Gone With the Nerd (Nerds, #4)(20)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

"No! Where is it?"

Margo pointed to a spot above one of the booths. There was Margo’s high school yearbook picture, the eight-by-ten. She’d chosen to have it taken in her cheer-leading uniform with the megaphone as a prop.

The contrast between that Margo and the one standing in front of Zoe was a shock. Senior pictures were always taken in the fall, so at that point Margo had been going steady with Rob. Zoe told herself that Margo might have slid downhill even if she’d ended up with Rob, but the guilt was still there.

"They wanted a picture of me to put up on account of all my Bigfoot sightings," Margo said. "That was the only one I had. There’s a little sign underneath that says I’m the top Bigfoot spotter, and they have a space where I can change the number each time I have another sighting."

"That’s terrific!" Zoe knew she sounded patronizing and couldn’t figure out how to avoid it.

"I know it’s not in the same league with a movie marquee."

"Margo, I have zero Bigfoot sightings and you have…" She searched her memory for the number Margo had thrown out last night.

"Seven," Margo said. "I saw the big male last night. If you’d been looking, you would have seen him, too. He went right by your place."

"I didn’t see him." Zoe thought about the footprint. "Have you ever found footprints?"

"Oh, sure. I made that plaster cast that’s hanging behind the cash register."

Zoe looked over and saw the cast, which was the same color as the wall, so she’d missed it before. It looked exactly like the footprint she’d seen last night. She shivered. ‘That’s very convincing."

"You’d better believe it is. Bigfoot is definitely out there." Margo nodded wisely. "I’m trying to get a good picture, but what I’ve taken is too blurry. Someday I’ll get that picture, and the world will sit up and take notice."

"I’m sure it will. That would be historic, Margo."

"I’m saving for a better camera. That will help. Well, listen, I have to get back to work, but I wanted to warn you about something. My guy called in about the bees, and he found an actual man-made hive under there. So he notified the landlord, who said no way, no-how, was that there yesterday. So somebody left it since then, probably during the night."

"On purpose?" Zoe felt a little chill. "Why would anyone do that?"

Margo gazed at her for a couple of seconds. "Think about it."

"I can’t imagine why anyone would do that. It makes no sense, unless it’s just vandals."

"Oh, I don’t think it’s vandals. I think it’s someone who’s targeting you personally, someone who feels extremely threatened by you."

Zoe’s eyes widened. "Flynn’s girlfriend?"

"Bingo."

Zoe shook her head. "That’s impossible. She’s in Chicago."

"How do you know that?" Margo glanced over at a booth where someone was signaling for her attention. "Be right there!"

"She’s in Chicago," Zoe said again, unwilling to believe a woman she didn’t know was after her. Yet thinking about what had happened with Flynn last night, Zoe had to admit that Kristen had a reason to be upset.

"What evidence do you have that she’s in Chicago?" Margo sounded like an actor on a TV cop show.

"Flynn … Flynn talked to her. She was talking to him from the conference."

"Cell phone calls can come from anywhere."

"But she’s a lawyer. She’s a nerd." Nerds weren’t stalkers. Were they?

"So what if she’s a nerd? In fact, if she’s a lawyer, even more reason to think she did it. Lawyers research things. After she found out about this weekend, she would have dug up everything about you. That would be nerd behavior, right?"

"I guess so." Zoe couldn’t fault Margo’s reasoning.

"And she would have found that old Enquirer story, which is probably available somewhere. So she’d know about your allergy. You need to watch your back, Zoe."

"I have a hard time believing she’d go to such lengths." "Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I wanted to warn you."

"I appreciate that."

"Anyway, I really have to get going before the customers call out a lynch party."

"Wait." Zoe wasn’t ready to let go of the only person interested in protecting her from a potential threat. "The best way to prove this one way or the other is to find out if she’s still registered at that hotel."

"Which hotel?"

"I don’t know, but I can find out. I wouldn’t dare call, though. Flynn might catch me doing it."

"So get me the name of the hotel. I’ll call and see if she’s there."

