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© 2004, Jaye Roycraft Reviews For ACES by Jaye Roycraft “ACES is a great book to sit back and read in one seating. Short and well written, it is full of enough mystery and relationship building to keep the reader interested.” - Reviewed by Sarah Silversmith, The Romance Reader’s Connection Sample Chapter For ACES by Jaye Roycraft As if they had a mind of their own, the fourteen sheets that passed for a newspaper wriggled from Devon’s grasp and flopped to the tabletop, the back two pages floating open from the impact. Her can of diet soda, already wet with condensation, rolled from her fingertips, and she fumbled to right it as she dropped her lunch cooler and the morning’s mail to the table with a sigh. It was another one of those days. A small ad caught her eye. Free Crime Prevention Survey, Commercial or Residential, No Obligation. Marshall Security, Full Line of Security and Investigative Services, 256 Coyote Lane, Aces, Arizona. She lingered over the ad as she popped open her soda, downed a long swallow, and reached into her cooler for her turkey, tomato, and alfalfa sprout sandwich. Sure, she thought, no obligation, right. A free five-minute survey and they talk you into laying out several hundred dollars for a security system. Still... The phone call, still fresh in her mind, replayed again, the voice in her mind as clear as it had been two days ago. “Devon...are you as hot in person as you are on TV? I can’t wait to find out. Did you get my calling card?” A small shudder rippled through her at the memory, and she rubbed her hand along her trousers to wipe the can’s wetness from her fingers. She had received a few prank and obscene calls when she had lived in Chicago, and the requisite number of nasty calls and letters when she had sued the City of Milwaukee following Josh’s death, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle this call. Besides, this hadn’t sounded like a kid playing games. This voice had been low, clear, masculine, and definitely adult. Nor did it sound like somebody upset with her brand of politics. This had sounded personal. She had hesitated to call the police, even after incessant prodding from Laurinda Salis, her office assistant. In the end it had been worry for the Center and the kids that had prompted her to call APD. For all the good it had done. Experience was scarcely in evidence as she had eyed the young responding officer. He had hardly looked old enough to be out of the police academy, but his physical attributes were in abundance. Biceps that had stretched the fabric of his short-sleeved uniform shirt bespoke a strong devotion to the gym, and Devon had been painfully aware of the handcuffs, expandable baton, pepper spray, and semi-automatic that crowded the belt on the officer’s slim waist. No, she hadn’t recognized the voice. No, she didn’t know why anyone would want to threaten her. No, she hadn’t had any other trouble or received any other threats. No, she hadn’t thought to hit *69 on the phone to give her the number of the caller. Yes, she had been on TV the week before, for a grand total of two minutes. Why? To make a proposal at the town council meeting that the Aces Police Department establish a vehicle pursuit policy in light of the two deaths near Phoenix earlier in the month that had been caused by a police chase. She had studied the young officer’s eyes then, and knew without a doubt that behind the practiced indifference in his gray eyes she was definitely not making brownie points as a victim. As if they ever cared, she thought. Yes, she had been mentioned on TV as being the Director of the new Aces Youth Center. Did she think the threat was due to her proposal or related to the Center? As if she would know. The officer had snapped his memo book shut, advised her to get Caller-ID, then, almost as an afterthought, added that he would file a report. As if to say, Lady, I have better things to do. She played with her sandwich, pulling the sprouts out from beneath the turkey with her teeth, as she read the ad again. It might not be a bad idea. The kids were her responsibility. Anything and everything that she could do to ensure their safety should be done. And even if she did have to spend some money, funds were no problem. Devon pulled a pen from behind her ear and jotted down Marshall Security’s phone number in the small appointment book she carried with her, underlining Marshall three times. *** “Uh, Dev?” Startled, Devon looked up. She really had to get a good night’s sleep one of these days. She hadn’t even heard her assistant step into her doorway, and trying to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her was ten times the chore it normally was. “Yes, Laurie?” “The, uh, guy from the security company is here to see you.” Laurie had a strange look on her face. A scrunch, as if she were either trying to stop a sneeze or suppress a huge grin, twisted her features. Devon sighed, but inwardly she couldn’t
help but smile. Laurie had an opinion about every man she met, and Devon
would get no peace until she heard this latest. “Come in, and
