Book Excerpt
Excerpt from A BREAK IN THE OLD ROUTINE
The woman sitting across the aisle from Sam was staring at him. He knew this because he’d been watching her surreptitiously for a couple of minutes now. He kept his gaze just to the left or right of her head or watched her in the reflection of the BART train’s windows. Her stare put him on edge at first. He never expected his voyeuristic flight of fancy to be returned, but eventually, he warmed to her stare. He looked away from her to study the BART map so that she could study him without fear of awkward eye contact.
Oddly, he’d not noticed her at first. He had no idea when she’d gotten on the train. He was slipping. This woman was worth looking it. She was no bubblegum blonde exposing lashings of bare flesh. No, this woman was striking. Strong cheekbones tapered down to a pointed chin. Tresses of raven black hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her brown eyes were so dark they were almost black. He guessed she possessed Italian or Spanish origins. She was a similar age to him, nudging forty, but she was one of those few women who exhibited ageless beauty.
This woman made quite an impression considering Sam could only see her from the shoulders up. Rows of seats and other passengers obscured his view. Even without seeing, he knew, just knew, the rest of her would be just as stunning. He hoped she got off the train before he did. It would be a tragedy not to confirm his theory.
Sam looked her way again. She was still staring. They made eye contact for the briefest of seconds. He could have acknowledged the moment by smiling, but took the coward’s way out instead and looked away.
The train passed from station to station and her gaze never left him. Sam failed to prevent a blush from slipping out. His fascination for this woman cooled. He wondered if this was some sort of revenge tactic. Maybe she’d seen him watching her and didn’t like it.
He got the message. Sorry. He meant no harm by it. It wouldn’t happen again.
When the train slowed for the Embarcadero station, Sam rose to his feet and slipped his laptop case over his shoulder. The woman stood too. He should have known she would be going his way. Fate was mean like that sometimes.
She stood next to him. He knew he shouldn’t check out the rest of her, but he couldn’t resist. He cast an admiring eye over her figure. She wore a black topcoat over a fitted business suit that showed off a waspish figure. A white, silk blouse clung to her full breasts. She’d left the top two buttons undone, exposing that vulnerable part of her throat where it hollowed. Her high heels gave her a couple of inches on Sam. Without warning, the word “goddess” popped into his head.
The train drew to a halt and a dozen people poured onto the platform from their car alone. Sam stepped off without casting a backward glance. He rode the escalator knowing she was only a person or two behind him. He pulled his ticket from his wallet as he headed toward the ticket barriers. In a few moments, he’d be free of her, on San Francisco’s streets never to be seen again. Inserting his ticket into the barrier, his hand trembled ever so slightly.“Excuse me,” the woman said from behind him.
He didn’t have to turn around to know she was calling out to him. Ignore her, ignore her, Sam thought. The ticket barrier snatched his ticket from his grasp.“Excuse me,” she said again and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He turned to her. She smiled.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Could I have a word?”
The man behind Sam moaned about being held up.
“I’ll just step through,” Sam said.
“Thanks,” she said.
He stepped through and waited for her. He shouldn’t have. He could have avoided the dressing down by walking away, but he waited. Stupid, he thought.
She slipped her ticket into her pocket and strode towards him, smiling and exposing perfect teeth. She came close, too close for strangers and placed a hand on his forearm. “I just wanted to apologize to you.”
“To me?” His dumbfounded expression was more genuine than she could ever know.
“Yes, I was staring at you. Rude, really. It’s a habit with me. I just hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” he assured her. “I noticed, but when an attractive woman checks you out, you aren’t going to complain too much.”
She laughed and squeezed his forearm. “Attractive–is that how you see me?”
Sam blushed.
“I’m sorry. I have embarrassed you. I’m doing this all wrong.”
“Doing what all wrong?”
She fumbled for the right words before giving in and said, “Trying to pick you up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I don’t go around picking up guys on BART, but it’s so hard to find the right guy these days. I’ve done the dating agency thing and the coworker thing and nothing good ever came of them. I saw you, thought you were cute, and thought, what the hell? I’m not usually this adventurous, but…”
“But what?”
“If I wasn’t mistaken, you were looking at me too.”
Sam’s body temperature soared by a hundred degrees. “Yeah, well, like I say, you are attractive.”
