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“You’re an excellent chauffeur.” Belle smiled as Benji turned the corner. Since she hadn’t been home for Chanel to drop off her guitar and merchandise box, she and Benji headed to Chanel and Ryan’s apartment to get the stuff.
“I enjoy driving you around. The more time I can spend with you, the better.” The yellow traffic light flicked to red, so he stopped the vehicle. “See? I magically made that light switch to give us a few extra minutes.”
She playfully popped his arm.
After Alan and Meghan’s confrontation, Belle had spent the day at the duplex. Even though Benji tried to convince Meghan to join them for lunch, then dinner, the brooding woman stayed in her room and only came out to grab a dinner plate, which she took back upstairs. If not for Pepperoni, Belle would’ve stayed overnight with him, but she had to feed her cat.
An eerie chill crept down her spine as he pulled into the parking lot. Her heart slammed. “What the hell? Benji, stop the truck.”
He parked in a vacant spot near her little green bug. “What is it?”
“My car. Someone trashed my fucking car.” She jumped from the cab and hurried across the shadowy lot. Air puffed white from her mouth as she heaved.
A streetlight cast a dim glow across the shattered back windshield, four slashed tires, and broken taillight casings of her car. Someone had even keyed the doors.
Benji grabbed her arm. “Careful.”
Fear clutched her in a stranglehold. “The guy who left the photos did this. I’m sure of it.” She walked from one side of the vehicle to the other, stepping over glass and plastic shards. Nausea swam in her stomach. “What does he want?”
“That’s pretty obvious.” He nodded toward the driver’s side front and rear doors. “He wants you to stop singing, or so he scrawled here.”
Belle snatched her cell from her purse, smashed a button on the screen, and lifted the glowing phone to the passenger side doors. As the light lit up the keyed letters, she shuddered. “The word bitch is on this side. I can’t believe this is happening.”
He stomped around the car and scowled at the nasty word.
She gazed around the lot. No one was there from what she could see, but were they really alone? Was someone lurking behind a vehicle? Perhaps watching them from a window or rooftop with a high-powered assault rifle?
Don’t panic. The cold breeze raked her skin as she dialed for help.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Hello. My name is Belle Hamlin. Someone has vandalized my car and keyed threats on the doors.”
“Are you alone, ma’am? Are you in a safe place?”
“I’m with my boyfriend, but we’re alone as far as I can tell. We’re fine. We’re at my apartment building, looking at my car.”
“I’ll contact a squad car in your area. What’s your address?”
Belle gave it before she ended the call and dropped the phone in her purse.
“Let’s wait for the cops in my truck.” Benji pulled her back across the lot.
She climbed into the still-warm cab and tried to shut the door.
He blocked it with his body. “Give me your keys. I’ll check your apartment.”
“I’ll go with you.” She scowled as he held up his hand. A determined glint lit his eyes, so she fished the keys from her purse and handed them over.
“Be back soon.” After he locked and closed the door, he jogged down the sidewalk that led toward the breezeway.
She huddled into her coat, teeth chattering. The light flashed on from beyond the glass doors of her fourth-story balcony. Her blood raced faster. Would he find someone inside? Was he fighting for his life, calling her name? She fisted her hands and rocked back and forth. How could she stay put like a safe little princess in the damn truck?
I should go up there. She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged her belly.
No, she couldn’t risk the baby. A beep echoed, and the driver’s side door swung open. She jumped back.
Benji climbed into the seat and rubbed his hands together.
Thank God! She launched over the gearshift and into his arms.
“Everything’s fine upstairs. No one broke in.” He stroked her hair and gently freed a tangle. “When we find the man behind this, I’m going to beat the hell out of him.”
Her heart soared as she returned to her seat. His steady words soothed her nerves. “I bet you would, but then I’ll have to pay for your bail after the cops arrested both of you. Try to control your temper, all right?”
“I’ll try.” He squeezed her hand and brushed his thumb across her knuckles.
Blue lights suddenly flashed across the lot, and Belle hurried back out of the truck. She waved down the crawling cruiser as Benji joined her.
After parking behind Benji’s truck, the cops left the vehicle. “Someone called about a vandalized car?” The short brunet driver pulled a notepad from a leather pouch on his belt. The name Radley was engraved on his badge.
