Guardian, Kaitlyn O'Connor [funny books to read txt] 📗

off the sheetof paper he’d been doodling on, he wadded it up and tossed ittoward the trash.

He missed. By the number of paper wadsaround it, he hadn’t perfected the shot yet. “Fruit cake,” he saidsuccinctly. “Total kook. Which is a damned shame if you ask me.That was a fine looking woman. I always did have a thing forredheads.”

Roddy’s brows shot to his hairline.“Seriously? You ain’t messing with me?”

Dillard grinned. “Seriously kooky.Still a fine looking piece, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t get a goodlook,” Roddy admitted, his expression and tone relaying hisdisappointment. “You need to watch what you say, though, ‘cause ifit gets back to your old lady she’ll de-ball you.”

Warming to his theme, Dillard ignoredthe comment about his wife. “A real lady, too. Can’t remember thelast time I saw a woman with that much class in thisplace.”

Roddy was intrigued. “You think she’srich?”

Dillard gave him a sour look. “Notshopping at Cheap-mart. I said class—highly educated—like ateacher, you know. All prim and proper.”

“Damn,” Roddy muttered.“And nutty as a fruit cake. What a shame! I thought I heard her saysomething about library?”

Dillard nodded. “Say’s she’s alibrarian.”

“So, you thinking she’sjust invented the whole suspicion thing to entertainherself?”

Dillard shrugged, but he frownedthoughtfully. “Why would a woman like that, librarian or not, haveto invent something to entertain herself? I mean, if she was oldand single I could see it.”

“I don’t know,” Roddy saidand shrugged himself. “I didn’t catch the whole tale. Did sheactually give you anything to work with? You want me to check itout?”

“Not a lot.” Dillard shookhis head. “I have a duty to check it out, but I’m betting itsnothing.”

“How you going to dothat?”

Dillard thought it over. “She said shewas a librarian. How many libraries could there be?”

Roddy grinned. “Careful.If you’ve got a mind to check her out your old ladymight get wind of it.And then you’ll be up shit creek.”

Chapter Two

The more Marilyn thought about theincident at the police station, the guiltier she felt and the moreembarrassed and anxious she became.

She’d ratted on herneighbor because she thoughthe might be up to something and she didn’t knowthat he’d done anything at all.

In vain she kept reminding herselfthat he had behaved in a suspicious way or it would never haveoccurred to her to do anything like that. And that the governmenthad harped on ‘see something, say something’ to stop violence andlawlessness and terrorism until they had eroded her confidence inher judgment. And then she reminded herself that they weren’t goingto just walk up and arrest him because of something she’d said.Clearly, they hadn’t believed a word of it. They probably wouldn’teven investigate.

It was along about that time that itdawned on her that she hadn’t actually given them any information.Nothing they could use to track her, she didn’t think.

Except her name.

God! Why had she given her name? Shecould have reported anonymously!

By phone, stupid, she chastisedherself, wishing she’d done that instead, but the only landline sheknew of was in the library where she worked and she was afraidthey’d trace the call.

She should haveknown she didn’t havethe skill, or the sneakiness, to carry off something like this, shethought irritably.

And it was about that time that sheslammed into something she was sure shouldn’t have been therebecause she was on the sidewalk—slammed into something and bouncedback and was grabbed.

Someone.

It was a body—a person—she’d run into, she realized when the shock lifted enough for it to filter intoher brain that it was hard but yielding and warm. “Oh my god!” shegasped, struggling to regain her balance and stepping all over thefeet in the process. “Sorry, sorry!”

Whoever it was stepped back the thirdtime she stepped on his feet and, since she hadn’t regained herbalance, she shifted forward and wallowed her face all over hischest and belly as gravity took over.

Thankfully, he grabbed her upper armsand set her away before she face planted his gentileregion.

Marilyn looked up to see who she’dwallowed all over and discovered it was her neighbor.

The one she’d just narcedon.

She felt her jaw go slack—mostly athis proximity because he really was drop dead gorgeous. That wasn’tjust imagination.

But also because she’d just narced onhim and guilt sent her shocked mind into a spiral. “Oh! I am … I amso sorry,” she stammered. “You should have looked where …. I mean Ishould have. Excuse me. Pardon me.”

She discovered she’d dropped herpurse. She squatted to grab it at the same time he spotted it anddropped to a crouch to grab it and they slammed heads together hardenough her ears rang.

And his sunglasses were knockedaskew.

And she got a glimpse of the strangesteyes she had ever seen.

He righted the glasses and tried tohelp her up.

“No! I’m fine,” Marilynsaid absently. “I have to …. Everything fell out of mypurse.”

He shoved her back anyway, held herarm until he was sure she wouldn’t fall, and then grabbed the purseand the contents and began shoveling quickly and efficiently—andwithout any regard for what he was grabbing and stuffing into thepurse.

When he’d finished, he shot upwardagain, shoved the purse at her chest and waited till she grabbedit. “You ok?”

Marilyn gaped at him and finallymanaged to nod.

He nodded back, stepped around her andleft at a brisk, purposeful, ground eating stride—completely unlikethe stride she’d seen before—which was generally slow andmeandering with a not infrequent stumble forpunctuation.

Still struggling with shock at thecollision, Marilyn wandered inside and made it to the elevator. Shewent all the way to the top floor before she thought to punch thebutton for her floor—the second.

She usually took the stairs—for theexercise—but she was addled. She’d just walked into the elevatorbecause it was sitting there, waiting, with the dooropen.

The forced wait went a long way towardscaling down on the shock. She was still in emotional turmoil whenthe cubicle reached her floor, dinged, and the doors opened, buther brain was functioning on a higher level than animalinstinct.

She wandered down the hallway for alittle bit, because she wasn’t used to arriving via elevator, andfinally found her door—which looked like every other door in thebuilding—unlocked it, went inside and then collapsed,