Fever

Turning his back slightly on the man, Ike focused all his considerable charm on the woman, knowing she was his best bet for information. He smiled in the way he knew women liked, and Tessa returned the smile just as he expected. “We really hit it off the other night. I was hoping I could maybe talk her into having dinner with me.”

Tessa frowned. “She is probably at the lab. She almost lives in that lab.”

“Teresa!” The old man, who’d taken up a post by the window, snapped at his wife. “Usted no sabe a este hombre!” he growled in warning.

“He’s Roxie’s friend.” She titled her head in secret meaning that was no secret at all, Ike thought. She had apparently determined that he was a potential love interest.

Ike took a deep breath. This was taking a lot longer than he’d planned. If he still wanted to find Roxie tonight, he knew he’d have to get going. “Can you give me directions to her lab?”

Tessa opened her mouth to speak, but Theo quickly spoke over her. “No!” He barked more than said the one-word answer. “But we’ll tell her you stopped by.”

“Theo, stop being so rude.”

“Funny, I don’t remember her saying anything about working in a lab. But then again, I was so distracted by her face, I’m sure I missed more than that.”

“Our Roxie is a beauty.” Tessa waved her finger in reprimand. “But she’s a lot more than a pretty face, and don’t you forget it.”

“No, ma’am,” he answered obediently. “I could sense her intelligence right away.” He did his best to force his face into a love-struck expression. “She really is a special woman.”

Tessa patted his hand gently. “She just works too hard. Doesn’t take any time for the pleasures in life.”

Ike nodded sympathetically. “Well, I’ll see what I can do to change that.”

“You seem like such a nice young man.” She bounced up off the sofa with the agility of a young woman. “Why don’t you surprise her at work.” She rummaged around in her purse. “I know I have some Sizzler coupons in here somewhere.”

Ike’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, that’s really all right. I already had a restaurant in mind.”

“Are you sure?” She peered at him over the rim of her glasses. “I know they’re in here.”

“Really, if you could just give me the address, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Ike watched her cross the room and write something on a notepad before ripping off the page and handing it to him.

He glanced at the address, but hid his surprise. “Thank you,” he said with a smile, studiously ignoring the old man, who still stood glaring at his side.

“You make sure you take her somewhere nice, like the Sizzler.”

“I will.” He let himself out of the small house. As he drove away, Ike was slightly confused. How could a pro hustler like Roxie Sanchez have been raised by such gullible parents?

As the big, white SUV pulled away from the curb, Theo came up beside his waving wife. “Just what was that all about? That man was not Roxie’s friend or anything else for that matter and you well know it! He’s a cop—or at least, a former cop.”

Tessa gave her husband a sly glance. “Former cop, I’d say.”

“So why did you tell him where to find Roxie? Who knows why he’s looking for her.”

Tessa turned and placed her hand gently against her husband’s shirt. “You’ve always told me I had excellent instincts.” She looked up at his weathered face with love.

“You do,” he mumbled. “And it’s saved us on more than one occasion, but what has that to do with this?”

“Trust my instincts, Theodoro. I have a feeling about Mr. Ike Bancroft.”

Theo looked in the direction of the long gone truck. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

Tessa reached up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I do.”

Roxie stood and stretched before taking off her reading glasses to rest her eyes. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and glanced up at the clock on the wall. Ten-thirty! How could that be?

Standing on her tiptoes, she peeked just over the top of her cubicle and found herself completely alone. At some point during the evening all the members of her staff had quietly crept out, and she’d been none the wiser. The room was completely silent and abandoned. The lights were dimmed, the lab tables and instruments sat clean and still, waiting for another day of use.

She slumped back down in her chair, wondering why she was surprised. It wasn’t as if this were the first time she’d found herself all alone in the lab at some late hour.

There was a time when her staff would’ve tried to persuade her to leave with them, but they had long since figured their boss was an incurable workaholic. Shannon, her senior intern, was the most persistent and she’d given up months ago. Now, they just left her here, no one willing to interrupt her work long enough to toss a halfhearted goodbye over the top of the cubicle wall. But someone always made the security guard aware of her presence on their way out the door.

Roxie looked down at the computer screen covered in codes and calculations and decided nothing else was going to be accomplished by staying later. In fact, nothing had been accomplished all day.

After her harrowing experience the night before, she’d tried to throw herself into her work to forget. But how could she when the image of midnight-black eyes kept intruding. More than once, she’d smelled the faint odor of his musk cologne, felt a warm tingle of air on her neck and turned her head expecting to see him standing beside her. Ike Bancroft.

The man was nothing more than a common thug. He’d have to be to work for Bobby Kincaid. If you ever show your face in my casino again, be prepared to face the consequences. His menacing threat had played again and again in her head all day.

It seemed her parents had gotten involved with a very treacherous group of people.

In hindsight, of course, she could see how ridiculous it was to think she would waltz into the Desert Rose and waltz out with fifty thousand dollars of Bobby Kincaid’s money. She knew it was probably time to acknowledge that she was in over her head, and give up. But she couldn’t. Everything in her demanded payback, not so much for the money taken from her parents, but for the disgrace they now felt. Something she was certain most people would not understand. It was a hustler thing.

Having lived her life first on her own, then as Tessa and Theo’s ward, Roxie knew what the world thought about people like them. There were fewer words in the English language as despised as the words con man. It was synonymous with lowlife, scum. But what Roxie knew that most did not was that it was more honestly synonymous with words such as desperate and hungry.

In the world she knew as a child, there was no black and white, only shades of gray. The question was really what shade of gray would allow you to continue to sleep at night? And for what shade of gray would you sell your soul?

Even as a child, she knew exactly where to draw the line. And although she was not exactly proud of the things she’d done to survive, she had no trouble sleeping at night.

Could Ike Bancroft say the same?

At least she’d never see him again. Whether he realized it or not, his threat was quite effective. The threat and that ominous look in his eyes had chased her away like a frightened kitten.

Although the danger had passed, Roxie couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still not quite settled about the whole affair. She mentally replayed everything that had happened that night, trying to find the missing detail. When he’d asked, she’d given him the alias Roxanne Smith. Okay, it was a pathetic alias, but it still left her virtually anonymous. And just as a precaution, she’d driven Tessa’s car. Not that she had any expectation he would attempt to follow her. After all, she’d left the money on the table.

Finally deciding the unease was due more to paranoia and fatigue than anything legitimate, Roxie decided to pack it in for the night. Her eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. Her back ached from sitting forward over the keyboard. Her stomach was crying for attention.

She passed through the double doors and waved at the young security guard sitting in the booth on the far side of the lot.

“Wait up, Ms. Sanchez!” The guard stood, and called out to her across the lot like he did most nights. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Don’t bother, Trey. I’m fine.” She realized in the time it would take her chivalrous hero to reach her that she could almost be in her car and on the way out of the parking lot.

The young man seemed to hesitate for a moment before slipping back into his booth. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Roxie took her time crossing the large, empty lot. It was a particularly clear night, and even with the city lights, many bright stars were still visible in the sky. She felt a soft breeze whip across the area, as several loose ringlets of curly hair tickled her face. There was no hurry as she contemplated her planned light dinner of antipasto salad and rolls.

She passed by a car, a large jalopy whose color and make were both hard to distinguish. She knew that it was Trey’s prize possession, as many nights he’d described in vivid detail his intentions for restoring the old vehicle. Roxie glanced at the metal mess knowing his hopes were in vain, but decided she was not the one to crush his dreams.