Kim's Books
| Blurbs | Teaser Scenes |
|---|---|
| One Touch Beyond | One Touch Beyond |
| Enchanted Holidays | Enchanted Holidays |
| Suspicious Minds | Suspicious Minds |
One Touch Beyond
Paranormal Mystery Anthology
Ellora's Cave Blush Mainstream
ISBN #9781419914812 - electronic
Contributing Authors:
- Get Out Or Die By Kim Cox
- Restless Spirit By Elizabeth Delisi
- Believing In Dreams By Chris Grover
- Neath Hallowed Halls and Ivied Walls By Maureen McMahon
- Enigma By Sheryl Hames Torres
Some of the best and brightest names in the e-publishing field gathered together for your frightful fun! In this thrilling anthology, spooky hauntings, time-traveling spirits, and Satanic cults await! Then, there's a few recipes you can whip up in your kitchen for dessert!
Blurbs
Get Out Or Die By Kim Cox
Since the news of her first case, Lana Malloy's Private Investigating/Mediator business is booming. At one pro-bono job, Lana helps a widow communicate with her late husband and learns of a frightening new ability she wasn't aware she possessed-an ability that could give the spirit the upper hand if she's not careful. Lana struggles for control when she encounters the angry ghost who doesn't want to leave and who doesn't want the occupants of the house to stay. Will Lana be able to control the situation or will the ghost sense he can overtake her? Does she have other abilities she can rely on to save her?
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Restless Spirit By Elizabeth Delisi
Laura St. Clair lost her eight-year-old son to a rare disease, and lost her desire to live along with him. When she tries to contact the spirit of her son with a Ouija board, she reaches something...but what? Can the entity she gets in touch with help her talk to her son, and if so, what will it expect from her in return?
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Believing In Dreams By Chris Grover
Nicole James has always believed in dreams. So when she dreams about a house she's seen in an old photo and an elderly woman who seems to be expecting her, she has to check it out. Nicole knew her deceased mother was born in Quebec and that she had esp, but that was all she knew. Now, with her mom gone, Nicole is all alone, so when she discovers, St-Stephan des Pins, the name on the back of the photo is a small village in Quebec, she figures someone somewhere wants her to find her roots. She'd never really believed her mom's story about being all alone in the world with no brothers sisters or family of any kind, and this is the perfect opportunity for Nicole to find out.
Within a few hours of arriving in St-Stephan, Nicole finds out everything she ever wanted to know about her mother and her family. But on her way back to the hotel, she hears someone say: "Now that you know about Maxine, just be content with the knowledge and leave it alone. That's not why you're here." Nicole looks around for the speaker, but there's no one there--just a gray and white tabby cat sitting on the hood of a car.
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'Neath Hallowed Halls and Ivied Walls By Maureen McMahon
Stacey Christian and Peter Mansfield come together again to attend the funeral of their beloved Harvard history professor, Bertram Donelson. Stacey's emotional stint as a reporter in Afghanistan, and Peter's exhausting high-profile business takeover, make them even more vulnerable to the chemistry that's always been between them.
Little do they know their old Alma Mater holds an evil and deadly secret that will propel them into a whirlwind of ghostly, shocking and even deadly experiences. Will this adventure be enough to finally bring their love to fruition?
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Enigma By Sheryl Hames Torres
When Brace Adams, Detective in the Macon, Georgia PD, stumbles upon blood-covered Amy Cassidy, he is convinced she is as much a victim as the dead man she's kneeling beside. Though he discovers she's "awakened" beside the mutilated body four other times, not knowing the victim, what happened or how she got there, it's not the lack of forensic evidence that convinces Brace of her innocence, but simple logic. Little blind girls don't qualify as your typical garden variety serial killers. When inexplicable and dangerous things start happening, it's Brace's job to not only prove that Amy's not causing them, but protect her as well. Can he solve the puzzle before becoming the next victim.
Get Out or Die!