"Okay. I’ll do that." Zoe watched Margo walk away. Then she looked over at Flynn, who was glancing in her direction. What should she tell him?

Nothing. He would go up in smoke if she so much as hinted that Kristen might be plotting to harm her. He might not be madly in love with his girlfriend, but he’d resent the hell out of Zoe making her out as some psycho woman.

She walked back to the table and smiled at him. "Ready to leave?"

"I’m ready. But I’m curious about what Margo had to say. You looked upset."

She thought quickly. "There’s a chance they were killer bees, after all." Which could be true. Nobody had said they weren’t. "I’m very lucky I didn’t get stung." Also true.

She still had a tough time imagining the bees were a special message from Kristen. Even so, as she picked up the bill Margo had left, she memorized the number of the Sasquatch Diner, so she could call with the name of Kristen’s hotel when she got the chance.

I can pay for my own breakfast." Flynn stood and pulled out his wallet. "In fact, let me buy yours, such as it was."

"No, no." Zoe waved his money away. "I invited you up here. My treat." Then she remembered what else Margo had told her. "You can’t be seen paying for me, anyway. Everyone here thinks I’m a hooker."

Flynn blinked. "Come again?"

She told him about the overheard remark. "So they think my profession is actually the world’s oldest profession. You need to let me pay, which will make them wonder, because logically a prostitute wouldn’t be buying the meal."

"Good Lord." His color high, he adjusted the position of his glasses. He didn’t seem terribly comfortable being associated with a suspected lady of the evening, even in broad daylight. "And who do they think I am, your client?"

"I don’t know. Maybe they think you’re my pimp." With a wink, she turned and walked up to the cash register.

A pimp. Now Flynn was doubly glad he’d switched from the Town Car Zoe had rented to a sensible sedan. He didn’t know any pimps, but he’d seen movies and he knew they were supposed to drive big expensive cars. Pimps also were supposed to dress in flashy clothes, so he was saved on that score, too.

No, people wouldn’t think he was Zoe’s pimp, but they might think he’d hired her for a weekend of sex. And a weekend of sex was exactly what he wanted, although he didn’t plan to allow himself the luxury.

That didn’t stop him from thinking about it as he held the door open for Zoe and escorted her out to the car. Every customer in the place had watched their exit, and he wondered how many of the men envied him. Zoe’s wild combination of colors and wire-rimmed glasses couldn’t disguise her incredible body.

Once they were both in the car, Flynn backed out of the parking space. "I’m sure there’s some kind of grocery store on this street."

"I’m sure there is. By the way, have you talked to Kristen today?"

"No, not yet." And he felt guilty about that. But with the bee problem and hurrying to come into town so they could have breakfast, he hadn’t had much time. He needed to have a serious discussion with Kristen, because he was beginning to doubt his commitment to her. Yet he couldn’t imagine having that discussion while Zoe was nearby.

"Don’t you think you should check in with her?"

"You mean now?" He scanned the ragtag buildings lining Long Shaft’s main street and spotted the Bigfoot Food Mart about midway down on the left.

"You brought your cell phone, right?"

"I always bring my cell phone." He’d been first in line to buy one the minute they’d become available.

"So call her while we’re in town. I’m sure the signal will be belter than out in the woods."

"She’s probably in one of her sessions. She was giving a talk this morning."

"Then you could at least leave her a message."

"I could." And that might be better. He could leave a message to let her know he hadn’t forgotten about her. If he left messages all weekend, then on Sunday night when he got back to LA he could have the necessary discussion about their future.

Pulling into a diagonal parking space between two battered pickups, he turned off the engine and reached in his shirt pocket for his PDA. He’d programmed Kristen’s conference schedule into it. He’d be able to make sure she wasn’t in a position to pick up.

Yep, she was right in the middle of her talk. Assuming she hadn’t ditched the conference and was on her way to Long Shaft. He slipped the PDA back in his shirt pocket and reached for the cell phone clipped to his belt.

"Chicago’s a great city," Zoe said. "I stayed at the Hilton on Michigan Avenue last time I was there. Is that where Kristen is?"