shut the door, Laurie.” Devon leaned back in her chair. “I take it there’s a reason you didn’t just buzz me. Oh God, what’s wrong with him?” She remembered the young cop she had talked to. “Don’t tell me it’s another twenty-one-year-old kid who thinks he knows everything?” Laurie crossed her arms over her chest. “Hey, I’m twenty-one.” Devon smiled broadly to cover her slip. “Sure, but we girls mature quicker, right?” “Nice try. No, this guy’s even older than you are. Seriously, I just thought I should give you a minute, so you could comb your hair or fix your makeup, or something.” “What?” “I even checked for a ring. I didn’t see one.” “What?” “I’m just trying to help
you out...” Laurie cocked her head and assumed a look of hurt
innocence. Devon exhaled a long breath and dropped her head into her hands. Maybe if she could massage her temples the pounding in her head would go away. A moment later a soft knock brought her head up. She forgot about her headache. The man lounging in the doorway was definitely not a twenty-one-year-old kid. “Miss Dawes? Rick Tredino, Marshall Security.” Laurie’s theatrics had been well founded. He was a dream date indeed. Devon had expected the typical fast-talking young salesman type, not a tall, lean thirty-something hunk who looked like he’d be more comfortable riding a horse than pushing security systems. He stood with one tanned arm braced against the doorjamb, as if he were trying to find comfort in an uncomfortable setting. Her gaze followed his muscled arm to the wide shoulders and frosty brown eyes that stared back at her with a sharpness that belied his easy-going stance. When their eyes met, his flicked down and back up as if he were taking his own appraisal of her. His hair, so dark as to be nearly black, hung half-combed to his shoulders and provided a perch for the aviator-shaped sunglasses pushed to the top of his head. He wore a navy blue T-shirt with “Marshall Security” embroidered in red over the breast, worn jeans that were definitely not “relaxed fit,” and brown leather boots. His belt sported both a cell phone and a pager, and the hand that rested at his side grasped a large notebook. He raised his eyebrows. “Ten o’clock appointment?” There was something about him she couldn’t quite define. He didn’t quite come off as rude or arrogant, but there was something in his eyes that was somehow familiar and unsettling. He was a dream date all right—she just wasn’t sure that a cowboy with big-city eyes was her idea of a dream. She quickly blanked her features and pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind. She took a deep breath, stood up, and extended her hand. “Yes, of course. Thanks for responding so promptly to my call.” He stepped forward, transferred the notebook from his right hand to his left, and firmly took her hand in his. “No problem.” “Please sit down, Mr. Tredino.” “Call me Rick.” She waited while he made himself comfortable in one of the padded chairs in front of her desk, shifting the phone and pager on his belt to one side. The motion drew her attention to his oval belt buckle and everything south of his narrow waist, and she quickly raised her eyes, praying he hadn’t noticed the focal point of her gaze. He made eye contact with her, and she added a postscript to her prayer that her fair complexion wouldn’t advertise the heat she felt rising to her face. “All right, then, Rick. I’d like to get your complimentary survey done on the Center. Providing a safe environment for the kids is my first priority, but I’d like to know my office records and equipment are safe, too.” “Sure. This’ll take an hour or so. We’ll do the inside first, then I’ll do the outside on my own. We can go over my recommendations, and hopefully you’ll be interested.” The last five words were drawled as he looked her eye to eye. She arched her brows and said nothing. A wry downward turn to his mouth was his first response. “You might be surprised.” The words were annoyingly soft. Maybe it was her imagination, spurred on by Laurie’s fantasies, but everything Rick was saying seemed to have a double meaning. “I doubt it.” He cocked his head. “Well, don’t turn down the offer just yet.” She stuck on her best cynical smile. “And how much will these recommendations cost?” He curved his mouth. “Depends on your needs. I’ll only recommend what I honestly feel is best, and you’re under no obligation to have Marshall Security do any further work. But if you are interested, I’ll tell you exactly what I can do for you and what it’ll cost. Okay?” “Umm. Let’s get started.” She showed him the office area first, with the copy machine, fax machine, computer, and phone system. Rick’s gaze was everywhere, missing nothing in the room. Behind his back, Laurie rounded her eyes at Devon, her brows lifted in question. Devon glanced at Rick to make sure he couldn’t see her, then turned to Laurie and frowned, giving her the “thumbs down” signal. It wouldn’t do to encourage Laurie in her matchmaking ways, no matter how delicious the man looked. Laurie shook her head vigorously in opposition. Next was the office area used by the
counselors, a storage area, the lunchroom, and finally, the gym and
recreational areas. Rick asked questions, scribbled notes, and examined
doors and windows. The minute he donned his sunglasses and headed outside,
