"Not a problem. And I wouldn't tell Mama about your new living quarters." Rafe flicked the TV on and flopped back on the sofa. "You kids have fun."

Marco grumbled all the way to my apartment, until I woke up enough to grumble back, "If you don't want Rafe working at Hooters, just say so. He should know how you feel."

"I can't rain on his parade."

"Is his parade made of sugar? You're supposed to be his mentor."

"He needs my approval right now. I have to be supportive."

Marco called it supportive, but I called it being dishonest. If I hadn't been so spent, I would have told him so.

When we pulled into my parking s.p.a.ce at the apartment building, Marco scanned the area before he let me get out of the car. Then, keeping a sharp eye on our surroundings, he hustled me into the building. Once inside the two-bedroom apartment, we were greeted by our furry white beast, who came galloping up the hallway, excited to have playmates.

"Are you going to keep me company tonight, Simon?" Marco asked, crouching to scratch the cat behind his ears. Marco was the only male Simon trusted. The furball had disdained my former fiance, Pryce, which he demonstrated by puking on Pryce's loafers. It wasn't the main reason Pryce broke our engagement, but it probably came in a close second.

"Simon isn't allowed into my bedroom anymore," I said. "He snores."

"I thought I'd camp out on the sofa tonight," Marco said, reeling me in for a kiss. "It's a better defensive position if someone breaks in."

"I've got some great defensive positions myself," I murmured between kisses.

He tilted my head up. "I thought you were exhausted."

"I am. So maybe you can sing me a lullaby before you hit the sofa?"

The corners of Marco's mouth curved up in that s.e.xy way of his. "I might be a little off-key."

"No, Salvare, you always. .h.i.t the right notes. Let's get you set up out here first."

While I pulled an extra sheet set, pillow, and blanket out of my closet and made up his bed, Marco unpacked his shaving kit and toothbrush, and set his bag at the end of the sofa.

"Do you want to put your duffel bag in my room?" I asked.

"Nope. It's fine there."

Well . . . it wasn't fine there. It protruded into the hallway, which anyone could plainly see. But I let it go. Marco was there to protect me. If he wanted his duffel bag close by, then that was where it should be.

We tiptoed past Nikki's door and quietly closed my bedroom door so she wouldn't hear us . . . singing. We made beautiful music, after which I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

I woke up the next morning to Nikki screaming.

CHAPTER NINE.

My first thought was that someone had broken into the apartment, overpowered Marco, and entered Nikki's room by mistake. I threw back the covers, grabbed my hand mirror from my dresser to use as a weapon-Seriously, take a look at yourself, felon! Do you like what you see?-and flew into the hallway, nearly colliding with Nikki, who was standing in front of the closed bathroom door, trembling all over.

"Why didn't you warn me Marco was here?" she shrieked loud enough to make my ears ring. "I thought he was an intruder!"

"I'm sorry, Nik," I said, following her up the hallway. She had on her purple robe and furry purple slippers and was shaking her hands as though trying to fling water off them. She tripped over Marco's duffel bag and landed on her hands and knees.

"We came in really late last night," I said, helping her up, "and I forgot to leave a note. Besides, you're not usually up this early."

"Well, I am today-thank you very much for the near heart attack. I have an eye doctor's appointment in an hour. Does that bag have to be in the middle of the hallway?"

I pushed Marco's belongings to one side with my bare foot. "I'm really, really sorry."

Note to self: Duffel bag is going into the hall closet. My apartment; my rules.

Still griping, Nikki stormed through the living room with me right behind. She wasn't normally a grouch in the morning; then again, she rarely rose before ten. She worked afternoon shifts as an X-ray tech at the county hospital and usually didn't get home until close to midnight.

The bedsheets, I noted, had been folded and stacked at one end of the sofa.

Nikki opened the front door and picked up the newspaper, then unfolded it and headed into the kitchen. She stopped with a gasp. "Tara was kidnapped? From the concert?"

She held up the newspaper, whose big bold headline screamed the news: ONE DEAD IN TEEN KIDNAPPING.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed the paper from her, scanning the article for information. Included in the piece was a photo of a female with short auburn hair, with a caption underneath that identified her as Charlotte H. Bebe. If that was the blond kidnapper, Tara had been right about the wig.

Nikki grabbed the paper from me. "Would you tell me what happened?"

I really wanted to read the article, but Nikki's exasperated expression changed my mind. "If you'll make coffee, I'll give you the entire story."

"Deal."

While Nikki measured out the grounds and filled the coffee machine with water, I gave her the rundown, slipping over to the fridge for the coffee creamer. Then, over cups of freshly brewed java, I read the newspaper article, giving Nikki the main points.

