Thieves Like Us Part 4

"What were you telling my cat?"

"We were just talking about my cat. He wants a play date with my cat, Fluff."

"Fine with me, as soon as he gets his driver's license. You're getting white hairs all over your s.h.i.+rt."

"I'm a cat owner, I have a lint brush in the car. Ready?"

She was never going to be ready for this. "Let's go."

She sat off to the side of the room, expecting to be bored. Despite what she thought was a good performance of looking indifferent, she was fascinated.

So were the Lady Sparks. The women's group was dedicated to bettering themselves and their community, and Janet had no doubt they were learning a lot about security tonight. But despite their open notepads and ready pens, no one had written a word. They didn't need to; with the sort of rapt attention they were giving Rocky, she was sure they'd remember everything he said.

He was right about his clothes. As soon as he introduced himself as a reformed cat burglar-slash-jewel thief, the Sparks had perked up, appraising him with interest. When he told them how he and Ellie had started from nothing and made a success of Red Rose Security, he could have gotten dates with at least three of them immediately. Of course, he'd flashed his crooked smile, and who could resist that? Most of them were old enough to be his mother, but charm was charm.

She should have guessed that a man with his gift for smooth talking would be able to keep an audience interested, even in the nuts and bolts of security systems. Somehow thinking of him as an ex-con had prevented her from seeing that he was just as instrumental as Ellie in turning Red Rose into a profitable and respected business. d.a.m.n, another point in his favor.

Rocky's talk was so absorbing she nearly forgot she had a part to play until he shoved a table aside, clearing a large area of floor at the front of the room. "I promised to teach you some basic self-defense techniques," he said. Standing there in those snug jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt that molded to the muscular contours of his chest, he looked like someone who could threaten their safety in more ways than one. He put his hands on his hips, looking more authoritative. "But I have to warn you about something first."

In the few seconds while he paused, Janet could feel a slight tension in the room. She had to hand it to him, he was good at this.

"I will not show you how to protect yourself from someone with a gun." He scanned the audience with a serious look, ensuring he had everyone's attention. "If you are ever in that situation, your options depend on the circ.u.mstances. He would want you to be quiet and he might want to take you someplace safer. Safer for him means more dangerous for you, so you don't want to go. First, if anyone can hear you, scream. And second, if he's not holding onto you, run. That's it. Thinking you can disarm your attacker is foolhardy. I've practiced martial arts for fifteen years, but I'm still not faster than a bullet."

His self-deprecating smile allowed them to relax. There was a lot more to this guy than she'd ever suspected.

"Okay, time to show you ladies how to protect yourselves." Rocky rubbed his hands together. "Normally my business partner, Ellie, would play the victim, but since she couldn't be here her friend Janet has agreed to help out."

Janet got a smattering of polite applause as she stepped to the center of the floor beside Rocky. He grinned at her before addressing the audience, and she felt the usual self-conscious heat begin to spread inside her. Boy, was she in trouble; he hadn't even touched her yet.

"Our scenario takes place in the park. Janet will be the pretty, unsuspecting victim. I'll be the creepy, albeit devilishly handsome, stranger who attacks her." Warm hands landed on her shoulders and nudged her back. "Start over there, Janet, and walk toward me. We're just two people pa.s.sing on the hiking trail."

He could have just pointed. Obviously, he was going to use any excuse torture her.

She followed directions, walking the few steps forward that brought her to the center of the room. Not sure what to expect, she was half braced for an attack, but he walked past her with barely a glance. The hairs on the back of her neck seemed to sense him behind her, straining toward him. The Sparks might not see him as creepy, but it was a good description of what he was doing to her.

Two steps past him she was suddenly jerked from behind and hauled against him. Rocky's right arm encircled her neck, while the other crossed just beneath her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, holding her close. Her gasp might have sounded like a dramatic effect to the entranced women, but it was as real as her thundering heartbeat.

