Project Produce(10)
“Ahhh, so you haven’t heard of the Midnight Molester, then.”
I felt my eyes go round, and my lips part. “Midnight Molester? I suspected Flasher Freak was a little perverted, but come on. How dangerous can he be?”
Dylan barked out a laugh. “Sorry, can’t help it. Flasher Freak?”
I shrugged.
He didn’t bother to fight his grin anymore. He looked like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, but he must have realized he wasn’t supposed to be having fun, because the grin vanished. “The Midnight Molester may be small, but he’s still a man. A man with a very sick and twisted mind who preys on young women around midnight.”
“Young women at midnight, huh? Guess he wanted more than a little pocket pool.”
“Pocket pool?” The Detective lost the battle once again, laughing harder this time, then he ran his hand over his mouth. “I haven’t heard that expression in a while, but yeah, you could say that.”
“Wow.” I took a shaky breath, feeling slightly less calm, cool and collected.
That killed his smile in an instant. “The last thing I want to do is scare you, but you need to know the situation is serious. You’re one lucky lady, Ms. MacDonald. You must have really surprised him to have manipulated him out the door so easily. You don’t want to know what that sicko did to his other victims.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
His brow puckered. “You really shouldn’t work here anymore, ma’am. Let me call your boss, and I’ll give you a ride home.” He slipped on his gloves and grabbed the bag, then stood and took me by the elbow to draw me to my unsteady feet.
“What are you talking about? I have to cover this shift until morning.” I looked up at him, feeling dazed.
“Let your boss worry about that. It’s too dangerous for someone like you.”
“Whoa there, chief, back up. What’s wrong with me?”
“Look. You’re an irresistible invitation to all the scum of this city. They’re just waiting to take advantage of someone like you. Find a better job on a safer street.” He steered me all the way to the door.
I came out of my stupor. “Listen, Detective Cabrizzi, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself and anything this city has to throw at me.”
“You may think you can, but the chances of you getting lucky again are slim to none.” He gave me a no-nonsense look and then opened the door.
I dug in my heels, not an easy thing to do with rubber-soled Snow Flurry boots. “My coat. I’ll be cold.”
He glanced over his shoulder and stared at my neck and chest. His eyes dropped lower, and his breathing grew faster. Oh, yeah, men are all the same. But didn’t my nipples harden in response? Darn traitors.
“May I get my coat, Detective?”
He looked up, and I quirked a brow then stared him down with steel in my eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’ll just wait out here, but make it quick, Ms. MacDonald. I’ve had a hell of a day.”
He’d had a bad day? Bet he didn’t have Trench coat wearing weirdos flashing their pickles at him. When he turned around and told Peterson he could take off, I closed the door.
Click!
I saw Dylan stiffen before he swiveled around with clenched jaw. Too late, pal. I waved to him from the other side of the locked door, plastering a brilliant smile across my face. No way would I let any man tell me what to do, ever again.
“C’mon, Ms. MacDonald. Open up, and I’ll drive you home. It isn’t safe here.”
“Not a chance, Detective. Last time I checked, I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”
“You’re serious? You’re going to stay after everything that’s happened?”
“Look, Flasher Freak’s long gone, and I need the hours. I told you, I’m not quitting.”
“Fine, have it your way, ma’am.” He glared. “But I’m not about to leave you here alone.”
“Suit yourself.”
He strolled around his car and climbed inside, appearing to settle in for the night, looking anything but pleased. It wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t asked him to stay, but I had to admit it felt kind of nice having my zucchini watch over me, even if he was only doing his job. At least I could pretend that someone cared.
It made me feel like I wasn’t alone for a change.
***
“Shut up,” I mumbled, slapping the horrendous screeching torture device beside me the next evening. The incessant buzzing ceased, and the alarm clock fell off the end table by my lumpy, pullout bed.
I shouldn’t be complaining. Gloria barely knew me, yet she’d offered to let me stay with her. Queens was a heck of a lot cheaper than the city, yet close by, and I’d heard it had charm. Too late, I’d discovered that Gloria didn’t live anywhere near the charm. She lived in a section of town even the roaches avoided, and the loud, rumbling subway ran all night long. Sleep deprivation was not a fun experience.