“I did. I’m Belle Hamlin. It’s my car. Someone wrecked it.” She pointed behind the officers.
The cops walked to the car and circled it twice before speaking quietly with one another.
Officer Radley returned as his partner continued the inspection. “What time did you find your car like this?”
“About thirty minutes ago. That’s when we arrived. I’ve been at my boyfriend’s house all day.” She grasped Benji’s hand.
“All right. I need your full names and contact information, including home and mailing addresses and phone numbers.” As they gave the information, he wrote everything down.
Belle licked her dry lips. “I left home at about eight o’clock this morning. My neighbors would’ve reported this if they’d seen someone go all bat-shit crazy on my poor little car. This must’ve happened at night.”
A small smile lifted the officer’s mouth. Then he sobered. “Yes, the lighting isn’t the best in this lot. With the temperature near freezing, most people probably would’ve made a beeline for their homes, not looked around. Still, my partner is going to talk with some of your neighbors and verify.” He nodded toward the bystanders who were already watching from the breezeway and multiple landings that divided the large building in half.
Chatter rumbled from the onlookers and pierced her eardrums. How embarrassing. The flashing lights must’ve drawn them outside.
“Should I schedule for a tow now, or will you handle it in the morning?” Radley tapped his pen on the pad.
“I’ll take care of it.” Benji’s announcement drew the officer’s gaze. “I own a garage and will handle the repairs. I’ll call a friend to tow it.”
“Where’s your garage located?”
Benji supplied the address. “Will you be taking pictures of the damage?”
“No. It’s not necessary. You or Ms. Hamlin should take photos for insurance purposes, though.”
Her lover scowled and snapped his back straight.
Belle coughed, clearing her throat. Her breath puffed around her face. “Last Thursday, I found a packet of pictures on my car.” She pulled the thick envelope from her purse. “Someone was following me and left it on my windshield. The security cameras at my doctor’s office may have caught the person on film.”
The officer took the envelope, riffled through a few snapshots, and read the note. His gloved hands protected the photos from his fingerprints. “Someone marked out your face and wants you to stop singing, huh? The same demand is on your car.”
She nodded. “I’m a musician. On the Monday before that, someone showed up on my doorstep when it was still dark. Benji answered the door, and the man ran off.”
Radley dropped the envelope into a plastic baggie that he’d pulled from his pocket. Then he scribbled on the bag, marking it as evidence. “I’ll file the report, and a detective will contact you tomorrow. If you have a stalker, you need to be careful. It wouldn’t hurt to stop singing.”
“No damn way.” Heat flashed through her, fighting the chill. “Someone wants to destroy my career. I’d rather rot in hell than let him.”
“Your choice, ma’am. Have a good night.” Radley pivoted and joined his partner and the bystanders across the lot.
She fisted her hands. “They’re not gonna do a damn thing.”
Benji shrugged. “Street cops can’t do much anyway. It’s the responsibility of the detective to find the culprit. If not for the other two incidents, Radley probably wouldn’t even hand this over to a detective.”
“I didn’t have time to tell him about my list.”
“Tell the detective. He might care.” Benji pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve dealt with smug cops and parole officers for years—it’s a drawback from hiring ex-cons. Radley is right about one thing, though. We should take pictures and call your insurance agent in the morning.”
She fished her phone back out of her purse. “I’ll take the pictures now, but I’ll probably have to take more later. It’s so dark out here.” They walked back to her car, and she snapped a dozen shots. After the police left and the onlookers returned to their homes, she and Benji picked up the broken bulbs and casings.
“Belle, I’m staying the night.” His tone brooked no argument. “I should be here when the tow truck comes anyway. It pays to have a grease monkey for a boyfriend, right?”
“Definitely. The last mechanic I went to ripped me off, so you’re now my go-to guy.” She hugged him. His wool coat chafed her nose, but she buried her face deeper against the fabric. Ooh, much better. The stench of cigarette smoke had faded. They were alone, finally. Bring on the moping. “I’d probably be a crying, raving mess if you hadn’t been here to calm me down.”