Laurie ambushed her outside the lunchroom. Devon studied the ceiling, pretending to ponder Laurie’s question. “Umm…well, he’s not bad if you like the home-on-the-range type who looks at you like he’d love nothing more than to poke a hot branding iron your way.” Laurie laughed. “I knew you’d like him!” Devon couldn’t help but smile and shake her head, tossing her loose hair over her shoulder. “Like him? I don’t even know him, and I don’t think I want to.” The phone rang, and Devon dropped her smile. Every ring of a phone reminded her of “Mr. Ace.” Laurie nodded like the wisest of sages. “Yes you do.” “Laurie, go answer the phone.” The girl, her eyes twinkling, threw
Devon a look of triumph as she turned and ran for the phone. Thankfully, it was a school day and the Center was quiet at this hour. J. D. would be coming in at three, as usual. J. D. Darrison was her manager and right-hand man. While she handled administrative and personnel matters, J. D. worked directly with the kids, supervising, coaching, and advising. He was a father figure to those kids who had no father at home, a big brother to the rest, and a role model to all who knew him. Devon made no major decisions regarding the Center without him, and she would definitely get his opinion on Mr. Tredino’s recommendations before implementing any of them. She looked at her watch and sighed. So far she had gotten nothing done today. She went through a small stack of invoices, approving them for payment, and started on the bank statement when Laurie buzzed her. “Mr. Tredino’s ready for you again.” Devon could hear the smile in Laurie’s voice. “Thank you, Laurie. I’ll be right out.” She opened her compact, quickly checked her makeup, then cursed and snapped the plastic lid down so hard she broke the catch. What was she doing? She took a sip of her diet soda, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and went to let him in. The sunglasses were once more pushed
up, the bows holding back the damp hair at his temples. “Can I get you something to drink, Rick? A soda or some ice water?” She felt a small pang of guilt that she hadn’t offered him something earlier. A very small pang. “Just water, thanks.” She buzzed Laurie and made the request, careful to keep her voice even. “You have a good layout here. I’ll come back at night to check on your outside lighting more thoroughly, but it looks adequate. The major recommendation I have is for an alarmed security system. That way, if someone breaks in after hours, the police are immediately notified, and a unit’ll be here within minutes. If you want to designate our firm as a keyholder, myself or my partner Marsh Roland will also respond any time an alarm goes off.” Rick took out several brochures, and went over the specifications and basic operation of several available commercial packages. “If you want, I can have proposals for you tomorrow. One for a basic system and one more customized.” She sighed. She hated to admit it, but what he had presented to her did make sense. “All right, but before I make any final decision, I’ll want J. D. to look over the proposals.” “Yeah, I know J. D.” “You do?” Rick cocked his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Everybody knows J. D. Darrison. He’s a good man.” He caught her off guard with that. “Well, we certainly agree there.” She smiled, staring at his eyes. He stared back. She felt a heartbeat of connection before his eyes shifted and distanced themselves from her. Now she had it. The way Rick looked at her was probing, yet at the same time detached. It was the same way the young cop had looked at her. She shuddered. He quickly glanced down at his watch. “Listen, I know you’re busy, but I promised you an hour, and it’s only ten-forty. I can give you a quick survey on your private residence. No charge.” Devon hesitated. She didn’t really want this man in her home, and yet the disturbing memory of the phone call was not only still there, it wasn’t likely to go away anytime soon. She looked up at the eyes cloaked by thick black lashes and dark brows. As long as he was putting those inquisitive eyes to work on her behalf, what was the harm? If there was a way to make her house more secure, why not? “Sure. I can afford the time.” She stood and gathered up her purse, pulling out her sunglasses. “Let’s go.” She paused at Laurie’s desk on the way out. “I’m going to run home for a few minutes. Hit me on the box if you need me.” Laurie’s gaze slid suspiciously from Devon to Rick back to her boss, but Devon did her best to give nothing in her expression away. Rick, on the other hand, showed Laurie enough white teeth to blind her, and his wink did a better job of pinkening her face than her makeup did. “Um, sure, Dev.” Rick leaned forward over Laurie’s desk. “Good Day, Miss Salis. I’ll be seeing you.” Devon could feel her teeth grinding together. God! Laurie would never let her live this one down. They were at Devon’s house in just over five minutes, Rick following in his white Wrangler. She parked in her driveway, and Rick pulled up behind her. Welcomed by the sunburst-shaped windows of her garage, Devon experienced the sense of satisfaction and peace she felt every time she looked at her house. Set on a corner lot on the edge of town, she had a magnificent view of a range of small mountains that were so close she felt she could reach out and touch them. The obligatory block privacy fence enclosed her entire yard, but an interior metal gate separated the front yard from the back. Both sides were landscaped beautifully with peach-colored stones and desert plants that complemented the soft beige stucco exterior. The rear yard held a concrete slab for