Catch & Neutralize (9 page)

Angie wrinkled her nose. “So creepy.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I don’t even want to think about it.” Tiffany rubbed an eyebrow and adjusted her glasses. Her lanky shoulders slumped. “It isn’t the message that I’m scared of so much as
who
left it.”

Angie’s eyelids went half-mast, left side of her lips slanting into a smirk. “I love a good curse as much as the next girl, but this is serious.”

“I’m serious.
Really
serious. I wonder who did this.” Tiffany held her stomach. “Too upset right now. No more Bahama Mamas for me.”

“There’ll be no such talk at this hour. It’s too early,” Angie said with a head shake. “Plus, we’ve got a mess to deal with. If anything, you need
more
Bahama Mamas.” Angie’s attitude changed, stripped from the previous humor. “Are you really thinking this is some kind of curse or was that a joke? I mean, it’s obviously crude vandalism. Maybe you pissed off a neighbor or patient or something.”

“You’re probably right. A patient or patient’s family member, most likely, but I have no idea who.”

“I think we should call the police. And Kyle Caldwell, that lawyer I was telling you about.”

“I’m definitely going to file a police report for breaking and entering, plus the threat. Not sure if it’s an actual threat, but I feel threatened. And vandalism will be mentioned for sure. I don’t think anything was taken, so I doubt they’re going to consider this a serious investigation. More than likely, this will be one of those ‘campfire jokes’ around the station. Calling a lawyer at this point is unreasonable.”

“You seem to know a lot about police procedure.”

“I dated an officer and learned a few things. He was kind of a skumbag but an attractive one.”

Angie brightened. “Are you still on speaking terms with him? Maybe he could give you some special, personal care on this case.”

“I don’t know, maybe. The breakup was mutual. We just didn’t connect, I guess. Had different wants, goals, blah, blah, blah.”

“You should definitely call him and give it a try. I would.” Angie twirled a clump of hair around her finger, uncertain of what else to say. “There’s a possibility you could reunite, both wondering why you ever left each other.”

More of a high-pitched chirp than a laugh escaped Tiffany. “Never in a million years. This guy’s a total jerk. I don’t even want to tell you why. He’s just so horrible.”

“If you say so, but you could, at least, use a friend on the force. You never know when that could come in handy.” Angie batted her eyes and blew a sideways kiss.

Tiffany shrugged with a half nod. “Never thought about it, but I guess you could be right.” She glanced at the digital numbers glowing on the stove. “It’s almost midnight. I’d hate to call him this late.”

“Oh, just do it. He’s probably on duty anyway.” Angie had no idea what hours the police officer kept. She mostly felt curious about what kind of guy would date a homely chick like Tiffany even if she was pretty cool after a few drinks. And Tiffany said he was attractive? Angie would have to see it to believe it.

“You talked me into it, but I’ve changed my mind about drinking. Let’s have another one first. I think I’m going to need it.”

Angie’s head bobbed in agreement. “You’re finally speaking words I understand.”

How can I keep Dr. Bell’s attention?

This is so weird.

Think, Angie, think.

Chapter 16

The smartphone buzzed against Officer Stockton Wood’s thigh as he pulled out of the Luna Trellis Police Department parking lot. “Oh hell, my shift’s over,” he mumbled digging the phone from his pocket. “What now?”

Dr. Tiffany Bell’s sexy smile covered the screen. Stockton’s irritation quickly transformed.

He cleared his throat and answered as if he had no idea who was on the other end, “Officer Wood here.”

“Hi, Stockton. It’s Tiffany. Sorry to call so late, but I was wondering if you’d mind helping me with an issue at my house. Maybe my office as well.”

“Tiffany, it’s nice to hear from you. What’s up?”

“There’s been some vandalism at my house and maybe my office. By the looks of the damage, it’s most likely a threat.”

“Huh? Well, I’m just leaving the station now. Are you at home? It shouldn’t take me long to get there.”

“Yes, I’m at home. Thanks, Stockton.”

“No problem. Be sure all of the doors and windows are locked in case that asshole or assholes decide to come back.”

“Yes, that’s already been done.”

Stockton thought he heard a smile in her words.

“Good girl,” Stockton’s own smile shined through. “Do you want to stay on the phone as I drive? It might make you feel a little better to be in contact with someone as you wait.”

