Undercover Fiance. Sheryl Lynn

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      Chapter Two

      Keys in hand, Janine studied the parking lot. Despite the bright sun shining over the mountains, the temperature hovered in the thirties. She shivered. Until Pinky entered her life she’d been as safety conscious as any reasonably intelligent woman should be. Nowadays she was downright paranoid.

      Daniel Tucker hadn’t been what she expected. Her cousin had talked about him, claiming him more like family than an employer. She’d imagined an authority figure with a wall full of credentials and a serious demeanor. An ex-cop or an attorney, perhaps a Raymond Burr look-alike. Instead, Daniel had an impudent air and a smart-aleck mouth. Baskets of toys filled his reception area and his office looked like a big kid’s playground, full of desk toys, fancy electronic gadgetry, far too many house plants, and silly posters on the walls.

      And handsome! She hadn’t expected him to be so ridiculously good-looking. Eye candy, her sister would dub him.

      His reaction to her didn’t bother her. She was used to men fixating on her body parts. She didn’t like being treated like a bimbo, but she was used to it.

      Her reaction to him, however...

      His staring and open admiration hadn’t annoyed her the way such ogling usually did. She’d indulged in a bit of ogling herself. She’d even flirted; she never did that.

      She pulled sunglasses from her handbag and jammed them on her face. Too old for silly flirtations and crushes, she wasn’t the least bit interested in him as an attractive man.

      She hurried to the Jeep, unlocked the door and jumped inside, pulling the door shut with a slam. She hit the door locks. Windows on the second floor of the office building drew her gaze. In Daniel’s cluttered office she’d felt safe.

      She’d dreaded the appointment and had almost chickened out. She’d expected a humiliating encounter, with Daniel patronizing her as if she were too stupid to handle Pinky by herself. Instead, she’d felt a kinship, a sense of not being so alone. By being so open about his own stalker, he’d made her feel comfortable enough to share her story. The connection and safety she’d felt accounted for his attractiveness.

      She prayed Daniel could help her. She wanted her life back. She craved peace and privacy. If he could help her, let him flirt all he wanted.

      SOFT KNOCKING broke Daniel’s concentration. When J.T. McKennon walked into the office, Daniel smiled in greeting. J.T. wore his work uniform, a red T-shirt with the Full Circle logo and black trousers. He plopped a briefcase on the desk.

      “I saw the lights on when I was driving past. I figured you were still working. When are you going to get a life?”

      “After I finish saving the world from evil. Should take me a few more weeks.” He glanced at his watch, surprised to see how late it was. No wonder his stomach growled. “Did you work late?”

      “Shari has the flu. I took over her self-defense class.” He popped the latches on the briefcase. “I brought the payroll.”

      Daniel used a remote control to turn off the stereo. He’d been listening to the cassette tapes Pinky had given Janine. The lament-filled love ballads and psychobabble commentary were giving him a headache. “You should have canceled the class, man. Frankie doesn’t like you working late.”

      “She took the boy to see her sister. You know how it is when the girls get to talking. I’ll probably beat them home.” He jutted his chin at the calendar pages and correspondence Daniel had spread out on a worktable. “What’s all that?”

      The stalker was a prolific writer, sometimes sending three or four letters a week. The majority of letters were five or more pages long. All the letters were dated, and most were notated with the time. Curious as to whether Pinky’s interest waxed and waned according to some predictable cycle, Daniel had sorted the correspondence into chronological order.

      Using black ink for letters, blue for cassettes and green for greeting cards, he’d filled in a calendar according to when items were received. He circled in red any envelope that didn’t bear a postmark.

      Cards clustered at mid-month and the end of the month. The cards were embossed and foiled, and many were oversize. All were filled with mushy doggerel that passed for poetry among the sentimental set. The prices printed on the backs of them showed the majority were in the five-dollar range. Pinky might be buying cards when he cashed a biweekly paycheck.

      “What did Janine tell you about her problem?”

      J.T. paused in the midst of pulling files from the briefcase. “Janine contacted you?”

      “Called me, made an appointment and showed up right on time. You’re surprised?”

      He lifted a shoulder in a rolling shrug. “I’m surprised she asked for help.” He chuckled.

      “What’s funny?”

      “Frankie’s going to kill me.”

      “Why?”

      “You know how she’s been lately. Ever since she got pregnant, she’s been playing matchmaker. If she isn’t eating, she’s plotting how to marry off her single friends. She wanted to have you and Janine over for dinner. Her words—you’d make a cute couple.”

      “She still can.” It flattered him that Frankie thought he was good enough for her lovely cousin.

      J.T. swung his head. “Won’t be the same. Oh, well. So what’s going on? She didn’t give me details.”

      Daniel debated how much to tell. Since hiring J.T. to run the studios, they’d formed a solid friendship. J.T., Frankie and their little boy had become the family Daniel always longed for. He trusted the big man like a brother, but he also respected Janine’s privacy. Still, J.T. was her cousin-in-law and he would never gossip. Daniel needed someone to bounce his thoughts off of.

      “She’s in trouble.”

      “How much trouble?”

      “On a scale of one to ten, about a twenty. An anonymous stalker is making death threats against her father. Look at this.”