Her Kind of Hero Page 7

  When Derek picked me up after work, I said as much to him. “Who holds on to a grudge that long? Heck, who waits practically twenty years to say anything at all?”

  He drove along the main road on campus at exactly the speed limit. “It isn’t rational, but the person who left you that package wasn’t rational, either.”

  “The package wasn’t mailed. How’d Mark get it here from just outside Washington, D.C.?”

  “It’s not that far to drive.”

  I looked at his handsome profile. “Do you really think Mark is a possibility?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember him very well, so I wouldn’t want to guess. Have you told the police yet?”

  “No. I don’t want to get Mark investigated based on one offhand remark that might not have meant anything. That’s not right.”

  We pulled up in front of my house. It was such a short drive that I could have walked home and usually did, but I loved riding in Derek’s car. Derek gave me a look. “They aren’t going to arrest him based on this, but it could be a valuable lead.”

  “Someone said something rude based on a stupid nonevent back at the dawn of time? That’s a lead?”

  He got out and came around to open my door. “You never know. Go ahead and call while I start on your laptop.”

  We went inside. My laptop was in the same spot, and Derek sat down on the stool while I went to the phone. The caller ID said I’d missed a call around lunchtime. I hit the button to retrieve the number and froze. That 571 number sat there, blinking ominously.

  “Van? What’s the matter?”

  I told him about the calls. “Whoever it is doesn’t say anything. I don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman, I just hear someone breathing. It’s nothing.”

  “Van.”

  “The police, I know. I’m calling, I’m calling.”

  The detective assigned to my case took down the number without sounding too disgusted over my lapse. I told her about my growing suspicions of Mark, but despite Derek raising his eyebrows at me, I made a point of explaining how old this so-called “evidence” really was. She assured me that no one was going to harass my old classmate, but Derek was right. As usual. I punched the button to end the call and turned around.

  Derek was concentrating on the results reported by the antivirus program. I watched him for a moment. He really was a gorgeous man. His hands were strong and graceful, equally at home with a keyboard as with tools. His muscular legs were spread, braced apart to keep the stool from turning while he worked.

  I walked up behind him. Rubbing such broad shoulders is a pleasure for me, but if I do say so myself, I give a pretty fine backrub. Derek seemed to enjoy it. He leaned back just enough that his back grazed the tips of my breasts. My fingers squeezed in reaction.

  “Oh, sorry, Van.”

  “Never be sorry for anything that makes me think dirty thoughts about you.”

  “When you phrase it that way, I can’t argue.” He turned around on the stool and put his hands on my waist. “Hi, honey.”

  “Hi.” I started rubbing his shoulders again. Being able to see his face was even better for me. I moved down to his biceps, and made a big deal over how it took both my hands to get around his muscle.

  He tried not to look pleased. “You keep going back to my arms.”

  “You’ve got quite a set of guns on you, what can I say.” I went back to his shoulders and his neck. “I’m just a sucker for a well-built man.”

  “You only want me for my body.”

  “How nice that such a great guy comes with this body.”

  He chuckled. I smiled back, but inside my head, I couldn’t believe it. Derek was bantering with me. I slid my hands around back and turned the massage into a hug. He returned it, moving his hands from my waist to my back.

  “Van?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I can’t fix your laptop like this.”

  “Hell with the laptop. Hug first.”

  He kissed my cheek. “Work before play.”

  I let him go, muttering dark imprecations. He only laughed and turned back to the screen.

  “Anything horrible?”

  He typed for a few minutes and frowned. “How often do you get those song lyric emails?”

  “Couple times a week.”

  “Do they have attachments?”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m not dumb enough to click on an attachment that I don’t expect.” I wandered over to my roses and took a deep sniff.

  “Is it always the same song?”

  “I don’t think so. But I have the impression that it’s always one of a handful of songs.”

  “Which songs?”

  “Derek, dear, what’s with the twenty questions? I don’t really pay attention. I’ve been getting them for more than a year and my spam filter doesn’t seem to catch them.”

  “I don’t think they’re spam, but I do think you should’ve run your antivirus program more often.”

  He sounded disturbed. I went back over to him. “What’d you find?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I think one of those attachments installed a keylogger program. That’s what this is.” He jabbed his forefinger at a particular point on the screen.

  “A what, now?”

  “Whatever you type is being recorded and transmitted back to the person who snuck the program onto your machine. Passwords, emails, web searches, everything you type with the keyboard.”