“Thank you, Stockton, but I’ve got a friend keeping me company. It would be rude to hang on the phone, leaving her with nothing to do.”

“Good to hear you’re not alone.” Relieved Tiffany’s friend was female. “I’ll get there as fast as I can. See ya soon.”

“Drive safely, Stockton, and thanks again.”

After disconnecting, Stockton grinned. He thought about the sugary taste of Dr. Tiffany Bell and involuntarily licked his lips. He felt ready for anything freaky she could dish out. She’d finally gotten over herself and forgiven him. Stockton figured, at some point, she’d regain brain function and find an excuse to get him to come over in the wee hours of night. A booty call on a cold night like tonight after a grueling shift was just what he needed. And this time, Tiffany invited a lady friend. Stockton’s emotional and physical connections to her grew a few inches.

Turning on the cruiser’s flashing lights, Stockton sped towards Tiffany’s without use of blaring sirens. No need for that annoyance in this scarcely populated area, especially not at this hour. Instead, Stockton slid his favorite CD into the player and hummed along to the melodious sounds of Adele’s “Hello” siphoning through the speakers. Although out of tune, his humming graduated to all-out singing as the chorus filled his cruiser.

Chapter 17

Tiffany’s cell phone hit the countertop with a thud. She glanced at Angie, one eyebrow raised. “Guess your idea was a good one after all. Stockton, previous officer boyfriend, is on his way over to check out the bathroom.”

“Awesome.” Angie smiled before downing the remaining contents of her glass.

“Yeah, I know,” Tiffany agreed. “I used to think he was one of the good ones. He’s not, but he’s a good cop anyway. When he actually does his job.”

Angie set her empty glass by the shaker, an idea forming. Not a great one, but it might work. She looked Tiffany up and down. “I’d like to propose a challenge to my new drinking buddy, my new friend.”

“What do you mean, challenge?” Both Tiffany’s eyebrows rose this time.

“Well, if you agree to the challenge then,” Angie paused, thinking, “then you take cash payment and get to think of a challenge for me.”

“Sounds interesting. How much cash are we talking?”

“I think that’ll depend on the riskiness of the challenge.”

Tiffany slid her glasses up. “What if I accept your challenge, but later decide I can’t go through with it?”

Angie’s lips puckered while she contemplated. “Then you lose and owe me the agreed amount. But if you complete your challenge, then I’ll pay you the money. Plus, you’ll be able to offer me a challenge.”

“Fair enough.” Tiffany nodded, “Could be fun.”

“So? Are you ready for your first challenge?”

“First, huh? All right, let’s play.”

Angie’s lips curled up, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “Your first challenge is to kiss Stockton when he gets here. Like, right away as soon as you see him. And I mean a good kiss too. With tongue.”

Tiffany’s face fell. “I thought it was going to be something easy, not disgusting.”

“What’s hard about a little smooch,” Angie burst out laughing, “except for maybe Stockton?” She laughed again.

Tiffany sighed, adjusting her glasses. “How much cash is this challenge worth?”

“I’d say a hundred big ones.”

“So, if I don’t kiss him I’ll owe you a hundred dollars?”

“Correct.”

Tiffany said nothing, remained expressionless.

“I’m surprised this is such a difficult challenge for you. It seemed like you enjoyed talking with him. What’s a little,” Angie stuck out her tongue and licked at the air, “with a dude you used to do it with anyway?”

“We broke up. He’s not the kind of person I want to kiss ever again. I can’t believe I let you talk me into calling him.”

“So, that’s it?” Angie backhanded the air above her head, hitting the challenge into outer space. “You refuse this simple challenge and agree to pay me one hundred dollars?”

“No.” Tiffany sighed heavily. “I’ll do it.”

Angie clapped, excitement sparking. “Great! Do you want to freshen up? At least brush your teeth, apply some lip gloss or something?”

Tiffany ran a fingertip over her chapped lips. “That’s probably a good idea. Let’s go up to my room. There’s a bathroom if you still need to go.”

“I was just going to ask about that.” Angie whined, “Feel I’m about to make a puddle.”

Tiffany shook her head grinning and turned towards another set of intricate doors. “This way.”

Sensor lights clicked on as they entered the hallway. Angie followed, taking in décor along the way. Styled with an underwater motif, the central hallway represented a burning ocean. Blazing orange and black waves seemed to move along the walls. The ceiling and floor were done in the same fashion, giving a surreal feeling of drowning in fire.

