5
T wenty-five tipsy women crowded the floor jostling for the best position. Eve shoved Annie front and center and ordered her not to move.
“I’m aiming for you,” she said. “You’re long overdue to get married.”
Marriage must be a disease, Annie thought. Once a person suffered the disorder, they weren’t happy until everyone else had it, too. Well, it wasn’t going to happen to her.
Lifting her skirts, Annie waited until Eve turned her back to the group before she began to sidle off the floor. The women beside her were more than happy to let her move. This was true Darwinism and only the fittest would survive, or in this case, wrestle her fellow women to the floor for a fistful of flowers.
The crowd was chanting, “One...two...” Annie was almost in the clear. Just another couple of feet and she could slip out the back toward the rest room. “Three!”
Eve let the bouquet fly and Annie dodged toward the door. One moment it was in her line of sight. The next it was obscured by a forest of white peonies. The bouquet bounced off of her forehead and rolled down her face, getting stuck in the bodice of her dress.
“It’s mine!” shrieked one of the bridesmaids and she dove at Annie as if she would tackle her and tear the dress from her body in order to get the bouquet. Annie felt her jaw open and she would have screamed but an arm looped around her waist, scooping her off of her feet even as it halted the breath in her lungs. The would-be bouquet snatcher was left to skid across the floor, her arms floundering as they grasped nothing but air.
“Well, it appears you’re the big winner.” Fisher chuckled, carrying Annie across the floor.
Annie felt the ribbon wrapped stem of the bouquet dig into her left breast and she fought to untangle it from her bra. The urge to hit him on the head with it was almost too much to resist.
“Quit pouting,” he teased. “You caught it fair and square. I saw you diving for it. If you didn’t want it, you shouldn’t have caught it.”
“I did not dive...” Belatedly, she noticed the gleam in his eye. He was teasing her. “Argh!”
Fisher laughed, adjusting her in his arms as he did so. “Relax. So you caught the bouquet. It doesn’t mean you have to marry next.”
“No,” she agreed. “But it means some dork is going to get to feel up my leg when he puts the garter on me.”
“What?” His gaze snapped to hers.
“That’s how this little ritual goes. Whoever catches the garter puts it on the person who catches the bouquet.” She sighed. “With my luck, Stewart will catch the garter and I’ll be back at square one.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “Not on my watch he won’t.”
Annie watched his square jaw lock into place. He looked more forceful than she would have thought possible. Why it made her heart pound, she didn’t want to know.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“Oh, yes I do,” he said. His tone didn’t allow for discussion.
“You can put me down now,” she said, feeling the stares of the crowd upon them.
Fisher glanced at her. His dark brown eyes were inscrutable. She felt trapped within his gaze. He released his arm from beneath her knees, but retained his grip about her waist, keeping her close as she slid down his body to stand on her own two feet. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but the intensity of his look was disturbing. Had it been anyone but him, she would have run.
“All right, ladies and gents, now it’s time for the garter,” the DJ’s voice boomed through the room.
Annie turned to watch Tony take the garter off of Eve. To his credit, he did it with a lot of humor. Throwing up the hem of Eve’s skirt with a wicked wink, he made his bride blush and laugh and she playfully swatted his shoulder. Once Tony had the garter, she stood and waved it over his head like a trophy. The crowd cheered.
“Now if we could have all of the single men come forward,” the DJ instructed.
“Wish me luck,” Fisher said. Releasing Annie with a quick squeeze of her waist, he strode forward.
Annie felt her palms grow damp around the bouquet. She was actually nervous. Oh, how ridiculous, she thought. It was just a silly wedding ritual. It didn’t mean anything, yet she couldn’t look away.
“Annie,” Eve said as she raced to her side. “I’m so happy you caught the bouquet. You know what that means?”
“Yes, Eve, I know,” Annie said, not looking at her friend.
“It means you’re next,” Eve chimed as if this was the greatest news on Earth.
“Don’t bet on it,” Annie said. If Eve heard the sarcasm in Annie’s voice, she ignored it.
“So, who do you think will catch the garter?” Eve asked. “Stewart? Or your new beau?”