Her head was against Rocky's cheek, and she felt his breath on her forehead. He was so close she could smell his shampoo or soap-something fresh and vaguely spicy. It was almost enough to make her forget she was supposed to resist him, not melt into him.

"In this situation, Janet's instinctive reaction is panic and fear," he told the women.

Her instincts must be a little off. Her heart was pounding hard enough, but the energy surging through her felt more like excitement.

"Most women would struggle to get away, which would be completely ineffective. Show them, Janet."

Obediently, she twisted and fought against his hold. Finding her right hand free, she pulled at the rock-hard muscles of his arm where it circled her neck, accomplis.h.i.+ng nothing. He still held her fast against his chest. She tried to look upset about it.

"Now, this is what I want you all to remember. Even though she seems helpless, she has weapons. Men call it fighting dirty, but really it's fighting smart. I'm not following the rules by attacking her, so neither should she. She can bite, and if her hands are free, she can scratch." He turned his head toward her and lowered his voice. "Bite me."

It sounded so intimate she nearly blushed. Instead, she closed her teeth on his arm, meeting corded muscle. Her tongue registered a faint taste of salt and the tickle of coa.r.s.e hairs. She knew her actions were supposed to look desperate and violent, and couldn't figure out why she felt suddenly shy. It's not like it was some kind of love bite. She bit down harder.

Rocky didn't react. "You might find this distasteful, especially since muggers aren't known for their good hygiene." He waited for the laughter to stop. "But I want you to bite into his arm hard, like it's filet mignon and you haven't eaten in two days. You're trying to tear out a chunk, not make dainty dental impressions. And don't stop there. You have fingernails-use them like claws. Janet . . ."

His lips brushed the top of her head as he spoke, and she went weak all over. It seemed he had a few unorthodox weapons himself.

"She can reach for my face," he told the women. She followed his direction, reaching back over her head. Her fingers touched his nose and cheek. "Don't hesitate," he stressed to the audience, adding, "I'm not talking to you, Janet. You can hesitate."

She held her hand up to his face and watched thirty women grin at Rocky as he told them how to gouge and rip at an attacker's face. They looked eager to try it. When he instructed them to inflict vicious pinches on whatever body parts they could reach, she saw avid interest in the gazes that followed her hand down to his thigh, where she clutched a handful of denim-clad muscle.

"Your feet are weapons, too," he told them. "Especially if you're wearing heels. Stomping a three-inch heel into someone's toes can be pretty effective if he isn't expecting it."

This part she already knew. Ever since the horror of seeing Ellie held tightly against Banner with a gun in her side, she'd wondered what she would have done if it had been her. Along with her teeth, her feet had seemed the strongest weapons. She was ready for Rocky's next move.

"If you're wearing something soft, like Janet's tennis shoes, you can always bash away at his s.h.i.+n. But no tentative moves, make it a good hard kick."

She did. Not enough to hurt him, but she didn't aim at his s.h.i.+n, either. That was for old ladies with limited range. Lifting her leg, she sent a sharp jab sideways, hitting the side of Rocky's knee.

Taken by surprise, he stumbled, giving her enough room to duck out of his grip, and push him off balance. She turned with a triumphant look, just in time to see him land on his b.u.t.t.

His startled expression turned into a rueful grin as the audience laughed and clapped at her success. "That works, too," he acknowledged.

She covered her smile with one hand. "I'm sorry! I thought you were ready for that."

"No, I wasn't. But I guess that makes my point, doesn't it?"

She was afraid he might be embarra.s.sed, but his eyes sparkled as he got to his feet. "I think Janet's ready for more advanced lessons," he told the ladies.

They laughed again. A few gave her envious glances.

A warm feeling spread through her, along with a bit of apprehension; it was becoming far too easy to like Rocky Hernandez.

