And the hunger quieted, satisfied for the moment.
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Early morning sunlight tickled Nicole's eyes. She squeezed them tight, but the call of a new day would not be silenced. She cracked her eyes open. As her gaze locked with Malcolm's, she had a discomforting sense of déjà vu.
He lay on his side, the sheet pulled only to his hips, leaving his well-sculpted chest bare to her fascinated gaze. His head was propped on his arm. He extended his other hand to cover her lips with his index finger.
“Let's try revising the script,” Malcolm suggested in a husky morning voice. His smile contrasted with the wary look in his cocoa eyes. “I think our last morning-after scene left a bit to be desired. Let's try another take. How 'bout you start the scene with, âGood morning, Mal.' And maybe add, âYou were fantastic last night.'”
Malcolm's wicked chuckle held a hint of uncertainty that relaxed the tension Nicole hadn't realized she held. Knowing he was as nervous about this morning as she had been upon awakening put her at ease and appealed to the imp in her.
Nicole licked the finger Malcolm had rested on her lips. Heat flared in his eyes as he moved his finger away.
“Good morning, Mal,” she parroted obediently. Then she grinned. “I was fantastic last night. And you were pretty okay, too.”
Malcolm's eyebrows arched. “Pretty okay?”
Nicole shrugged, struggling to hold back her laughter. “Yeah.”
Malcolm's eyes glinted, and his lips curved. He rolled on top of Nicole and pressed his hips into hers. His morning arousal melted her.
“Will you give me a chance to try again?” he murmured into her neck.
Nicole shivered. “You're always welcome to try.”
Â
Later that morning, Nicole parked a couple of blocks away from the beach. The thought of running in circles around Malcolm's neighborhood hadn't appealed to her. She'd run enough circles in her mind: Could she reconcile with her ex-husband? Would the second time around be any better? Or should they just be friends? Their on-again, off-again relationship was driving Nicole crazy. She needed a straight path on which to travel from point A to point B. The jogging trail leading from Manhattan Beach to Hermosa Beach seemed the perfect solution.
At least it had seemed a perfect solution to her. Malcolm had not been happy with the idea. But he'd reluctantly accepted her decision after she pointed out that the trail paralleled a residential neighborhood and was visible from the streets on either side. It also had a lot of foot traffic from walkers and joggers. He'd admitted none of that had changed in the past four years.
She locked her rental car and set a brisk pace for the trail. She had fond memories of the path. She and Malcolm had run there often when they'd first moved to Los Angeles. The packed earth and wood chips were easy on the knees. Trees and evergreen bushes bordered the trail and scented the air.
She looked forward to the run, to the distance she could put between herself and the feelings that had assailed her last night and earlier this morning. She'd felt as though she'd been jettisoned back to the time when she and Malcolm were still happily married. It was a disturbing feeling, but what had troubled her the most was her wish that it could be that easy. That she could just cook a meal and save her marriage.
Nicole snorted at the thought. She looked around, embarrassed to realize she had made the noise aloud. Luckily, no one was near enough to hear her. Pedestrian traffic was minimal at this time on a Thursday morning.
Although, there was one person a few yards ahead of her. With baggy sweats and an oversized hooded jacket, it was difficult to tell the person's gender. She thought the stranger might be a young man. In any event, he hadn't reacted to her snort of disgust.
The stranger was stretching next to his silver BMW as though he were also preparing to go jogging. In his worn, torn sweats, he looked incongruous next to the expensive luxury vehicle. For a fleeting moment, Nicole wondered if he were stealing the car. She glanced at him again. Surely he wouldn't be so casual about committing grand theft of an auto in broad daylight.
Deciding caution was the better part of valor, Nicole glued her attention to the sidewalk and maintained a steady pace as she walked past the young man. If he were a car thief, she didn't want him to think she was a witness to his crime. The trail was just one block away. Once she reached it, she would put this incident behind her.
Arriving at the trail, Nicole set the timer on her athletic watch. She paused, an uncomfortable sensation stirring the hairs on the back of her neck. She turned and saw the stranger across the street from her. With his head bent, the hood of his jacket covered the top part of his face and cast the rest in shadows. It gave him a sinister anonymity. Nicole forced herself to shrug off her discomfort. She activated her stopwatch and started jogging at an easy pace.
After several strides, Nicole glanced over her shoulder and saw the stranger jogging a couple of yards behind her. She faced forward and continued on, but her concern grew.
Normally while jogging, Nicole allowed her mind to wander. She plotted her books or made to-do lists. But today, the scent of the pines around her and the cushion of the wood chips beneath her were overshadowed by the sound of the man behind her.
She was alerted instantly when his footfalls grew closer. Maintaining her stride, Nicole risked another peek over her shoulder. She tensed when she realized he was gaining on her. But he hadn't moved to the side to pass her. Instead, he kept his position as though he intended to run right over her.
Nicole increased her speed, passing two well-toned, middle-aged women on her way. She grabbed her courage and checked behind her again. The stranger had increased his speed as well, maintaining a standard distance behind her.
Teetering on the fine line between concern and fear, she assessed her options. She could stop and confront him, but she had no idea if he would become violent. The only thing she had that resembled a weapon was her car key. Very small comfort. At least they weren't alone on the trail. She'd passed two women and was gaining on another couple, a man and a woman. And farther ahead were four men. Nicole could only hope the stranger wouldn't harm her in front of all these people.
But if he stayed with her for her entire jog, what would she do when she came to the end of the trail?
She could still hear the man behind her. He seemed to be having trouble controlling his breathing. Her pace appeared to be a bit too fast for him. Her panicky thoughts stuttered to a stop at that point.
