Playing With You Read online

  “Excuse me.” Ricki smiled at Deena before she moved along the cases to where the man and woman were looking over the pastries. “Welcome to Sweet Things. Are you looking for something in particular?” Ricki asked.

  “We want to see what you have,” the woman said. “It all looks so good.”

  While Ricki’s customers browsed the bakery items, Deena stood with her arms folded across her chest, almost like she was impatient. Ricki was certain that wasn’t the case. Deena was just waiting to see if Ricki had more time to talk.

  More customers came through the door and soon there were enough people in the shop that Ricki knew they’d be busy for a while. She called Lettie up to the front to help. Lettie had been icing cookies in the kitchen for a bridge club. One of the members would be picking them up later in the day.

  When it looked like Ricki wasn’t going to be able to spend time talking with her, Deena sat in a chair at the table where she’d set her purse and proceeded to eat her cookies and drink her tea.

  At times Ricki thought she could feel Deena’s stare, but when she looked at the woman, she seemed to be intent on eating or was looking through the window at the street.

  The lunch rush started and soon all of the tables were filled until there wasn’t enough room for anyone else to sit, and yet Deena stayed. Ricki glanced at her watch. Deena had been there for nearly two hours.

  She must be really lonely, Ricki thought, and felt bad for her friend.

  Eventually everything slowed until Deena was the only one in the shop. She got up and tossed the bag and cup, hitched her purse strap over her shoulder, then went up to the case. “You sure get busy here.”

  Ricki’s feet were already aching from the busy day but she smiled. “I’m truly blessed. I couldn’t ask for a better career.”

  “You’re incredibly good, that’s what you are,” Deena said with enthusiasm. “Those cookies were amazing.”

  “Lettie baked and frosted them.” Ricki gestured to the case. “She makes all of the cookies. She’s fantastic at it.”

  “Oh.” By Deena’s expression it seemed as if she was disappointed to learn that Ricki wasn’t the one who’d made them, but her smile didn’t leave her face. “When do you close up shop?”

  “Five-thirty.” Ricki glanced at her watch again before meeting Deena’s eyes. “I need to get in back while we don’t have any customers. I have a specialty birthday cake to finish icing. I’ll meet you at Nectars, after I run home to take care of a few things.”

  Deena nodded and looked reluctant to leave, but she adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Would you mind picking me up?”

  “Not at all,” Ricki said. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

  “See you then,” Deena said before turning to walk out the front door. The bells jingled as she opened then closed it behind her.

  Ricki watched Deena for a moment. Her friend was clearly lonely. Ricki understood making a fresh start in a new town and how stressful it could be.

  The thought of stress made Ricki wonder if she’d remembered to take her pill that morning. She thought she had.

  She thought about how important her friend, Greta, had been when Ricki was feeling isolated in a new town before the bakery was quite up and running. For a while she’d been depressed, wondering if she’d made the right decision in moving and buying the bakery.

  Maybe she’d be able to introduce Deena to more people around Prescott so that Deena could make more friends. Ricki planned to check the town’s social calendar to see what upcoming events would be going on in the near future.

  Deena passed by the window and soon she was out of sight. Ricki let out a little breath then turned and headed into the kitchen.

  Chapter 10

  Brilliant spring sunshine played over Deena’s fair skin as she walked past the bakery. After looking both ways, she waited for an SUV to pass then crossed the street. When she reached the other side, she stood at an angle where she could see the bakery but Ricki shouldn’t notice her.

  Once Deena was watching the bakery, she scowled. She didn’t like how Ricki had all but ignored her for the past two hours. Ricki could have taken the time to stop by Deena’s table and see how she was doing every now and then. Yes, the place had been busy, but now that they were friends, she expected more out of Ricki.