RV parking. Patios extended on three sides of the house, only the garage on the fourth side preventing a patio there, too. It was a good-sized house, with a large living room that opened onto a sunroom on the western side, three bedrooms, and a spacious kitchen-dining area, but it didn’t take Rick more than ten minutes to check the house, inside and out. “Nice place,” was his only comment while he looked around. Coming back inside after checking the yards, she handed him an iced tea, and they stood in the sunroom. “I don’t see any problems. Good deadbolts on the doors and good windows. Your lighting’s fine, and your wall’s more substantial than most. I assume you don’t use the RV parking, so you could put a lock on the RV gate, but that’s pretty minor. It’s real quiet out here. I wouldn’t recommend a security system unless you really want one. You haven’t had any trouble here, have you?” Devon hesitated. Somehow she felt as though she would be showing a weakness by admitting her fear over one stupid phone call and one silly playing card, and for some strange reason, she rebelled at showing this particular man any weakness. “No, no trouble at all.” Rick tilted his head and tried to catch her eye. “I hear a ‘but’ in that statement.” Still she hesitated, turning her head to the mountains to avoid his gaze. Damn him, he would probably laugh at her, just like that cop had wanted to do. “You can tell me. There isn’t much I haven’t heard,” he cajoled, his voice as soft as sand disguising a sinkhole. She looked at the brown eyes and fell in. “Well, it’s nothing, really. Just a phone call.” One brow twitched, and he set down his glass. “Tell me. What kind of call?” She sat down at the end of the sofa and motioned for him to sit in the easy chair across from her. She shrugged. “Just an obscene call, really. A man, saying he’ll be my friend.” “Do you remember his exact words?” As if she would forget. She nodded and recited the call, word for word. “What calling card is he talking about?” “A playing card. The ace of hearts, with a hole in the middle. It was taped to my door when I got home.” “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” His voice was still soft, but an edge of concern had crept in. “What difference would it have made? It was just a prank.” She held her glass of tea in both hands, thankful to have something to hold. Rick leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “What difference does it make? A lot, prank or no prank. This puts a whole new spin on things.” “What do you mean?” “We could’ve gone into personal security. How not to be a victim on the street or while you’re traveling, that kind of thing. Did you call the police?” “Yes, for all the good it did. A young cop with an attitude told me he would file a report. Like he would be doing me a favor to do that much.” “Don’t be too hard on them. They make fifteen dollars an hour, doing the best they can on a thankless job. Very few of them could afford this place.” His defense of the police touched a raw spot, and the criticism against her she heard in his tone abraded it even more. Anger roiled up, and she struggled to keep it from surfacing, but suddenly she was on her feet in spite of herself. “So I should expect sub-standard service because they don’t make more money? I don’t think that’s how it works. And how I came by my money is none of your business.” Rick’s brows jerked, then lowered to a V. “I didn’t ask. But I speak my mind, and I don’t apologize for that. And as you obviously have no qualms about speaking your mind, you shouldn’t object to others doing the same.” “What are you talking about?” “I saw you on TV, too. What you’ve done for the kids in a short space of time is admirable, it really is, but you obviously haven’t been here long enough to know that your two-minute speech rocked a lot of boats.” “Rocked boats? Well, maybe some boats around here need rocking. You’re right—I haven’t been here very long, but I brought a whole lot more to that town hall meeting than you’ll ever know.” “I’m not sure what I said to set you off, but now that we’re on the subject, do you want to listen to what I have to say, or are you going to throw me out?” More than anything in the world she wanted to throw him out. She wanted to tell him that it would be a cold day in hell before Marshall Security saw any of her money. She wanted never to see him again, never to drown in those dark eyes, but something held her back. “Say what’s on your mind, then leave.” “As I said, you’re helping the kids, and that’s great. But they’re only a small part of the population here. This place isn’t touted as a retirement community, but it’s damn close to being one. Real estate is cheap and the cost of living is low.” “You think I don’t know that?” “What I’m saying is that there’re a lot of folks in Aces who might not take kindly to a young woman coming here and telling the police how to do their job.” “I wasn’t telling the police how do to their job, though somebody really should. I was simply proposing a way to save lives. Isn’t that part of their job?” Rick shook his head. “You’re playing with fire, Miss Dawes, and you shouldn’t be surprised to get a little singed. I’m actually amazed that you got only one nasty phone call.” Devon shot her eyes at the ceiling, then back at him. “This is unbelievable. I’m only trying to help people, for God’s