Lucky Charm (21 page)

Movement caught her eye, a darker shadow that separated from the others. Light spilled through the fluttering leaves to briefly illuminate a man. He was big, like the ones who worked for Marathon security. Another closed in from the other side. She quickened her pace, let her backpack slide down into her hand. Her overnight bag was in the other. Both men were on a path to intercept her before she reached the doors to the lobby. They’d waited patiently until she’d gone too far and couldn’t retreat to her car in time. She was in the middle of the parking lot with no place to go. It was the lobby or nothing. Fear put a metallic taste in her mouth and sent a cold shiver through her.

She bolted, sprinting hard for the welcoming lights of the hotel entrance. They hadn’t expected that apparently. They’d expected her to try to escape, to run away, maybe try to get to her car but it seemed they hadn’t expected her to try to outrun them.

Both sped up a second too late.

Headlights came on, a van or something, nearly blinding her as an engine ground to life in whining protest.

Twisting, she evaded one ensnaring hand and raced for the safety of the doors.

Tires screeched…

When she turned, there was no one there.

For a moment she stared across the parking lot listening to the retreating sound of tires and watching taillights glow.

She shook for moment.

She debated telling the desk clerk what had happened but she couldn’t describe the men well, the light had been too uncertain. Reporting it would mean calling the police, waiting for them to arrive and then telling them what happened. All she’d seen of the van had been the headlights. With no one and nothing to point to they might write her off as a hysterical woman with a vivid imagination. With a sigh, she decided not to say anything to the hotel clerk about the incident but she was grateful she had an interior room.

She practically dove into the shelter of it, shivering as a chill took her.

Turning off the air conditioning, she turned on the fan to draw the warm, muggy air inside. The curtains to the windows outside she closed. The room was on the third floor. She was safe. Rather than risk going to the restaurant so obviously alone she decided to order room service. Even then, she eyed the waiter and the hall around him through the peephole before she opened her door. It was something she’d always done anyway but now there was a real purpose to it.

The fear wouldn’t go away.

She could only pick at her food. Whatever appetite she’d had was gone. She did yoga to try to calm her rattled nerves.

What had they wanted? Was it something to do with Matthew, with whatever he was involved in
? She couldn’t imagine what she might have done to draw that kind of attention. There had been no more confrontations. The rest of the week had been quiet, with no problems. Had she gotten involved unknowingly somehow? Suddenly and intensely, she wished she could talk to Matthew but she hadn’t even the vaguest idea how to contact him. She didn’t know where he was or even how to find him. There was no way for her to reach him and no one else she could tell, no one else she could talk to. Certainly she couldn’t tell anyone at Marathon office, they were more concerned about this install going well.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was scared. For good reason, but she wasn’t used to feeling so alone, so helpless, so vulnerable. She’d have to be more careful. Maybe she could convince whoever was worried that she was harmless. Maybe then they’d leave her alone. Somehow, she didn’t think so.

It was a long night. She didn’t sleep well, waking at the slightest noise.

Breakfast she took in the hotel restaurant, scanning the cars parked near her rental car to see if there was someone in them but it didn’t seem as if there was.

Still, she was cautious when she walked out of the hotel, looking around for a van, but she reached her car unmolested. Apparently they weren’t so assertive or bold in broad daylight.

Thankful, she got on the road again, putting distance between herself and whatever had nearly happened.

In spite of the night before, she put the top down. They might have frightened her, true, but she wasn’t going to hide and she wasn’t going to deny herself the pleasure of the wind in her hair. If they followed her, they would follow her whether the top was up or not. She was going to enjoy the beautiful day.

Whoever they’d been and whatever they’d wanted, maybe she would lose them in the bustling streets of downtown New Orleans. She was looking forward to exploring the French Quarter, to having coffee and eating beignets at the Café du Monde.

To Ariel’s great relief, the drive from the hotel to New Orleans went uneventfully. Whoever those men had been – and she wasn’t entirely certain now that it hadn’t been just her overactive imagination – apparently they hadn’t followed her.

Her GPS guided her to her hotel in downtown New Orleans without a glitch. She hoped that now she’d finally left it all behind her.

It was a different city. No one, as far as she knew, even knew she was there. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going and the office thought she was headed for home. For once, she would actually be able to spend some time in one of the cities she’d always wanted to visit, instead of flying in and flying back out again. She was looking forward to strolling through the fabled French Quarter, perhaps even taking a horse-drawn carriage ride. It wouldn’t be as romantic alone, she thought wryly, but she would learn a little more about the city. She was surprised to find there was a casino across the street from her hotel. That was something she had never done, maybe she would try that, too.

Her room was surprisingly large and comfortable, with a big fluffy comforter that made no sense in light of the New Orleans heat but plenty with the air conditioning turned on high. Ariel turned it down. The room harkened back to an earlier time, although she couldn’t say what century it was they were trying to evoke. Hotel chain chic, perhaps.

Unpacking her bag, she ordered dinner from room service.

After she ate she decided to go for a walk to see New Orleans at night. Tying her hair back with a scarf, she went down to the concierge desk.

