Mad About You Read online

  "Oh, it's wonderful, all right. You can't imagine how wonderful it was to have the police call me at—" Dan pushed back the cuff of his striped shirt to reflect on the time "—six in the morning to tell me the security guard had found you, unconscious, in the seventh-floor ladies' room."

  Kent shifted uncomfortably.

  "What were you doing here last night, anyway?" Dan asked sharply. "I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon."

  Kent sighed. "I got into town around ten, and stopped by to see if you were in. I parked my bike in the alley, and saw the woman. I felt sorry for her, Dan. She didn't seem to belong there, and she didn't seem to know what to do. She claimed to be a friend of Arthur's. I volunteered to take her up to his office. When she got off the elevator, she blew some kind of knockout dust at me and that's the last thing I knew until this morning."

  "Next time, let me know where you are!" Dan slammed a fist down onto the desk. "My daughter-in-law phoned. She was worried about you."

  Kent dropped his head into his palms. Dan's daughter-in-law was also Kent's sister, Aral. He and Avril had always been able to sense each other's emotions, no matter how great the distance between them. Although she was hundreds of miles away, Aral had picked up on the fact that he had a problem and, in her usual big-sister fashion, wanted to solve it for him. "Great," he moaned. "The police think I'm crazy, you think I'm incompetent and my sister thinks I need a baby-sitter."

  "I don't think you're incompetent," Dan said after a moment. "I think you're too easily fooled by a pretty face, that's all." His voice softened with concern. "You look awful pale, boy. Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor? I have no idea what kind of powder she used. I've never heard of anything that potent."

  "Neither have I." Kent took a few breaths and straightened. "I'm okay. Really. It's just that same headache, and the nuts are helping."

  Dan's lined face tightened into wrinkled concentration. "Why are the nuts helping? I thought you only got that headache when you—"

  "I don't know," Kent interrupted. "I didn't do anything unusual. Go ahead. Tell me what she took."

  "She didn't take anything." Dan absently rubbed a shoulder. "Amy's double-checking right now, but nothing seems to be missing. There's no indication that she touched the computer, but Amy will get on it as soon as she finishes going through the paper files. Someone was looking through them. The file cabinet was left slightly open. She must have used your badge to get into the room."

  "She could have looked at anything," Kent muttered. "Are you working on something special?"

  "Not particularly." Dan shrugged. "I'm looking into an insurance claim, and you already found that character who'd joined the motorcycle gang. By the way, his parents are suitably grateful."

  Kent grunted a response. He didn't do the sporadic jobs for Dan because he wanted gratitude, or because he had any need of spare cash. Frankly, he was in it for a good time, and a little excitement. This case he'd just wrapped up had been particularly fun. He'd spent a week riding around on his motorcycle, wearing leather and acting tough while he searched various motorcycle gangs for the kid. As a matter of fact, this last week was the most fun he'd had all year, right up to the point where he'd met a sexy young pixie.

  "I might have something," said a deep female voice. Kent carefully turned his head to watch Dan's right-hand woman, Amy Laxton, stride purposefully into the room. Amy was short, squat and middle-aged, and she ran Dan's office with seamless efficiency. "The McAllister file was out of order," she said. "It was in front of McAllaister, instead of behind it." She glared at Dan. "Did you touch my files?"

  Dan quickly shook his head. No one, but no one, was that brave.

  "Then someone pulled out the McAllister file, or the McAllaister file," Amy continued. "I checked the copier log. Someone made five copies between last night and this morning." She handed a file folder to Dan. "I think it's this one. The other doesn't contain five pieces of paper."

  Dan flipped open the file folder as Amy marched out of the room. "Ron McAllister," he said. He did a quick check of the contents, and started swearing.

  "Who's Ron McAllister?" Kent asked.

  "He's a friend of mine." Dan shook his head, sighing. "Two weeks ago he was made acting head of security for Sharade."

  "Sharade. The cosmetic company?"

  "That's right. They've got a research facility on the outskirts of town. Ron doesn't know much about security. He was in personnel, but when the chief Of security suddenly passed away, Ron took on the acting position."

