A Whisper in the Dark (16 page)

“Move in?” she repeated stupidly.

“In light of the attack on you and the murder last night, Mitch and I both think it’s a good idea.”

Julia didn’t agree. Not that she didn’t feel safer with John around. She did. But after seeing the shape he was in this morning—and taking into consideration the way she was reacting to him—she didn’t think his moving in was a good idea at all.

“You won’t be comfortable there,” she blurted.

“My apartment’s not much bigger. The cot is fine. I can use the little half bath off the hall.”

“There’s no shower.”

“I’ll have to use yours.”

The image of him naked and soaping his sculpted male body rendered her speechless. An author of erotica, Julia was no prude. But it didn’t keep the heat from creeping into her cheeks. A naked John Merrick using her shower was not a thought she wanted to have at the moment.

“Don’t you think Mitch is overreacting?” she asked.

“Mitch doesn’t overreact.” He tilted his head and frowned at her. “Neither do I.”

The intellectual side of her brain knew his moving in temporarily was a good idea. But another side of her that wasn’t quite so logical was beginning to feel hemmed in. It was a feeling she’d been dealing with since childhood. A feeling brought on by an overbearing father whose love could be oppressive. As an adult, Julia had learned to deal with her father; she loved and respected Benjamin Wainwright. But having seen the crumble of her parents’ not-so-perfect marriage, she guarded her independence with a fierceness not many people understood.

Not that she would ever consider a relationship with John. He hadn’t talked about it, but she knew he was in a very dark place right now. She could see the pain etched into his every feature. While she was willing to be a friend, that was where she drew the line.

“How long?” she asked after a moment.

“At the very least until NOPD can rule out the possibility that the murder last night is related to the attack on you.” He lifted a shoulder, let it drop. “Preferably until your stalker is found and stopped.”

“Do you think the police will find him?”

“Sooner or later he’ll screw up. Or the police will get lucky.” His eyes met hers. “In the interim, I think this is the best way to keep you safe.”

She sighed, hating the thought of how this would affect her life. Julia came and went as she pleased. She saw whom she pleased, when she pleased. She loved socializing, but she also valued her privacy. Unfortunately, she didn’t see a way out of this.

“I’ll do my best to make the storage room comfortable for you. In fact, I’ve got an old recliner upstairs that I’m not using. And there’s an antique floor lamp I can bring down.”

“Don’t go to any trouble.”

“I’ll see if I can get Jacob to help me with them.” She started toward the cash register counter, where Jacob had just rung up a sale.

“Hey you,” she said, walking up behind him.

“You’re not going to believe this.” The thin young man turned to her and smiled. “I just sold the autographed copy of
In Cold Blood
. Capote signed it in 1963.”

Julia glanced at the amount on the cash register and grinned. “Holy cow. Nice job.”

“He’s a collector from Baton Rouge.”

“Did you get his card?”

He passed her a business card. “Of course.”

She dropped the card into her pocket, making a mental note to enter the information into the customer database she had on her laptop upstairs. “I was wondering if you would help John move a couple of pieces of furniture to the storage room from my apartment.”

Jacob looked past her at John, his smile dwindling. “Why are you moving furniture from your apartment into the storage room?”

“Because until this stalker is caught, John is going to be staying there.”

“Does that mean we get to watch him stagger around half-naked every morning?”

Julia had always liked Jacob, but he had a difficult streak that ran a mile deep. She could see it in his eyes now. And even though they were friends, she was glad she’d never let him forget that this was a business and she was his boss.

“That means,” John cut in, “that you need to get your skinny ass moving and give me a hand.”

Folding his arms at his chest, Jacob rolled his eyes. “Oh brother.”

“None of us are happy about this stalker situation,” Julia said as she brushed past them and started toward the stairs at the back of the shop, “but I would appreciate it very much if you two didn’t act like a couple of surly teenagers.”

