Wild for You (20 page)

"Then why is she still working for you?"

"She's an excellent nail technician and she's beautiful and exotic-looking. But in spite of all that, she has low self-esteem and her personal finances are a mess."

"She doesn't sound like an ideal employee to me."

"Trini has other qualities that make her ideal. She's a perfectionist at her manicures and she puts in long hours at work."

Clay's disgruntled expression showed he wasn't convinced.

"The beauty business is very different from law enforcement, Blackthorne. I look for different qualities when I hire people. I think anyone who has the right look and attitude, along with the job expertise, deserves a chance to prove herself—especially if she's a hard worker."

"That's democratic of you, but not very practical. I'm going to conduct a background check on your employees. I'll need their names and social security numbers."

"Is that necessary? They're not only employees, they're my friends. What Trini did was foolish, but I don't think that warrants an investigation."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Then you better be aware that Trini has a previous record for shoplifting."

Clay's brows knitted over disapproving eyes. "You hired Trini knowing that she's dishonest?"

"She's not dishonest; she's had it rough. Her mom was a single parent who was a stripper and God knows what else at a high end burlesque bar. Trini was sixteen when she was caught shoplifting. She told me she had only done it to get a decent outfit so she could apply for a job after school. She also said she's never done anything illegal since. And I believe her."

Clay crossed his arms and stared at her in disbelief.

"Don't look at me that way. I believe in giving people a second chance. Trini was honest enough to tell me about her past shortly after I hired her. If she hadn't, I probably would have never found out."

"That doesn't change the fact that she stole from you."

"Haven't you been listening? She borrowed it to buy groceries. I've already deducted the amount from her paycheck." Marisol sighed. "I think she's gotten back together with her old boyfriend, Ray. He's such a louse."

"Why?"

"Ray is abusive with her, emotionally and physically. One of his beatings landed her in the ER. I convinced her to move in with me temporarily so she could hide from him while she healed. Before she moved out, I got Trini to threaten Ray with a restraining order if he didn't leave her alone."

"Did he back off?"

"Yes. He had just moved to Miami and I'm sure he wanted to avoid problems with the police," she said.

Clay grimaced. "Only cowards beat up on women. I've seen a good share of them. What does Ray do for a living?"

"He owns a beauty salon near mine. When he first came in, I thought he was checking out the competition, but he was checking out the girls."

"Add his full name to the list of your employees so I can check him out too."

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow. That information is at the salon."

"Don't forget. I want it ASAP."

Marisol looked heavenward and sighed out loud. "You're a real slave driver, Blackthorne."

* * *

The following day, Marisol couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. From the moment she arrived at work, she felt like she needed to be constantly looking over her shoulder. She hadn't realized how much Laila's brush with death had affected her until she returned to work, away from Clay's constant vigilance.

At lunchtime, Marisol decided to drive to a nearby deli for lunch. As she approached her car, she noticed that the tire on the driver's side was slashed and the window on the same side was shattered. She looked inside her car and saw a large white rock with "WHORE" spray painted in red letters on the tiny fragments of glass covering the driver's seat. Burning with helpless fury, she glanced around her to see if anyone had witnessed the vandalism.

A heavy gray haired woman approached Marisol with a horrified expression on her florid face. "Is that what the crashing noise was? Who did this?" she asked, panting between words.

"I don't know. Did you see anything?" Marisol asked.

"No, dear. I wish I could help you. Be careful."

When the woman left, Marisol slumped against the side of her car. Tremors quaked through her as she began to sob. She wasn't aware of how long she stood there until she felt strong arms surround her and she smelled Clay's masculine scent envelop her.

"Baby, what the hell happened here? Are you hurt?" Clay asked, his deep voice anxious.

Marisol fought to regain her composure. "Clay!" She peered at him through wet lashes. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

"I stopped by to have lunch with you. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw you leaning against the car with your face in your hands. You almost took twenty years off my life."