“He’s not...” Annie’s voice trailed off in the midst of her denial. Fisher wasn’t her new beau, but he wasn’t just her tenant, either. How had life become so complicated so fast?
She watched the men form a jovial group in the center of the dance floor. Most were laughing, nudging each other in the ribs. Two were not. Stewart and Fisher. They stood in the center of the melee, elbow to elbow. Neither of them was smiling.
Tony sashayed around the group, taunting them a bit. He made to toss the garter and half of the group stumbled in that direction. Only Fisher stood still, motionless, watching Tony with a single-minded concentration that might have been unnerving had Tony been aware of it. Annie knew it unnerved her.
What would it be like to be on the receiving end of that attention when there was no one else around? When it was just the two of them? Her stomach fluttered. Oh my, she thought and forced some air into her lungs.
Tony twirled the garter on his finger and grinned. Turning his back to the men, he flung the garter over his shoulder. The garter didn’t weigh enough to propel it very far. It fell short of the group, heading for the floor at their feet. Annie saw Stewart elbow Fisher hard in the side. Fisher took the blow and somehow used it to push himself forward. Hands outstretched, he dove onto the floor like a runner heading for home plate. He curled his fingers around the garter.
“Yes!” Annie shouted with a raised fist.
Fisher met her gaze from his sprawled position on the floor and laughed. Annie looked at her fist and then pretended she was in midstretch, twisting as if she’d just been relieving a backache. Fisher laughed harder. She felt the heat of embarrassment rush into her face and she jerked her gaze down to her bouquet, pretending a sudden interest in the arrangement.
“Hey, he pushed me,” Stewart protested, his voice high and whiny like a child tasting defeat.
Annie’s head snapped up. “Was that before or after you elbowed him, Stewart?”
“You know what they say, Stew, all’s fair in love and war,” Fisher declared as he rose from the floor and dusted off his suit front.
“Ain’t that a fact?” Tony laughed and looped his arm about Eve’s waist.
“Humph!” Stewart sniffed and stalked away.
“Now for the fun part,” the DJ’s voice boomed. “Will our lovely couple please step forward so that the gentleman may bestow the garter upon the lady?”
“We don’t have to do this, do we?” Annie asked Eve.
“Of course you do,” Eve declared. “It’s tradition.”
“But...” Annie began, but Fisher interrupted her.
“Come on, honey, it’ll be fun.”
The look in his eyes promised much more than fun. Annie gulped. The ribbon wrapped handle of the bouquet dug into her palm and she realized she was holding it much too tightly. How could he make her so nervous with just a look?
Fisher led her to the lone chair in the middle of the dance floor. Annie had been in nine weddings and had attended more than double that many. She knew the shtick. She had always managed to avoid participating in this particular event. It was more than a little unnerving to be under the scrutiny of three hundred guests and the wolfish look Fisher was giving her was not helping.
“All rightee then,” the DJ boomed into his microphone and Annie jumped. “How about a little mood music?”
The bass beat of a stripper’s number thumped through the room. Annie felt her face flush hot. Laughter erupted through the room and she tried to smile through gritted teeth. It was one thing to place one’s self in the spotlight for a good cause. It was quite another to be thrust there for no good purpose.
“Hurry up,” she growled at Fisher as he knelt before her.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He grinned and then he winked. It was a wicked wink. He was lucky there were three hundred witnesses around them, or she would have kicked him. “What’s the matter, Annie? Nervous?”
The fact that he guessed so accurately was perturbing. Annie refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing her so well. Parting her lips into a facsimile of a smile, she lied, “No, I’m not.”
“Really?” He leaned close. “I am.”
Annie felt all of the blood in her body rush south.
She had no time to react. Fisher tossed the hem of her skirt up and lifted her foot onto his thigh. He made to slide the garter over the gaudy purple shoe, but then appeared to think better of it. Lifting her foot with one hand, he slid her shoe off then tossed it over his shoulder. The crowd went wild.
Replacing her foot on his thigh, Fisher began to work the garter over her toes. Her heel rested against his thigh, and Annie was stunned by the heat and hardness of him she could feel through his slacks. She’d never met a man with thighs like rocks before. She was speechless.
