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he’d demand his phone call and figure out what the hell was going on.
    And why these bozos thought he was stalking Lucy.

    Emmet pressed the boa over his mouth to stifle a laugh as the police car roared away.
    Did that bastard really think Lucy loved him when she belonged to Emmet?
    At least the cops had taken care of the smuck. Obviously hammerhead didn’t know where Lucy was or he would have called her to verify his story.
    A stroke of luck for him.
    Except he still had no idea where Lucy was.
    He slipped from the closet, Lucy’s boa wrapped around his neck.
    He had to find her before the cops realized they had the wrong guy.
    He grabbed his phone and sprawled on her bed, draping her underwear over him.
    “The police must have alerted Lucy,” he told his friend when he answered. “I think she left town. I need a trace on her phone.”
    “Are you sure you want to go that route?”
    “Just do it,” he said impatiently.
    His buddy made a clicking sound with his teeth. “All right. You should know something by tomorrow.”
    Emmet ended the call, then found a local reporter’s name from the newspaper on the table and called the number. A young woman named Jewel. She was probably hungry for a story.
    “I have an anonymous tip,” he said. “Police just arrested a stalker at the home of Lucy Lane.”
    “Who is this?” Jewel asked.
    “I don’t want my name mentioned, but I witnessed the arrest myself. The man’s name is Emmet Roach. He escaped prison and broke into Lucy’s house.”
    “Thanks,” Jewel said. “I appreciate the information.”
    “Good, I’m sure Miss Lane wants to know she can come home for Christmas.”
    He dropped the phone in its cradle, then closed his eyes and imagined being with Lucy.
    She’d wear the red lace teddy trimmed in white lace, the one he’d put in her stocking. He’d dress like Santa Claus and pretend to come down the chimney, then they’d strip, and he’d dribble eggnog on her belly and lick it off.
    Then they’d make love on the floor in front of the fireplace.
    Everything would be perfect. They’d get married and welcome the new year as man and wife.
    Yep, Santa was finally coming to see him this year. It was going to be a jolly, jolly Christmas and a happy new year!

Chapter Five
     
     
    Reid struggled to remain calm as he was fingerprinted, processed and tossed into jail.
    Lance was going to kill him.
    He’d seen the inside of a cell when he was a teenager, but that was half a lifetime ago when he’d been angry and rebellious.
    Now he had a business with his brother and was respected in the community. If his arrest got out, it could cause problems for their company.
    A prisoner in the next holding cell banged on the bars, ranting about aliens while two drunks in the cell next to him demolished Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall with their slurred singing.
    Reid gripped the bars and bellowed his innocence. “Give me my phone call. I’m innocent.”
    “Shut up,” the alien guy said.
    He yelled again, but no one came. Dammit, why wouldn’t they listen to him?
    Did he look like a crazed stalker?
    The tattooed skinhead in the cell with him played drums on his legs with his hands while a cross-dresser in a Mrs. Santa outfit whined in the corner, insisting he hadn’t been soliciting in front of the fancy B & B where he’d been picked up.
    It was going to be a long damn night.
    He stared at the clock and paced the cell. But as the minutes rolled into hours and midnight struck, his mind traveled down a dark path.
    If the police thought he was stalking Lucy, they had a reason. The fact that she’d rushed him away added to his anxiety.
    Come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen her leave her apartment.
    What if something had happened to her?
    He mentally reviewed the facts. She was upset after that phone call the other morning. And tonight, her clothes and shoes had been scattered all over the place as if someone had rifled through them. As if someone