Free Smashwords version Sweet Surrender by Georgette St. Clair Page A

a dozen
colorful sheets of paper, some of them wadded and crumpled into balls. “That’s
why you couldn’t open the drawer; she’d just stuffed them all behind there and
they were caught in the metal track.”
    Viola swiveled to stare at him. “Letters, plural? Didn’t you tell
me there was one threatening letter?”
    “Yes,” Rafe said. “Brace yourself - it turns out Penelope lied
again.”
    Viola squinted at the letters. “Waiiit a minute. Stay here, I’ll
be right back.” She turned and dashed outside, followed by Jeffrey, hot on her
heels.
    A minute later she returned, with several brightly colored pieces
of paper clutched in her hand. “Jeffrey, I do not need a guard dog.  If
that nut job tries anything, he’ll be the one needing protection.  Rafe,
look at these flyers, they’re the same colors as those letters. Somebody’s been
putting the flyers under my windshield wipers, but I’ve just been throwing them
away without looking at them.  I saw him putting them there. It wasn’t the guy
with the sign; it was a tall, skinny guy.  Poppy, doesn’t that sound like
the guy who attacked you?”
    “Yes, it does.”
    Scrawled across the flyers in big angry letters was the same
hysterical verbiage that the intruder in her apartment had screamed at her.
“Die, scarlet women! Jezebel whores will lead good men to temptation!”
    Viola leaned over to read them. “Why would I want to lead a good
man to temptation? That sounds boring. I like a man who knows what he’s doing.”
    “This is actually really good news. Now we’re getting somewhere,”
Rafe said, visibly cheered. “We can dust these for fingerprints, maybe find out
where they were printed. We’ll find him.”
    He stuffed the letters in his brief case.  “Jeffrey, keep an
eye out here. I’m going to drop these off at the police station before I head
in to work.”
    It wasn’t until the end of the day when the next Penelope-related
bombshell detonated. Poppy was sitting in her favorite hiding place, the office, going
over the inventory, when Viola rapped sharply on the door. “Poppy, come out here,” Viola sang. Poppy’s stomach twisted. Viola sounded sadistically chipper. This
couldn’t be good.
    She opened the office door and stepped out cautiously.
    In the
center of the store stood three young couples, holding wicker baskets of
massage oil, and laden with glossy pink and black bags overflowing with
merchandise. They were all smiling and chatting with each other and they all
turned towards her eagerly when she stepped out of the office. “They’re here for the sensual massage demonstration,” Viola
smiled, with a wicked gleam in her eye. Panic swept over Poppy’s face and she started making incoherent
squeaking sounds, and Viola added in a low voice, “Don’t worry, I called in
reinforcements. Otherwise known as Rafe.” “What?” Poppy’s squeak went up several octaves.
    “He gave me his cell phone number in case we had any more 
emergencies.”
    “That’s not what I’m what-ing about. Sensual massage demonstration? What?”
    “Penelope didn’t tell you? Shut the front door, I can’t believe
it. Yes, apparently the store holds sensual massage demonstrations.
 Genius idea, actually, because each couple also buys a big bucket of
massage oils, and I’ve been upselling the hell out of them ever since they
walked in the door.  By the way, they already paid for the class when they
registered, and they’re really excited about it.”
    Before Poppy could protest, Viola walked over to the couples,
grinning hugely. “Thank you so much for coming!  I can promise you a
memorable experience, and many nights of pure pleasure with your loved one if
you use these techniques at home.  And now, let me take you back to the
demonstration room while our demonstration model gets ready.”
    We have a demonstration room? Poppy thought, mind in a whirl.
Apparently they did, because Viola was leading the couples down the hall past
the