As she caught up with the next couple, she nodded good morning, then passed themâhard. She strained to filter out every sound but that of the stranger stalking her. His breathing was more labored. With desperate hope, Nicole increased her speed until she was running flat out. She channeled everything she had into her legs and pumped her arms for more leverage. She concentrated on her breathing, taking deep, controlled breaths. Four counts in, hold, four counts out. She had to stay strong. She had to stay focused. She had to get herself out of this situationâon her own terms.
Ahead of her were the four well-muscled young men she'd noticed at the start of her run. She came to the end of the trail less than a minute after them. They were walking in circles, shaking out their legs, but they paused when she sped up to them. She stopped and looked around. The stranger wasn't in sight.
“You shouldn't stop so suddenly,” one of the men said with the camaraderie of a fellow runner. “You should walk it out.”
“Yes,” Nicole panted, forcing her quaking legs to keep moving. “You're right. Thank you.”
“No problem.” The young man grinned. “That was some finish.”
“Thank you. You guys had a great run, too.” Her smile was strained, her breathing labored.
The young men beamed with the pleasure of a good run and hard-worked muscles.
Nicole looked around again, shaking out her legs. Still no sign of the stranger. Her breath was coming back, but her pulse still galloped with warning.
“I wonder if I could ask a favor,” she began. “Could you walk with me to my car? It's not far. I'm just a little concerned because there was a young man parked near me, and he made me uncomfortable.”
They agreed as though embracing a new member of their running club and joined her on the short walk to her car. Nicole divided her attention between their discussion of time splits and personal records, and her curiosity about the stranger. Where had he disappeared to? Had he indeed been a threat to her?
When they passed the spot where Nicole had first seen the stranger, the silver BMW was gone.
Â
“The doctor is impressed by how well my rehabilitation is going,” Simone said.
Nicole had called to check on her cousin. She was thrilled by the improvement she could hear in Simone's voice. She sounded stronger, even stronger than the last time they'd spoken, which was the week before Nicole had moved in with Malcolm.
Simone was still in the hospital, but if she continued to improve at her current pace, she would return home shortly.
“Just make certain you don't overdo things,” Nicole cautioned. “You don't want to wear yourself out and have to start therapy all over again.”
“I know. I'll pace myself.” Simone's singsong tone gave the impression her cousin had made this promise several times to other family members.
“Good. How's Lynnie?” Nicole asked, although Derrick had assured her that as Simone's health improved, so did Lynnie's sleep patterns. Her cousin's daughter hadn't had the sad dream in weeks.
“She misses you,” Simone said. “So do I.”
Nicole experienced a yearning to be two places at the same time. “I miss you, too.”
“How's the movie coming along?”
“It's coming along just fine.” Nicole winced at her non-committal response.
Nicole, Derrick, and Simone's brother, Guy, had agreed not to tell anyone else about the threats or Tyrone's death. They didn't want to worry Aunt Rose, Simone, or especially Lynnie. They needed to focus on getting Simone well and bringing her home.
But Simone must have heard something in Nicole's tone that caused her concern. “Is everything going okay with you and Malcolm?” her cousin asked.
“Yes.” Nicole was relieved she could tell the truth this time. “Our working relationship is improving every day.”
“Then what aren't you telling me?”
“What makes you think I'm not telling you something?” Nicole asked out of curiosity and in an attempt to stall.
“I can hear it in your voice. You're measuring your words. You never do that unless you're trying really hard not to tell me something.”
“Everything's fine, Si. Please don't worry.” Nicole toyed with the phone cord.
Simone's sigh was filled with frustration. “Guy and D are measuring their words, too.”
Nicole chuckled. “What? Could it be some kind of conspiracy?”
“Yes. A conspiracy of silence.” Simone's sassiness was returning. Another good sign. “Now, tell me about this
A.M.
L.A.
interview. Can you send me a tape?”
They bantered back and forth for a while. Then, before saying good-bye, Nicole urged her cousin to get some rest.
She hated lying to Simone. They'd grown up like sisters. Nicole knew she would be terribly hurt if the situation were reversed, and Simone didn't tell her she was being threatened. But she couldn't risk causing her cousin anxiety and jeopardizing her recovery. Simone already felt guilty for bringing Malcolm back into Nicole's life, although Nicole had insisted Simone wasn't responsible for that twist of fate. That debate had dominated their conversation the last time they'd spoken.
Nicole sighed, shook her head, and rose to pour herself another cup of coffee. The steam wafted up, carrying the beans' rich, strong scent. She stirred in the milk and sweetener, then leaned against the kitchen counter for the first sip of her second cup.
She certainly wasn't going to tell Simone about her experience at the trail that morning. When she'd returned home, she'd been able to get into the shower without seeing Malcolm. He'd knocked on the bathroom door, asked if she'd had a good run, and told her he'd see her later.
Nicole had allowed the hot water to pelt out the tension and soothe her frayed nerves. Then she'd spent an hour trying to convince herself she'd overreacted. That the strange young man on the path hadn't been some weirdo plotting to hurt her. However, she couldn't shake the feeling he had meant her harm. But what could she do about it? Call the police and tell them some guy who hadn't spoken to her and hadn't touched her had scared her? Oh, and, no, she hadn't seen his face. She could just imagine their reaction to that.
Nicole turned her attention to a more productive project. She curled both hands around the warm coffee cup and padded barefoot to the sofa. She picked up the printout of the companies interested in the
InterDimensions
movie rights. Everything pointed to the movie project being at the heart of this nightmare. The list Denise had e-mailed her included the names of the production companies' contact people, phone numbers, and addresses. The list had only eight entries, but she wasn't trying to feed her ego. She was trying to find a killer.