What was his next move?
He’d focused his research on John Reynard. Now he was going to find out everything he could about Stephanie Swift. He told himself he was doing his job. He told himself that digging into the woman’s life would be the key to taking down Reynard, but he wasn’t sure if he was being honest about his motives. If he admitted he was obsessed with her, that would be more like the truth.
The feeling was a novelty for Craig. He’d enjoyed the company of women. He’d learned the art of pleasing them in bed. But none of them had drawn his interest the way Stephanie Swift had.
He had looked up details about her on the Web, but that was too impersonal an approach. Switching his tactics, he decided to get a firsthand picture of her life.
The morning after the charity reception, he waited in his car outside her house on Decatur Street, and discreetly followed her Honda sedan to a sprawling mansion in the Garden District. It was her father’s house, he knew, and he drove around the corner and waited until she emerged about a half hour after she’d entered, a frown on her pretty features. It looked like her meeting with Dad hadn’t gone so well.
Her next stop was her shop on Royal. When she went in, he walked past and took up a position around the corner where he could still watch the shop.
He thought of himself as good at surveillance, but he wondered if she knew he was following her. Not because anormal person would have caught on, but because there was something between them that he couldn’t explain. He’d been prepared to dislike her. Instead he’d been drawn to her when they’d seen each other at that charity reception, and she’d been as aware of him as he was of her.
That knowledge set up an unaccustomed buzzing inside himself. He hadn’t felt this way since . . .
Well, since he and Sam had played hide and seek. Only back then it had been a different kind of game. Most kids hid and hoped that the other person couldn’t figure out where they had gone. With him and Sam, there was an extra element. One of them would hide, then try to break the connection between them—try to be as quiet as possible in his mind so that his brother would have no idea where he was.
Sam had been better at it than Craig, who hadn’t been able to turn off his thoughts, and Sam had always found him. But why was he thinking of thatnow?
Two days after the charity reception, Stephanie was still feeling unsettled as she went through the rack of clothing on the left side of the shop, buttoning blouses, straightening straps, and generally making the merchandise look fresh. She struggled to stay calm, but her heart was pounding. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen, and every so often, she glanced toward the window, wondering if she would see the dark-haired man with the broad shoulders who had stared at her in the plantation house. Well, it hadn’t been just him. She’d stared back because there had been something about him that had compelled her interest. It wasn’t simply the way his tuxedo had set off his dark good looks. She’d felt a pull toward him thatshe couldn’t explain, even to herself. It was a pull that excited her and made her nerves jump at the same time.
The bell over the door jingled, and she went rigid. As she turned, she thought she would see the man from the reception. Instead, two rough-looking guys came striding in as though they owned the place.
Both were wearing light-colored business suits that seemed out of place on anyone so tough looking. One was short and completely bald—or he’d shaved off any remaining hair on his head. He was trying for a Yul Brynner effect, although his face was too ugly for a movie star—unless he was playing a Mafia heavy. The other guy was a couple of inches taller, with a wide mouth, bushy eyebrows and thick wavy hair.
They both had big hands and beady, assessing eyes. Or perhaps the better word was hungry.
Neither one of them would inspire confidence in a dark alley at night. As they stepped into her shop, she was pretty sure that neither one of them had come to buy a dress for his girlfriend.
“Nice place you have here,” the taller one said.
As they stood looking her over, her mouth turned so dry that she could barely speak, but she managed to say, “Can I help you?”
The spokesman answered. “That depends, sweetheart.”
“On what?”
“On what you have to offer.”
“Nothing,” she heard herself say.
“We’ll see.”
She took a step back, wishing that Claire wasn’t out on her lunch hour. But what good would Claire be against these guys? Maybe call 911 from the back room, if she’d been here.
But Stephanie was on her own, and she was sure that they already knew it. Wishing the counter were between her and the men, she took a step to the side. One of them kept pace with herwhile the other one stood by the door. She saw him turn, and she had the awful feeling that he was planning to lock the three of them in here.
CHAPTER THREE
Before the thug could accomplish his purpose, the door burst open, and another man charged into the shop. She had a split second to see who it was. The darkly handsome stranger from the charity reception. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been in formal attire. Today he had on jeans and a dark tee shirt.
The man in the doorway reacted to the interruption by reaching into his coat, perhaps for a gun, but he never connected with whatever he was going to pull out. The stranger cracked him in the jaw with a large fist, then pushed him backwards, into the other man. They both went down in a tangle of arms and legs, pulling some of the clothing from the rack with them, but it wasn’t going to be that easy to get rid of them.
The one on the bottom threw his partner to the side. When he pulled a semiautomatic from his pocket, Stephanie reacted instinctively. She kicked out with her high-heeled shoe, catching the guy in his gun hand, making him howl in pain. She followed the kick by stamping down on the back of his hand, drawing a scream and sending the gun flying.
The bald one had scrambled up and launched himself at the stranger, who was prepared for the move. He stepped aside, letting baldy crash into the glass of the door. He made astrangled sound as he bounced back, then reached for the knob, and flung the door open. He was outside and running down the block before Stephanie realized that the other man was on his feet and trying to get away as her rescuer made a grab for him. But the thug had the strength of desperation. He pushed the stranger against the wall, then leaped around him, charging out the door, following his partner down the block.
The man who had come to Stephanie’s aid pushed himself upright, determination is his eyes, and she was afraid he was going after the two men. She grabbed his hand to stop him, and everything changed.
