A Honeybun and Coffee(6)

By: Sam Cheever

Angie just gave him a look.

The blue eyes with the dark red fringe just stared at her over the blankets for a moment and then a sigh emerged from somewhere under the eyes. “Okay, so it’s not a very common name. But why would anybody want to kill me? I’m just a financial planner for heaven’s sake.”

Angie shrugged. “They seemed to think you saw something you shouldn’t have. Something about a girl?”

Alastair shook his head and sipped his tea, staring down at the small, fragmented piece of paper between them. “I haven’t seen anything except the inside of this house for days. I’ve had the flu and then I got a sinus infection.” He sneezed again as if to prove his point.

Angie stood up and walked over to the wall to grab the phone. “You need to call the police. These men were planning on killing you today. They were going to try your office first but then I assume they will come here.”

She offered the phone to him and he stared at it thoughtfully for a moment. Then he took it out of her hand. Angie sat down with a sigh of relief and picked up her tea. She cradled it in her hands, enjoying the warmth the hot mug gave her suddenly cold fingers as he punched numbers into the phone. She sat back and looked around the kitchen as he waited for the police to pick up.

It was a very nice kitchen, filled with very expensive appliances. The floors were covered with wide planks of hardwood in a deep golden color and the countertops were granite. The stove was gas, huge, and looked like something you’d find in a gourmet restaurant. They sat at a small, granite topped table with two chairs in a nook that was surrounded on three sides by a large, arching window that overlooked an expansive back yard. Under the window on all sides was a deep window seat with cushions tossed invitingly in every corner. A folded newspaper with a partially completed cross word puzzle showing and a silver Cross pen lying across it told her that he actually used the window seat. Imagine that.

Her attention was drawn back to him as he spoke into the phone.

“Allyson. Hi. It’s Alastair. Yes, thank you I amb feeling a bit bedder. No, I dknow I still sound bad. It’s this sinus infection...” He threw Angie a look of frustration, nodding as the woman on the other end appeared to blather on.

Angie frowned at him and put both hands in the air, palms up as if to say, “What gives?” She’d thought he was calling the police.

Alastair nodded at something the woman on the phone apparently said and tried to break in several times and then finally instigated a brutal takeover of the conversation, cutting her off in apparent mid-sentence. “I’m sorry, Allyson, but this is important. I need you to tell me if two men came looking for me today.”

He listened for a minute and then turned to Angie. “What did they look like?”

“One tall, skinny...one fairly short and muscular...one of them cranky, oily, with a ponytail...the other tall, fancies himself a ladies’ man. Yup, got it.” Alastair glanced toward Angie. She nodded. “How long ago?”

He thanked the woman on the phone and hung up. Then he picked up the small piece of paper on the table and stared at it as if it held some vital secret. He’d let the blankets drop to his shoulders as he’d spoken to the woman whom Angie assumed was his secretary. Angie took note of the square jaw that was currently covered in dark red stubble, and long, slightly arched nose. The blankets rested on a very wide set of shoulders that stretched the material of his worn, soft

t-shirt in a very nice way. When he bit his bottom lip as he was doing at that moment, two long creases showed up in his stubble covered cheeks. Angie had a serious weakness for dimples.

“They were there?”

He looked up at her, worry had settled in the sexy blue eyes. “About twenty minutes ago.”

Where it had been scary before, but a bit unreal, it all came crashing down on Angie at that moment. She suddenly realized the man sitting before her was in real danger. And sitting there with him, so was she. “Call the police, Alastair. Now!”

He nodded and picked the phone back up just as the little dog started woofing in the back yard and surged through the doggy door to bounce toward the front of the house, barking frantically.

Alastair looked at her and surged to his feet. “Too late.”


“LET’S GO!” ALASTAIR said as he grabbed her hand. He whistled softly and the little dog pattered back up the hallway toward them. Alastair scooped up the doxy and dragged Angie to one side of the back door, peering through. He ran his gaze over the back yard. Then he unlocked it and pulled her through, closing the door softly behind them. “This way,” he whispered.

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