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I’m glad he didn’t make a big deal about the incident. See I can’t even think the words; attack, kidnapping, or mugging. And because of that, I couldn’t let it go.
    “Yes, actually I do. Can you ask Devon to trace my cell phone?” I wasn’t really going back on my word to Maloran. I wouldn’t be personally involved. No harm in just having Devon check. “I lost it last night and I want to see if anyone’s using it. Tell him that I lost it about 10:30 . He is to report to me or Ottie only, okay?”
    “Sure, I’ll call him now and I’ll order you a new one. YOU take care of yourself and get some rest.” Kim is a nurturer; she really takes care of Ottie and me.
    “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hit the end button and set the phone down by the fridge, but my hand wouldn’t release it. A shiver went down my spine as sweat broke out on my forehead.
    The man on the phone knew my full name. Nobody knows my middle name —nobody who’s alive, anyway. I hate the name Marietta ; I use the initial M. Even my birth certificate just has the letter M for a middle name. Nobody at the agency knows it. Even Alan doesn’t know it.
    Dad thought it was funny. Since he owned a detective agency, he wanted to keep people guessing. It’s become a joke, everyone tried to guess.
    I had millions of questions, but I wasn’t likely to get any answers tonight. I managed to relay a message from my brain to my fingers, ordering them to let go of the phone. My mouth was dry. So I didn’t think. I just grabbed a cold Yuengling from the fridge and headed for the stairs.
     
     

Chapter 4
     
    Needs Met
     
    As I rounded the bed on my way to the bathroom, I squeezed Alan’s toes. He’d taken his usual spot, with book in hand. I love the way he looks when he lounges in bed. He’d taken his shirt off and as he adjusted his pillows I could see his stomach muscles tighten and ripple. He hasn’t changed a bit since his college baseball days—he’s still got those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and crystal-blue eyes peeking out from under thick lashes. His wavy, dark-blonde hair was a rumpled mess, which just made him look yummier to me. At 6'4" he’s just the right height, and his body is nice and lean since he runs regularly, but he has just enough meat on his bones to show that he’s not obsessed. I never want a man who spends more time on h is looks than I spend on mine.
    Giving him a good long look, I thought of an activity that might help me relax more than a bath.
    “Alan, I’m sorry that you were up all night. Would you like to join me in the bath? I’ll make it up to you.” I raised an eyebrow.
    “Oh. I’m exhausted, honey, and I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’ll take a rain check.” Alan raised his book back to his face, and rubbed his bruised jaw.
    Grrreeeat, now I was reminded that I hit him. Well, at least I had my Yuengling and a hot bath to help me relax.
    The steam hit me as soon as I opened the bathroom door. Ooh, that’s nice. I think of my bathroom as a personal retreat. Dennis helped me remodel it after Dad passed, and I went all out. My antique claw-foot tub is surrounded by windows so I can look out at the trees. I added oversized pedestal sinks and my great-grandmothers secretary, which sets next to the tub and serves as a vanity. Setting my beer on the pull-down desk, I got out a big terrycloth towel and undressed.
    I tested the water. It needed to be hotter—Alan was right about that. I turned on the faucet and let the steaming water trickle into the tub as I veerrry slowly slipped in. Goose bumps popped up as my skin reacted to the hot water. I stretched out and settled in, while babying my injured hand. Ahhhhh. The water felt great and began to work its magic.
    Leaning my head back against the porcelain, I concentrated on the feeling of the tiny air bubbles that slowly rose against my skin. I hadn’t realized how tense I was; it felt like my shoulders were up next