She gestured wildly. "Look at what he did to my car!"

"When did this happen?"

"I don't know. I hate falling apart like this, but today I'm really spooked."

"You're only human, baby," he said, stroking her damp cheek.

Marisol peered inside her car again. "I have to call a mechanic. There's no way I'll be able to get all this glass out!"

"I'll take care of it. Go inside the salon and I'll meet you there with lunch once I've questioned a few people and filled out a report."

Clay returned an hour later and joined Marisol in the kitchen, where she sat talking with Vivi.

"Vivi, this is my husband, Clay."

Clay nodded and shook Vivi's hand. "Nice to meet you, Vivi. I hope you don't mind that I need to speak privately with Marisol."

"Not at all," Vivi said with a friendly smile. "I'll catch you later, Marisol."

Clay settled into a chair beside her. "You okay?"

"I'm still shaken up. I've had a weird feeling since this morning. Like I'm being followed and something terrible is about to happen."

"You need twenty-four hour protection and I can't provide that if I want to keep my job. I have other cases I'm working on. I'll look into assigning an additional bodyguard for the times when I can't watch over you."

"I can't work with someone hovering over me," Marisol fretted.

When Clay remained silent, she knew he'd assign someone to tail her anyway.

* * *

The next morning, Clay and Marisol left for work early. He had a backlog of information to review and she had morning appointments. Everything at the salon started out fine until Vivi came to her with a worried expression.

"Can we talk privately in the supply room?" Vivi asked.

"Of course. What's wrong?" Marisol asked when they entered the room.

"Look." Vivi pointed to an empty shelf. "I think Trini has been stealing more things," she said, her keen eyes scanning the shelves. "Two curling irons, five styling brushes, and at least three perm kits are missing."

"When did you notice they were gone?"

"Just now, when I came to get a perm kit. I started checking the supplies and I noticed the other missing items. Trini came to work yesterday carrying a backpack. When we asked her about it, she said it was a change of clothes for a date," Vivi said. "But she never changed her clothes before she left last night."

"That's weird," Marisol said.

"What are you two talking about?"

Marisol and Vivi whirled around as Trini entered the room.

"Marisol will tell you," Vivi said, exiting quickly.

"Some supplies are missing from this shelf since last night, Trini." Marisol leveled a sharp look at her. "Did you take them?"

"Why do you always suspect
me?
Are you planning to tell your detective husband?" Trini asked, her brow furrowed with fear.

"I don't remember telling you that Clay is a detective."

Trini shrugged. "Gabe mentioned it."

"Are you seeing Gabe?" Marisol asked.

"Does it matter? You're married now."

"That's right. I'm also trying to run a successful business. I've given you enough chances, Trini."

Trini's eyes filled with tears.

"Why did you do it?"

"I needed some things."

"That's a poor excuse and you know it. It's almost as if you wanted to get caught. Now I won't be able to give you a good reference for your next job. It's not the missing supplies I'm upset about; it's your lies. You've destroyed my trust in you."

"I'll replace the stuff. Please don't call the police!"

Marisol sighed. "The only way I'll consider that is if you promise me you'll go for counseling right away."

"I promise."

"I'll want proof from you," Marisol warned.

Trini nodded. "So you won't call the police?"

"Not if you get help."

Trini let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, Marisol. You're a good person."

Marisol refused to soften, despite Trini's forlorn expression. "You can't continue working here. Please clean out your position and give me back the salon keys. I want you to leave immediately."

With slumped shoulders, Trini walked out of the room and dismantled her private belongings from her position. After tearfully returning the keys, she walked out of the salon, leaving the other employees stunned at her dishonesty.

Marisol had planned on a free afternoon, but now she'd have to fill in for Trini, in order not to have to cancel her bookings and deal with irate customers. She felt betrayed by Trini's treachery. Not only had Marisol trusted her, but she'd given her a second chance after she'd stolen the cash from the register.