  “Holy crap, what should I do?”

  “Change all your passwords when I’m done, for starters. Do you bank online?”

  “No, I’m a Luddite. I like my checkbook.”

  “Thank goodness for small favors.” His fingers flew over the keyboard. He opened my email program’s trash folder for a look at the so-called spam. “You said you’ve been getting these for more than a year?”

  “Yeah. I guess if I had to pick a category, I’d say they were the kind of songs rink DJs play during couples skate.” I looked over his shoulder at the screen. “Yep, these are all sappy love ballads.”

  “Van, this one is not really a love song, even if they did play it at the rink.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He pointed at the screen instead of answering. I leaned in and read the lyrics. “Every breath you take, every move you… Wow. I never realized how creepy this Police song was. Wait, you don’t think—”

  Derek just looked at me.

  “Oh, no. You think these are from the stalker. But that’s insane! I’ve been getting them for a year, maybe longer, and nothing like that package has happened.”

  “I think it strains the bounds of coincidence to think the malicious program, the calls, the message of watching you and the package are entirely unrelated.” He gave me a quick one-armed hug.

  I stood close to him, wanting the comfort of his solid presence. He started typing again. “Can we figure out where they came from?”

  “The tool you can use from here to check IP addresses is too broad. It’ll tell you the city the email came from but not more precisely. Besides, I don’t want to look up the addresses here since the keylogger is still on the machine.”

  “Darn.”

  “Don’t give up so easily. I’ve got access to some programs that’ll do the trick.” He grinned at me and fished out his keys. One of his keychains was a thumb drive. He plugged it into the back of my laptop and tapped out his commands. The hard drive started spinning.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking copies of your stalker mail so I can get the details for you. There are some advantages to dating a research librarian, you know.”

  “Really.” I pressed up against his body.

  “Lots of things you can learn at a library.”

  “Show me.”

  He bent over and kissed me. It started tenderly, his lips soft and searching. I turned up the heat to show my appreciation for everything he’d done. When we broke apart, we were both breathing heavily.

  “So
now what?” I asked.

  “I think we need to turn your laptop over to the police before I delete anything. Hold on while I do one more thing.”

  I didn’t argue. I went and sat on the couch.

  Derek turned the computer off. He came over and sat next to me. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

  “It’s just really creepy.” I shivered. “I was happier thinking it was spam.”

  He reached over and rubbed my shoulders. He didn’t need to suggest the idea twice. I moved down to the floor between his knees to give him the best possible approach. He was a little tentative, and to encourage a better massage, I made comments when he was squeezing hard enough.

  “Mmm. That’s nice. Harder, please. You won’t hurt me, Der. Deeper. Oh, that’s good.” I sagged in relief when he got to the worst knots in my back.

  He shifted position. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said in a thick voice.

  I turned and looked up at him. I was about to ask if he was all right when the movement below his belt caught my attention. I smiled. “I should ask you to give me more massages.”

  “Well, you were just going on about harder and deeper. I can’t help it.”

  “Now who’s got sex on the brain?”

  “Woman, you’re going to make me crazy.”

  I wet my lips and gave him my best inviting look. He groaned. He pulled me up and into his lap. It was my turn to make a sound when I felt his hard cock against my bottom. “Kiss me, Derek. Make me forget about everything else.”

  His lips met mine with a fierce passion. My mouth opened just in time to admit his tongue. His chin felt faintly rough, with the barest hint of stubble to let me know it was the end of the day. I whimpered and tried to push even closer against his body.

  He moved his hands over my back, fingers digging into my muscles ever so slightly. I grabbed one of his arms so I could put one of his hands directly on my breast. He made a noise in the back of his throat and kissed me harder, his palm rubbing over my puckered nipple. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  I half leaned, half fell backward onto the seat of the couch. But I kept my arms where they were so I could pull him down with me.

  “Not enough room, Van,” he mumbled between kisses.

  “Sure there is. Get on top of me.”

  I loved the feel of his weight stretched out over me. While he was getting his body arranged I reached up and attacked his neck with little biting kisses, from the soft skin under his ear to the hollow of his throat. I could feel his cock getting even harder. I moaned, a long, low sound.

  “Too heavy?”

  “Never. You could never be too heavy.”

  He looked into my eyes and smiled. “Van, I—”

  “Kiss me.”

  It was like being in high school. Our kisses had all the intensity of a first affair, and his body was moving against mine with an urgency that matched my own. I felt the slow heat building in the pit of my stomach.

