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Red-Hot & Reckless

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2019
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“Maybe she spent the night at a friend’s place.”

“Two nights ago,” her mother said. “We haven’t seen her for two nights. Do you think I would call if it was only one? She’s never stayed away two nights in a row before.”

And there was a time when she hadn’t stayed out one, but lately it had been a regular occurrence. One night had certainly been nothing to write home about, and definitely nothing to warrant calling her ex-cop brother to look for her.

But two nights…

Alex stretched his neck and walked to the bed, pressing his hand against the imprint of where Nicole’s body had been. Still warm from her body heat.

“Ma, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But—”

“I’ll check around for you if it will make you and Dad feel better.”

“Oh, thank you, agapemou, thank you.”

Alex punched the disconnect button then tossed the phone across the empty bed.

Athena was twenty-eight, no longer a child, and the only reason she still lived at home was because their parents wanted it that way. It was traditional in Greek culture that children lived at home until they married. And since Alex hadn’t taken that route, it made Athena’s situation doubly difficult. But while her mailing address might still be the Tudor-style house in Astoria, more and more often she stayed with one of her girlfriends in Manhattan, nearer to where she worked in Little Italy. The way he figured it, his parents should be happy she came home at all, considering the way they rode her. It was easy for him to avoid the “when are you getting married?”, “when are you going to settle down?”, “when are you going to get a real job?”, “when are you going to continue the family name?” questions. He didn’t have to see his parents nearly every day. Athena, on the other hand, described nightly dinner at the Cassavetes house as hell on earth.

So she up and disappeared for a day or two. The way he saw it, she was entitled. More than likely it was a survival technique. Much needed escape to keep herself from killing their overly protective, old-world parents.

He glared at the empty coffeepot, then pulled on his shoes and reached for his coat. Despite what he’d told his mother and despite his need for caffeine, the first challenge on his list was to find Nicole Bennett.

He turned toward the door, and nearly plowed right into her.

Alex stopped dead in his tracks. There she was, smelling of morning air and looking good enough to drink. He hadn’t heard her come in, although the old door held no fewer than six locks. And he couldn’t be sure how long she’d been there, given the way she leaned against a support post, a carrying case next to her feet. It could have been a minute; it could have been ten. Hell, she could have watched him since he was startled awake by his dream.

All he knew was that he’d never been more relieved to see anyone. And he feared that his objective to catch the thief wasn’t the only motivation behind his reaction.

The sides of Nicole’s mouth turned up in a naughty, knowing smile as she lifted an extralarge cup of coffee designed to satisfy anyone’s caffeine cravings. “Thought you could use this.”

Alex squinted at her. She was wearing a long, clingy black dress; what looked like combat boots that stretched to cover her knees, laced up the front, and had clunky heels; a shear black shirt that she had tied at the waist; and dozens of silver bracelets that clinked when she moved. He shook his head, wondering where she’d gotten the clothes but afraid to ask.


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