Julia heard the two men behind her as she ascended the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door and flipped on the light. She caught a hint of vanilla and the aroma of this morning’s hazelnut coffee and smiled. Crossing to her bedroom, she opened the door and motioned inside. “You can start with the recliner there in the corner.”

John stepped into her bedroom. Not for the first time Julia was aware of his size. He was at least six three and seemed to tower over her five-feet-four-inch frame.

“You sure you can get by without it?” he asked. “I don’t need it.”

“I rarely use the recliner or the lamp. And I think they’ll make your stay in the storage room a lot more comfortable.”

He crossed to the recliner, set his hands on the back and frowned at Jacob. “Sometime today, Ace.”

Giving Julia a withering look, Jacob crossed to the chair and the two men lifted it and wrestled it through the door.

Julia chose a small table from her bedroom and a lamp from her office. She pulled a second blanket from the linen closet in the hall. She knew the storage room was poorly insulated and could get cold at night. She could hear the men arguing in the stairway and sighed. It was definitely going to be an interesting week.

She’d just finished emptying the single drawer in the table when she heard someone behind her and spun. John stood in the doorway, watching her with interest.

“You startled me,” she said.

“Probably good for you to be jumpy.”

She motioned toward the table and lamp. “You can take these, too.”

He didn’t even look at the table. “How long have you known Jacob?”

“Since college.” Realizing where he was going with that, she shook her head. “He’s not the stalker, John.”

“I’m sure you know friends and family are always the first suspects, don’t you?”

“Even so, Jacob is no stalker. For God’s sake, I see him here every day. He’s funny and kind—”

“He works here part-time?”

“Yes.”

“Is this his only job?”

“He is also working on a book.”

“What kind of book?”

“A thriller, I think.”

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“He doesn’t talk about it.”

John seemed to mull that over for a moment. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Uh . . . not exactly.”

His eyes sharpened on hers. “What does that mean?

“That means his significant other is . . . not female.”

He looked surprised for an instant, but quickly covered it with a frown. “Okay.”

“Jacob is a great guy, John. Be nice to him, okay?”

Bending slightly, he picked up the small table and lamp. “Nice isn’t part of my persona.”

“It would be if you let it.”

Giving her a dry smile, he carried the lamp and table out the door and went down the stairs.

THIRTEEN

A steady stream of customers kept Julia busy the rest of
the day. Once he had moved the table and lamp to the storage room, John had asked to use her shower. Julia had given him the key and tried not to think about it. She worked the cash register and chatted with Claudia and Jacob and several customers that had come to New Orleans all the way from London. But the whole while she was keenly aware of the pipes clanging, and she couldn’t keep her mind from conjuring images of John with water sluicing over taut male skin . . .

At noon, Claudia left for class at Tulane. Jacob manned the cash register while Julia stocked a box of old books she’d ordered online. She’d just slid an Agatha Christie first edition on the shelf when Jacob’s voice right behind her made her start.

“So what’s the story on Macho Man?” he asked.

Casting him a frown, she slid another book onto the shelf. “You mean John?”

“Yeah. John. The whole time we were moving furniture, he treated me like some kind of criminal, asking me all sorts of questions. For God’s sake, Julia, he thinks I’m the stalker.”

“He’s just covering his bases.”

“Or maybe he’s a homophobe.”

Julia bit her lip. “He didn’t know you were gay until a while ago when I told him.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Great. Now he’s probably going to want to beat me up.”

“Come on. He’s not like that. He’s tough on everyone, Jacob. Even himself.”

“Well, knowing he’s an equal opportunity jerk makes it all better.” Shaking his head, he usurped her latte and sipped. “What, is he going through a divorce or what?”

Julia had assumed Jacob knew about the shooting by now. She stopped shelving books. “A few months ago he was a detective with the Chicago PD. I don’t know the details, but during a bust there was some confusion and he accidentally shot and killed a fellow officer.”

