CHAPTER 5
Libby awoke slowly, disoriented, as she opened her eyes and viewed her surroundings. Fear tensed her body beneath the thin covers of the bed as she looked around the room blankly. Where was she? The light of dawn was just creeping over the horizon, letting her know it was very early. Then, as she felt the familiar, heavy weight of Twilight at her feet, she remembered. She was in Tony Pandolinni’s spare bedroom.
She remained in the bed for a few minutes, rerunning the previous day’s events in her mind. The pawnshop… her apartment…the man in her bedroom… It all whirled around, dizzying and confusing. What in God’s name had happened to her safe and orderly life? She was in a stranger’s bedroom, driven here by circumstances she didn’t understand. And what was really strange was that Tony didn’t seem like a stranger. At that moment Libby felt like he was the only sanity in a world gone crazy.
Oh, she should have never drunk that glass of brandy the night before. The smooth warmth of the drink on top of her empty stomach had combined with her confusion to put her out like a light. Heat suffused her as she vaguely recalled being lifted into strong arms and laid gently onto the bed. Thank heavens Tony Pandolinni was a gentleman, because she had a feeling that the combination of the alcohol and her fear would have made her vulnerable to the touch of his lips against hers, the warmth of his hand against her breast. And that was a complication she didn’t need in her life at the present time.
She took a deep, refreshing breath, then bounded from the bed with a burst of energy, pulling fresh clothes from the small overnight bag and laying them on the bed.
In the soft light of the morning, with the brilliant bird songs filtering through the window and a soft breeze blowing the lacy curtains, it would have been easy to minimize the events of the previous day. However, Libby was no fool, and she was not particularly comforted by the normalcy promised in the beauty of the new morning.
“What I want today is some answers,” she said aloud to Twilight, who sat patiently at the closed bedroom door, drawn there by the scent of frying bacon wafting on the air. Tony was also up early. “We’ve got to find out what’s happening,” she continued, pulling on a pair of clean jeans, ignoring Twilight’smeow,which sounded like a definite complaint. “We need to find out what those people want from me,” she explained to the cat as she pulled a pale blue sweatshirt over her head, ignoring Twilight’s impatient scratching on the closed door.
She removed a hairbrush from her suitcase and quickly pulled it through her sleep-tousled hair as Twilight once again scratched insistently on the bedroom door. She replaced the hairbrush in her purse, then efficiently made the bed. “Okay, okay, I’m ready,” she said to the cat, opening the bedroom door and allowing Twilight to dart out ahead of her and down the stairs.
“Ah, the killer beast has awakened.” Tony’s deep voice rang out pleasantly from the kitchen. “And the killer beast’s fair mistress,” he added, as Libby stepped into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Libby murmured, hesitantly, feeling unaccountably shy as she watched him puttering in the kitchen, apparently preparing a full, hearty breakfast. He wore a gray shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose his strong, tanned forearms. And the worn jeans did little to hide the firm shape of his rear end.It should be a crime to have a butt that looks that good in jeans,she thought, a strange warmth coursing through her.
“Help yourself to the coffee.” He smiled and gestured to the full pot of coffee that sat in the coffeemaker on the countertop. “The eggs will be ready in a jiffy.”
“No eggs for me,” Libby protested as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the glass-topped kitchen table. “I’m not much of a breakfast eater,” she explained, noting how at home he looked in the kitchen. Obviously, he was a man accustomed to taking care of his own needs.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that breakfast is the most important meal of the day?” His voice held a light, teasing note.
“Yes, for years my father made me eat breakfast. Then, when I got married, my husband insisted I cook his breakfast every morning. Now that I’m on my own, I don’t even look at food before noon.”
“Personally, I can skip any other meal of the day, but I have to have my breakfast.” He grinned, turning back to the stove.
Libby sipped her coffee and watched as he expertly cracked several eggs into an awaiting skillet on the stove. “Perhaps after you’ve eaten you wouldn’t mind dropping me off at the pawnshop?” she asked.
“Bad idea,” he replied, transferring the eggs to a plate and moving the skillet off the burner. He joined her at the table. “Are you sure you don’t want something?” he asked.
“No, really, coffee is just fine.” Libby looked distastefully at the plate of heaping food before him.
He shrugged as if to indicate it was her loss, then dug in, eating with a gusto Libby found almost nauseating so early in the morning. “I don’t want you anywhere near that shop until we find out what’s going on,” he explained between bites.
She thought about it, then slowly nodded her agreement. “Okay, then take me back to my apartment.”
“An equally dangerous move.” He lay down his fork and looked at her, his dark eyes grave and sober. “Libby, you’d be an absolute fool to dismiss lightly all that has happened to you. Those men were quite serious last night, and I can almost guarantee they will be just as serious this morning.”
“So, what do you suggest? I can’t stay here forever. I do have a life to get back to.” She couldn’t keep an edge of impatience out of her voice.
“Let me make some contacts. I’ve still got some good friends on the police force. Let me talk to them and see if they can give me some insight on all this.”
“How are they going to know any more than we do?” she scoffed irritably. “They were the ones that told me the pawnshop was broken into by kids. And last night they said they thought maybe the apartment mess was the work of a gang. I’ll tell you, it was no kid who crawled into my bedroom window last night.” She shivered suddenly, remembering the feel of the man’s hand against her mouth, the smell of his body, oppressive and rancid.
“Give me today.” Tony reached across the table and captured one of her hands in his. Libby immediately felt a stir of warmth, an electric current connecting his hand to the pit of her stomach. She nodded, realizing she would agree to anything with his hand holding hers. She snatched her hand away and grabbed her coffee cup.
“Okay, I’ll give you today, but if we don’t come up with any answers, then I’m going home.”
Tony nodded and looked at his watch. “I’ve got a buddy who comes on duty at seven in the morning. I think I’ll head on to the station and see if I can catch him.”
“What can I do to help solve this mystery?” she asked, focusing on what was important, refusing to stop and analyze why the touch of his hand had affected her in a most pleasant fashion.
Tony stood up, a frown creasing his forehead. “I’m not sure, but because the pawnshop was the first place searched, I would say the answer to this puzzle somehow lies there.” Libby nodded her agreement, realizing that at least that much made sense. “While I’m gone, I want you to make a list of everyone who came into the shop on the day before the break-in. Write down names and what items were pawned.”
This time it was Libby’s turn to frown. “That’s quite a tall order. This is the busiest time of the year for the business. Besides, there are lots of customers who I’ve never seen before and probably won’t see again. I certainly won’t be able to remember their names.”