She beamed. “Great! You’re cute. I’m cute. Let’s go get some coffee.”
Coffee sounded good, better than good in fact, but it was out of the question. He was in San Francisco to pitch to CalBank. His ad agency was in line to land the bank’s advertising budget for the next two years.
He’d chosen to BART in rather than sit in traffic with his partners because he liked the peace and quiet of the transit system. If he was really being honest, he used BART out of superstition. Mass transit had won him his first major account. His car had broken down, so out of desperation, he’d ridden the bus to the client with his display boards taking up two bench seats, much to his fellow bus travelers’ disgust. He won the account and from then on, he traveled by public transportation to meet with his clients. He considered it his good luck charm. The last thing he needed was his routine being disturbed. He needed to be relaxed when he pitched to CalBank so that his cool manner would win them over like it had with so many other clients.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t. I have an appointment.”
“Please don’t say that. I’ve gone all out here. Don’t blow me off. Please. There’s a Tully’s just a couple of blocks from here.”
His meeting was two hours away, but he still should say no. Playful voyeurism was one thing, making contact was another. But those eyes, that sensual mouth and her vulnerable throat were so hard to resist.
“Please,” she pressed.
“Okay, yes.”
They rode the escalator to street level. She pointed at a Tully’s contained within the ground floor of an office building and led the way.
“I’m Fran, by the way.” She held out a hand.
No, last name, he thought and shook her hand. Surprisingly, for all her coolness, her palm was moist. Nervous, he thought. “Sam.”
“You work in the city, Sam?” she asked.
“No, meeting with a client.”
A woman on her cell phone shouldered the door open as she left the Tully’s. Sam caught the door and they went inside. The place was busy and Fran snagged a table in the window. He ordered a mocha for himself and a hot chocolate for her with a twenty she’d given him. He set down their drinks and sat beside her.
“What’s so important about your bag?” Fran asked.
The question knocked him off guard. “What do you mean?”
“From the way you’re clutching it, you look as though you’ve got the secret to the DaVinci Code in there.”
Sam checked himself. She was right. He was hugging his laptop case to his chest even though the shoulder strap kept it from falling. It was a totally unconscious action. Embarrassed, he released his drowning man grip on the case.
“It’s my laptop. It’s got my presentation on it. I work in advertising and I’m pitching to a new client today.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“No, it’s not all.” He hadn’t intended to sound sharp, but he couldn’t help it. On his computer was a work of art. Some might not see it that way, but advertising was an art form and he was a great artist. His ad team might be joining him, but they were window dressing. CalBank hadn’t asked for the agency to pitch to them. They’d asked for him. It was the reason he lugged the laptop around with him rather than entrust it to his colleagues. If they were late, it didn’t matter. It was all about him and his creation. He wasn’t about to let it out of his sight. It might seem selfish, but that was his rule.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did,” she conceded.
“That’s okay. I’m a little obsessive about my work. So what do you do?”
She didn’t answer.
“Fran?”
She was oblivious to him. Had he lost her already with his snippy remark?
“Earth to Fran? Come in, Fran.”
He realized she hadn’t drifted off because his company bored her. She was frozen in fear. He touched her on the shoulder. She was shaking.
“Fran, what’s wrong?”
“Do you see that man over there?” She nodded in his direction, but the movement was almost imperceptible.
Sam scanned the faces walking along Davis and California. “Which man?”
“Black hair, leather jacket, jeans, leaning against the trashcan across the street.”
It took Sam a moment to pick the guy out. He was a little older than him. Late forties, possibly. He looked pissed and he was staring directly at Sam. Marvelous, he thought.
“Who is he?”
“Garrett Burke. We used to work together for the Port of Oakland. He seemed nice, so we dated for a little bit. Things started off well enough but I realized he wasn’t for me. When I broke things off, he got nasty, made threats, even at work. I was going to leave but the Port fired him. That just made things worse. Since then, he’s been following me.”
Sam pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
Fran put a hand over his phone. “No, don’t. It’ll just make things worse.”
“You can’t keep having this freak follow you.”
“I know, but I’ve been to the police already. They won’t do anything because he hasn’t done anything.”
“Except terrorize you.”
“Yeah, but that isn’t a crime, unless he lays a hand on me.”