  "Why did he come to you?"

  "First off, he wanted me to take the job instead of him. I refused, of course. He knew I would. I don't do that kind of boring junk. I told Ron to study the security plans, and probably leave well enough alone until they find someone with the right qualifications."

  "That's it?"

  Dan winced and shook his head. "Not quite. As sort of a learning exercise, he and I designed and installed a super-deluxe security system for his house. The plans are in this folder."

  Kent rubbed his eyes while he tried to make sense of it. "This Anna Ross sure went to a lot of trouble to get the plans for his house. Does he own something valuable?"

  "It's not what he owns. It's what he has there."

  "What does he have there?"

  "A copy of the security plans for the Sharade Research company building. I know they're there. I was going over them with him last week, just before he left town."

  "This gets worse and worse," Kent moaned. "Don't tell me Ron's house is empty?"

  "Afraid so. He's out of town this week." Dan shuddered, picked up the phone, and made a quick call. "No alarm was reported at Ron's house last night," he announced when he hung up. "Still, with the plans, it is possible to break in and not trigger the alarms. I bet this Anna Ross character is going to show up at the Sharade Research Lab real soon. Possibly tonight."

  "I'll be there, too," Kent decided. "I'm looking forward to meeting little Miss Tinker Bell again. When I do, she'll wish she'd stayed in Never-Never Land!"

  Chapter Two

  It wasn't a dark and stormy night, which surprised Kent to no end. Considering the way this long, endless Friday had gone, he'd been expecting pouring rain and torrential winds. Instead, an almost-full moon had risen just after sundown. Now, in the cloudless night sky, it shone with determination, providing Kent with enough light to watch the building at the bottom of the hill.

  The Sharade Research Division building was a four-story, square building, ten miles south of Denver proper, surrounded by well-manicured lawns, a duck pond, luscious flower beds, and, beyond, acres of wooded wilderness. It certainly didn't look like a building about to be broken into by an industrial spy, and the Sharade security people had assured him it was impossible. Kent wasn't convinced, which was why he was spending the evening up here, instead of comfortably visiting with Dan and his wife.

  He peered at his watch, then up at the sky, frowning as clouds he hadn't noticed before floated toward the moon. He should have guessed that today, his small luck with the weather would run out. As the moonlight faded, Kent heaved a huge sigh and held up the binoculars, shivering in the coolness of the Denver evening. It was inching toward eleven o'clock—he was tired, and very cranky. Wherever this pixie was, if she showed up here tonight there was a good chance he'd be less than cordial.

  Faye stopped in the main-floor stairwell, leaned against the wall, and listened. From the sound of things, the security guards were still unsure exactly what was going on. Not too surprising—about twenty minutes ago, she'd tossed a handful of iron filings into the control panel in the basement room; their security board must still be acting up! She'd found out what she wanted, and taken what she needed to take. Now, she just had to get out this fire exit and run the fifty yards to the safe haven of the forest surrounding the building.

  She squeezed her trembling hands together, took a deep breath, and filled her right hand with white powder from her handwoven bag, just in
case. Then she pressed on the fire-exit door, and slipped outside. The door closed with a muffled snap, she heard the hoot of an owl, and tried, too late, to change direction.

  The shadows of the building changed shapes, forming and reforming in front of her, until they were shadows no longer, but a lean dark man who grabbed both her arms and grinned. "Gotcha, Tinker Bell!"

  Faye stared up at the sinister features of Kent MacIntyre. She didn't scream. She opened her mouth to do it, but the last thing she needed was a lot of noise, and more witnesses. His fingers slid down past her elbows toward her wrists and she flung open her hand, tossing the dust into the air. It gusted into a swirl around him, and he hung on to her, but his grip loosened just enough for her to twist out of his hands. He waved at the air, coughing. She hesitated a moment, then whirled away.

  She didn't have much of a head start, but it was enough to get her across the grass and into the underbrush of tangled forest before he could reach it. She ran as fast as she could, leaping over logs, crouching under branches. Her heart slammed against her chest, and her mind screamed with panic although there was no sound of pursuit, no suggestion that anyone was behind her. She kept running, until she ran out of the woods, and on to the dusty road behind the forest.

