Power of the Raven (12 page)

He nodded slowly. “Go get your things. I’ll wait for you here, then I’ll lock up the house.”

She started to say something else, but words failed her. There wasn’t anything more to say. She wasn’t ready to take their relationship to the next step and maybe never would be. Fear and love couldn’t coexist, and, for now, fear had the upper hand.

Chapter Ten

Lori sat behind the counter at the DMV, trying to stop thinking about Gene so she could concentrate on her work. When he’d dropped her off at work at nine, she’d thought that putting some distance between them would help her think clearly again. So far, that hadn’t worked.

After the early rush settled, she was ready for some coffee and, having arrived on time, still had a break coming. As she went inside the break room she saw that Miranda was already there.

“Hey, pregnant lady,” Lori said and smiled.

“Hey, yourself. I’ve been dying to talk to you! So tell me all about what’s going on with you and the hunk. I saw him drop you off. Did you spend a wild Friday night with him?” Before Lori could answer, Miranda’s eyes lit up and she smiled. “Aha! Of course you did! That’s why you’ve got that look on your face. You’re almost sparkling! Did you have wild sex with him? Fess up and tell me
everything!
”

Lori nearly choked, then glanced around, making sure no one else could hear them. “I haven’t gone to bed with him. He’s helping me, that’s all.”

Miranda looked crestfallen. “You really should hook up. He’s hot and he’s really into you. I saw him watching you after he dropped you off this morning and—” Miranda suddenly stopped speaking, her eyes narrowing. “Wait one second. Are you telling me that you spent the night with him and
nothing
happened? Either you’re holding out on me or something’s seriously wrong.”

Lori burst out laughing. “Nothing’s wrong with him or me. We spent the night together, but in separate rooms.”

“But that’s not the way you really wanted it to be, is it?” She studied her friend’s expression closely, then smiled. “You’re crazy about him, so why fight it? You need more from life than weekends fixing up your house, girlfriend. Grab that cowboy by his silver belt buckle and seduce the heck out of him. I bet he’ll give you the ride of your life.”

Lori burst out laughing. It was too outrageous to react any other way. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Here’s what you do. Fantasize about what you want him to do to you, then what you’ll do to him. Let that simmer until you can’t think of anything else, then jump him.”

“That’s your hormones talking, girl,” Lori said, chuckling. “They’re making you crazy.”

“Even if that’s true, I’m still right.”

Once her break ended, Lori walked back across the long section of desks and office space that was located behind the counter. As she passed one of the workstations, Lori saw Steve staring at his monitor, cursing just loud enough for her to hear.

He looked up, a scowl on his face, and she gave him a sympathetic smile. Poor Steve. He’d always been the slowest among them when it came to processing customers. She was almost sure that it wasn’t deliberate. He was just inept when it came to the software they used at the DMV. She saw him stand up, still scowling at the computer.

“Can I help with something, Steve?” she asked.

“Nah, thanks. I just needed to look something up.” He walked over to the bookcase behind Jerry’s unoccupied desk and pulled out a computer manual.

Lori hurried to her own workstation, and as she settled in she heard a faint metallic scrape on the window glass to the right of the foyer entrance. She turned her head to look, and what she saw took her by complete surprise.

For a second, all she could do was stare. Gene was outside in a gray uniform shirt, tan cap and matching slacks, cleaning the glass with a squeegee.

He smiled at her, then shook his head slightly and returned to his work.

Lori took the hint and turned away. As she called the next waiting customer, she smiled. Gene had undoubtedly pulled strings so he could substitute for the minimall’s regular window washer. From his position above the DMV floor, he’d be able to spot anyone fitting Bud Harrington’s description and alert Harvey immediately.

Just then Steve came up from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. The first thing she noted was that he looked furious.

“Lori, I need your help. I’ve been trying to access the DMV state database, but when I enter my password, I keep getting an invalid password flag.” He ran an exasperated hand over his face. “I even tried it from the boss’s workstation. It’s nuts. I
know
my own password.”