He cradled her foot again, his thumb digging into the arch for an impromptu massage. Annie had to bite her lip to keep from moaning and sagging in the chair. How did he know her feet were killing her?
His hands moved over her ankle and slid slowly up her calf. She glanced at him. His gaze was intent upon her face as if seeking her every reaction to his touch. As his fingers stroked her bare skin, Annie thought she might faint from the sheer delicious torture. He smiled. Somehow, he knew. He knew what she was thinking.
“You do have great legs,” he said.
“The other one is wood,” she joked, trying to diffuse the tension. He laughed, but his gaze still bespoke desire.
“Really? When you flashed me in the parking lot, I could have sworn they were both flesh and bone. But I’m happy to check out the other one to be sure.”
“Oh no,” she protested, batting her skirt down. “That’s not necessary.”
“Darn,” he said with regret. His fingers had stilled halfway up her calf.
“Are you done?” she asked, trying to rise.
“Not quite.” He held her in her seat. “I think it’s supposed to go up around your thigh.”
“The knee will do,” she said breathlessly.
His fingers began to move again, slowly, steadily. Annie felt all of the heat in her body pool low in her belly and she squirmed in her chair. He lifted the garter up over her knee. His fingers traced the satin band, making it lie flat against her skin. His gaze met hers and locked. The desire thumping between them was like an aching physical presence.
The crowd burst into rowdy cheers and the moment was broken.
“Kiss her,” one heckler yelled from the sidelines and soon others joined in, making it a chant.
“We can’t disappoint our public,” Fisher said extending his hand to help her out of the chair.
“Yes, we can,” she said as she brushed at the skirt of her dress.
“Why so shy all of the sudden, Annie-girl?” He caught her chin in the palm of his hand forcing her to meet his gaze.
“I wasn’t looking for this,” she said.
“Neither was I,” he sighed just before his mouth claimed hers.
The kiss was brief. The mere brushing of lips, but it shook Annie all the way down to her shoeless toes.
The DJ turned off the bump and grind, replacing it with Nat King Cole singing “Unforgettable.” Fisher gazed at the woman before him and thought how appropriate it was. Annie Talbot was like no one he had ever known...unforgettable.
Even in that horrible purple dress she was striking. Her long fiery hair framed a delicate face lightly brushed with freckles. She was a rare combination of seductive innocence and compassionate toughness. She would do anything for a loved one, giving of herself so freely that he was moved to worry about her.
Without thinking about it, he knelt and placed her shoe on her foot. Then he stood and pulled her into his arms and they began to sway to the music.
He could feel her heat against him, her softness pressing into him. He felt as if he were being pulled over and under by a tide. She was bewitching him. With her easy smile and enchanting laughter, her quick wit and sympathetic soul, she had him completely under her spell.
She couldn’t be a criminal. He couldn’t be that wrong about her. His hand tightened around her waist and his fingers brushed the abrupt flare of her hip. Oh hell! The woman was built like an hourglass. He moved his hand back up.
He wasn’t going to touch her. But she leaned her head against his shoulder and the scent of her hair taunted him. Fisher inhaled, feeling both soothed and stirred by her. How was that possible?
He’d worked for the Bureau for ten years. Never had he gotten personally involved with a suspect and he’d been much deeper undercover than this. He had to be more careful or Annie Talbot would have the power to destroy him and everything he’d worked for.
The song ended. Fisher stepped away from her, avoiding her seductive blue gaze. He had to keep her at a distance. Stepping back, he asked, “Do you want something to drink?”
“Water would be great,” she said, her voice was low and sexy. He put more distance between them.
“I’ll be back,” he said and felt himself all but run from her. The big, bad FBI guy was afraid of a little, red-haired baker. If he wasn’t so appalled he would have laughed.
“How was the wedding?” Brian asked as soon as Fisher stepped into the office Monday morning.
“Fine,” Fisher said, feeling unaccountably defensive.
“Fine?” Brian repeated, pushing his round spectacles up on his nose. His tie was askew and he looked rumpled, as if he’d slept in his clothes.
“Yeah, fine,” he repeated. “What’s wrong? Baby keep you up?”
“Yeah. Bri Jr.’s got colic.” Brian shook his head. “Who knew that could rip your heart out?”
