Mistake Me Not

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Time passed, after the crashing and the mumbling stopped, the footsteps retreated, and there was a bang. Her front door closing. She waited. Lacie waited until she was convinced no one could be up there.

They may have left someone to wait for her. Though with the amount of noise they’d made, it was likely someone had called the police. As assumed, a while later, a siren wailed into her street. More footsteps followed. She didn’t want to take a risk and leave her sanctuary, but she couldn’t stay down there forever. More voices and footsteps that were less aggressive gave her the confidence to attempt an escape. She didn’t have much choice.

Crawling up the ladder, she pushed the trapdoor only to have it open an inch and snap back on her. She yelped, grateful that her fingers hadn’t been stuck in it. Weight on top of the trapdoor held it down, but her action had drawn attention. Within a second, there were half a dozen men in place dragging her furniture out of the way. They opened the door and she blinked up into the blinding light being shone on her.

“You got a panic room down there?” someone asked.

“Studio,” she said. “Did they take anything?”

“You’ll have to tell us, miss. I’m sorry to say, the place is pretty trashed.”

“I know,” she said, ignoring a hand that reached down to help. “I heard it.”

“Do you want to tell us what happened?”

“That could take a while,” she said, scanning the room and its disarray.

Her clothes were scattered. Her underwear drawer was empty. Her wardrobe was on its side. The bed was stripped, and the bedclothes and mattress were slashed.

“You must have a helluva enemy,” the voice said.

She let herself turn to look at the tall, brown haired plainclothes cop. “You could put it that way,” she said aware that the men in the room were looking at her legs, only to remember she was wearing another of her painter’s shirts. “Let me put on some jeans, and I’ll tell you the story.”

“Sure thing,” he said. “But try not to touch anything else in case of evidence.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, watching the men clear out.

Her purse had been on the floor next to her bed, it was gone. She needed to get dressed and tell the police what was going on. The trouble with that was that she didn’t know herself.

Talking to the police had taken more than a while. First, she did a quick check of what was missing. That turned out to be anything of value, her underwear, and her purse with all her personal things in it.

The police had then taken her down to the station to give a statement. They’d asked her whom they could call. She couldn’t tell her Aunt Elise, the older woman would only panic. Sorcha would be worse, and she didn’t have Ryder’s number.

By the time they’d logged the details, the sun was up. The cop in charge, Detective Deacon, loaned her a twenty. He’d tried to give her more, but she refused it.

Normally, she’d go straight to Aunt Elise’s. From there, she could phone Sorcha. Except Ryder was likely to try to find her, and she wouldn’t be able to call him without his number.

Lacie used the phonebook at the police front desk to find StoneWall. The only number listed went to a business voicemail. She didn’t want to leave a message. She tried the number three times, ten minutes apart, in case someone was on the line. Voicemail.

The clock read fifteen minutes to seven, it was unlikely that a receptionist would be in so early. Knowing there was little else for it, and little else on her day’s schedule, Lacie scribbled the address onto the back of Deacon’s business card and got in a taxi.

The twenty only just got her to the two-story white building set back from the sidewalk. Grass surrounded the building, and a high white brick wall swept the perimeter. The building itself was on a hill which allowed her to see it, she couldn’t see what was beyond.

A single metal gate covered the only gap in the wall. Right beside it was a button attached to an intercom. Chances were if there was no one there to answer the phone, there would be no one to answer the buzzer either.

It wasn’t a commercial area. In the cab, they’d passed a couple of industrial complexes. The rest of the area was almost all woodland or grass. There was a lake too, her aunt lived only a half a dozen miles from there and they often walked around the lake after dinner whenever she visited to eat.

Coming all this way and not attempting to get in would be ridiculous. The whole set up was intimidating, and nothing anywhere actually told her that this was StoneWall. If this was the right place, she’d made a major miscalculation. Ryder played with the big boys; Shep would barely ping on his radar. It was laughable to assume their offices were alike.

Moistening her lips, Lacie pressed the buzzer. No response. She waited and pressed it again. Still nothing. She’d happily walk six miles under normal circumstances, except she’d stuck her feet in leather boots without socks that morning. Why would anyone want to steal socks? It was nuts.

Finding the boots was a victory. Most of her shoes were trashed too, she’d almost ended up in flip-flops. The intruders had damaged her shoes, her clothes, her soft furnishings. No one could say the men weren’t full of gusto, even if they were lacking in acumen. None of them had thought to look for her anywhere but in plain sight. Not that she would razz them for their ignorance, it had saved her life.

She pressed the buzzer one more time and bent to take her boots off. If she had to, she’d cut across the grass at the far end of the street. She’d rather walk over grass in bare feet than on concrete in shoes that chafed.