The entire area decked in carpeting from floor to wall to over the ceiling. Angie rubbed her hand over it, skin tingling against the soft texture. She imagined being wrapped in fine fabric, smooth and velvety, and being pulled into a hellish whirlpool of pleasure where her dream man hungrily awaited. Her mind whirled around Mark: her fantasy man, best friend, and husband.

When they reached the hall’s halfway point, Tiffany stopped before climbing the spiral staircase. Turning to Angie, she said: “Don’t worry. The wood is old and creaky, but very sturdy.”

“I’m not worried.” Angie fingered carvings on the handrail, “Are these swirls supposed to represent being underwater?”

“Yes. The carvings represent treasure lost at sea.” Tiffany pointed at the first steps.

Like an optical illusion, a magical transformation of wood, an enormous treasure chest came into focus. “I see it now, the open chest with treasures floating into the water handrails. It’s wonderful, Tiffany, gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” Tiffany climbed the winding steps with Angie close on her heels.

The staircase ended in a large sitting room. An attached hallway led away in a U-shape.

Tiffany approached a door on the far side of the sitting room. “Here we are. My room.”

It hovered around twice the size of Angie’s, which she thought absolutely amazing until now.

Tiffany’s bedroom displayed shades of light blue and gray with dashes of pink and white. Her bed decked in shimmery drapes with tassels hanging from thick posts. Clearly king sized, it took up less than a third of the room. At least a dozen jumbo pillows were arranged in stacks at the head. The room looked like it belonged to a British princess. A roll top mahogany desk with matching chair sat against the wall. The room’s center adorned with an oversized fireplace, open on both sides, with a small table and two accent chairs.

A massive picture window cracked open, silky curtains rippled in the light breeze. The river below lapped at the boulders holding it back.

“Bathroom is over here.” Tiffany pushed the door open. “Toilet’s behind the door at the far end.”

Pretending the need to urinate was overwhelming, Angie rushed inside and locked the door. She took a deep breath and pulled out her mirror compact, one with a normal mirror on the bottom and a magnified mirror on top. After placing her thumb on the magnified side, the top slid down revealing a glowing screen.

No messages, nothing.

Angie groaned, desperate for instruction. She didn’t appreciate this inefficient one-way contact system. She didn’t understand the reasoning of being able to receive messages but not send them.

Damn it. What the hell am I supposed to do with Dr. Tiffany Bell now?

Previous instructions: meet and befriend Bell, more information to follow. Under the message, a tiny photo of Tiffany filled the bottom half of the compact.

The CAN (Catch & Neutralize) Institute let Angie know she was at the right location in their strange, cryptic way. The message on the bathroom mirror seemed more over-the-top than usual with
YOU ARE NEXT
, but whatever. They paid her to get the job done, not analyze their methods.

Angie hated to be kept in the dark. It was much better when the plans were known, when the arrangements were easy to follow. She stuffed the compact back inside her bag.

After washing, Angie returned to Tiffany. “Much better,” she said looking into the floor length mirror.

My nose is too wide. Makes my face look fat. Maybe I should consider a nose job, thin it out a little.

She pinched her nostrils, turning it into a skinny nub. A frosty breeze from the open windows lifted her hair.

Angie turned from her reflection and invited, “Ready to freshen up?”

Tiffany leaned closer to the mirror inspecting her teeth. “I already did. Good call on the teeth brushing.”

Lights flickered as thunder crackled and sprinkles started tapping against the river.

“Let me light some candles before messing with hair and lip gloss. The electrical system isn’t great. It gets super dark when the lights go out. There’s no residual city light this far. I really need to get someone out here to update the wiring, but the expense is…” Tiffany’s words cut off as she disappeared into a closet.

A moment later she returned cradling four large pillar candles and a box of matches. “I’m going to light them all. When we’re finished here, I’ll need your help carrying them down stairs. Also, we’ll need to close the windows. It’s supposed to get below freezing tonight.”

As if in agreement, a high-pitched howling fluttered the curtains.

“Of course, no problem.” Angie pushed disorderly curls from Tiffany’s cheeks. “Say, would you mind if I crash here tonight? Don’t think I should be driving after so many cocktails. I’ll need to drive you back to your car tomorrow anyway.”