sake. And you aren’t suggesting that some angry retiree made that phone call, are you?” “Change doesn’t come without a price.” Swift thoughts of the price she had already paid for change flooded her mind, and she fought to keep the tears that were already starting to burn her eyes from spilling. “Do you still want my help?” The low voice had softened again. No! “I don’t know.” “I’ll mail my proposals. The price’ll be fair, and if you want Marsh to do the work, that can be arranged. Here’s my card. My home number and pager number are on the back if you need anything...or if you just want to talk.” He flicked the card, sending it tumbling to the end table, turned, and strode out the front door, clicking it shut behind him. She waited, and after a few seconds that seemed like an hour, heard the Wrangler’s engine roar to life, followed by the screech of angry tires that spun too fast to grip the gravel road. Devon fell back on the sofa, closed her eyes, and held her head, which was spinning at a speed to match the Jeep’s tires. She couldn’t go back to work like this. She needed to get some sleep. With a sigh, she got up and called Laurie, explaining that she didn’t feel good and would be taking the rest of the day off. She finished with her habitual “hit me on the box” and hung up the phone. She had no doubt that Laurie’s imagination was formulating all sorts of scenarios involving her, Rick, and a king-sized bed. *** Rick was in no mood to return to his office, either. He pulled up at the stoplight at Cattleman Drive, and had thirty seconds to make his decision. When the light glowed green, he swung the little Jeep west toward the highway instead of right toward Coyote Lane. The driver’s plastic window was unzipped, and he turned up the volume on the stereo, bombarding his senses with wind, heat, and sound, hoping they would stampede all thoughts he had of Miss Devon Dawes. For a little while it worked. He leaned back, relaxed, and let the high desert take him. The sky through his windshield was a clear and pure as a canyon stream, and the low mountains that embraced the highway on either side soothed him, as they always did. Too soon, he pulled into Copper Creek and angled the Jeep to a stop in front of the Song Dog Saloon, his favorite out-of-the-way place for a hot burger and a cold beer. He sat at the end of the long bar and let the cool air of the dim interior wash over him. Lazy ceiling fans twirled overhead, and though it was noon, the crowd, a strange mixture of tourists and locals, was small and unobtrusive. “Hey, Rick,” acknowledged the proprietor, a man known simply as Will Burn, who had run the Song Dog without change for the past thirty-five years. “The usual?” “Sure.” The ‘usual’ was an inch-thick burger, topped with thick slabs of onion, tomato, and a hot sauce that was Will’s specialty and not easily forgotten. “How’s business?” Rick asked when Will slid the burger plate toward him. “Another day in the mines, Rick, another day in the mines.” Rick responded with an easy grin. Will’s answer was always the same, and had been ever since Rick had met the man four years ago. It was nice to know that some things never changed. But the question and the thought about change had opened the door, and thoughts of Devon stole in to break his relaxed mood. He had known lots of women like her over his career—women who thought they knew it all and wanted to change the world. Why had this particular female gotten under his skin? He took a big bite of his burger and washed it down with a swig of Coors. He had caught the latter part of her TV appearance on the local news, and in one minute she had made more of an impression on him than people he saw on the tube every day. Smart, too. She had made a success of Aces Youth Center in less than a year. In person she was even better looking than on TV. The clingy knit dress she had worn had all too perfectly displayed curves that would make any male hot. Hell, she was beautiful, with thick spice colored hair that teased with the promise of heat, and skin that begged to be touched. But those blue-green eyes under spiky dark lashes had been cold as ice, and the stance she assumed did nothing to warm those eyes. Her attitude spelled trouble. Not that her televised proposal had particularly angered him. Ten years ago, maybe, but he had heard it too many times since. No, her commentary that “police need to stop acting like cowboys engaging in gun battles and deadly chases without regard for citizen safety” had merely turned off his appreciation of her more obvious assets and sent up a warning flag that this was a female to be avoided. He had tried to heed that warning—had tried to coax Marsh into doing her survey, but Marsh had been booked this morning. Rick had even managed to be civil, until Miss Dawes had made that crack about Aces PD. He was glad he hadn’t apologized. He had nothing to apologize for. She was the one who had gone off. She was young, still in her twenties by her fresh-faced good looks, but obviously without money worries. She had the resources to keep a non-profit organization going as well as to enjoy a new car and fancy house. An inheritance, probably. Hell, maybe she had won the lottery. But what he couldn’t figure out was why he had given her his card with his personal numbers hand written on the back. It bothered him for the rest of the afternoon. |