That was an excellent read.”

Brushing her silky hair casually over her shoulders, Megan leaned over the table, Delta could smell the slight spiciness of her OPIUM perfume as it mixed gingerly with the hot aroma of Megan’s cappuccino.

“I told you — it’s my business to know people.“ Megan motioned to the waitress for another cappuccino.

Again, Delta hesitated, as she tried to find the best words to form her next sentence. “Would it be terribly offensive if I told you that you’re not like any other hoo—prostitute I’ve ever met?”

The whites of Megan’s teeth shined in the night. “I should hope not. Why would that be offensive?”

Feeling the heat rise in her face, Delta fidgeted with her spoon. “Well . . . it’s just that you sound extremely intelligent and appear resourceful. I don’t understand why you do what you do.”

“Ah.” Megan leaned back and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m not your every day variety prostitute, am I?”

Delta swallowed loudly. “Am I out of line here?”

Megan tossed her head back and laughed. “Of course not. I must admit that I’m not at all like most of the girls who do it because they’re hooked on drugs, have a child to support, or have a man. Believe it or not, I’m in my second year at the university.”

Delta leaned forward, coming out of the chair. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s your major?”

Grinning, Megan finished her first cappuccino as the waitress brought the second. “What else? Business. I woke up one morning wondering what I was going to do when I was forty or fifty, and I got scared to death. The retirement package in this line of business isn’t spectacular.”

Still hanging over half of the table, Delta asked, “So how did you get started?”

“Like so many other young, dreamy-eyed girls out of high school, I came to the big city to make my fame and fortune. I actually came out here to be a hand model.”

Delta had been noticing her hands ever since they arrived at the coffee shop. Her fingers were long and perfectly proportioned, and her painted nails were brightly colored talons.

“Needless to say, that never happened and my money had run out. A friend of mine showed me the ropes until I could make enough money to get a portfolio done, pay for bus fare to agents, and keep some food in my stomach. Next thing I knew, I was ten years older and still doing it. Can’t beat the money, that’s for sure.”

Delta leaned further onto the table, enchanted by the clear eyes and expressive mouth. She was beautiful and alarmingly charming, with a voice of honey. “But doesn’t it ever bother you?”

“Morally?”

“Something like that.”

Megan smiled, and the start of crows feet showed up on the corner of her eyes. “I sell a service, Delta. It just happens that my body is the product men buy. When I was younger, I didn’t get hung up on the morality of it all. It kept me fed and clothed. It was good money. It still is.”

“And when you get your degree?”

“Then I’m out of here. I’ve been on my back long enough. In three more years, I’ll be done, and I can look forward to starting a different kind of life. That’s what really excites me, the newness of a day job. To do something with my degree will be the accomplishment of my life.”

Delta couldn’t help smiling. Megan mesmerized her.

“From what I’ve seen, you’ll succeed.”

Megan smiled appreciatingly at the compliment. “So, maybe this cop’s preconceived notions can be reconceived?”

Delta nodded. “Most definitely.”

“I’m glad. But then, I’m not surprised. The way he described you,

I knew you wouldn’t be one of those hard nosed cops who see everything in black and white.” Running her index finger around the rim of her mug, Megan’s voice softened. “He was crazy about you, you know. Talked about you all the time.”

“Really?” a warm blush blossomed around Delta’s cheeks.

“Oh yes. He thought so highly of you and spoke with such love and admiration, I asked him if he was in love with you.”

Delta gulped audibly. Megan’s candor was unsettling.

“He said, in a way, he was. He loved your strength, your compassion, and he loved how you followed your convictions. He said you were the best cop he’d ever worked with and that you were his best friend.”

Delta did not know what to say. Here, she thought she knew him so well, and now she finds out that he spoke about her to someone she did-n’t even know existed until a few days ago. Did they have more secrets between them than she knew? Perhaps she did not know him as well as she thought.

“But you weren’t in love with him either, were you?”

Leaning away from the intensity of her question, Delta wondered how the tables had been turned. After all, wasn’t she supposed to be asking the questions?

Megan waved off Delta’s non-answer. “That’s okay. The way I figured it, you never fell in love with him because you couldn’t.”

Delta’s eyebrows shot up again.

Grinning softly, Megan leaned forward again. This time, she spoke barely above a whisper. “Miles was an incredibly wonderful man. He was handsome, sensitive, warm, bright, and excellent company; a rare combination in most men. My colleagues would have slept with him for nothing. You, on the other hand, are a single woman devoted to your job and your partner. Nine out of ten women in your shoes would surely have fallen in love with him; unless, of course, she was that one-in-ten who was a lesbian.”

The sweat on Delta’s palms immediately broke the surface. Suddenly, she felt naked in front of this woman, whose eyes seemed to pierce her very soul. It was disconcerting having someone be able to read her so well when they had never met before.

“He told you.”

Reaching to one of Delta's hands, Megan lightly touched it. “He didn’t mean to. Actually, he only alluded to it. One night, he made the comment that he wished you and I could meet because, let’s see, how did he put it? Del would find you really attractive. He worried that you didn’t go out enough.”

Delta shook her head. “I got dumped a few months ago, and I haven’t made much of an effort to make myself available.”