Lana walked Dan out, glass from figurines, picture frames and a mirror splintered beneath their feet. "Look. I know you don't want to leave, but please, take Ellie somewhere else just for tonight. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what's going on. I hope by then I can reason with him."
"It really is Uncle Adam, isn't it?" Dan asked.
"Yes, it is."
"This means that my father did . . . my father is . . . "
"There's still no real proof."
"Why else would--"
"I don't know. Give me twenty-four hours to find out. I'm want to sleep here tonight, try to calm Adam down, and see if he'll talk to me. Hopefully by tomorrow, regardless of what happened between him and Sean, he'll realize you're not his father."
Dan's sullen face appeared doubtful. "Do whatever you have to do."
Behind them, the sounds of crashing continued. Lana smoothed her wrinkled clothes, patted down her hair and trekked back into the once beautiful home, trying to force a calm she didn't quite feel.
You can do this. The crashing stopped as she entered the chaotic room. "Adam!" she called out. "Let's talk." Only silence answered her plea. Was he ignoring her? Or was the energy his angered fueled within his spirit faded? Run out?
Lana took a break and used the downstairs bathroom to splash water on her face. As she brushed her hair, the faucets turned on by themselves. Hot water splashed into the sink, steam filling the room. Lana turned off the water and opened the door to let out the fog. Then, she read Adam's large script, GET OUT OR DIE!
Enchanted Holidays
Romantic Paranormal Mystery Anthology
Ellora's Cave Blush Mainstream Romance
Print: ISBN #1-4199-0807-3 - Electronic: ISBN: 9781419956744
Contributing Authors:
- Haunted Hearts By Kim Cox
- Misletoe Medium By Elizabeth Delisi
- Valentine's Inn By Chris Grover
- Curse of Osiris By Elaine Hopper
- Ghosts of Auld Lang Syne By Maureen McMahon
- Fate's Little Trick By Sheryl Hames Torres
Combined Anthology Blurb
In Fate's Little Trick, can Gemma McKenzie Fuller learn from a troubled child that you can go back again, or will she have to suffer yet another Christmastime loss? Can psychic Lottie Baldwin, the Mistletoe Medium, and the handsome new man in her life pool their talents and solve the mystery before the bandit strikes again?
Will Lana Malloy solve the twenty-year-old double murder of her great aunt and her great aunt's fiance by Valentine's Day? If she can, they'll spend eternity together; if she can't, they'll be stuck as Haunted Hearts for another year. When a stranger and a stray cat appear at Valentine's Inn one cold February morning, will Rianna Gordon realize it's the past that holds the key to her happiness?
Is the The Curse of Osiris just a legend? Four years after breaking her heart, Zane Ryan is back and determined to protect Alexis Hart from the 3,000 year old mummy who has designs on her and the future of all mankind. In Ghosts of Auld Lang Syne, Stacey Christian and Peter Mansfield reunite to celebrate New Year with friends at a remote New England homestead. Are the incidents that befall the guests only accidents, and why does the specter of a young woman walk the halls?
Romance, mystery, danger and paranormal encounters...authors Kim Cox, Elizabeth Delisi, Chris Grover, Elaine Hopper, Maureen McMahon, and Sheryl Hames Torres provide them all in this intriguing collection of holiday magic.
Haunted Hearts
Chapter One
"How do you like it?" Lucy Ann Malloy, standing at the top of the stairs, turned to the right, then to the left as she modeled the blue and green pastel dress. "I found it in the attic with some of my old things." She lingered in the doorway on the main floor. "Well?"
Lana Malloy glanced up from editing the ad for her new PI business. "Nice," she said and returned to her work.
Lucy moved to Lana's side and gazed over her shoulder. "What are you working on?"
"The ad for the newspaper and magazines. I've got to figure out how to attract some business, or I'll never make it through the first month."
A chill filled the air surrounding Lana and she shivered, pulling her sweater tightly around her.