"No, she’s at the Sheraton on Lake Shore Drive." He speed-dialed Kristen’s cell. Her well-modulated voice on the recorded message raised his level of guilt. She sounded so calm, so civilized. An animal like him, a guy who couldn’t keep his hands off Zoe, didn’t deserve a woman like Kristen.

"Oh, well, that’s nice, too."

"What?" He glanced at Zoe as he waited for the beep to begin recording his message.

"I meant the Sheraton’s a good place to stay."

He had a sudden image of sharing a luxury hotel room with Zoe. He wouldn’t care what city they were in because he wouldn’t leave the room, and if he had Zoe figured right, she wouldn’t want to, either.

That wasn’t a good thing to be thinking about while he left his message for Kristen. His voice clogged up at first, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "Hi, Kristen. It’s me. I came into town for some breakfast and thought I’d give you a call. I hope your talk went great. I’ll check back later. Take care. Bye." He ended the call and slipped the phone back in the holder clipped to his belt.

"What was her talk on?" Zoe asked. "Research techniques."

"Research techniques?" Zoe’s voice sounded slightly strangled, like she might be trying not to laugh.

"I know it sounds boring, but in actuality it’s extremely … boring." He glanced over at her, feeling more like a louse every minute. "I shouldn’t admit that. I’m being very disloyal, but she outlined her talk for me over the phone last week and I nearly fell asleep."

Zoe gazed at him. "Research can be important. I suppose she’s very good at it."

Something was going on with Zoe, but he couldn’t tell what. Her expression had always been open, but now it wasn’t. She seemed to be hiding.

He wanted to know why. "What’s with the sudden interest in Kristen?"

"I’ve always been interested in Kristen, ever since you told me about her this past week."

"I know, but now you seem even more interested."

"I just don’t want you to forget about her this weekend, that’s all. I know she’s important to you. You should keep in contact."

"But you’re not keeping in contact with Trace."

Her expression became even more secretive. "That’s not really necessary."

"Why is it necessary for me and Kristen and not for you and Trace?"

She waved a hand in the air. "You know Hollywood relationships. They’re not the norm. We’re separated a lot by work, and when we are together the media is all over us. It’s not easy to have the level of intimacy that you’re able to have with Kristen. Trace and I aren’t close enough for me to feel I need to keep in constant touch with him."

"You don’t love him." Flynn hadn’t meant to say it. Usually he guarded his comments better than that. "Sorry. That’s none of my business."

"You’re entitled to your opinion."

"Yeah, but I don’t have to blurt it out. What do I know about your emotions concerning Trace? Nothing. I have no right to make a judgment."

"You could assume I didn’t love him after what happened last night."

"No, I couldn’t, Zoe. People are more complicated than that." He braced both hands against the steering wheel and blew out a breath. "Tell you what. Let’s table this discussion while I go into the food mart and hunt down some food that’s easy to fix."

"Do you mind if I sit in the car? I just realized the food mart might stock magazines with me on the cover."

"Then you probably shouldn’t come in."

I’ll try to stay out of trouble."

He wondered if that were possible. She looked like trouble sitting there with a big purple pansy decorating each breast and glasses that made her seem more impish than scholarly. The blouse was buttoned up to her neck and the plaid skirt covered her knees, but that didn’t matter. Nothing could disguise the sexual light shining from Zoe Tarleton. That was why she’d made millions.

"I won’t be long," he said.

"I’ll be here." She smiled at him.

"If anyone comes along, don’t smile."

"I still say you’re wrong about that. No one’s going to recognize me because of my smile."

"Humor me. Don’t smile."

"Okay." She scrunched up her face and crossed her eyes. "How’s this?"

He laughed. "Perfect. Hold that pose." He knew she wouldn’t, but at least he’d tried. He left the car determined to make this a power shopping trip.

When Flynn walked into the food mart, Zoe pulled her cell phone out of her purse and punched in the number of the Sasquatch Diner. A man answered, and Zoe decided he must be Ray, Fiona’s recently satisfied husband.

Zoe watched the front of the food mart in case Flynn made an unexpected return. "May I please speak to Margo Taggart?"