  The green rental car was parked where she'd left it only ninety minutes ago. She ran up to the passenger side, gasping, searching for her keys in her bag. There was no sound. The road back here was seldom used. The noise of the opening car door seemed unnatural and loud. She slid inside, then pulled on the handle to dose the door. It didn't close. Instead, it swung wide open.

  "You might as well slide over, babe," suggested Kent MacIntyre. Faye fumbled through her bag, but it was too late. He was already inside the car, grabbing her wrists, shaking his head disapprovingly. She gaped at him in disbelief as he slammed the door shut and turned two dark eyes toward her. "Do you want to drive, or shall I?"

  It would have been nice if she could have kept her composure, remained calm, perhaps matched his dry, lighthearted tone. She couldn't. She was too frightened to do anything more than sit perfectly still, both her wrists caught by the long, lean fingers of one of his hands, while he carefully lifted her bag over her head with the other. "I'm real anxious to see what you keep in this," he said as he laid it gently on the floor beside his feet. "However, we'll leave that until we reach the police, eh?"

  Faye touched her tongue to her lips. "P-police?"

  "Of course, the police. Where did you expect me to take you? Out dancing?" His voice softened to a purr. "Or did you think maybe I'd be kind enough to take you back to the Rinholt building, so you could confer with your friend Arthur?"

  "I… I'm sorry about that," Faye said miserably. She hung her head, ordering herself not to cry. "I told you I was sorry." She remembered something. "My long-sleep powder worked on you then. Why didn't it work today?" He shrugged as she thought about it. "It was the same batch, wasn't it?" she wondered aloud. "Or did I get confused and put in the one with too much—No, I'm sure I didn't." She gave him a suspicious glance. "Are you sure you aren't a Wizard?"

  He shook his head. "No, babe, I'm most certainly not."

  Faye cringed down as that faint hope was dashed. "Please," she asked desperately. "Please won't you help me? I'm not finished yet." She gazed up into the coldness of his eyes. "I'm ever so sorry for what I did to you, really I am. Couldn't you let me go? Please?"

  "Yeah, you're sorry, all right," he said sternly. "You're so sorry you'd do it again in a minute. Forget it, lady. You're one cute little thing, but I'm not going to be taken in a second time. You can deal with the authorities."

  "You don't understand. You don't know how important—"

  "I understand that you're quite capable of knocking me out again." He kept his gaze on her while he thought. "I'm not going to drive while you fumble through that bag, looking for another handful of knockout dust, and I'm sure not going to walk back through those woods again, dragging you behind me. There's nothing in here to use to tie you up. I guess you'll have to drive." He pushed Faye behind the steering wheel. "Go ahead. Do it."

  "I—I can't." She shook her head, shuddering at the clenched set of his jaw.

  "Sure, you can. Anyone who can break into a building the way you did can probably do anything. Come on, Tinker Bell, start the car!"

  She kept shaking her head, certain there was no way she could. His expression showed his frustration, then suddenly cleared. "Drive to the research station!" he commanded, his voice softly dominating. It was an order she didn't want to obey, but did.

  It took her three tries to get the key in the ignition. By the time she'd accomplished that small task, her entire body was trembling. She made an effort to turn on the engine, but there wasn't enough strength in her fingers to do it. She leaned back against the seat, gasped in some air and tried again.

  Kent's hand on hers stopped her. "Don't be so scared," he said gently. "I'm sure being arrested is no fun, but they won't hurt you. Physically, I mean. There's even a good chance you'll get off—if you return whatever it is you stole. You did steal something, didn't you?"

  "It's… it's not…" She closed her eyes, swallowing. "I didn't really steal something."

  "You didn't? Why did you break in there, then?"

  She struggled for an answer. "It was mine. I only took what was mine."

  "And what was this thing that was… yours?"

  "A formula," she said desperately. "A formula that can destroy the world."