"I have an idea, actually a pretty good one. I know who your first client can be."
Without even glancing away from her paper, Lana asked, "And who would that be?"
"Me."
"You?" Lana looked up, her interest piqued. "What are you talking about?"
Lucy's white hair shone with blue highlights as if she'd just had it rinsed Well preserved from someone who had been dead twenty years. "Find my murderer so I can rest in peace. How about it?" Lana's great aunt had been with her since she moved into the old beach house in Charleston, South Carolina five years ago.
"And who would be paying for my services?" Lana smiled, pulling her reading glasses off and laying them on her desk. She loved her great aunt, but she could be a card. Lucy had always been a rebel, always tried to be different from everyone else. "Besides, you died over twenty years ago. That's a cold trail for sure."
"I got money, smarty--a lot of money that no one has found yet." Lucy covered her mouth with both hands and then removed them. "Oh, well, the cat's out of the bag now. I can't spend it, anyway."
"But you died--"
"Let me finish. Shows how much you, or any of those pigs know." She glided back and forth across the room as if she were dancing at her coming-out ball.
"Well?"
"Get out your pen and pad and take notes."
"Not until I'm sure what you're telling me is the truth." Lucy sometimes changed details to suit herself and the moment, but she'd never talked about her death before. Lana never questioned her because she thought it may be too painful for her aunt.
"Have I ever lied? Never mind, don't answer that." Lucy laughed as she stopped in mid-air, lowered herself down to the desk and hovered in a sitting position just above the surface. Then she crossed her legs. "It was Valentine's Day. The last thing I remember, I was helping Davide eat his dinner. He had been sick the last few days, and I went over to visit. He didn't eat much of his potato soup, and I love potato soup on a cold winter's night. You know, that kind your mother used to whip up?" Lucy licked her lips. "I miss that since I've been dead. There's no need to eat anymore . . . no appetite."
"Get on with your murder case."
"Oh, yeah. I tend to get sidetracked now and then." She giggled. "Anyway, I never left that room until I woke up in this house dead and looked down on my body lying on the living room floor, right in front of my sofa. The next morning, your mother came to see me and found me . . . I mean, my body. That's it."
"Right. You were poisoned, but your murderer was never caught," Lana mused.
"You call yourself a private investigator? Elementary, my dear Lana. Use some logic. How did I get from Davide"s house to my house?"
Lana chewed the eraser on the end of her pencil. "So, you believe you were poisoned at Davide's, but someone brought you back here either before you or after you died?"
"By golly, I believe she's got it."
"Are you sure you didn't just forget going home?"
"I didn't forget. I was only sixty, and not senile. Someone must've moved me while I was unconscious. Can't you see that?"
Lana stood and paced the room. "It's a possibility, I guess. What did the police say?"
"They said, 'the old broad croaked. No suspects.' And they looked no further." Lucy moved up behind Lana. "Clue number two: I've been reading up on my ghostly position as well. Did you know there are specific reasons why ghosts haunt places?"
"No. What are they?"
"According to this, my reason is . . ." Lucy took out the book, opened it to the bookmark and started to read, "'When someone is murdered and the murder goes unsolved, their spirit must wait around until the mystery is solved, usually around the anniversary of their death.'"
"Where did you get that book?"
"Here, in this house."
Lana sauntered into the library and fingered through the books on the shelves. "I didn't know we had all these books on ghosts." Lana smiled until she saw the look on Lucy's face. She was serious about this, and Lana felt bad that she hadn't realized it sooner. She loved the woman dearly, but often, Lucy kidded around so much that it was hard to tell when the woman was genuine.
"I found them in the attic, dusted them off and put them on the shelf last night. They belonged to your grandfather. He was into that kind of stuff. You believe me now?"
"I don't know. I'll read over these today and see." Lana brought a book back to her desk as Lucy followed. "What exactly did you figure out? And if you've solved it, why do you need me?"
