I came out of my thoughts and re-entered the phone conversation. “Annette –” I started to say in protest.

“No talking me out of it. Jason and I are both agreed.

Anyway, we real y like your friends.”

I looked at Hank. “They aren’t my friends, they’re Hank’s.”

“They’re everyone’s friends,” Annette declared as I watched Hank’s eyes flicker with control ed frustration.

Annette went on. “We’re coming down the mountain now, then we’l shower and get some food. We’re supposed to meet at Al y’s at eight thirty. See you there.” Then she disconnected.

I flipped the phone shut.

“Annette’s thinking of moving to Denver,” I told him.

Hank’s hand came to my knee, his eyes registered approval. “That’l be good.”

I bit my lip.

Hank watched my mouth.

“Shit,” Hank said.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t like your look,” he said.

“What look?” I asked.

He leaned into me and his hand slid up my thigh to rest at the side of my hip.

“Rewind,” he said, his face close to mine. “Let’s go back to the Roxie of fifteen minutes ago. The sweet one who didn’t argue and did what she was told. I like her.” Wel !

“That isn’t the Real Roxie. The Real Roxie argues and never does what she’s told and is a pain in the ass. This Roxie is Freaked-Out Life-in-Danger Roxie. You don’t like the Real Roxie, then give me back my car and I’l go home to Chicago,” I told him.

His eyes went lazy. “I like Real Roxie too.” My eyes narrowed.

He grinned.

Then, he went on. “I was just enjoyin’ the sweet one.” Then he took my hand, lifted it and pressed my middle finger to his lower lip reminding me what I’d done in the safe room and showing me how he felt about it. I held my breath as his mouth opened and his tongue touched my finger.

“Good God,” I whispered, staring at his mouth and completely forgetting about my snit.

“Black bean dip,” the bartender announced, oblivious to the public foreplay, pul ing us out of the moment and putting a bowl of dip and some corn chips in between our beers.

My eyes slid to the side and I saw a table of three women. Al three were staring at us openly. Or more to the point, staring at Hank. Their faces al showed identical expressions of sweltering hot lust to the point of being openly carnal.

I yanked my hand away from Hank’s and reached for a chip while I col ected myself. I heard Hank’s soft chuckle before he took a pul of his beer.

Fucking Hank.

My phone rang again, I grabbed it as I dipped in the chip and flipped it open. “Hel o?”

“Hey girl,” Al y said. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Reiver’s with Hank,” I said.

“Excel ent! We were al going out to get some food, too late for you two. How about Annette and Jason?”

“I’m sure they’d like to go,” then I gave her Annette’s number.

“Cool. I’l cal . Listen, tel Hank not to worry. I know he’s got to work tonight. Tel him Carl is going to be there and so is Jason. We’ve got enough stun guns to go around and Daisy’s bringing a bodyguard.”

My body went stil .

“Stun guns?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she answered, as if they were accessories akin to a handbag or a belt.

“Bodyguard?” I stayed on target.

She laughed. “Just saying, you’re covered. See you at eight thirty. Wear something warm and gym shoes. Gotta be prepared to run. Later.”

“Run?” I said into the dead phone.

I sat there a second and then flipped the phone shut and slid it on the bar.

Hank was watching me.

I put the loaded chip into my mouth.

I chewed.

My eyes widened and I think I had a mini-culinary-orgasm.

After I swal owed, I breathed. “This stuff is great,” then I dipped in another chip.

Hank’s hand caught my wrist with the chip halfway to my mouth, my mouth al the way open to receive the chip. My eyes moved to him.

“Stun guns? Bodyguards?” he asked.

I closed my mouth and told him what Al y told me.

He let go of my wrist and sat back. His elbow went to the bar and his hand went to take a swipe at his forehead.

“Christ,” he muttered.

I ate my chip and ignored him. Then I ate another one.

He looked at me. “You wouldn’t feel like going back to Sweet Agreeable Roxie for a while, going to the station with me tonight, hanging out while I work?” That sounded about as fun as sitting in the control room.

I wasn’t al -fired sure about this haunted house business but I wasn’t going to hang out watching my nails grow at the station while Hank worked.

I shook my head.

“Fuck,” he said.

“We need to go back to your place,” I told him. “I have to change clothes. Which reminds me, I need to cal Vance.” Hank did a slow blink. “Why do you need to cal Vance?”

“He bought me some clothes and some Keds. Al y mentioned I need to wear gym shoes and the only ones I own are the ones Vance bought me. I need to pay him back.”

“I’l pay him back,” Hank answered immediately.

I dipped another chip. “No, I’l pay him back. Do you have him programmed into your phone?”

I put the chip into my mouth and held out my hand for his phone.

“You aren’t cal in’ Vance,” he said, taking his own chip.

“Why not?”

He chewed and swal owed. “Because you aren’t.” I stared at him, thinking I was beginning to get angry.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of you talkin’ to Vance.” Okay, I was definitely beginning to get angry. “Why not?” I repeated.

“Vance is a player and he’s playin’ you.”

It was my turn to blink. “I don’t think so,” I said.

“He is.”

“He is not.”

“For Christ’s sake, Roxie,” he said and I could tel he was beginning to get angry too.

“Don’t ‘for Christ’s sake’ me, Hank Nightingale. Vance is not playing me.”

“What was happening at Lincoln’s then?”