“Do you know what time it is, lady?”

Lacie stood bolt upright. The voice had suddenly come from nowhere. The intercom. The guy on the end had the gall to sound annoyed.

After what she’d been through, Lacie didn’t have time for rudeness.

Stabbing the button with her index finger, she leaned in close. “You bet your a*s I know exactly what time it is. If this wasn’t an emergency, do you think I would be at your property at this time voluntarily? Do you think I go around pressing security buzzers on abandoned streets at the c***k of dawn for kicks?”

A loud, scrapping buzz startled her. Recognizing it for what most buzzers did, she gave the gate a shove and it opened. Being on the other side of the gate gave nothing away about the property. Grass. White brick, large wrap around porch, a huge black front door after five stone stairs up to the porch.

The path was white shingle. The worse surface to walk on with no footwear. She skipped over it to the grass and continued to the house. Should she knock or just walk in? The question was answered when she got to the top of the stairs, the door was already open a few inches.

“I like her!” a male voice exclaimed.

“Where does, “I like her” fit in with your security training.”

“She shouted at him, he’s a masochist.”

Pushing the door, Lacie peered around it to see a space the full width of the house with a solid wall at the back bearing only one door. Each end of the room was glazed floor to ceiling. A pool table stood at one end, while at the other was plush white leather seating around a mini kitchen that had a table in the center.

In between these extremes was a high white desk with a hutch over it. Three men stood around it: two on one side, one on the other. All of them stopped talking to scowl at her. The good-natured conversation of a few seconds before was forgotten.

They were huge. All of them. All over six feet. All in peak condition. One blond, two brunettes. Any of them could kill her with their bare hands, of that she was certain. But just in case, all of them were carrying weapons too.

“I don’t know if I’m in the right place,” she said, staying just inside the open door.

She’d learned her lesson about cutting off her exits. These men were far more capable than those who had lured her before. These guys wouldn’t play with her first, it would be over before she got the chance to breathe.

“You’re not,” one of them said.

“Who gave you the black eye?” the second asked, hooking his elbows on the hutch behind him.

“None of your business,” she said.

The bruises were fading. So much had happened she’d forgotten they were there, though the police had asked her about them too.

“What’s with the shoes?” the first asked, nodding to the boots in her hand.

“That’s none of your business either,” she said.

“No one gets in here without an appointment,” the third, behind the desk, said.

“Funny, because I’m standing right here,” she said.

Each of their harsh expressions changed with her sass. Usually she wasn’t sassy, but it had been a hell of a week.

“Sweetheart, if you’re looking for—”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” she snapped. “What is it with men? Why do you do that? Do you think you can just pat me on the head and send me on my way? Do you think I want to be here? Do you honestly think in a million years that I would be here right now, like this, through choice?”

“So what is it we can do for you?” the second one asked.

“Nothing,” the first one said. “No one gets in without an appointment. I don’t care how cute or needy you are. Our business is through referrals only.”

“At least I know I’m in the right place,” she said, dropping her boots to the floor and shutting the door. She pointed to the kitchen. “Do you have coffee?”

“You can’t walk in here and—”

“Watch me,” she said, crossing to the kitchen.

“What the hell is this?” one of them asked the others.

“If she’s a terrorist, I’d love to see where she’s packing the bomb.”

“I’m not even wearing underwear,” she said over her shoulder. “I think I’d have prioritized that over C-4, don’t you?”

“Is this a drill?” they said to each other.

“Usually people leave when we tell them to.”

“Are you pranking me ‘cause of that thing last week with that librarian? Is this a hazing?” another of them said.

The conversation carried on as she discovered coffee already percolating. Almost squealing with delight, Lacie started to hunt for mugs.

“Should I throw her out?”

“Call the boss.”

“Don’t do that,” another jumped in. “She’s not going to do any damage, is she? There’s three of us.”

“Learn nothing from the librarian about underestimating your opponent?”

Lacie crouched and found the mugs under the counter. On the shelf below was a bag of ready-made pancakes.

“See,” she murmured to herself and opened the bag. “There are always pancakes.”

A door opened, introducing more voices. Lacie just continued trying to fish the pancake from the packet.

“What’s the matter with you three?” another male voice.

“Uh… well…”

“What?”

“There’s something of a… situation.”

“I am not a situation,” she said, straightening her legs to bring herself to full height, and tore off a piece of the pancake.

New in the room from the only door on the back wall were three men… one of whom she recognized: Ryder.

“Pancakes,” she said to him, holding up the piece she’d torn off. “What did I tell you? Everywhere.”