“How’s Susan?”
“Managing,” Brian said with a smile. “She’s a wonder with the little guy.”
“You picked a good one.”
“Sure did,” Brian sighed. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Fine is a good description for the weather, but it tells me diddly-squat about the wedding. So, what happened? Any suspects?”
“There are a couple of background checks I want to run,” Fisher said. “Her ex-boyfriend, Stewart Anderson, her rival in business, Martin Delgado and one of her employees, Denise Barrows. We can start with Stew.”
“The ex?” Brian asked with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, if he’s had so much as a parking ticket, I want to know.”
“Why him?”
“He’s too intent on Annie. He won’t let go of her, and I don’t think it’s because he’s in love with her,” Fisher said.
“Why do you suppose then?”
“I don’t know, but it has something to do with the business.”
“He’s an entrepreneur, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, maybe we need to check out some of his business dealings a bit more closely.”
“Good idea.”
“McCoy, Phillips, how’s Operation Coffee Break going?” Paul Van Buren strode into the office, clutching a can of soda. He looked surly this morning, more surly than usual.
“Good,” Fisher lied. “We’ve got a lead on her ex.”
“What about the girl?” Van Buren asked.
“She’s innocent,” Fisher said automatically.
“How do you know?” Van Buren snapped.
“I was there when the shop was robbed,” he said. “She loves that place. She was devastated when it was vandalized. This is not someone who would risk her own shop.”
“Maybe she’s mixed up with some heavy hitters,” Brian offered.
“What are you saying? She’s a side piece?” Van Buren asked.
“No!” Fisher denied more adamantly than he’d intended. Both Brian and Van Buren looked at him with raised eyebrows. “No,” he said more softly. “I would say she is na?ve and a bit too trusting.”
“Should we bring her into the loop?” Van Buren asked. “Can she be trusted?”
“I’d stake my job on it,” Fisher said.
“You will be,” Van Buren said. “Sit her down and have a talk with her. See if she knows anything that might tell us who is using The Coffee Break to launder money in and out of Phoenix.”
“All right,” Fisher agreed. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”
“Oh, and McCoy.” Van Buren paused before he left. “You’d better be right about her.”
“I am,” Fisher said.
Fisher left his Jeep parked on the curb. He could see the lights on inside The Coffee Break and suspected that Annie was still cleaning up the mess left from the burglary. She’d been hoping to reopen today, but with the wedding all day Saturday, Sunday hadn’t given them enough time to clean up and restock the supplies. He’d spent all day yesterday fixing broken furniture, sorting coffee beans and chasing around Phoenix trying to replace the food goods.
She’d thrown out all of her baked goods. It made him furious to think of someone trashing all her hard work. Who had done this and why?
He jogged up the three steps to the front door. He could see her placing fresh muffins in the display counter at the front of the store. Her hair was pulled back in a thick braid that swung over her shoulder as she leaned over. He felt his fingers flex with the desire to touch it.
The urge to protect her hit him low and hard. He didn’t want to bring her into the loop. He didn’t want to see her hurt. He knew that as surely as he knew he desired her. She would think he’d been using her all along. Perhaps he had been in the beginning, but things had changed between them.
He had no choice, however. They needed her assistance. He only hoped she’d still be willing to help after he told her the truth.
As if sensing his gaze upon her, Annie glanced up. A smile parted her lips as soon as she recognized him. It made his gut twist. He grasped the door handle and pulled. He couldn’t budge it. The door was locked. He frowned. Why did she lock it? Surely, she couldn’t already know...
“Hi, Fisher,” she said as she unlocked the door. “See? I remembered to lock it.”
Fisher felt a sigh of relief escape him. She hadn’t been locking him out.
“Why are you coming in the front door? Did you lose your key?”
“No.” He followed her into the shop, turning the door’s dead bolt behind him. “I thought you might be here.”
“Oh?” she asked, glancing down as if avoiding his gaze. “Did you want to see me?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I need to talk to you about something.”
She glanced up at him. She looked fearful, cautious, as if expecting a blow. But in a blink the look was gone. She stiffened her back and marched back to the display case.