Benji laughed gently. “You were keeping me calm, babe. I wanted to snap Radley’s head off. This vandalism and stalker case should be his top priority.”
“Alas, I’m not world-famous or rich enough for special treatment.” This wonderful man amazed her. How could she be so lucky to have him in her life? “Let’s get my stuff and head upstairs. I’m sure Pepperoni is desperate for dinner.”
He tightened his grip around her before she could back away. “I’ll do whatever I can to protect you and the baby.”
She snuggled closer. He would. No doubt about it. But would she lose him in the showdown sure to come?
****
Benji ushered Belle inside the garage. An alarm blared, the shrillness barely a buzz to his ears after so many years. He keyed in the password on a wall-mounted security panel, silenced the alarm, and locked the door. The comforting aroma of rubber, grease, and flower-scented air freshener filled his nostrils. After he flipped a few switches, the overhead lights blinked then flashed on in the lobby.
“I usually arrive early to catch up on paperwork.” He stuffed the keys in his jeans pocket. “Ollie should get here soon, but we don’t open for customers for about an hour.”
She rubbed her arms, shivering. “I’m surprised the tow truck guy didn’t charge us.”
He turned up the thermostat. “So am I, especially since I got him out of bed at an ungodly hour. I’ll probably give him a free oil change or something the next time he stops in.” Heat churned through several ducts as he shrugged off his coat.
“Nice.” She lifted her face toward a ceiling vent as warm air blew and swept her hair across her face.
His friend had dropped off the vehicle before Benji and Belle arrived at the garage. Since Meghan hadn’t answered the house phone the previous night or that morning, he made a pit stop at the duplex, which was empty. The trip wasn’t a total waste, though. He’d changed into his work clothes, saving his jeans and sweater from a greasy makeover.
“Are you all right?” She grasped his hand. “Thinking about Meghan?”
“Yeah. I wanted her to go, but not like that. She should’ve given me a number where I could reach her, but of course, she just left, disappearing into the night like she always did. God, she probably did it to punish me, to make me worry about her.”
“At least she didn’t steal much. Only a few bottles of alcohol and some food.” Belle tsked. “Do you want to file a Missing Person report?”
“Nah. It’s not like she’s a scared, foolish teenager who’s running away from home. The police wouldn’t care about a runaway junkie in recovery anyway. After dealing with the bored Officer Radley, I’m not eager to waste my time with the cops again.”
“Then it’s a good thing a detective is gonna call me today, not you.”
“Agreed.” He squeezed her hand lightly before releasing it and stomped into the office. Tension shot through his upper back. Goddamn you, Meghan. I will not worry myself into an early grave as Dad did.
Tough words, if only he could follow through. He powered up his computer as Belle followed him in. “You sure you don’t want me to pay the deductible?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m already dipping into my savings for my doctor’s appointments. Another check won’t bleed me dry. Not yet, anyhow.”
“Fine, but I’ll send the rest of the bill to the insurance company.”
“Damn right. I pay Tintz every year for a reason.”
He smirked. “After I order a windshield and two taillights, I’ll inspect the car. I can’t do anything about the paint job. A body shop friend of mine can take care of it—I’ll call him later—but depending on his schedule, you might have to wait a week.”
She grimaced. “Great. Driving my car with the word Bitch scrawled on the side will be a blast.”
“Either that, or I’ll continue to serve as your most devoted chauffeur.” He added a formal note to his voice and winked at her. “Or you could drive my truck while I’m stuck here at work.”
“You’d let me drive that big-ass monster out there?” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the lot. As he nodded, a smile bloomed across her face. “Wow. You do trust me. Most men are crazy possessive over their trucks.”
He laughed, then yawned. Exhaustion weighed his eyelids like rocks. What he wouldn’t do for a catnap.
“I like you being my chauffeur, but I have no place to go except for work.” A buzz echoed from her purse. She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. “Hello?” After she mouthed It’s the detective, she left the office.
Benji ordered the needed parts online, scheduling rush delivery for later in the day. Belle’s deep, frustration-heavy voice echoed from the other room, and he winced. She’s gonna blow. He hurried into the lobby.