Jacob looked appropriately solemn for a moment. “That’s heavy stuff.”

“So cut him some slack, will you?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.” Smiling, she reached for her latte and sipped. “And leave my coffee alone, too.”

 
John spent the first part of the afternoon at the hardware
store picking up new bolt locks for Julia’s shop, and the second half of the afternoon installing them. He spent twenty minutes on the phone with a local security company, negotiating prices and trying to get the new security system installed sooner than next week. In the end he settled for five business days.

More than once during the day he found himself watching Julia. She was charming and funny with her customers, many of whom were eccentric. But she could be serious and knowledgeable when the situation called for it. He kept an eye on Jacob. The guy seemed normal. But John knew all too well that behind even the most benign of faces a monster could lurk. He knew most stalking victims knew their stalkers. Did Julia know hers? Was her stalker the same man who’d murdered the young woman in the cemetery?

At five o’clock, business began to wind down. Jacob sat on the stool at the cash register, reading a book. Julia sat at her desk, calculating the day’s receipts. John knew better than to stare, but he’d been telling himself that all day, and yet here he was, unable to take his eyes off her.

The black turtleneck she wore swept over her slender frame like velvet skin, revealing subtle curves that made his hands itch to touch. Her slacks were just snug enough to let him know she had one of the nicest asses he’d ever laid eyes on.

He wanted to blame his lack of willpower on the hangover—or maybe the need to protect that rose inside him every time he saw the bruises—but deep inside he knew his watching her had more to do with good old-fashioned sexual attraction.

Of course, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He hadn’t so much as thought about women since that terrible night in Chicago. His head was too fucked up to consider anything more complicated than getting out of bed in the morning and putting on his shoes. That wasn’t to say sex wouldn’t be a nice distraction. It definitely would, especially with Julia. But he knew she was not the kind of woman to partake in a one-night stand. Anything more and John was simply not interested.

He’d just finished with the lock on the alley window when the bell on the door jingled. He looked up to see a tall, well-dressed man with sandy blond hair enter the shop. He wore a long London Fog raincoat. Expensive wingtips. A lawyer or banker type, John thought.

The man looked around, spotted Julia at her desk, and a grin the size of Lake Pontchartrain split his face. “You’re never going to believe what I have in my hand,” he said, crossing to her desk.

Curious, John stopped what he was doing and straightened. He didn’t know who the man was. Didn’t know what he wanted or why he was staring at Julia as if she were some coveted prize. But he was damn well going to be ready if Mr. Investment Banker got out of line.

Looking surprised by the man’s presence, Julia rose. “Hi.”

The man leaned close and kissed her cheek, his hands settling comfortably on her shoulders. “How are you?” he asked.

“Fine.” She leaned into him and pecked air. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until the weekend.”

John knew it was stupid, but he was inordinately pleased that she had pecked air instead of skin. He wanted to describe the feeling jabbing his gut as suspicion, but he was honest enough with himself to realize he didn’t like the familiar way the other man was touching her.

“This wouldn’t wait,” he said excitedly.

The man didn’t acknowledge John or Jacob. It was as if he didn’t even realize there were two other people in the room. One hundred and twenty percent of his attention was focused on Julia.

“What?” she asked.

He pulled a small envelope from the pocket of his Armani jacket and waved it like a flag. “I’ve got two tickets for
Phantom of the Opera.
Box seats at the Saenger Theatre.”

She blinked, and then her surprise turned to pleasure. “How did you manage that? The show has been sold out for weeks.”

“One of my clients gave them to me. He and his wife are going out of town.” He slapped her playfully on the shoulder with the tickets. “Will you go?”

“Are you kidding? When?”

“Tonight.”

John glanced at Jacob, who, he noted, was watching the man with a little too much interest. Jealousy? he wondered. Or something else?

“Please?” the man said.

“Oh, Julia, you should!” Jacob brought his hands together. “I’ve heard it’s a fabulous show!”