“Okay. How about a slice of hazelnut torte while we talk?” She didn’t wait for him to answer but began dishing out the decadent dessert. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of milk. Placing the food on a nearby table, she gestured for Fisher to sit down.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Talk.”
“I’m glad you locked the door,” he said, stalling for time.
She lifted her eyebrows and then wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m still not buying a personal assault system.”
“Personal protection device,” he corrected her. He would have continued his lecture, but he took a bite of the torte and was rendered speechless. How could anyone create such perfection? It was the perfect blend of flavors, sweet chocolate and crunchy nuts. If there was a heaven, this was it.
“Fisher?” She watched him with a small smile tipping her lips. “Fisher? Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
He dropped his fork. “Yeah.”
At his somber tone, the spark in her eyes dimmed and she plopped onto the seat across from him with a thump.
“I wish I could have told you sooner, but...” he paused. Was there a tactful way to tell a woman you’d been lying to her for days? Did Hallmark make a card for this?
“You’re married, aren’t you?” she interrupted his thoughts.
“Married? No.” He shook his head. “Nothing like that.”
“Gay?”
“No.”
“Emotionally unavailable?”
“What? No.”
“Commitment phobic?”
“Hell no!”
“Then what?” she asked, sounding exasperated.
He paused unable to think of a delicate way to put it.
“Oh, I get it. You don’t like me that way,” she said, rising from her seat. She began to swipe nonexistent crumbs from the tabletop. “Don’t wrack your brain trying to find a nice way to tell me, just say it. You think of me as a sister, and you don’t want to ruin our friendship. There. Now was that so hard?”
She began to walk away, but Fisher caught her by the wrist. He tugged her toward him. She dug in her heels. He tugged harder. Her chin was tipped up at a proud angle, but he could see the hurt in her face. It was as if every muscle had gone lax, giving her whole face a sad, wilted appearance. It broke his heart.
“Annie, sit down,” he whispered. When she didn’t appear inclined to follow his orders, he pulled her onto the chair beside him. “What I have to tell you has almost nothing to do with us.”
“Oh...Oh?” she asked. Her face flamed a vibrant shade of scarlet and she glanced at the fingers she held clenched into fists. He watched her take a deep breath and slowly release her fingers.
“You know that I work for the government,” he began, watching her face. “But do you know exactly what I do?”
“I thought you were a paper jockey for some bureaucratic office,” she said.
“Close.” He sent her a wry smile.
Now that the moment of truth had arrived, he found himself painfully reluctant to tell her. He didn’t want to hurt her. But she needed to know what was happening. Even if it meant losing her.
“I do write reports,” he said. “Some days it seems I’m wading hip-deep in paper, but my title isn’t paper jockey, it’s special agent.”
“Special agent?” She blinked at him. “That sounds ominous...like Secret Service or CIA.”
“Actually, it’s FBI,” he said. “I’m a special agent with the FBI.”
“FBI?” Her mouth popped open and her eyes grew wide. “You’re an FBI agent?”
“Yes.” He watched the emotions pass over her face like storm clouds rolling over a blue sky. He held his breath waiting for the rumble of thunder.
It never came. She sat watching him, studying him. Her gaze scrutinized him, as if trying to figure out how this new information fit in with everything she knew about him. Fisher shifted under her watchful gaze. He’d feel better if she’d just yell at him and get it over with. No such luck.
“Well?” he prompted her.
“Well what?” she asked.
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “Thank you for telling me.”
Fisher frowned. He was going to have to be more blunt.
“Although,” she spoke, halting his chance. “I should have known you’d have a law-and-order type of career. It suits your rigidity.”
“Rigid? I am not rigid,” he protested.
“Yes, you are,” she argued.
“I like order, but I’m not rigid.”
“Uh-huh,” she grunted.
“Look, we’re getting off track here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The fact is, I’m not just here because I need a place to live. I’m here to stake out The Coffee Break.”
“What? Stake out?” Her eyebrows snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that someone has been laundering money through your shop and I was placed here to try and figure out who is doing it.”
“Laundering money? My shop?” She looked at him, looked away and then back. She burst out laughing. “Oh, you almost had me. I can’t believe I nearly fell for it.”