“They’ve probably been in there a while,” Ryder said, separating himself from the group. “Come up to the house and I’ll cook you something.”

“The house,” one of the men behind him stuttered.

“Can’t,” she said, pouring coffee into the mug she’d found.

“Why not?” Ryder asked.

“I don’t have an appointment.”

Ryder stopped to look back at his men. “You wouldn’t let her in?”

“Didn’t make an ounce of difference,” the second one said. “She made herself at home anyway.”

“She’s not wearing underwear,” the third, and visibly youngest, member said.

“How do you know that?” Ryder growled.

“She told us,” he stuttered, probably fearing Ryder’s wrath, not that she blamed him.

Swallowing the pancake, Lacie took a mouthful of the scorching liquid then hummed at the heat cascading through her. “Does anyone have the time?” she asked, putting the mug aside and laying the pancake beside it.

All the men except Ryder looked at their watches. “Seven twenty-seven,” they all said in slightly different timing to each other.

“How adorable is that,” Lacie said, brushing her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have to go.”

“Go?” Ryder said, approaching her. “You came here just to leave again?”

“Something like that,” she said, resting her hands on his chest when he wrapped her in his arms. “I wanted to let you know that I wasn’t going to call.”

“You didn’t call,” he said. “I know because I was waiting for it.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s a different story. I’m sorry. I must go to Elise’s and then I have to speak to Sorcha. I’ll probably be at the twelve o’clock, but I’m waiting for the police to get back to me.”

“The police?”

“Yes,” she said. “They’ll let me know when I can go back into my place.”

His expression hardened. “Do you want to go back to the beginning?”

The truth was she didn’t. He would overreact… maybe it wasn’t overreacting. He couldn’t do anything to change what had happened. But she couldn’t hide the truth from him, not when he could be in danger too.

“They came,” she said. “They came to my place… they were looking for me.”

The clarity turned his body to stone. “They were in your place?” he growled. The depth of his voice rumbled from his chest to hers. This was a man beyond angry. The coil in him tightened, she wouldn’t want to be around when it wound too tight. “Did they touch you?”

“No,” she said, smoothing her hands over his newly shaven face. “No, they broke in. I was in bed I… They trashed the place… I got downstairs, and they didn’t look hard enough thankfully.”

“You’re sure it was them?” he asked.

His embrace tightened with each second that passed. “Yes,” she said. “He was… he was shouting, taunting me, before they decided I wasn’t there.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said and tried to back off, his embrace brought her back to his chest.

“You’re going to tell me everything.”

“I have to go to Elise. I have to go to Sorcha.”

“Why?” he asked. “Are they in danger?”

“No,” she said. “I can’t stay at my place. I’d rather stay with Elise than with Sorcha. I’m not sure if Sorcha’s at her place right now because she’s avoiding her family.”

“You’re not leaving here,” he said. “You’re going nowhere until this is over.”

“I didn’t come here to ask you to look after me,” she said. “They took my purse. I don’t have my phone or your number. I don’t have any money either, can you lend me cab fare…?”

“Come here,” he said, taking her hand to lead her toward the internal door.

The men parted for Ryder and her in his wake. He took her through the door into a hall with a set of stairs running up one side. The other side had several doors. They didn’t go up the stairs. Instead he took her through a door near the foot of the stairs and down another set. They descended to a space with three doors, he took the first one into a lounge with a big soft leather couch and recessed lighting.

Ryder sat on the couch and pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth with his own. She hadn’t had a chance to breathe, but the shock quickly ebbed to the comfort of his kiss. Enveloping security coiled around her, easing the prickle at the back of her neck. The tension and awareness that had plagued her like paranoia all morning, departed.

Her toes stretched and her curled fingers held his body to hers. Pulling on him, she lay herself back trying to bring him with her. But they only got to forty-five degrees when he took his mouth away. He kept her close, stayed above her, teasing her with what she’d almost had.

The low lighting and dark coloring of the room made an artificial night conducive to comfort and intimacy.

“Do you have time to have s*x with me right now?” she asked, uncurling her fingers from his tee-shirt to slide them up to the sides of his neck.

His pulse beat against her palms and trickled its way down to her center.

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisting upward.

“Here?” she asked, linking her fingers at the back of his neck.

“We have the time,” he said. “And we can do it wherever you want.”

Except he sat up, taking her with him, then gave her a shove to the opposite end of the couch.

“We’re not touching,” she said. “Is it possible to have—?”

“I want you to tell me what happened,” he said. “I want the details.”

“I came here to tell you so that you wouldn’t panic if you came looking for me or heard that the police had been to my address in the middle of the night. I didn’t have your number, and I was aware that you could be in danger too.”