  The fact that Garrett had been in the bakery when Deena arrived grated on her nerves and she clenched her teeth. Ricki and Garrett didn’t belong together. When she’d arrived, Deena had parked across the street from Ricki’s shop. Deena had stepped out of her car and had stood and watched Ricki and Garrett sitting at a table beside the window. She’d had a good view for only a few moments before going in and breaking up whatever conversation the pair had been having.

  After unlocking the car, Deena moved from her spot on the sidewalk to her vehicle and climbed in. The interior was warm from the car having been parked in the sun for hours so she turned on the air conditioning and ran it full blast the moment after she started the engine. She backed out her vehicle before heading to the hotel. Heat prickled the back of her neck as she thought of Garrett and Ricki spending time with each other and she had to force herself not to speed. Still, her hands ached as she gripped the steering wheel so tightly that she felt like the skin covering her knuckles would burst.

  It was a fairly short drive to the hotel, so it didn’t take long to reach it. She parked and headed up to her suite. She wrinkled her nose. The place smelled stale and of old carpeting that probably hadn’t seen a shampooer for ages.

  Once she’d unlocked the door, she slipped inside then let it slam shut behind her. She tossed her purse on the worn couch, kicked off her shoes, and stripped out of her clothing, leaving a trail all the way to the bathroom. She turned on the shower and ran it until it was warm then stepped beneath the water. She soaped her skin with her favorite lilac-scented bathing gel that she’d brought with her. It had been her mother’s favorite scent.

  Her mother, Dolores, had been her best friend. Her confidant. Deena missed her more than anything and her heart ached. Dolores had died from cancer just three years ago.

  Deena’s father, on the other hand, had been a real bastard. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment as the water rushed over her but she had to open them because images started to assault her, images that she wished she could scoop right out of her brain.

  Her whole body stiffened as the unwanted thoughts pounded at her mind.

  Thoughts of the times when she was young…her father and uncle touched her in her private places when they were certain no one was looking. Her stomach churned at the memories of the things they made her do to them. She hadn’t quite been a teenager when they started touching her and forcing her to touch them…and worse.

  She clenched her hands so tightly her nails dug into her palms and she felt like she was going to throw up from the ache in her belly.

  And then, as if having sexually abusive adults in her life wasn’t bad enough, Deena had married a bastard who had beaten her.

  If her father hadn’t died when he’d choked on a piece of steak, and if her uncle hadn’t moved away, she might have killed them when she was old enough to defend herself. Her ex-husband had been lucky because he’d skipped out of town. One more day with him and she knew she would have put him out of her misery.

  She shuddered and felt as if black sludge coated her skin. She turned up the water’s heat and the power of the spray to blast the terrible feelings from her body.

  With effort, she forced all bad thoughts aside and concentrated on good ones.

  Like thoughts of Ricki, which were always good. She was such a lovely woman. Not only was she pretty, but she was like Deena’s mother had been with her sweet disposition and her ability to set people around her at ease.

  For a long time, Deena stood under the hot spray until she felt clean again and she had relaxed. She’d filled herself with positive thoughts about how pleasant it would be when she was out with Ricki.
/>   Deena smiled. It would be fun testing the waters with Ricki tonight and gauging just how far she could go with her this soon. Unfortunately, it probably wouldn’t be too far. Not yet. It would take her a little longer than she’d like to seduce Ricki completely, but she would do her best to be patient.

  Not that being patient was easy for her. Not at all.

  When Deena finished showering, she dried off and slipped into lacy black panties with a matching bra that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. She didn’t bother to put on any other clothing, but moved around in her lingerie.

  One of her eyes started stinging and it burned and ached as if she’d gotten a piece of sand in her contact. She went to the bathroom and picked up the bottle of saline she’d left on the counter before removing a brown contact lens, leaving her for a moment with one pale blue eye and one brown eye. She rinsed off the contact with saline then put the lens in again. She blinked rapidly as the contact settled. Much better. She went ahead and took out her other brown lens and rinsed it, too, before putting it back in and blinking until the contact was settled.