“You can’t be serious?” Belle paced in the waiting area and tossed her coat on a chair. Her mouth opened, snapped shut. She lifted her hand toward him, shaking her head, and pivoted the other way.
He sighed and veered toward the rows of shelving units across the room. He’d restocked the tire, hubcap, and snow chain selection the week prior, so he grabbed the proper size tires for Belle’s car and set them aside. Then he plucked a box from an upper shelf—the best set of chains he had for sale—and returned to the office. The box thudded on the desk as he plopped into his chair.
Belle stomped in and hung her purse and coat on a hook by the door. “That was Detective Greer from the 2nd Precinct. I explained everything, and he promised to contact Dr. Burel about the security cameras. Since she’s the chief medical officer in charge of the clinic, he has to go through her.”
“That’s what we wanted.”
“Yeah, but I hope it doesn’t piss her off. I don’t want to find a new doctor.” She pursed her lips as though she sucked on a lemon. “Anyway, he doubts he can do much unless the cameras caught the person delivering the photos, and only then if I can identify him. Or her. If I give Greer a name, he’ll bring the person in for questioning. Still, my asshole stalker will have to admit to the other incidents, or we only have him on one misdemeanor charge.”
“Which is?” He drummed his hands on his stomach. This wasn’t gonna be good.
“Stalking. Leaving a package on a windshield isn’t illegal, but we can interpret the X’s on my face and the note two ways—a threat or a harmless prank. If it’s deemed a prank and Greer or someone catches the guy, we got him for stalking. If he admits to the other acts, the courts will charge him with vandalism, which is also a misdemeanor.”
His heart skipped a beat. “That’s a slap on the wrist. Community service or a few months in County, at best.”
“If it’s a threat, we’ll have to prove it. More vandalism and notes will do the trick.”
“Fucking hell.” He launched to his feet and knocked the chair back against the paneled wall. A few framed awards and certificates rattled. “What does Greer want to take this seriously? For you to wind up in the hospital?”
She blanched and stumbled back.
Damn it, man. Keep it together. He hurried around the desk and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Benji.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Are we destined for bad luck?”
“I hope not. As long as we’re together, nothing else matters. Except for your well-being, of course. Maybe you should cancel your upcoming performances. It’s not worth your life.” The following words on his tongue froze as she peered up at him. The sadness blazing in her eyes tore through his heart.
“If I asked you not to come into work for six months, could you do it? Could you handle not working on cars, denying what makes you happy, what completes you?”
“No, I’d go stir-crazy.” He would have to shut down the business. He’d lose his customers, employees, and the hard-earned respect and reputation he and his father had fought for all their lives. No one, not even Belle, would take away his dream.
“We’re a lot alike. My music is like your ability to fix engines. We love it; we need it. Don’t ask me to deny who I am.”
If he demanded this, he would lose her. The truth of it flashed behind the tears in her eyes.
“Okay, no more talk about this.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “We need a game plan for how to deal with our panicky friends.”
“What? Who’s about to panic?”
“Mason. He’ll see your car and will tell Mia. After Greer contacts Dr. Burel, Ryan might find out about the pictures. That will freak out Chanel.”
Belle winced. “Crap. You’re right. We have to tell them about my stalker.”
“Yep.” The lobby door squeaked open, and he glanced through the office doorway as his assistant manager let himself in. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you to Ollie. I’m pretty sure he’ll remember you. It’s not every day a woman barges in here and smacks me with roses.”
She smiled at the rose-filled exhaust tube on his desk. “That’s creative. At least the flowers didn’t wind up in the trash.”
“The guys are getting a kick out of it.”
“I can imagine.” She fluffed out her blouse and swiped her hand across her hair, taming a few wayward locks. “Introduce me to your crew. I’m sure I’ll be hanging around here now and then, so I should get buddy-buddy with them.”
He grinned. So many of his past girlfriends had scorned the garage like they were above the work he did. Why had he wasted his time with them?
Belle was a breath of fresh air. His dreams—his father’s dreams—mattered to her. He wasn’t wealthy by any means, but the business did well enough that he could spoil her a little. But she didn’t want that. She accepted him for who he was, not for what he could give her.
He drew her in for a kiss. “I’m a lucky man, Belle. Very lucky, indeed.”