She shoved the feeling aside and played her part as he showed them how to deal with an a.s.sault from the front, demonstrating both a choke hold and a bear hug that pinned her arms to her sides. She figured out one valuable hint on her own-don't look your attacker directly in the eyes. It could distract you to the point that you forget what you are supposed to be doing. The only advantage this time was that it seemed to be a bit distracting to him, too.

By the time the lesson ended, Rocky had the Sparks asking if he did martial arts demonstrations, too. While he mingled with his new fans and pa.s.sed out business cards, Janet wrote down a couple appointments for home security a.s.sessments for the following week. More promised to call over the next few days. It was nearly ten thirty, forty minutes after the meeting ended, when they finally hauled his sample alarms and motion detectors out to the car.

She took a deep breath of the cool, night air. It had gotten a little warm in there. Twenty-nine was too young for hot flashes, but she could have sworn she'd had a few during the self-defense demonstration.

Rocky slid the sun roof back as soon as he started the car, and she relaxed in the pa.s.senger seat, content to watch the stars.

"Thanks for your help tonight."

Her smile was sincere. "It was fun. I think you and Ellie have stumbled into a gold mine. Those women loved you, and they'll be talking about it to their friends. Red Rose Security is going to be busy."

"It did seem to go well. They're interested in martial arts demonstrations now, but I don't think I want to get into that."

"It's you they're interested in."

"I've always liked public speaking," he said, surprising her by downplaying his ability. "I was the cla.s.s clown in school."

"I'll bet you were." She laughed, having no trouble seeing Rocky as a s.h.a.ggy-haired imp, irritating teachers and amusing cla.s.smates. "But tonight was informative, too. I even learned a few things."

"About self-defense?"

She started to answer yes, because what else would she be talking about, burglar alarms? But he glanced at her with a hint of mischief, taking his eyes off the road for longer than he should. She realized he was talking about himself. About them. About what she might have learned by having his arms around her and their bodies pressed together. Turning an innocent comment into a sly innuendo.

She gave him an exasperated look. "Don't you ever give up?"

"Nope. I can last as long as I have to, but you do test my patience. I'm just about ready to-what the h.e.l.l?"

She was dying to know what he was just about ready to do, but then she saw it, too. Caught in his headlights as he turned onto her cul-de-sac, her car sat by the curb in front of her condo, a jagged sc.r.a.pe showing as a bright silvery line against the dark blue paint. The line followed the whole length of the driver's side. "Oh, no!"

He pulled in the driveway, but held her back when she rounded his car and hurried toward hers. "Don't touch anything."

"Why? This isn't a crime scene. Someone sideswiped me." The car had lost its appeal ever since she'd remembered the purchase had been Banner's idea.

"No one sideswiped it, Janet. It was keyed. See how the line wavers? Another car would leave a straight line in the surface, or an even curve. Someone did this by sc.r.a.ping it with a piece of metal. Intentionally."

His eyes scanned the car, front to back. "d.a.m.n." Walking to the trunk, he poked one finger under the lid and lifted. The trunk opened. "What did you have in here?"

"Nothing." She peered inside along with Rocky. Still nothing, except for a long gash in the carpet.

"They were looking for something. Did you have anything inside the car?"

She shook her head. "Just a few CDs."

They moved to the side windows and peered in. The leather upholstery was slashed in long, diagonal slices.

Janet put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my G.o.d," she groaned. "Why?" As soon as she said it, an answer occurred to her. "The necklace."

Rocky's mouth was a tight line. "Yeah, I think so."

"But why would they look in my car? It makes more sense to-" she drew in a sharp breath and darted toward her condo, but was stopped by a strong grasp on her wrist.

"Don't."

She wasn't going to take time to discuss it, so she said the words that were most important. "Jingles! I have to go!"

"Stay here, I'll look." He held her by both arms, forcing her to look at him. She scowled, suddenly impatient with his domineering att.i.tude. "I mean it, Janet. You stay right here beside my car. If anyone went in there, someone could still be inside."