  For a moment she studied her reflection and touched a finger to her full lips, remembering when they used to be thin. She rather liked this new look with the cropped and bleached white-blonde hair, sable brown eyes, and collagen enhanced lips. Not only had she changed her hair and eye color, but she’d lost close to forty pounds and was now slim and trim and enjoyed showing off her body when she could. She couldn’t wait to show it off to Ricki.

  She was virtually unrecognizable and looked like she could be Angelina Jolie and Sharon Stone’s love child. She braced her hands on either side of the sink, leaned forward, and inspected her hairline. She was going to have to bleach it again to take care of the dark roots that were just starting to show.

  The air in the room was cool on her bare skin as she settled in an overstuffed chair and put her feet up on a desk chair. She took her iPad off the end table and visited a job hunting website as she started looking at employment opportunities in Prescott.

  Not a whole lot was there that interested her. Sooner or later she was going to have to give in and pick something. She’d told Ricki the truth that she’d been in management. She just hadn’t mentioned that it had been at a fast food chain.

  She’d risen up just about as high as she could go and made enough to get by, but not what she deserved to be paid. Now that she’d created a new life for herself, she was creating a whole new résumé and she intended to bullshit her way into a good job with good pay.

  Fortunately, Deena had stashed away the inheritance that her grandmother had left her three years ago. Deena hadn’t been close to her grandmother, but the woman had left each of her grandchildren a generous sum, so Deena had enough in cash to live off of for six months. She didn’t plan on taking that long to get a job—or to see all her plans fall into place. Once she was with Ricki, things would be even better.

  Deena smiled to herself, thinking of spending time out on the town with Ricki. It was still a couple of hours until it was time for Ricki to pick her up and Deena was anxious to go.

  She was more than ready. Every step was another step closer to having Ricki all to herself.

  Chapter 11

  He couldn’t stay away from Ricki. She was like a drug that he needed and couldn’t live without. He hadn’t been able to keep himself from going into the bakery and asking her to join him, and he’d enjoyed every moment of it.

  Garrett clenched a document in his hand and had to relax his grip. He set the paper on his desk, and smoothed it out with his fingers as he absently stared at the information for a case he was working on. This one involved a suspected cheating spouse, one of his least favorite types of cases. Especially since he knew the woman who’d hired him, Sally Johnson. He’d gone to grade school with her and had always liked her.

  He didn’t know her husband, Andy Johnson, but already Garrett wanted to knock the shit out of the man if he was cheating on Sally, a real sweetheart. Considering the Johnsons owned half of Prescott and were prominent in the community, it was going to be a real scandal if Andy Johnson was cheating.

  From the time he was a kid, Garrett couldn’t stand an injustice being done. He’d gotten into fight after fight, defending kids being picked on, and had ended up in the principal’s office on multiple occasions. He’d been stubborn and shut down when the principal and counselors talked with him, refusing to tattle. As far as he was concerned, in most cases he’d already made the bully regret what he’d done.

  Would Garrett have taken it upon himself to champion those who couldn’t defend themselves if his father hadn’t been such a brutal man? When he was young, he hadn’t been able to defend his mother and brother, or himself, against his father, when the bastard went on one of his rampages. So instead, he’d defended those he could.

  Garrett grew up with the desire to get into law enforcement but decided to go into private investigations because he felt he could do more good there than he could as a police officer. He also liked to work for himself—he wasn’t much for following orders. He liked to do things in his own way without a bunch of red tape.

  Despite everything, the fact that violence was in his blood concerned him more than he wanted to admit. He’d gotten into plenty of fights, even as a teenager. What if he lost control and hurt someone he cared about? The thought gnawed at him, making him clench his jaw in frustration.

  His thoughts turned to Ricki. God, he could never hurt her or another woman. But the fact he had a violent past scared the shit out of him.