"It says the dead woman has been positively identified as Charlotte H. Bebe, thirty years old, and police are searching for her boyfriend, Dwayne Hudge, who is being called a person of interest."

Marco came in, freshly showered and shaved. "Sorry, Nikki. Didn't mean to scare you."

"No harm done," she said pleasantly. "Want some coffee?"

What? No harm done? Could have fooled me.

Marco took a cup from the cabinet and held it out. "Thanks."

"How about some toast to go with it?" I asked.

"Got any oatmeal?" he asked.

"Sorry," I said. "We're all out. We have toast."

"Cream of wheat?"

I shook my head. "Toast."

"Farina?"

What was it with Marco and mushy breakfast food? "Until one of us can get to the grocery store, all we have is toast."

"No eggs?"

"I think I saw a packet of oatmeal in the back of the cabinet," Nikki said, and began digging through a shelf filled with risotto, macaroni and cheese, instant rice, and canned soup.

"Toast is fine," Marco said.

Nikki stopped rooting and glanced at me, rolling her eyes.

"How will this bodyguard duty work?" Nikki asked him, as I dropped two slices of whole wheat bread into the toaster.

"Are you two going to hang out here until the other kidnapper is caught?"

"I can't do that," I said. "I have a business to run."

"We'll handle it like we have the past few days," Marco said. "I'll take Abby to Bloomers and pick her up after work. If she has any errands to run, Lottie or Grace can do them, or I'll take her. We just have to make sure she's never there alone."

Never? I thought about that as I watched the bread to keep it from burning. While I deeply appreciated the measures Marco was taking to keep me safe, I knew I'd miss having time to myself. It was when I did my best work. In fact, I got a bit testy without it.

Marco picked up his cup, took the toast I offered him, and headed for the living room.

"What a great guy," Nikki said.

"He's my hero."

Hearing the TV, I called, "Hey, Marco, I usually listen to the Today show while I'm getting ready for work."

"Hmm," he said. Then I heard a sports talk channel come on.

"Well," Nikki said, "won't this be fun?"

CHAPTER TEN.

Sweat beaded on the large man's forehead as he ducked his head to climb into the rear seat of the black limousine. The other man waited there, eyes hidden behind mirrored shades, facial expression as inscrutable as marble. The gla.s.s part.i.tion had been raised so the driver couldn't hear them.

"First of all, let me say how sorry I am," the large man said as the limo pulled away.

"You failed. There is nothing more to be said about it."

"But I can explain."

"I don't want an explanation. It's enough that I must now step in, which is exactly what I wanted to avoid."

"But see, you don't need to step in. I know how to fix things."

"Now? It took you how many tries to figure it out?"

"What I mean is, I understand that I should've taken care of the problem myself. It's just that I didn't want to risk having her see me. She knows my face."

"So, instead, you hired stupid people to do the job for you? Did I not make it clear that time is of the essence? Did I not stress that finesse would be required?"

"It isn't easy to find someone who-"

"Shut up. I'm tired of your excuses. Now we have one dead and another who could lead the police to me through you. I must think what to do about that."

"Okay, look, forget about my cut of the action. Just let me fix this."

The other man slammed his fist against the door. "I said shut up!"

The big man eased a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his brow as he glanced out the side window. Was it his illness or his nerves causing him to sweat so?

He noticed the driver had turned the car into a wooded area just beyond the city limits. As they drove deeper into the forest, he wondered if he'd make it out alive. He eyed the door handle, gauging his chances of making an escape.

The car pulled to a stop before he could act. The driver got out and came around to open his door. The big man glanced fearfully at his seatmate. "What's going on?"

"Get out."

"Okay. Sure." He'd be glad to hoof it home, no matter the frigid temps outside.

He stepped from the car and turned to see the driver bring a crowbar down on his skull. His last thought was that he should have known better than to trust an ex-con.

As Marco drove me to Bloomers that morning, I called my brother's house to see how Tara was faring.

"She didn't sleep well," Kathy told me. "She kept having nightmares, some about you. Tara's really afraid for you, Abby."

"a.s.sure her I've got an around-the-clock bodyguard. Does Tara know about the blonde's death?"

"Not yet. I haven't had the heart to tell her. That's on tap for later this morning. I don't want her to hear the news from her friends. She's showering now or I'd put her on."

"I just wanted to see how she was doing. I'm so sorry for what I put all of you through."

"I know you are," Kathy said. "We'll be fine. You just take care of yourself."

I put away the phone and blew my nose.

"Everything okay?" Marco asked as he pulled up in front of Bloomers to let me out.

I blinked a few times to clear away the tears. "It will be. I've got a strong family."