The bellman assured her that if she stayed on the street outside the hotel and stayed straight, she couldn’t get lost. Even if she did, there were many people who could direct her back to the hotel or one of the carriage drivers could bring her close enough to see it. He seemed a little amused, a little patronizing, about her concern but she would take condescending over getting lost and wandering unfamiliar streets trying to find her hotel again. That had already happened once before.

She stepped out of the hotel into the hot and humid New Orleans night. The air seemed to settle against her skin like a warm wet blanket, bringing with it the smell of water.

Downtown New Orleans was a grand display of the old and the new, more so than Birmingham, its history keeping it alive. The new was the casino, dazzlingly bright with its lights. The old were the buildings lining the street. Many of them obviously dated back to the eighteen hundreds. Some had been converted from their original purpose as homes into bars, predominantly it seemed, although there were also bead shops for Mardi Gras, t-shirt and souvenir shops, drug stores and voodoo shops.

It was a beautiful evening. There were a few faint stars barely visible in the sky through the lights and the haze. It was just warm enough to be pleasant but not to raise too much of a sweat, even with the humidity so high. Unfortunately, it would make her hair curl even more. It was a nice night for a walk, though. After so many days of sitting or standing in one place, she needed to stretch her legs a little. It felt wonderful to get those muscles moving again.

Horse-drawn carriages clip-clopped slowly past, the horse’s heads bobbing in time with the murmur of the driver’s voices as they extolled the past, the virtues and sins of New Orleans. Music of all kinds poured out of the bars every time the doors opened or exploded out of the t-shirt shops. Some of it had the unmistakable Cajun cadences but most of it was a raucous mix of everything from country western to hip-hop, especially from the t-shirt shops.

There was jazz, too, of course. The city, after all, was known for it.

A faint prickle of unease caught Ariel off guard. She frowned a little, slowing her pace as she looked around. The sense of eyes on her grew stronger, the feeling of being watched and not with good intentions. She could feel it but she couldn’t spot the watchers.

It was a relief when she reached the Square, although there was only a scattering of people around and a long row of horse-drawn carriages awaited passengers. The drivers stood in an knot, talking and smoking. There were too few people and the sense of someone watching was becoming more intense. Fear spurted through her.

A figure detached itself from beneath the shadows of a tree on the edge of the green. Tall, broad, and moving straight toward her. His path took him between her and the other people in the square. Trying to look natural, Ariel turned to glance behind her in hopes of retreating that way. There was another man just like him coming up from behind her.

A spurt of fear shot through her.

How had they found her? Had they followed her after all?

She didn’t know but she was fairly certain they were following her and the man in front of her had somehow circled ahead to cut her off. She looked across to the other corner. That man she could see clearly beneath the streetlight and in his face was everything she’d looked for and not found in Matthew’s. A hardness of expression with deep grooves engraved around his down-turned mouth and a tightness around the eyes. When he smiled, she wasn’t reassured. He smiled like a shark, all teeth and cold, blank eyes. He looked as if he contemplated something unholy and it pleased him.

All three closed on her.

Turning, she went the only way they had left to her, down the empty and darkened street beside her. She glanced back. They were still coming. For all that it was obvious to her that they were following her, they weren’t doing anything actively menacing, yet, merely keeping her in sight. Nothing that would alarm any onlookers. Their legs were longer than hers, though, and ate up the distance between them quickly.

She had no reason to run and yet she wanted to flee. Her heart pounded. She was terrified. Whatever it was they wanted, she knew by their expressions that the asking wouldn’t be pleasant.

Turning her head, she looked behind her again.

They came faster now that they were in the darkness beyond the square, with only the light of the streetlights filtering through the leaves of the trees. Closing.

Ariel broke into a run and ran into someone quite literally.

It was like running into a tree, she collided with something solid and unmovable. Someone who quickly wrapped an arm like iron around her waist, clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her into an alley. She panicked. Terrified, she struggled wildly, pushing hard against a strong, muscular chest. Something about the feel of him, or the scent, was familiar.

She looked up. Thick blond hair and familiar vivid green eyes met hers with concern and worry. Relief flooded through her and her knees went weak.

The hand was removed from her mouth.

“Matthew?” she gasped, astonished.

The three stooges, Larry, Curly and Moe, had been a little hard to miss. Matt certainly hadn’t missed them. He’d spotted them asking questions of the desk clerk in the lobby of his hotel. They, however, hadn’t seen him. Every other avenue into Marathon he’d tried had been blocked. With nothing else to go on, he decided to turn the tables and follow them for a change. Maybe they could lead him someplace interesting.

A call on a cell phone changed their direction.

Watching them, though, he was beginning to wonder if he’d been their quarry at all. Either that or they’d been called off for another target. Once he was certain of their direction, he circled around to watch.

It took a few minutes to find them again.

They were coming down the sidewalk, craning their necks. Looking for someone, following someone else. They split up. Like wolves on prey they were closing. One of them crossed the street, moving quickly close to the buildings.

He looked for the object of their attention and his heart contracted.

A pretty scarf confined the thick waves of dark hair but tendrils escaped around her face. Her short skirt fluttered in the light breeze. She looked small, neat and very feminine.

Ariel. What the hell was she doing here? He’d seen her drive away. He’d thought she was safely on her way home, wherever home was.