That stopped her cold.

"Do you have your cell phone?"

She nodded.

"Call nine-one-one. And give me your keys."

She fumbled in her purse, pulling out both the cell and her keys. "Here, this one's the front door. And the code is two-one-six-zero."

"I remember; I programmed it."

She dialed 9-1-1, but her gaze stayed on Rocky as he examined the lock on her front door, then inserted the key. All she cared about was knowing that her cat and her belongings were safe. No, forget the belongings. If they'd hurt her cat, she'd hunt them down.

The two minutes he was inside felt like an eternity. She gave her name and address to the emergency operator, told them about the car and a possible break-in, then hung up. It wasn't the most accurate report, but she was too preoccupied to think, torn between running into her house to find Jingles and obeying Rocky's order to stay by his car. It went against her instincts to stand by pa.s.sively and do what she was told. Still, after he'd told her about the necklace, she'd started to trust Rocky when it came to her own safety. It was a strange feeling, one she'd never had with anyone else, but she listened to it. Like it or not, this was his territory. He was an expert. Leaning on the car, she chewed a fingernail and watched her front door.

When he appeared again she jerked upright. "It's all right," he called. "No one's been inside and the cat's fine."

That was all she needed to hear as she rushed past him to see for herself.

Jingles was finis.h.i.+ng a leisurely stretch, claws firmly embedded in the living room carpet, no doubt preparing to wrap himself around Rocky's ankles. She looked around, rea.s.suring herself that nothing had changed.

"Everything's fine upstairs, too." Rocky ignored the cat and talked to her. "I don't think anyone even touched the lock on the front door. Whatever they wanted, they only looked in the car."

It could be a coincidence-random robberies happened, especially to people dumb enough to leave an expensive car parked on the street instead of in the garage. She wouldn't do that again. Still . . . "It must have something to do with the necklace, right?"

"I agree. Which is why you can't stay here."

She winced. "I wish you'd quit saying that. After Banner, I have this irrational need to resist when a man tells me what to do."

He nodded. "Understandable. However, I have this irrational need to make sure you're safe. You can think of it as professional advice if it makes you feel better."

It might. "Is that what it is, professional advice?"

"h.e.l.l, no. It's personal." It could have come out sounding irritated and angry, but he lowered his voice and held her eyes with his, and it was s.e.xy as sin.

She felt caught by the tension that was always there between them, the unspoken but ever-present knowledge that he wanted a relations.h.i.+p with her, vying with her fear of giving in to her emotions. The air itself felt strained, and she was glad when the silence was broken by slamming car doors outside. "Excuse me," she mumbled, brus.h.i.+ng by Rocky to open the door for the police officers.

It was the second time today she'd had police officers at her door. The neighbors in her quiet development were going to have a lot to talk about.

She spent the next hour talking with officers. They wanted Rocky's version of events, too, so he stayed. By the time the officer was preparing to leave, the adrenaline high had worn off and Janet was exhausted. As soon as the last detective was out the door, she was going to make sure Rocky was right behind him.

She had her hand on the doork.n.o.b as the officer paused on the threshold. "Miss Aims, do you have a friend you could stay with for a day or two?"

She avoided looking at Rocky in case he was smirking. Putting on a polite smile, she answered, "Yes, I'll be calling her as soon as you leave. Thanks for your concern."

"Good night, ma'am. Take care." The door closed on his final word. She turned to find Rocky watching her with arms folded. No smirk, thank goodness.

He waited several seconds before asking, "So what's the real plan?"

She shook her head and smiled, impressed that he'd known she was just telling the policeman what he wanted to hear. "I keep having this argument with you in my head, you telling me to go, and me insisting I want to stay."

"Who's winning?"

She sighed. "You are. I guess I have to pack a bag."

He was smart enough not to look triumphant. "Take your time, I'll wait."

She couldn't drive her own car, not in that condition, but she didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "I'm not staying at your place."