  He slid his forearm under my neck and pushed himself up just enough to get his hand under my shirt and bra. I cried out when his fingers reached my nipple. He put his lips on my ear, and between his hot mouth, warm fingers and slow grind, I was so ready.

  “Mmm, Vanessa. You feel so good.”

  “I want you, Derek. Please.”

  “But…well, I…I don’t have any protection, do you?”

  “Upstairs. Let me—”

  “No,” he said in a hurry. “No, I’m starting to figure you out when we’re like this. You’re so close already.” He was rocking his hips with a slow and steady beat, thrusting against my pussy. I felt my clit tingle with each gentle shove.

  “I am, but—”

  He picked up the pace. “Don’t argue. Let me finish what I’ve started.”

  I couldn’t talk anymore. He freed his hands and braced them on the arm of the couch. He was biting his own lip in his intensity. He watched my face, and I stared back at him until his rhythm overwhelmed me. I closed my eyes and gave in.

  The sensations rolled out in waves. I rode each wave, going higher and higher, until I felt something warm, deep inside my body, break free. When I called out his name, he pressed himself hard against me until I stopped shaking.

  Then I started giggling.

  “What?”

  “Whee! Do it again!”

  “I don’t think I can.” His tone sounded rueful. I opened my eyes and looked at him. His expression was embarrassed, but I was glad to see he wasn’t as upset as he’d been on Saturday. I decided to push him a little.

  “Derek, do I disgust you?”

  The question shocked the embarrassment off his face. “What? No!”

  “What about how wet I get when you touch me? Is that gross?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So why do you get so worried when you’re wet? That’s the second time you’ve seemed really nervous after something really normal like getting off.”

  He looked thoughtful. “It seems like such a private thing. And it’s sticky.”

  I cracked up at his matter of fact tone. “I think it’s been way too long since you were with a woman, dear man.”

  “I think you’re right. Know any women who might like me?”

  I shrieked in mock rage. “There’s going to be one less in a second if you don’t take that question back! I’m first in line, mister.”

  We spent the next few minutes getting untangled and kissing. Derek went to the bathroom, and I combed my hair. I was sitting on the couch like a lady when he came out.

  “I better get on home, feed the beasts,” he said.

  “Yeah. Wish you could stay, though.”

  “Let’s just say I’m glad we moved our date up to Friday.”

  I waved goodbye from the deck.

  After dinner, I snuggled down under an afghan I’d had since high school and turned on the DVD player. I hadn’t gotten around to taking The Princess Bride out of the machine, and I didn’t care. The movie was as familiar and comfortable as the afghan. “ROUSes? I don’t believe they exist.”

  The phone rang just as I was getting into the movie. The caller ID said it was Derek. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey, Van,” said Derek. “Thought you’d like to know what I found when I checked the first few IPs. Most of the ones I’ve checked so far are locations around here. But one of them came from Arlington, Virginia.”

  “Mark.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I still don’t want it to be true, but I guess I’m not really surprised.”

  “We don’t know that for sure. But it fits with what Anthony suggested.”

  I sighed. “Great.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  I did, but I knew he’d have to leave before dawn in order to take care of his animals and still get to work on time. I tried to sound tough. “Nothing’s really changed, you know. The only new thing is that now I know my spam was being sent deliberately and specifically to me. Big deal. My house is just as safe as it was last night.”

  Derek didn’t sound convinced. “Well, we’ll talk to the police tomorrow. Are all the doors locked?”

  “And the windows.”

  “Call me if anything doesn’t seem right. You can always call me, you know. 2 a.m., 7 p.m., doesn’t matter. Call me and I’ll be there.”

  He really was the sweetest man. We said our goodnights. I managed to not beg for him to come over.

  When I hung up the phone, I looked up behind the television. The curtains didn’t hang exactly straight and there was a tiny sliver of window without any coverage. I got up and dug through my junk drawer. When I sat back down, my curtains were paper clipped together.

  Chapter Seven

  Wednesday was nerve wracking because absolutely nothing happened. No diesel trucks in the alley, no calls, no packages, and because the police had my laptop, no emails. Every time the phone rang, I jumped a little. But it was always either Derek or Anthony.

  On Thursday, I was s
o tightly wound that my boss noticed. She was the kind of person who didn’t take anything seriously, but if I thought telling her the details would make me feel better, I was wrong. She told me to get a picture of Mark over to the security office right away.