"Not everything. Just what I need to do to get to my resting place. I was killed on Valentine's Day, 1982."
"So?"
"I need to find my murderer by Valentine's Day, or I'll be stuck here until next year, same time."
"Why?"
"Because that's when I died." Lucy placed her hands on her hips. "Haven't you been listening? Anyway, the book says it's the only time I will have the opportunity to claim my eternity. It's on page fifty-two."
"Do you have any suspects?" Lana flipped through the pages. "This looks interesting."
"That old buzzard I was trying to help."
"Davide? Your fiance?" Lana glanced up.
"That's the buzzard."
"You two were going to be married in a few weeks. Why would he want you dead?"
"That, I don't know. But I think he's as good a place to start our search as any. If it wasn't him, it was someone in his family. They were against us marrying. Especially his son, Anthony."
"Our search? But you can't--"
"But I can. I read about it in that book. I can leave anytime I want. I just haven't wanted to bad enough until now. Plus, I need to attach myself to something in order to leave. That something, or rather someone, is you."
A few hours later, Lana looked from her book as Lucy drifted in with a tray of food--a tuna fish sandwich with pickles and chips.
"I thought you could use something to eat. Seafood is brain food, you know."
When Lucy floated back across the room, Lana glanced toward the window and glimpsed a terrified face in the window. It was her neighbor, Roxie Thomas, with curlers in her strawberry blonde hair and cold cream still covering her horrified face. When the dress glided toward a filing cabinet and one of the drawers opened all by itself, Roxie"s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. The closed window muffled her screams.
Chapter Two
"Get back! Roxie saw you. I mean, she saw your dress. I'll see if I can talk to her." But as Lana reached the door, Roxie ran away, her screeches fading as she widened the space between their houses.
"Fix this situation before I bring her back." Lana slammed the door behind her.
Lana's house sat on stilts, but the one room joining the carport sufficed as her new PI office. Trotting across the yard, she caught up with Roxie on the other side of the hedge. "Roxie, wait up." Roxie dashed for her house anyway.
"Stay away from me, you . . . you . . . you witch! I'm calling the cops." She stumbled up the steps sideways and sank slowly to her knees on her front porch."
"Don't be ridiculous! It's not what you think. Please, come back and see. Besides, how will you explain to the police that you were peeping in my window? They don't like peeping-Roxies around here, you know. They've already warned you about it." Lana leaned down to help her up, but Roxie snatched her hand away.
"Don't touch me!" Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know what I saw. They'll believe me this time."
"Okay, okay, now, just calm down. I only want to help you. Where's Ralph? Can I get him for you?"
"He's right inside, he is." Her voice trembled. "He'll be out here any minute, so don't you try anything. I've always known there was something weird about you, about your whole family."
"What's going on out here, Roxie?" A big-bellied man with thinning hair stood in the doorway.
"Ralph, oh Ralph, I'm glad you're here. She's a witch. I-I saw her."
"Mr. Thomas, I just came to explain to your wife that what she saw was a new gadget I've invented to dry clothes." Lana smiled. "Your wife thinks I twitched my nose or something to make a dress float across the room."
Ralph scratched the sprigs of hair left on his balding head. "Roxie, you been snooping again? How many times--
"I'm sure Mrs. Thomas wasn't snooping. Were you, Roxie?"
When Lana offered her a helping hand this time, Roxie accepted it. "That's right. I wasn't snooping. I went over to borrow some coffee when I saw that . . . that thing flying all over her office."
"See? I knew she had a good reason for being there," Lana said.
"Yeah, but she didn't have to spy on you before knocking on the door. Get in the house, Roxie, before someone calls the cops on you again."
Roxie made her way to the door, never taking her eyes off Lana.
"Wait a minute. Don't you still need that coffee?" Lana asked, innocently.
"No. I'll just get some at the store," Roxie said in a defeated tone as she reached for the screen door handle.