This sickened Sam. Okay, he understood that justice had to be balanced and everyone was innocent until proven guilty, but hell, sometimes, justice needed to pull the blindfold off and kick some butt.
“That’s why I’m in the city. My lawyer is working on a restraining order, but that takes time. I’m finalizing details.”
“Then call your lawyer.” He handed her his cell phone.
She called her lawyer and explained the situation. She listened attentively, not arguing, saying yes and no to questions Sam couldn’t hear.
“He says we should find a hotel. Do you know one close by?”
Sam thought for a second. “The Ramada Plaza on Market.”
Sam checked his watch. Just under two hours before show time. There was still more than enough of time to get Fran to the hotel and make it to CalBank’s office to decompress.
He looked over at Burke again, but he was gone. It took a moment, but Sam spotted him heading towards the coffee shop. Burke reached inside his jacket pocket and Sam saw a flash of a gun barrel against the sunlight.
“We need to go,” Sam said, helping Fran from her seat. “He’s coming this way.”
The news didn’t seem to make it through to her. There wasn’t time to explain. Sam snatched the phone from her. “He’s coming. We’ll call back,” he said into the phone, then snapped it shut. He hustled Fran out of Tully’s side door, just as Burke entered through the other.
“We’ve gotta move. He’s right behind us.”
He had her at a near jogging pace on Davis Street, but her high heels were slowing them down. Sam cast a glance back at the Tully’s. Burke had shoved his way through the crowded coffee shop and was on the street. To Sam’s relief, he hadn’t broken into a run. He just lived up to his reputation and stalked, keeping a steady distance between them.
“What did your lawyer say?” Sam asked.
“He said to get a room and stay there until he can meet up with us. He’s going to try and get a restraining order now. Oh, God, he’s right behind us.”
“Don’t look back. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Just keep walking.”
He wanted to mention the gun, but Fran was a mess. That assured demeanor he’d witnessed on BART was gone now. He wasn’t much better, but he still had a grip–just. He was in this for the long haul now. What was stopping this psycho from stalking him to CalBank? That’s right–nothing. He had to do the thinking for both of them. The Ramada Plaza was a mile away–only a few minutes walk. That didn’t give them much opportunity to lose Burke.
A cab approached them on Davis. Sam waited until the last moment to hail it. He hoped he hadn’t waited too long. Once Burke saw they were aiming for a fast getaway, he’d make his move. Luckily, the cab stopped with a screech of tires.
Sam bundled Fran inside the cab and clambered in behind her. “The Ramada Plaza Hotel,” he called out to the driver.
He turned to see Burke, his face flushed red with fury, racing towards them with his hand wrapped around the gun jammed firmly in his pocket, but it was too late. He lunged for the door handle, but missed when the cab roared away.
He and Fran both watched Burke shrink as the cab gathered speed. The color returned to Fran’s face. She smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. Thank you.”
Sam let the compliment stick but didn’t know what to do with it. He noticed the cabbie staring at them with a curious expression. Don’t ask, pal, Sam thought, don’t ask.
Their journey ended before it started when the cab driver drew up in front of the hotel. Sam handed him a ten and didn’t wait for change. A doorman held open the door and Sam guided Fran in. A desk clerk welcomed them to the hotel and Fran asked for a room.
While Fran checked in, Sam watched the entrance. Burke didn’t burst through.
The desk clerk recapped. “That’s a room for one night, double occupancy.”
Double occupancy–what was that all about? Sam shot Fran a glance. With the slightest of movements, she shook her head. This wasn’t the time or place to air their laundry.
“Luggage?” the desk clerk asked.
“It’s coming along later,” Sam answered. The desk clerk looked at them with disbelief plastered across his face. Sam didn’t blame him.
“I’m expecting someone to meet us here, a Mr. Charles Lieber,” Fran said. “Could you call us when he arrives?”
“Of course,” the desk clerk said and handed Fran her keycard. As they walked toward the elevator, he added, “Enjoy your stay Mr. and Mrs. Delco,” leaning hard on the ‘Mrs.’
“Just keep walking,” Sam said.
Fran’s hand shook so much that she couldn’t get the cardkey into the slot, so Sam opened the door to the room. The room’s air conditioning kept it several degrees cooler than comfortable, but Fran shrugged off her coat. She slumped onto the corner of the bed and broke into sobs. Sam fell to his knees to console her and hugged her close. He smelled an attractive mix of her perfume and her shampoo.