  The sins of the father…

  Garrett slammed his fist down on his desk, rattling the cup of pens and pencils that sat precariously on the edge. He moved the cup and let his breath out, then leaned back in his leather chair and studied the framed Norman Rockwell art on his walls. He’d always loved Rockwell and had several of his prints. “Runaway,” “Bottom of the Sixth,” and “Homecoming Marine,” were three of his favorites that he had in the office. He had several more in his home on the ranch.

  Rockwell’s paintings depicted a simple, peaceful, happy existence that he wished better mirrored the world around him. In his line of work the world was a much darker place.

  He wondered if it was possible to have a life like the ones depicted by Rockwell. He was a realist, so he didn’t expect things to ever be perfect and rosy, but a part of him, deep inside, was also a romantic.

  Garrett rubbed his temples. He had to get his mind back on the job. He needed to follow Johnson when the man got off work, which would be any time now. He’d put a tracker on Johnson’s car and would wait until the man reached his destination before following him. Putting a tail on a man in a town like Prescott wasn’t an easy thing to do without getting spotted.

  According to Sally, Andy always came home late from work on Wednesday nights, so tonight would be a good time to see what Johnson was up to. Hell, maybe he was just playing poker with the boys and didn’t want to tell his wife. Garrett hoped that it was that simple of an explanation.

  He glanced at the time on his mobile phone that he’d left on his desktop before opening up the tracker app that located the device he’d put on Johnson’s car. Within moments he had a signal. Looked like the man was still at work.

  Garrett left his office and stepped into the night that was lit by a streetlight in front of his building. He unlocked the parallel-parked nondescript tan sedan that he used for surveillance. He didn’t use his truck for these occasions because it was easily recognizable and didn’t blend in as easily as the sedan did.

  After he climbed in and started the vehicle, he opened the tracker app on his phone again and saw that Johnson was now leaving his office. Garrett watched the GPS to see where the man was headed. Looked like he was on his way to the side of town opposite from where he lived. After Garrett took off his Stetson and exchanged it for a ball cap, he pulled out onto the street and followed the signal until he caught up with Johnson’s car. It was dark out, but Garrett
still stayed three car lengths behind the man.

  Fifteen minutes later, Johnson turned onto a residential street. Garrett parked on the corner when he saw Johnson’s car pull into the driveway of a modest ranch style home. Garrett used his surveillance phone to take a few pictures of Johnson exiting his vehicle, zooming in on the license plate and the house number.

  Johnson stood on the doorstep, looking from left to right, and pressed the doorbell. A few moments later a woman in a white robe opened the door and let Johnson into the house.

  Shit.

  Looked like Sally was about to get her heart broken. Damn, but he hated this.

  Garrett took several pictures of the pair as Johnson walked into the house. The woman closed the door behind them.

  No curtains or blinds were open in the front of the house but the lights were on. Once Garrett had checked to make sure no cars were coming and neighbors weren’t out in their yards, he climbed out of his sedan and pulled down his ball cap. Carrying his camera, he walked across the street.

  He gritted his teeth, his muscles tense. This was the part of his job he hated.

  When he reached the woman’s front yard, he checked again to make sure no one was around then slipped into the darkness beside the home. He moved along the side of the house, listening. At first there was nothing but then he heard a feminine giggle and voices moving toward the back of the house.

  The windows were dark in the backyard, but soon a dim glow came from one of the rooms. Clearly, a lamp had been turned on.

  He had to step between two rose bushes as he moved closer to one of the windows, careful to stay pressed to the side of the house and not to make a sound. He’d done this far too many times for too many different reasons. The only way to complete the job was to get the photos.

  His jeans protected him from rose thorns in the waist-high bushes as he shifted so that he could find an opening. All it took to capture his targets in the act was a space between the curtain and the frame, or a slightly opened blind to do what he had to do. Sometimes it was cheating spouses, other times it was tracking a thief and proving he had the stolen goods before the police were called. There were any number of reasons why he’d had to make use of his skills.