"But I wanted to show you the gadget. It's nothing, really. I hate to think you're frightened of me. We're neighbors, and I really want to show you that what you saw wasn't what you thought." Lana walked up the steps.
Roxie opened the door and moved behind her husband. "Don't let her hurt me, Ralph."
"Stop this nonsense right now! Go with Lana, get the coffee, and see the thing that's making you act like an idiot."
Lana felt sorry for Roxie, living with a man who belittled her at every chance. No wonder the woman was a basket case half the time, and Lucy acting up didn't help, either. Unfortunately, Lucy enjoyed scaring Roxie. Said it served the old snoop right, and just might stop her busybody ways.
But Lana suspected Roxie was just lonely--stuck in the house all day with nothing to do but wait on Ralph hand and foot without him showing her any appreciation.
"Really, come on and let me show you."
"Well..."
"Please. I promise you'll be relieved."
"Go on, woman." Ralph pushed Roxie out the door and shut the screen behind her.
Roxie tried to get back inside, but Ralph held the door tight, and then flipped the lock so she couldn't escape back into the house. He chuckled when she pulled desperately on the door handle.
Lana's heart went out to her. She eased her way to Roxie's side and took her by the hand. "Come on. I'll bring you right back. If I don't, Ralph will come and get you. Won't you, Ralph?"
"Yeah, sure, I will." He laughed again. "Stupid bitch is afraid of her own shadow, she is."
Lana wanted to yell at him, You ignorant ingrate, you're not helping. Can't you see your wife's had a terrible fright? But she kept her mouth shut, knowing that it wouldn't help and might only hurt the situation. Roxie's body trembled, causing the curler on her head to jiggle.
As they entered the doorway, Lana saw the dress hung on a thin clear line and thanked heaven her aunt had known what to do. Sometimes she thought the two of them occupied one mind when it came to fixing things.
Lucy made herself visible to Lana and winked at her, then stuck her tongue out at Roxie. Lana rolled her eyes upward before speaking to Roxie. "See, the dress is hung on a line."
"But . . . but, how did it move from there to here, and over to there."
"See here?" Lana followed Lucy to the desk on the far side of the room. "I pull the string here and move it wherever I want." She pointed above them. "And the line runs from here to the doorway over there, going right by the file cabinets."
"Roxie's face turned a bright shade of red. "I'm such a numbskull, just like Ralph says."
"No, you're not. Anyone would have been scared of what you saw. But, you know, you really shouldn't peep into other people's windows like that." She glanced at Lucy, who was nodding her head and laughing as she glided by them.
"I know. I don't know why I do things like that. I just wanted to make sure you were up, before intruding."
"You're never an intrusion. Feel free to visit any time." Lana crossed her fingers behind her back to counter the little white lie.
"Thank you, Lana. I'm so sorry I acted like such an old fool." Roxie shivered. "It's cold in here. How can you stand having that air conditioner on in winter? It's cold outside."
"Oh, but it's not . . ." Lana stopped herself, realizing why the room was chilled. "I turned it on instead of the heat by mistake, and the darn thing is stuck." She tightened her already crossed fingers. "I was just getting ready to fix that after I finished hanging the clothes."
"Let me send Ralph over to fix it for you. He's pretty handy at fixin' things, you know. It's the least I can do."
Lana edged Roxie to the door. "Oh, no, that's not necessary. The button just fell off and rolled under something. I can turn it off as soon as I find the knob. Or if I don't, I'll just use some pliers to turn it off. But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it."
Lucy put her finger in her mouth and pretended to gag--something she'd learned recently and overused.
Lana pursed her lips and narrowed her brows, giving Lucy a quelling look. When they got to the door, Roxie turned around. "I almost forgot. Can I get that coffee now?"
"Yes. It completely slipped my mind, too. Follow me," Lana turned toward the kitchen.
"I'll wait here," Roxie said, backing up.
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Lucy watched as Roxie slipped over to Lana's desk and glanced over the papers stacked there.