“I’d already assumed you would stay.” Tiffany slid a sticky wand of pink over her lips and rubbed them together. “I’ll show you the guest room. You’re taller, but we’re close to the same size. You can borrow some jammies.”

“Thanks, Tiffany.”
That was easy. Too easy.
Angie wiped stray gloss from Tiffany’s chin. “You look beautiful. Stockton’s going to take that kiss like a champ. You watch.”

“Still can’t believe I accepted your dare. You really have no idea what you’re asking me to do. It’s more terrible than you think.” Faint lines around her mouth deepened into a frown. “Guess I’d better start thinking about a return challenge.”

Angie unlatched Tiffany’s top two buttons revealing smooth, round cleavage. “Looks much better like this.”

“Thank you,” her voice sounded soft, shy, a little embarrassed.

After closing windows and with a candle in each hand, Angie followed Tiffany. Down the hallway and across from the staircase, Tiffany showed Angie into another beautiful room. About half the size of the master, but still large by normal standards. The guest bedroom shimmered in shades of wine, pink, and silver. A queen sized bed, matching desk with chair, and a wall fireplace occupied the room. Closed and partially hidden behind floor length drapes, a picture window overlooked the river.

“Everything’s fresh. There are extra blankets in the closet across the hall,” Tiffany pointed through the open doorway before moving to a closet inside the room. Opening it, she continued, “Any pajamas, socks, or other clothing you might need should be in here. If you need something that’s not here, let me know and I’ll see if I’ve got whatever it is in my room.” She made a beeline to the furthest door and opened it, “This is the guest bath. It’s got towels, toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“This is perfect, Tiffany. Thanks. I was wondering…”

A low, bass-filled chime echoed through the house, causing Angie to jump.

“It’s okay. Just the doorbell, probably Stockton.” Tiffany motioned to the desk. “You want to set a candle there and we’ll bring these down for now? I’ve got more in the pantry.”

“Sounds good.” Angie placed a candle on the desk.

The doorbell rang out again.

Tiffany ran a finger over her eyebrow and pushed her glasses up before grabbing the other two candles. “Let’s get down there before Stockton decides we’ve been hurt and breaks the damn door down. He’s never going to win an award for most patience. Or most gentle, tolerant, loving, kind or anything else nice.”

The lights flickered as they made their way down the staircase.

Angie gripped the candle tightly. “It feels like we’re in an old black-and-white creature feature: lights are going to go out, candles are going to burn down, but nothing happens. Just when we think everything’s safe, a big hairy monster is going to jump from a closet and pull our limbs apart.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Tiffany chuckled. “Just be careful where you step. It’d really suck to lose balance and roll down.”

“Not to mention, a fire might start from dropping a candle.”

Instead of retracing steps, the ladies turned the opposite direction and into the living room. The lights flickered again before going out completely. The doorbell clanged its eerie tune.

“I’m so glad you had us carry candles.”

Tiffany tossed a smile in Angie’s direction before looking through the peephole. She then unbolted several locks and pulled the doors open. Petrified wood moaned displeasure and aged hinges creaked in protest. A tremor danced down Angie’s spine.

Officer Stockton Wood stood under the covered entryway, mouth upturned and cheeks soggy with rain. In contrast, his uniform appeared crisp and wrinkle free. Rain droplets fell from the shiny bill of his police hat.

Tiffany took a step back, her shoulders slumping at the sight of her guest.

Stockton’s grin widened. His crystal clear eyes bored into Tiffany. Candlelight waved shadows over his face. A mild breeze carried his scent inside, the aroma of fresh laundry mixed with the scent of gun oil.

To Angie, Stockton’s eyes looked like the definition of stalker love. They were empty, piercing, and devoid of color: strangely beautiful, strikingly disturbing. His eyes fit the typical profile of a hungry Hollywood zombie.

When Stockton spoke, his icy eyes remained fixed on Tiffany as though Angie didn’t exist. “It’s good to see you, Tiff. Mind if I come in?”

Tiffany seemed uncomfortable. She hesitated, taking another step back. “Yes, of course, Stockton. Thank you so much for coming over.” She turned to Angie, “This is my friend, Angie Carter. She’s an executive secretary at Hollite Coffee.” Looking back at Stockton: “And this is Officer Stockton Wood.”