He smiled. “Glad I’ve been let in on the secret ritual.”
“Lucky me.”
She swam away from him then and toward the ladder at the side of the pool. He swam after her and she was acutely aware of him watching her get herself out of the pool, water cascading from her body.
She grabbed a towel while he hauled himself out of the water, too. As she headed toward the locker room, he called after her, “Meet you outside in twenty minutes.”
She shot him a baleful look over her shoulder. He was shadowing her in the most literal way possible and it was all extremely disturbing.
An hour later, Connor parked in front of the townhouse and followed Allison to her front door. The black metal mailbox nailed to the brick face of the house was half open and visibly stuffed with catalogs and other mail.
He stepped around her before she could react and pulled out the mail in one swift move.
“Last time I checked,” she said, her tone annoyed, “it was a federal offense to interfere with the operation of the mail service.”
He smiled and watched her irritation grow. “Then consider it checking and not interfering.”
She made a grab for the mail, but he moved his arm up and away from her. “Aren’t you going to unlock the door?” he asked placidly.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Just add it to my tab. I seem to be running a long one with you.”
She gave him a haughty look. “That’s funny, because I recall stopping your credit line a long time ago.”
“Open the door.” He nodded at the lock, then looked around. It was broad daylight, not even noon, but he didn’t like standing out here with her. They made an easy target. She hadn’t gotten any threats since he’d moved in with her, but he knew better than to let his guard down.
After she unlocked the door, he disengaged the alarm system by pressing a few buttons on the box near the door. Then he took a moment to glance through her mail.
The lingerie catalog gave him a moment’s pause as he wondered whether she actually wore stuff similar to the skimpy satin bra and undies on the cover.
Tossing the catalog aside, he stopped at a legal-sized white envelope with no return address. He turned it over and, noticing nothing on the back, slid his finger under the flap to tear it open.
“That’s my mail!” Allison stormed back over to him from the table where she’d just set down her gym bag. “And don’t tell me that you open your clients’ mail, too!”
He blocked her attempt to grab the envelope. “In fact, sometimes I do. When the job calls for it.”
He slid the contents from the envelope and his blood ran cold. Allison gasped beside him.
There were three photographs of Allison going about her business. The photos were somewhat grainy, computer-generated reproductions taken from a distance, but nevertheless the subject was unmistakable.
Angling himself away from her, he let his eyes scan the contents of the plain white sheet of paper that had fallen out with the photos. The three lines of typed text chilled him:
Just so you know Im watchin. I can take you out anytime. If you wanna live, quit your job and go vacation on daddy’s money.
Allison made a grab for the material in his hand, but he held up his arm. “What is it?” she demanded.
He debated for a second, but realized he’d have no peace until she found out, as much as he wanted to shield her. He wanted to kill the bastard who was threatening her. Tipping the contents of the envelope toward her, he said, “Take a look.”
He watched her face blanch and cursed under his breath. “Don’t touch anything. I’m calling the police and having them test all the contents of the envelope for fingerprints.”
She nodded, uncharacteristically silent.
“Do you recognize when the photos were taken?”
“Two or three weeks ago, I think.” She looked up at him and her expression conveyed thinly veiled distress. “That first shot was taken in front of the dry cleaners. My car is over on the far left, which is where I think I parked it when I couldn’t find a closer spot. It looks as if the photo was taken from the parking lot across the street.”
“Okay, and do you recognize the two others?”
“I think so. I’m wearing something different, but I think those were taken days apart.”
He nodded and carefully set down the offending images and sheet of paper. “Good. That’ll give the police a good lead about where to start asking questions to see if anyone remembers anything, though I doubt anyone will.”
She raked a hand through her hair, the glossy locks cascading around her face. “This is ridiculous. I’m used to having my photo taken from time to time, but it’s always been reporters flashing bulbs in my face at a press conference or at a charity ball.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Quite the popular little heiress prosecutor, aren’t we?”
“Kiss my millionaire fanny, Rafferty.”
He laughed, but he privately admitted the joke was on him: he’d certainly given more than a passing thought to kissing her all over.
But, he was glad to see his comment had had its intended effect and there was some fire back in her eyes. That white-faced expression she’d been wearing was unlike her. And while he wanted her to appreciate the danger she could be in, he also didn’t want this crazy nut to cow her and mark her for life.
She frowned. “His English skills aren’t very good, are they?”
“Yeah, which does point to our man Taylor or, more precisely, one of his gang members who isn’t behind bars.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” She looked unconvinced. “Or it could just be someone trying to throw us off the scent and point the finger elsewhere.”
“What makes you think that?” He had his own theory in that regard, but he was interested in hearing hers.
She crossed her arms. “If one of Taylor’s pals wanted me dead, I’d probably already be gone—or, at least, they wouldn’t have bothered with a note.”
He nodded. She’d obviously learned a few things at the DA’s Office. He just wasn’t sure he liked her being acquainted with the seedier side of life. Sure, he’d often made fun of her diamond-studded-slipper upbringing, but he knew better than most just how bad the alternative could be.
“The person who is doing this obviously wants to scare me,” Allison mused, “but so far he’s hung back from doing more than threaten. So, again, we have a profile that might fit better with Kendall, who’s a white-collar criminal.”