“You’re trying to access a restricted database. That’s why it’s happening. The system’s set up that way to prevent anyone without clearance from downloading the entire state file, which includes every registered owner’s personal information. We only have access on a per individual basis—if you already have their social, tag number, registration number, address or telephone number. Your password won’t let you conduct any kind of data search without one of those parameters. We’d catch hell if we started data mining or downloading, and there’s a keystroke recording program that picks up on activity like that. What was it you were looking for? Maybe there’s another way to get it.”

“It’s a little tricky. A client came in, said he wanted to renew his license, then wanted to know if I’d look up his ex-wife’s social security number for some legal papers he had with him and needed to file today. All he wanted was verification, so I told him I’d see what I could do. Unfortunately, he didn’t know her new last name—she’d remarried.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t get into the system, or you would have been in a world of hurt. Jerry would have caught hell, too, if that had been tracked back to his computer. With the recent outbreak of identity thefts in this area, anything that could compromise the personal information of our customers has to be carefully monitored. We just can’t afford to bend the rules for anyone these days.”

Steve shook his head and shrugged. “The guy’s harmless. Take a look for yourself,” he said, then turned and pointed to his station. “Crap. He split.”

“He must have been up to something and you got off lucky,” she said. “Can you describe him?” She wasn’t sure if she was acting paranoid or not, but she wanted to make sure the incident hadn’t somehow been connected to Bud Harrington.

“There was nothing particularly noteworthy about him. He was Hispanic, average height, muscular build, dark hair, dark eyes. He was dressed in jeans and some kind of work jacket, blue, no company logo.”

“Do you remember his name?”

“Yeah, Mark Jaramillo, and his supposed ex-wife’s name was Juanita. Do you think he was an illegal trolling for social security numbers, or something like that?”

“It’s possible,” she said. “You might want to enter it in your logbook, or make a note of it for Jerry.”

“Good idea, thanks.”

As Steve returned to his station, she used her cell phone to call Gene.

“Your local window washer here,” he answered.

She laughed. “How on earth did you get that job? Did you bribe one of your brothers?”

“Something like that. Sparkly Windows, which services this mall, also cleans Dan’s office. He got them to let me take the regular guy’s place this morning. Just don’t give me away.”

“That’s why I’m calling instead of talking to you directly,” she said, and told him what had just happened.

“Several guys fitting that general description have walked in and out the last fifteen minutes or so, but no one was acting suspicious or I would have noticed,” he said. “I also haven’t seen Harrington, or any light-haired, slender, tall Anglo male.”

“Okay, thanks. I better get back to work.”

She’d never had anyone care enough to want to protect her as Gene did. The thought filled her with a special warmth. She could definitely get used to having him around.

T
HE REST OF THE MORNING WENT by quickly. Even with clients rushing in to beat the half-day schedule, her thoughts always drifted back to Gene—where he was, whether he was thinking of her and, inevitably, how long he’d stick around Hartley. As far back as she could remember, no one she’d ever cared about had stayed around for long.

It was twelve-fifteen when she left the building. Steve had remained behind to lock up, Harvey with him. At least Steve had one friend at work. He seemed like such a loner at times.

As she walked to the parking area, Gene pulled up immediately, reaching across the pickup to open the passenger door for her.

She smiled and climbed into his truck. “I see you’ve given up the Jeep and your fabulous weekend job as window washer,” she teased, noting his change of clothes and cowboy hat.

He laughed.

“Will you take a quick drive past my house? I want to make sure everything’s okay there,” she said, fastening her seat belt.

“Sure.” They were stopped at a light when he spoke again. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what’s been happening to you, and I have an idea, something we haven’t considered before. The break-in at Preston’s happened when you weren’t even there. If all the incidents are related, then that means this guy may not necessarily be after you personally, but rather after something you have.”

“That doesn’t make any sense to me. The most valuable thing I’ve purchased recently is my paint sprayer,” she said and saw him smile.