Her laugh was light and airy, and for the first time since he’d heard it, Fisher wasn’t moved to laugh in return.
“Annie...” he said.
“You would have had me if it weren’t so ridiculous,” she chuckled.
“Annie, it’s true.”
Her sparkling blue eyes met this and the smile seeped out of them as if someone dimmed a light. Her face paled, leaving her freckles looking dark against her skin. “That’s not...how could...oh my God!”
Fisher reached out to steady her on her chair. She looked as if he’d yanked the floor right out from under her.
“Annie, are you all right?”
“No! I’m not. Not by a long shot,” she said, her voice clipped with anger. “Explain this to me. All of it. From the beginning. What makes you think someone is laundering money through my shop? Who and how?”
“I don’t know who, but I have a pretty good idea how,” he said.
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“Do you remember being audited a few months ago?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? It was worse than an enema.” She snorted. “I’ve only been in business for three years. I’m just getting a handle on things. What a nightmare.”
“Yes, well, the tax auditors found major discrepancies in your records.”
“But they said I was fine,” she protested.
“They lied,” he said. “The truth is your shop was discovered to have signs of serious laundering. The tax auditors informed the Bureau, and we began to investigate.”
“So you’re here to investigate me?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” She sat back in her chair. Her face was tight, pensive. Fisher couldn’t hazard a guess as to what she was thinking.
“No, I don’t think you do,” he said. “The reason that I’m telling you all of this, Annie, is because I need your help. I need access to your books and financial information.”
“Why?”
“Because significant amounts of cash are being laundered through The Coffee Break.”
“But...by who?”
“That’s what I want you to help me find out,” he said.
“Why should I?” she snapped.
The storm clouds finally rolled in and Fisher welcomed them. He’d rather deal with a furious Annie than a defeated one.
“You lied to me,” she said, her voice increasing in volume with her temper.
“I never lied,” he argued. “I just didn’t tell you everything.”
“Lies of omission,” she said, standing up. “It’s the same thing.”
“I was doing my job,” he argued, standing, too.
“Oh, sure. You kissed me! You...you...argh!” She jabbed him in the chest with a pointy finger. “I guess that’s all in a day’s work for an FBI guy.”
“Hey, you asked me to the wedding,” he reminded her. “And yes, it was a good opportunity to observe the people in your life. As for kissing you, that had nothing to do with the investigation.”
“Sure,” she said. “How do you know you can trust me? How do you know I’m not a criminal?”
“Honestly?” he asked and she nodded. “I don’t, but I’m willing to stake my career on it.”
They stood toe to toe, staring at one another like two boxers squared off in opposite corners.
He went for a jab. “Annie, I need you,” he said.
He watched her temper seep out of her like air out of a balloon. She looked bewildered and deflated. Fisher wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he resisted the urge. He had to give her time to adjust to the news he’d just dumped on her. Her entire world was upside down and he couldn’t take advantage of her distress just to make himself feel better.
“I’m sorry, Annie-girl,” he said.
“Thank you for that,” she said and sighed. “I just can’t believe it. Are you sure there’s no mistake?”
“I’m sure,” he said.
“I just don’t understand how or why,” she said. “I know I’m not the most savvy businesswoman, but how could this be happening without my knowing? And who could be doing it?”
“That’s what I need your help to find out,” he said. “We’ve gone over all of the bank records for your shop. Someone from the outside is manipulating your accounts. I need to know who exactly has access to your books.”
“Just about everyone,” she said. “I trust all of my employees. I never even lock the safe, except at night.”
“Well, things are going to have to change,” he said. “I’m going to spend more time in the shop, observing who comes and goes. While I’m doing that, you can give me a rundown on everyone.”
“Don’t you think someone will notice if you skulk around the shop all day?”
“Put me to work then,” he suggested. “We’ll say you’re shorthanded and I’m helping out.”
“I don’t like the idea of you spying on my customers and employees,” she said.
“Can you think of a better idea?”
“No.” She heaved a disgusted sigh.
“Just think, you get to boss me around all day,” he said.
“You’re right. I will enjoy that.” Her smile almost met her eyes.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll report for work in the morning.”