Oh, busybody! Lucy hated nosey people more than anything.
Roxie turned the corner of a sheet up with two fingers and tilted her head to one side so she could see what was written on the paper under it.
Lucy noticed one drawer wasn't completely closed on the file cabinet. She flew over and pushed it with all her might. The drawer slammed shut with a bang.
Roxie jumped, her eyes wide as she looked around the room for the source of the noise. Lucy whooshed by so fast; the breeze lifted one of the curlers from Roxie's head. Then, she hurried over, opened and slammed another drawer shut.
At this, Roxie ran for the door. "Oh, God! Let me out of here," she cried and struggled with the knob.
"What in this world? Roxie! Here's your coffee."
Without a word, Roxie reached for the cup with one hand and grasped the doorknob with the other.
Lana gave Lucy another narrow-eyed look. "Here, let me help you with that."
Lucy shrugged her shoulders. Could she help it if the woman couldn't handle loud noises? It wasn't her fault. The old biddie shouldn't have been snooping.
Roxie's teeth chattered. The cream on her face now appeared dry and cracked."What do you have here? Ghosts? Poltergeists?"
"Well, I never. Can you believe she called me a poltergeist? The nerve of that idiot woman."
"Lucy!"
Lucy clasped her hand over her mouth when she realized Lana had said her name aloud without thinking. As Roxie struggled, Lana was able to open the door only after she pried Roxie's hands off of the knob.
Suspicious Minds
Romantic Suspense Novel
Amber Quill Press
Print: ISBN: 1-59279-943-4 - Electronic: ISBN: 1-59279-086-0
Blurb
Suspicious Minds is a story of revenge. Ryan Donatelli is out to find justice for his sister's death and he believes Natalie Southard's father is responsible. Natalie thinks Ryan is in cahoots with the people who are blackmailing her father. Neither are ready for the passion they feel as both try to figure out whose side the other one is on.
PROLOGUE
"Is that her?" Detective Walsh asked, talking around the wad of gum in his mouth.
Ryan Donatelli tugged at the neck of his old football jersey while he looked everywhere but at the body on the steel examination table. The morgue walls were closing in on him. "I don't know." Even to him, his voice sounded tinny, far off. "Shelley's small, but this woman seems much smaller. It's hard to say." The obvious resemblance struck him, but he looked for any reason he could to deny it.
"Dehydration, from the burns," the gray-haired coroner said. "It changes the facial appearance."
Ryan glanced up and noticed the older man's immense nose and his astonishing resemblance to the comedian and singer, Jimmy Durante.
The detective shrugged. "Well, if you can't be sure, I guess we'll just have to . . . wait a minute! What about this?" Walsh removed a small envelope from his jacket pocket and extracted a plastic bag containing a necklace that had been tagged for evidence.
Ryan's stomach spasmed. Acid scorched his throat. Every conscious thought screamed denial, yet his trembling hand reached for the bag. Under the fluorescent lights, the ruby pendant glowed like a hot ember. He squeezed it in his palm, trying to feel its pulsing warmth--like the warmth of Shelley's smile.
Oh, God! It was as cold as the body on the table.
"You okay?" The detective's voice was muffled.
Ryan wanted to laugh at the stupidity of the question, but at this moment, mirth was a foreign emotion to him. With his index finger, he traced the outline of the small stone before turning it over to read the inscription he knew he would find. Unshed tears blurred his vision, but there it was. Happy B-day, Love, R.
"It's Shelley," he said and turned away. He could no longer deny the evident truth, or hang onto the tiniest thread of hope that this was a terrible mistake.
Sweet, stubborn Shelley, his baby sister. She'd never argue politics, movies or anything mundane as the weather again. Shelley loved to challenge him. She'd made him think in new ways and consider new options. What would he do without her?
CHAPTER 1
"Al, I need a favor." Natalie Southard bit her lower lip, uncertain if she was doing the right thing. Her crazy scheme could get them both fired.