  He glared at her. "In a cosmetic research station? What'll it do, make all the women too beautiful to resist, so all the men shoot each other over them?"

  "N-no," she stuttered. "It's a lot more serious than that."

  "I find that a bit hard to believe."

  She glanced at him from under her lashes. "It's the truth."

  He heaved a huge sigh. "Fine. Don't tell me, then. The police will get it out of you, anyway. Start the car, and let's go."

  Faye gave him a hopeless look, and turned the key in the ignition. She put a shaky hand on the steering wheel, and pulled out onto the road, while Kent kept an arm firmly around her shoulders. "Before we get there, I'd at least like to know your name," he said.

  "I—I told you." Her heart was literally going to jump out of her chest. "Anna Ross."

  His grip on her shoulder tightened to almost punishingly hard. "There are only three Anna Rosses in Rapid City. One is eighty-six, one is married with three teenage children, and one is a teenage child. Which one of these Anna Rosses are you?"

  "N-none of them," she admitted.

  "Good. That was the truth. Go on. Who are you?"

  "Faye," she whispered.

  "Faye?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "It's certainly appropriate. Faye what?"

  She shook her head, feeling tears slip out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Underneath her jumpsuit, the two files she'd taken huddled against her skin. Her heartbeat seemed to smash into them as the road dissolved into a blurry haze.

  "It's no big deal," he said. His hand stroked the back of her head soothingly. "The police will tell me anyway." He must have realized what he was doing; his hand moved back to grip her shoulder. As he shifted his weight, Faye's body moved slightly and something inside her jumpsuit moved, too. She jerked, stomping too hard on the accelerator.

  "Drive careful, now," he warned. His breath seemed to give her courage. She bit down hard on her lip.

  She'd forgotten about her necklace. She glanced around, checking their position. She still had time, if she was quick and careful. She swallowed, and made what she hoped was an innocent gesture to her throat.

  "Do you know a lawyer?" he asked.

  "A—a lawyer? No." She tugged at the cord around her neck, loosening her necklace.

  "I do," he said, as if the words were dragged out of him. "I'll give you his name, if you like."

  "Th-thanks," she stuttered. She felt so bad about what she was going to do to him. If there was any other way, she wouldn't d
o it. She slid her hand around the small vial on her necklace.

  "I'm sure you'll be out on bail by tomorrow," he said.

  Faye gave a strangled moan at his kind words, and ordered her hand back on the steering wheel. "I wish you'd help me," she said almost to herself. "It's so terribly important."

  He sighed. "Lord knows why, but I wish I could help you, too. However, I can't. I have to take you to the authorities. You did two B&Es. That's a no-no, babe. A real big no-no."

  Faye stomped hard on the accelerator and swerved the car to the left. His body jerked to the side. "None of that," he ordered as he sprang back toward her. Faye slammed on the brake, raised her hand and sprayed him right in the face.

  The spray touched him as he landed on her. For a single instant she saw into his eyes, saw the expression change to realization. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I had no choice. I'm sorry."

  Ineffectually, he wiped his cheek where the spray had landed, his hand pausing in midair as he released a tormented sigh. Then his body went limp.

  "It's all circumstantial," Dan assured Kent. "I don't think they have enough evidence to make a case against you, unless Sharade wants to get tough."

  "That's not what the police told me," Kent growled. "They made it sound like the death penalty was looming in my future." He sprawled in Dan's office and looked around. "As soon as I opened my eyes, they hustled me down to the station, shoved me in a grubby room and grilled me for hours. For some reason, they seem to want to blame this break-in on me."

  "You are a good suspect," Dan argued. "They found you, unconscious, on the road. It looked as if you had fallen while trying to get away, and had knocked yourself out on a rock. You had a file folder zipped inside your jacket that was labeled, Sharade Research—Confidential."

  "Faye must have planted it on me," Kent grumped. "I told them she was there. They just didn't believe me."

  "Since you're the only one who sees her, I can hardly blame them." Dan sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't think the Sharade people believe you, either. Apparently, they are pretty cranky about the whole thing."