“It’s over now.” He eased her away from him. “When’s your lawyer arriving?”
“Shouldn’t be long. Within the hour, he said.”
“Good.” Sam checked his watch. Although it seemed like a lifetime, less than thirty minutes had transpired since Fran had asked for him out for coffee. He still had plenty of time to regain his cool for his meeting. Rising to his feet, he said, “I should be going.”
“Please stay.”
“You’re perfectly safe. He can’t hurt you now.”
“I know, but I feel safe with you around.”
He shouldn’t stay. This wasn’t his fight. He’d done his civic duty for the day and it was time to go. But what kind of person would he be to leave now?
“Lieber will be here within the hour?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’ll check.” She used his phone again to call. She spoke briefly to Lieber and confirmed that they’d made it to the hotel. “Yes, he’ll be here by nine.”
“Okay, I’ll stay.”
“Thank you, Sam.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I really appreciate it.”
She held the embrace for a moment longer than necessary. It was understandable. She’d had a rough morning after a rough couple of weeks. Sam wriggled himself free without embarrassing her.
He considered calling his partners, but dismissed the idea. He didn’t want them knowing about Fran. Silly really. He hadn’t committed a carnal crime, but carnal thoughts had gotten him into this. Hero or not, no one was to know about this. He tugged off the laptop case, dropped it on the bed and sank into the armchair by the window.
Fran sat back down on the bed. She leaned back, supporting herself with her hands behind her, and parted her legs a few inches. It was nothing tawdry and seemed a totally unconscious move. Sam tried to not to look, but his gaze fell on her exposed legs and the shadows cast by her skirt. She kicked off her shoes. She had pretty feet. Her toenails were painted the same shade of scarlet as her fingernails.
Was she coming on to him? No, she was relaxing, Sam told himself. He was imagining things. There was no denying he was attracted to her. Well, he could window shop all he liked, as long as he didn’t go inside to try anything on for size.
Fran glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s going to be a long forty minutes before my lawyer gets here if we sit here in silence.”
Sam groaned inside. If she made a play, the deal was off. She could wait for Lieber all by herself. He had his presentation to worry about.
“Talk to me, Sam.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything. Just take my mind off that psycho out there.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No, not really.”
“Then order something from room service. It’ll take your mind off him.”
“Good idea. Room service would be nice.”
She leaned over the dresser next to him and flicked through the leatherette binder with the menu inside. Her silk blouse tented. This afforded Sam a partial view of her breasts straining at her bra.
Keep your eyes on the road, Sam, he told himself.
Fran picked up the phone and ordered a plate of fruit and a pot of coffee. The food came swiftly enough. When it arrived, Fran slipped into the bathroom to wash up. Sam tipped the waiter and placed the tray on the table. The kitchen had provided a nice assortment of fruit including cantaloupe, pineapple slices, and berries. Returning to the room, Fran took a paring knife and removed the skin from the cantaloupe. Juice ran down her hand and wrist. She jerked her hand to her mouth to stop the juice from flowing down her arm.
Sam stood. “I really should be going. Your lawyer’s going to be here in a few minutes and I need to be elsewhere.” “Oh please, stay. Lieber might need you as a witness or something. He might need a statement.”
“Okay.”
“Good. Now try some of this. The fruit is a lot a better than I’d expected.”
After Sam had helped himself to a few pieces of the fruit, the phone by the bed rang. Fran answered it. Lieber had arrived. She told the desk clerk to send him up.
Good, Sam thought. This would all be over in a few minutes.
When Lieber knocked on the door, Fran opened it. Lieber was a narrow pole of a man with a nervous look on his face. Concern for his client, Sam surmised, until the gun appeared–not in Lieber’s hand, but in Burke’s. He emerged from a blind spot in the hall and shoved Lieber into the room, sending him crashing to the floor. Sam knew he should have chosen a hotel further away. It wouldn’t have been hard for Burke to keep pace with the cab, even on foot. He’d lain in wait for them to come out, but had struck it lucky when Lieber came in asking for Fran. Burke kicked the door shut.
“Isn’t this cozy?’ he snarled…