“Think harder,” he said. “Let’s say we’re on the right track. What could you possibly have that someone else is willing to risk everything to get? Do you go to garage sales, estate sales or any other place where you might have bought something that someone else just had to have? I’m thinking of a family heirloom, a vase worth thousands of dollars, a small wooden box with money hidden inside—anything along those lines?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. None of the above. The only things I’ve bought recently are a used refrigerator and some small tools I needed to fix up my house. I’m not big on nostalgia, which describes a lot of collectors. Generally, they’re searching for things that evoke memories, but that’s not me. I’m more focused on the future, and my present is a work in progress. My past…is over.”

“All right, then. For now, we’ll rule out anything you may have brought home recently.” He grew silent, then after several seconds spoke again. “The subject of collectors seems to have struck a nerve with you.”

She nodded slowly. “It brought back an old memory. My mom had a huge collection of family photos and a gazillion souvenirs from our family vacations. We had shelves and shelves of those at home. Then one morning I found her tossing everything on those shelves into the trash. Everything that had something to do with the past went out with the garbage.”

“Did you ever figure out what happened between them?”

“To this day I’m still not sure, but I think Mom may have fallen in love with someone else. She got married a few months afterward and, before long, started traveling all over the world with her husband, an army colonel. He had no interest in children, and considering they were always on the go, Mom said I’d be better off staying stateside with Dad, who was a salesman for a local tool company. It made sense, but I couldn’t help but feel that she chose her new life with him over me,” Lori said. “To Dad, I was a reminder of Mom, so he didn’t want to be around me, particularly after he remarried.”

“They went on with their lives, but you couldn’t fit in anywhere.” Seeing her nod, he added, “So you pulled away from everyone?”

“Pretty much,” she said.

She took a shaky breath and then smiled as Gene squeezed her hand gently. “The day I turned eighteen, I packed up, left and never looked back.” She gave him a thin smile. “So you see, having a family isn’t necessarily what it’s made out to be.”

“In some ways, we’re two of a kind. The circumstances were different, but we both took it on the chin before we knew how to block a punch,” he said. “You’ve been on your own since?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been able to handle every crisis and turning point in my life—till now. If you hadn’t come along, I would have been looking for a place to hide, or maybe I would have just cut and run.”

“No, you wouldn’t have done either. You’re too much of a fighter.”

She smiled. “Yeah, you’re right, but it’s still nice to have a friend you can count on.”

T
HEY WERE SOON AT HER HOUSE
.
Lori stopped by the mailbox long enough to pick up its contents, then insisted on checking the interior of the house. Everything seemed all right to him, but he could tell something was bothering her.

Once they were back in his truck, he glanced over at her. “What’s wrong?”

She smiled. “So you’re into mind reading, too?”

“Nah. You’re just not much of a poker player. When you’re worried it’s always right there on your face,” he said as they got under way.

“I’ve been thinking about your idea that my stalker’s not so much interested in me as in something he thinks I have,” she said. “If you’re right, then he’s bound to come back here. Will you help me stake out my house, at least for a while?”

“Sure, but that’ll mean long hours sitting in this truck.”

“I know. So let me buy us some good fast food. Cheap Eats is nearby and their megaburgers are out of this world.”

“You like that place?” he asked, surprised. “That sign of theirs is something else.”

She laughed. “You mean the roadrunner chasing the running hamburger? I think that’s why it attracts a young crowd. They see the humor.”

“Madam, are you intimating that I’m old?” he said, feigning outrage.

She laughed even harder. “No,” she said, then, growing serious, added, “but you have old-fashioned, traditional male values.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. In fact, if you feel I’m infringing on traditional male territory, I’d be happy to let you buy dinner for us.”

He laughed. “I walked into that.”

“Yep, you did.”

T
HEY SAT IN THE CAB OF
G
ENE
’
S pickup, across the street and one house down from her home, just out of sight of her neighbor’s window. After taking a quick look through Lori’s backyard, Gene insisted she call Mrs. Hopgood and let her know they were there. That way her elderly neighbor wouldn’t call the police, and they’d avoid a face-off with a tired cop responding to a suspicious-vehicle call.