Double Take. Leigh Riker

ring, her gaze darted to the phone. Emerald startled, too, then froze. Her carefully made-up face paled.

      “Please. Answer.”

      On the third ring Cameron caught up the receiver, feeling even more uneasy when the caller spoke. His vicious tone made her pulse lurch, her stomach tighten.

      “Listen, bitch. I’ve had enough. You tell me what I want to hear, or else… I’m coming after you. Understand?”

      He hung up before Cameron could hand the phone to Emerald.

      Stunned by the violence in the man’s gravelly voice, which sounded mechanically altered, she slowly replaced the receiver then turned to Emerald. For an instant, Cameron had feared the call might be for her. But who would call her here? Unless Ransom wanted to frighten her into accepting his unnecessary protection.

      Emerald asked, “What did he say this time?”

      By the shocked look on her face and her words, she had heard from this man before. Edgar Mills?

      Cameron repeated the message then watched Emerald’s face turn even whiter.

      “He’s phoned every night for the past week. I can’t imagine why, except that my engagement to Ted was made public right before the calls began.”

      “Did you tell the police?”

      Emerald moved stiffly toward the bar again. She filled her glass and drank half the wine down in a single swallow then topped off the glass. And confirmed what Ransom had said earlier.

      “I’ve told them. It never helped.”

      “But surely if you—”

      “I am not phoning the police. They’ll say the same thing they did before—that unless the man physically confronts me, which they consider ‘unlikely,’ there’s little they can do. And they’re probably right. I already have a restraining order.”

      Cameron’s pulse was still racing, hard. Now she understood why Emerald would stay home alone at night, why she didn’t appear to have friends. Maybe she never knew who to trust, a familiar feeling for Cameron, too. Emerald tried again to defuse the call’s importance.

      “The man is a rabid fan…one of the type that always feel they own you. It’s possible my coming marriage has upset him.”

      “And he wants you to say the engagement is off.”

      But then, why such threatening words—even though he hadn’t mentioned murder? Emerald finished her wine. She had more color in her face now, but the topic was obviously closed. “Thank you for staying, for talking.”

      “I can stay longer if you like. Or call Grace for you. And Ron.”

      “No, I’m fine. It’s foolish to allow someone like that to upset me.”

      Forcing a smile, she walked to the door of the den, and taking her cue that it was time to leave, Cameron followed her. She hesitated then reached out to touch Emerald’s forearm in comfort. She felt hard muscle under quivering flesh.

      “You’re sure…?”

      Emerald didn’t answer. She pulled away.

      “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Ah, she was being dismissed—and put back in her place.

      But Cameron couldn’t as easily ignore the threat she’d heard.

      I’m coming after you…

      A fan—perhaps Edgar Mills again—who had become unhinged but posed no real danger to Emerald?

      Cameron didn’t know.

      But all the way down in the elevator to the street, the words reminded her of Venuto Destina’s vow of revenge. Of her father. And of Ransom’s caution.

      With her heart still in her throat, she walked out into the night.

      You’re in danger. You’re next.

      She couldn’t shake the feeling. If Ransom had been right, which she doubted, it seemed she wasn’t alone.

      Emerald Greer didn’t have friends. But she did have enemies.

      THE DARKNESS SWALLOWED Cameron up. The feeling of menace followed her home.

      Even the blast of taxi horns, of people laughing in the doorways of restaurants and bars, made her skin twitch and her senses buzz. If Ransom was behind her, somewhere in the darkness, he was a darn good tail. She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t even smell that subtle scent of his aftershave.

      If he was there, as she assumed, maybe it wasn’t such a terrible thing tonight.

      Should she stop, turn around, tell Ransom about Emerald’s caller?

      No, that was a matter for the NYPD. And his friend Gabe.

      She didn’t want Ransom trailing her, she reminded herself. She didn’t want him in her life, except to find James’s killer.

      As for the missing money and Emerald’s telephone threat…

      None of that related to Cameron.

      Why feel so spooked, then?

      It was Ransom’s fault, she decided, key clutched tightly out of habit in her hand when she left the blackness of night and prepared to step out of the shadows near her building. Just a few paces more and she’d be in the light. Inside, with her doors locked and the dead bolt thrown. Maybe she’d toss the covers over her head tonight.

      Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she sensed movement.

      “Ransom!” she cried out.

      That quickly, a hand had touched her shoulder. She froze, heart lurching into high gear, as if it would reach a thousand beats per minute, her pulse throbbing in her injured fingers.

      Cameron tried to wrench away. But in the next second, she learned it wasn’t Ransom.

      The man behind her tightened his grip on her shoulder and she screamed.

      Chapter Three

      “Hey,” the man growled, “take it easy.”

      That first voice in the darkness had barely spoken, his mouth close to her ear, before a second, deeper voice shattered the still night. “Let her go, dammit!”

      Ransom barged out of the shadows, hauled the other man’s grip from her shoulder and then spun him around.

      Cocking one fist, he slammed it into her assailant’s jaw. Cameron heard the sickening sound of flesh hitting bone. The small package the other man had been carrying dropped to the pavement. And her gaze jerked upward.

      In the darkness she made out a set of features that set her pulse skittering: a square jaw, a generous mouth, shadowed eyes glittering with anger. She saw a mop of dark hair above a wide forehead. He reeled back, staggering, a hand to his head.

      He had a wide forehead, like her father’s.

      Cameron froze in shock. It couldn’t be…

      When his fist balled for a retaliatory blow at Ransom, she quickly stepped between the two men.

      “Wait!” She shoved at Ransom’s chest. It felt like granite under her hands. “Stand back and listen. Both of you.” She glared into his heated dark gaze, shielding the man behind her, as if she could. He’d always been bigger than she was, and he towered over her now. But Cameron had no doubts. “This is my brother,” she said, slowly and carefully so Ransom would understand through the red haze of his own fury. Then she turned. Blood trickled from the corner of the other man’s mouth.

      “Kyle, you’re bleeding.”

      Even bloodied, he looked good to her. She’d never thought to see him again. For a second, his betrayal of her family years ago—their family—flashed through her