"What? Working overtime on a Friday night isn't favor enough? By the way, this report isn't due for another week. You do realize we're the only ones still working, don't you?" Alyson McCormick sighed as she leaned back into the soft, tufted leather chair, her arms and legs stretched out in front of her.
"Working on this report was just an excuse to stay busy until everyone left. Now it's time for the real favor." Natalie flipped the off switch on her computer, smiled at Alyson and walked across the plush carpet to the office door. She poked her head into the hallway and scanned its length for signs of activity. No lights shone from the dozen other offices lining the wide corridor. The only audible sound was the soft hiss of the air-conditioning.
Convinced they were indeed alone, but still cautious, Natalie closed her office door and turned back to Alyson. "Remember what I told you about DeMarco, that investor of my father's?"
"Yes. But I still don't understand why you're suspicious. Your father's too shrewd a businessman to get involved with a scam artist."
"Like I said before--gut instinct and the media. DeMarco's been on the news and in the papers. He's been arrested for everything from illegal gambling to murder. Mark my words, he has his own agenda. I'm sure of it. I just need proof."
"But he's never been convicted." Alyson squinted. Worry lines furrowed over her dark brows. "Oh, no! You've got that look in your eyes. The 'I'm Ethel and you're Lucy' look. What harebrained scheme are you planning now?"
Natalie smiled in spite of the serious situation. Alyson knew her so well. "I do have a plan, but there's nothing harebrained about it. You're right about my father being shrewd. He's never accepted anyone or anything at face value. It's a safe bet he's done a background check on DeMarco, and stashed the information in a file. I'm going to find that file. Tonight."
Alyson's jaw dropped. "Are you crazy? Spying on your own father?"
She knew Alyson was on the verge of giving her a strong lecture on the subject of family trust and loyalty so Natalie jumped in to stop her. "I'm not spying on my father. Just DeMarco. Are you with me on this or not?"
"But your father told you to back off. I know we used to sneak around and do things behind our parents back. We're grown now. Since loyalty is a big issue around here, shouldn't we abide by it?" Alyson smoothed the wrinkles from her too-short skirt, pushing it down her thighs as far as she could. Her slim figure and petite height forced her to buy her clothes from the young miss department.
Was she being fair in asking for her friend's help? Over the years, the two of them had been involved in some wild antics and spontaneous adventures, but none of them had more serious consequences than a slap on the wrist or a tongue-lashing from an irate parent.
At best, rifling her father's private files after she had been warned to back off could have her banished from the company. At worst, if her suspicions about DeMarco proved valid, she could end up chained to a rock at the bottom of the Charles River. It wasn't too late to send Alyson home. "In or out?"
"Okay, okay. Where do I come in?" Alyson's voice sounded weary and resigned as she pushed blonde bangs away from her eyes.
"You don't have to do much. Really." Natalie's pulse raced with apprehension. She slid her fingers along her desk's smooth edge before meeting Alyson's gaze. She wiped imaginary dust from her fingertips with a tissue and cleared her throat.
"I want you to stay in my office with the lights out and the door ajar just far enough to view the hallway. If you see anyone coming toward father's office, dial extension 121. Let it buzz once and hang up. Comprende?"
"Hey, just like a real private eye or secret agent movie. Just call me Le Femme Nikita from now on."
"Then you'll do it?"
"Sure, but you owe me."
"What do you want?" God only knew what Alyson would demand. It could be anything from scuba diving to bungee jumping.
"To be your maid-of-honor."
"That's jumping the gun just a bit, don't ya think?"
"Maybe, but that's what I want."
Natalie rolled her eyes. "All right."
She left Alyson at the door and continued on her mission. She wasn't sure why she was tiptoeing on the sky blue carpet. Her father owned the building, and she should be walking down the corridor like the heiress apparent. But being sneaky made everything seem eerie. Spooky, even.