“Me?” he said.

“One of the things he said was that the boss didn’t want me out and about. I can only assume he was referring to the man who came in with Bruce. The man who was unhappy with my presence.”

“He probably wasn’t happy that you were gone when he got back. The question is, how did they find you?”

“Bruce,” she said. His chin rose. “He said that Bruce told them.”

“If Bruce told them, they would have come for you straight away. He can’t have been eager to tell them. Still, when I get my hands on him—”

“That’s the father of my best friend’s baby,” Lacie said, sidling towards him.

“Was Sorcha there?” he asked, landing a hand on her thigh.

“No,” Lacie said, moving in closer to touch his shoulder, his neck, his back. “She left after midnight. I didn’t want to wake you up. I was going to phone you this morning but…”

His hand slid from one thigh to the other to pull her legs against him. “You’re going to stay here,” he said.

“I don’t want to impose. Your friends don’t like me.”

“My friends are also my employees. They’ll like you just fine now they realize we’re together. We’re an insular group; we don’t let other people in. But you’re part of the team now.”

“I’m not part of the team just because I had s*x with you.”

“No,” he said. “You’re not. You’ve got skin in the game.” He touched her face, tracing her bruise. “I never should’ve left you alone last night.”

“We had no idea this was going to happen. None of us could have foreseen this.”

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t see this as a legitimate case until what happened in that place. What happened to you…? Good luck got us out of there and…”

“You just supposed they were small time,” she said. He nodded. “I did too. They didn’t look for me last night, not really. The men we met, those were the men there last night. None of them is the sharpest tool. They’re muscle, not brain.”

“And certainly not trained,” Ryder said. “Which means you’ll be safe here. I won’t take anything for granted. We’ll give you full clearance for the house, and—”

“Wait a minute,” she said. “We… you have to be sure about this.”

“I’m sure,” he said. “If you stay with Elise or with Sorcha, that could put them in harm’s way. Here, we can keep you safe.”

“I’ll tell Elise to go stay with her sister for a couple of weeks,” Lacie said. “Bruce doesn’t know her, but I want her to be safe.”

“I can send one of the boys with her.”

“You don’t have to… I’m sure this will all blow over.”

“It’s our top priority now. You’re our top priority. We’ll get you a phone and a panic button, and—”

“Stop punishing yourself,” she said.

His anger became agony. “I let you down again.”

“You haven’t let me down once,” she said. “No one touched me last night. Yes, I was scared but it’s over now. We were broken into when I was a kid, and it was horrible. I can’t go back to that apartment, I can’t sleep there again. But I’ll sleep in your bed for a week if you’re sure—”

“A week,” he said. “You’ll be lucky if I let you go at all. Who’s the detective?”

“Deacon,” she answered.

“I’ll get a copy of your statement, I’ll brief the guys, and we’ll coordinate.” Ryder got off the couch, but she stayed put. He went to a panel on the wall and pressed a button. “I’ll take you back to the house now.”

“What happened to the s*x?” she said.

The door opened and in walked the young guy from behind the front desk.

“Lacie, this is Sonny,” Ryder said. “He’s our resident grunt.”

“Thanks, boss,” Sonny muttered.

“You’re welcome. Get Gabe on to Deacon for what they have on the incident at Lacie’s last night. We want everything,” Ryder said then turned to her. “Did you tell Deacon about who they were?” She nodded. “Did you use my name?” Lacie didn’t have a chance to respond. “Course not, he would have called me.”

“I didn’t want to—”

“That’s okay,” Ryder said. “Privacy and loyalty, you told me already. Your morals are our morals too.” He addressed Sonny again. “Find out when the scene will be cleared and tell Rocco he’ll be going down there.” Ryder was back to her. “We’ll get your cards canceled and scramble your phone. Is there anything sensitive in your purse?”

“Your phone number was written on a receipt,” she said.

“That’s okay. We’ll kill my line too. Anything else?”

“Not really. I only use my computer to shop, so—”

“We can scramble that too,” Ryder said. “If you think of anything, let us know. We’ll put in a few ghosts for them.”

She didn’t even know what that meant. “They took my underwear,” she said.

“They stole your underwear?” Sonny repeated.

The same thing was written on Ryder’s face, in much less discreet language.

“It beggars belief doesn’t it,” she said, liking the kid already.

Sonny didn’t have the hardened, cynical edge of the others.

“Clothes aren’t a problem,” Ryder said. “We’ll get you everything you need, baby.”

“I know,” she said, driving her fists into the lush leather to push up to her feet. “I’d kill for a bath.”

“You got it,” he said.