Megan’s eyes softened. “So you threw yourself into your work.”

“Miles tell you that?”

“It’s a guess.”

This brought a slight grin to Delta’s face. She was enjoying their conversation more than she intended. For some reason, she was very comfortable with Megan; as if they had known each other in another place, another time.

“Well, it’s a good guess. But enough about me. What about you? Your job must make it difficult to have a relationship.”

Finishing the last of her pie, Megan wiped her hands on her napkin before answering. “Difficult? Try impossible. I’ve been with men and women who, for some reason, turn into instant sponges when they get together with me. Then there’s been the occasional sugar daddy type who wants to take me away from it all.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“I don’t want charity, Delta. I’ve made my own way so far, and that’s exactly what I’m going to continue to do. It’s the only way I know. Miles was the only man who understood that.”

“Were you in love with him?”

Megan shook her head. “I was in love with the friendship. It was so refreshing to talk to a man whose last priority at that moment was sex. Being with him always reminded me that there were good men out there with warm hearts and sensitive thoughts. I’ll miss that friendship.”

This time, Delta reached across to squeeze Megan’s hand. “I know how you feel. There’s a gaping hole where he used to be.”

Megan nodded and turned her hand over so that she was now holding Delta’s hand. “You’re every bit as special as Miles said you were. I hope you’ve enjoyed our talk as much as I have.”

Delta nodded, thought about pulling her hand away, then decided against it. There was something comforting and warm about holding Megan’s beautiful hand. It was as if it supplied her spirit with tenderness she was so desperately needing.

“I have. Look, I know this may sound strange and all, I mean, we’ve just met and I’m not trying to replace Miles or anything, but-”

Megan smiled her largest smile of the night. “Yes, you can have my number, but only if you do the same. If you pull that cop confidentiality shit on me, forget it. It worked with Miles because the trust went both ways.”

“I don’t trust too many people,” Delta said, surprised by her own candor.

“Well, Delta Stevens, you can trust me.”

Squeezing Megan’s hand, Delta slowly pulled hers out of Megan’s grasp so she could write down her phone number.

Sighing heavily, Delta was thankful for Megan’s honesty and was grateful she hadn’t offended her by asking for her number. The last thing she wanted to do was to scare Megan off.

As Megan handed Delta her phone number, Delta laughed to herself. Somehow, Delta thought, scaring Megan Osbourne at all would be an incredibly difficult thing to do.

Staring at the open matchbook and notepad gave Delta a headache. The hieroglyphics scribbled on both was beginning to drive her crazy. More than once, she questioned whether or not to just give it up; whatever “it” was. But she couldn’t let go of the image of Miles’s face when he told her it was “something big.” But did that something get him killed? Was there even a connection? Maybe they had just pulled a job and were afraid of getting caught, or maybe one of them had a warrant out for their arrest.

And maybe not.

Flipping the matchbook over, Delta looked down at Megan’s number. Twice, since their meeting the night before, Delta picked up the phone to call her, but she felt like an awkward teenager.

Staring at the phone, as if willing it to ring, Delta shook her head at her prepubescent actions and picked it up. So what if she found the company of a prostitute more pleasurable than her friends right now?

Before the third ring, a woman answered.

“Can I speak with Megan, please?” Delta felt her heart beating loudly.

“Delta! It’s good to hear from you.“ Megan’s voice rose and dropped like the violin section of an orchestra. “How are you?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“You’re having a tough time of it, aren’t you?”

Swallowing hard, Delta nodded. At work, it was like she was a ghost; everything she touched felt intangible. Sometimes she was there; sometimes she wasn’t.

“I go back to the streets tonight . . . with a new partner. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“I’ll bet. You sound so hollow.”

“I feel hollow, and the thought of a new partner just doesn’t work for me right now.”

“Give yourself some time. No one said moving on would be easy. It’s okay to feel uneasy about it.”

Delta wiped her palm on her jeans. It was good talking to someone with a sympathetic ear who did more than talk about what a good cop Miles was.

Heaving a long sigh, Delta switched ears with the phone. “It’s just that it’s so much harder than I thought. You know, when you get dumped or divorced, you have time to prepare yourself to be with someone new. But this is different. I don’t know.”

“What can I do for you, Delta?”

“I know you’re really busy and everything, and I don’t want to get in the—”

“Would you like to meet me for coffee or something after work?”

A hundred-pound weight seemed to lift off Delta’s shoulders. “Would you mind?”

“Mind? I’d love to. I had a wonderful time last night.”

“Me, too.”

The line was silent for a minute

“Is there something else?”

Delta nodded and switched ears again. “If it isn’t too much trouble, I was wondering if you could get a list of everyone in your building.”

“Which one? Where I live or where I work?”

“Where you work. But be careful and don’t let on what you’re doing.”

“Gotcha. I’ll have it for you first thing in the morning. Why don’t you pick me up at the hotel around three-ish?”

Delta felt her smiling through the phone lines. “That’d be great.”

“I’m glad I can help. Anything else?”

“You’ve already done enough.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, but we can discuss that later. Take care of yourself tonight. I don’t want to be stood up because you’ve gone and got yourself shot or stabbed.”

Delta was grinning widely. “I’ve never stood up a beautiful woman.”