Min's Vampire (40 page)

Gabriel flopped down into the chair
behind his desk again, deflated. “Call Francis and light a fire
under him.”

~*~

Lucy used her mother’s flat iron to
tame her still fly-away tresses. She even used her mother’s makeup.
Cheap stuff from Wal-Mart, of course, but since she hadn’t bothered
buying her own, she had to make do. She burgled her mother’s room
again, this time taking a faux silk blouse that her mother wore to
waitress in. It was ‘ho-ish and almost too big in the bust, but
Lucy tucked it into the vintage Calvin Kleins, and finished the
look off with the rip-off Jimmy Choo heels.

She looked in the bathroom
mirror to check her makeup, and decided she didn’t look bad at
all.
It’s a start.
But she didn’t check out her ass.
Hopefully, I’ll still be hot enough to throw that perv Luvic
off balance.

She grabbed her driver’s license and
the two hundred and fifty dollars she’d managed to save from
working at McDonald’s, and stuck it in the front pocket of her
jeans. Walking to the bus stop seemed much easier. She naturally
walked better in heels, and for the first time since they’d moved
to the sleepy, crappy little town of Four Corners, she felt like
her old self again. Not the dowdy, plain Jane who tried to stay
faded into the scenery.

No.

She walked down the street with her
old swagger, her posture perfect, her bright hazel eyes meeting the
eye of everyone she passed by. Her smile grew with every step,
becoming luminous and beautiful. She noticed every man—young, old,
or downright ancient—smiled at her with puppy-dog interest. She
could feel their stares as they turned to watch her walk
away.

Good, I’ve still got
it.
Always best to go into battle with your
weapons sharp.

Lucy stood leaning against the bus
stop sign, going over in her head what she’d say to the scumbag
lawyer. A bus stopped in front of her, its brakes whining from
wear. The door opened with a creak and Shirley peering down at her
from the driver’s seat. She smiled but there was no recognition in
her expression.

“
You gettin’ on, sweet
thing? I’ve got a schedule...” Shirley’s eyes widened as Lucy
stepped up the stairs and fed a dollar fifty in quarters to the
toll machine.

“
Oh—my—goodness... Mary and
Joseph!”

“
Hey, Shirley.” Lucy smiled
and took a seat up front, right across from her.

Shirley turned in her seat and just
shook her head. “I didn’t even recognize you, baby
girl.”

“
It’s just a little
makeup.”

“
Shit!” Shirley whooped. Her
green eyes jerked as she took in the sight of Lucy. “It’s a hell of
a lot more than a little makeup. You look like a completely
different person.”

This made Lucy smile more than
anything. She wanted to be another person. She wanted to be who she
used to be.

“
You wearing that to
work?”

Lucy shook her head. “Off
today.”

“
Then where in God’s
creation are you goin’?”

“
San Bernardino,” Lucy
pursed her lips as a thought occurred to her, and Shirley‘s
eyebrows knitted in consternation. “You wouldn’t happen to know
when the next bus runs there, would you?”

~*~

Things ran smoothly. No more than ten
minutes after Shirley left her off at the bus terminal, Lucy
boarded the bus to San Bernardino. It wasn’t crowded, so she had an
hour to sit and think, without anyone trying to strike up a
conversation with her.

Every so many miles there would be a
sign, counting down the miles to journey’s end. At first those
miles were trudging down far too slow. It made Lucy feel more and
more impatient. But by the time the signs started ticking down from
fifty, Lucy started getting nervous. Butterflies from hell
fluttered in her stomach, and her mouth felt as dry as the bottom
of Death Valley.

But why am I getting
nervous?
she thought, chewing absently on
one of her ragged nails.
I can do this.
That sleaze bag is toast. After I’m done with him...

But as each mile marker declared San
Bernardino closer and closer, her nervous stomach, and her
fidgeting hands got worse and worse.

Get a grip!
Lucy pinned her shaking hands under her
arms.
This is nothing. I can do this... I’m
going to do this...

It’s
illegal
, the mean little voice
whispered.

So?
Lucy shot back.
So is what he’s been
up to. Otherwise I wouldn’t be going to blackmail him with
it.

Yeah, but...
Lucy held her breath, waiting for the mean little
voice to finish.
What if he decides to pay
you off with a bullet in the brain?

Lucy’s entire body turned cold, every
molecule in her stiffening.

A bullet in the
brain...

She closed her eyes and
forced herself to breathe.
Sure, he’s a
crooked lawyer, probably deals with thugs and hoods and... and
gangsters?
Lucy gulped at the thought of
any of those kinds of people.
But murder?
He’s a lawyer, not a hit-man.

Lucy finally relaxed enough to shift
in her seat and crack her aching neck. Her arm and head were
starting to hurt again too.

He’s like Daddy.
Lucy scrunched her eyes closed at how wrong those
words felt rolling around in her brain.
He’s just a cheap, tacky version of... of him. Yeah, sure.
He’s immoral and should be in jail with Daddy, but that doesn’t
mean he’d...

“
Kill me...” Even as she
said it, she couldn’t dispel the uneasiness, the
uncertainty.
Sure Daddy cheated the IRS,
and probably his clients. And he more than likely really did deal
in slave labor.
Lucy still couldn’t wrap
her heart and mind around the fact that her father had sold
PEOPLE.
But Daddy couldn’t have... he just
couldn’t kill someone. So crooked Frank Luvici wouldn’t
either.

Of course he wouldn’t,
princess.

Lucy was getting pretty sick of that
mean little voice.

Chapter 5

THE AIR smelled better, richer, the
sun was warmer, and just being back in her home town... correction,
the city, made every step Lucy took better. Her nerves were still
there, but after she stopped at Starbucks for the first non-fat
caramel-mocha latte she’d had in six months, and took that first,
heavenly mouthful as the taste burst on her tongue, a surge of
absolute certainty rose in her.