Marisol had noticed a purple bruise on Trini's wrist when she'd reached up to wipe her eyes. She was sure now more than ever that Trini was back with Ray. Reflecting on it, Marisol realized that Trini had been acting irrationally since the day she'd walked in with a black eye. Maybe she was doing drugs.

* * *

The stalker remained silent and inactive for the rest of the weekend, further distressing Marisol. The more he stayed hidden, the harder it would be to catch him. Clay had told Marisol that when he conducted a background check on her employees and Ray Campbell, everyone had checked out clean. She could tell Clay was making a special effort not to mention the stalker even though his wary eyes boded danger.

By Monday morning, Marisol felt desperate for a change. She was sad she hadn't been able to Skype with Abuelita Coqui because her grandmother was visiting with her sister in Cordoba.

During her lunch break, Marisol sat with Zara and Vivi in the kitchen. "I'm going nuts worrying about the stalker and waiting to see what happens next. I need to do something active. I've been toying with the idea of expanding this salon into a day spa."

Vivi's face broke into a delighted smile. "Really?"

"Love the idea!" Zara said.

"I've been gathering information on beauty spa management and it sounds like a fun way to increase our profits. This December, I'll receive the rest of my inheritance and then I'll be able to find a new location instead of renewing my lease here."

"With the all the 'beautiful people' in South Beach, your spa should be a hit. How can I help?" Vivi asked.

"I want to help, too," Zara said enthusiastically.

"Do either of you want to manage it?"

Zara spoke up first. "I'd love to! Unless Vivi wants to," she said, glancing at her. "Then maybe we can work as a team."

"No thanks. You're the best person for the job, Zara," Vivi said. "I just got married. It would take up too much of my time and energy that I'd rather be lavishing on the hubby."

"True," Marisol said, chuckling. "I'm thrilled you're interested, Zara."

"How does Clay feel about your decision?"

"I haven't told him yet. He's too focused on protecting me from the stalker. As soon as I call Blanca about replacing Trini, I'm going home to catch up with some personal things."

"Who's Blanca?"

"A girl who inquired about a job a couple of months ago. She's a meticulous nail technician and bilingual, too."

Before leaving the apartment that morning, Marisol had told Clay that she'd be working late because she had to cover Trini's appointments until she hired someone. But when Blanca agreed to start working immediately, Marisol left Zara in charge and left. She stopped her car beside a street vendor and purchased a bunch of daisies, then hurried home.

Pulling into the parking lot, Marisol looked in her rearview mirror before exiting the car. Relieved that she was alone, she got out with her stun gun in hand. She greeted Alan, the security guard, on her way inside.

Back at Clay's apartment, Marisol placed the fresh daisies in a vase. She craved a nice, warm bath to soothe her tired feet. After her bath, she slathered lemon verbena scented body cream on her skin. She wanted to be soft and fragrant for Clay's arrival.

Tonight would be special. After his demanding day, she would give Clay a full body massage, returning the wonderful one he'd given her last week. She would lovingly encourage him to show her the scar she was sure he was hiding. Only then would he be free of that hang-up. Tonight it would be her turn to pamper him.

Relishing the prospect, she slipped into her bathrobe and padded barefoot into the bedroom. She folded down the comforter and settled in for a brief nap.

* * *

When Clay arrived at his apartment building that afternoon, he intercepted Marcos. "Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

"Gator," Marcos greeted him, heartily clapping him on the back. "I called you at the precinct, but Jenny told me you left early." He got in the elevator beside Clay. "How's Marisol?"

"She's okay. Still at work."

"Good. What's the update on the stalker?"

"He's still out there. I assigned an undercover officer to watch over your sister during the time I can't be with her."

"Has she gotten more threats?"

"She did for a while, but the stalker is laying low now."

"Do you have any leads on who it is?" Marcos asked as they exited the elevator on the ninth floor.

"I've ruled out Gabe. I arrested him last Saturday night when he kidnapped Marisol on a speedboat, but I don't think he's the stalker anymore."