She would get what she wanted. There
was no two ways about it.

She was going to win.

Luvici’s office was on the third floor
of a rundown brownstone building. The elevator creaked and hadn’t
been cleaned in about a gazillion years, but it was better than
huffing it up three flights of stairs.

Lucy wanted to look and feel calm and
beautiful when she went in to blackmail Luvici. She didn’t want to
be breathless, sweating, and worn out.

Plus, Luvici might like the whole
sweaty thing way too much.

The foamed glass door had Luvici Law
Offices in faded, peeling gold lettering. The door wasn’t locked,
so Lucy took a deep breath and walked through the door, flashing
the young, blonde, bubble butted—and probably headed—secretary one
of her most stunning smiles.

The blonde’s smile was
sweet, but her eyes gave away a little
So,
what do you want?
attitude.

Lucy started to sidetrack around the
secretary. “I just need a moment of Mr. Luvici’s time.”

Unexpectedly the blonde maneuvered
herself between Lucy and Luvici’s door. “Sure, Miss. But Frank... I
mean, Mr. Luvici, is booked all day.” She put her hands on her
hips, and Lucy could see that she was going to give her more than a
little problem. Could Lucy just push past her? The blonde’s smile
was still Snow White perfect, but her eyes had a hard edge to
them.

“
But it’s
important.”

“
If it’s that important,
then you’ll need to make an appointment.” Obviously this wasn’t her
first time rebuffing solicitors from her boss’s door. “I think he
has an opening in about two weeks.”

Lucy put her hands on her
hips and glared at the woman
. Well, might
as well throw out surprise number one.

Lucy put her hands up in mock
surrender and then sashayed over to a small bank of waiting-room
chairs lining the opposite wall. Sitting down, she crossed her legs
and shot the blonde her best smile.

“
Miss, I don’t think
you—”

“
I didn’t catch your name,”
Lucy cut across her.

“
W-what?”

“
Your name? I don’t remember
asking. It was rude of me.”

The blonde got a startled expression
on her face, making her smile falter. Without the smile she looked
five, maybe ten years older. That alone could be why she was boning
a schmuck like Luvici.

She pushed away the thought of how her
own looks had faltered, and in only six months time.

“
Darla,” she mumbled before
plastering a mere shadow of her former smile back on her face. “My
name is Darla.”

“
Well, Darla. Would you be
so kind as to tell Mr. Luvici that Scarlet Jones is waiting for
him?”

Darla shifted uneasily on her four
inch, absolutely lovely Italian leather heels. Lucy could see the
gears spinning around in the blonde’s head. She recognized the
name, but couldn’t quite place it. “Scarlet Jones?”

Lucy leaned back in the chair, making
herself comfortable. “Yes. That’s the name. I’m sure Mr. Luvici
will want to see me.”

Darla opened her mouth to say
something, but Lucy cut her off with a smile and a, “Thank you so
very much.”

The secretary turned and wandered back
to her desk, looking very confused, her brain straining to put the
name together with what information she’d forgotten. It was like
watching a science fiction movie robot short circuit.

Almost in slow motion Darla leaned
over her desk and pressed down on the phone’s intercom button.
“Franky... I mean, ah…Mr. Luvici? There’s a Scarlet Jones here to
see you.”

There was a thud from the direction of
his office. A big one. Like the sound of a body, or a bowling ball
hitting the floor. Darla rushed over to the office door and swung
it wide open. She gasped.

Luvici was on his butt on the floor,
about a dozen papers scattered around him, his leather swivel chair
rotated by itself about a foot behind him. Luvici’s mouth was still
slack jawed, a stunned gaze on his grizzled face.

And then recognition dawned over that
ugly face, and an even uglier smile curled on his lips as he took
in the sight of Lucy and her denim clad legs.

“
Lucy Hart. My, my... you’ve
grown up so very,
very
nicely.” He heaved himself up off the floor and brushed off
his knees and pudgy bottom. “Sorry about that, I misheard what
Darla here said.” He squinted his beady brown eyes at his
secretary.

“
Nope,” Darla said,
shrugging her shoulders and squatting primly in her way-too-tight
skirt and started picking up the papers Luvici had dropped. “She
said her name was Scarlet Jones.”

Luvici turned and squinted his little
weasel eyes at Lucy now, clearly not liking the turn things had
suddenly taken. He was over forty years old, had a full head of
shortly clipped blond and gray hair, broad shoulders and a sagging
chest that melted into a pronounced belly. And though he was tall,
and the shoulders and hair should’ve given the illusion of stature,
his cheap rumpled dress shirt and tie made him look low
rent.

But he did have pretty blue eyes, and
if his smile wasn’t so lecherous, he’d be handsome.

Lucy forced a beatific smile
on her face as she said, “Sure did,
Franky.
I really need to talk to you.
Alone.” Lucy let her eyes flash to Darla, and then meaningfully
back to him.

Luvici didn’t look happy. Actually, he
looked ill, and every second he stood there, squinting malignantly
at Lucy, the redder his face got. Finally he let out a big sigh and
raked a hand across the back of his neck.

“
Sure thing. I always have
time for Adam Hart’s little girl.”

Lucy stood up, closed her eyes for a
second before walking into Luvici’s office. She swung her hips as
she walked, making sure he didn’t miss it.

By the time she turned around, Luvici
was pushing Darla out the door, slamming it shut on his own thumb.
He cursed under his breath as he put his injured digit in his
mouth.

He hurt himself because he
couldn’t keep his eyes off me.
Lucy smiled
with triumph. She sat slowly, letting him get a real long
look.
Maybe this won’t be as hard as I
thought.