Step Into My Parlor by Jan Hudson

birthday for her and decided that she would use Jennifer Anne Webb and be Spider's cousin.
    "I always wanted to be named Jennifer," she told him as they walked through the parking lot.
    "And I always wanted a cousin," he said as he helped her into the Silverado. He stowed the briefcase and food on the floor, propped one black booted foot on the step plate, and hung his elbow on the open door. "I guess we've come a long way if you'll let me carry that satchel of yours, but you still haven't told me what's in it."
    Anne nibbled on her lower lip and looked up into bold blue eyes that seemed to peer into places she dared not allow them. She glanced away quickly. "May we discuss it later?"
    'That's what you said last night. Don't you know by now you can trust me, sugar?" When she was silent, his mouth curled into a wry grimace. "No, I guess not."
    Without another word, he closed the door. Indecision sawed back and forth in her mind as Spider drove to the shop. Instinct prompted her to trust him. Yet, another primitive mechanism whispered that she must not be lulled into revealing her secrets. Her life was too high a stake to gamble on a man she had known only two days. No, she'd wait. She must.
    Spider seemed to take in stride her decision to remain silent. That he didn't push said something for his character.
    "You're not angry with me?" she ventured after a long silence.
    "Nah. I'm not mad. Just curious. I figure you've got some kind of goods on your husband in that thing. Something that could get him in deep grease."
    She gasped. "How did you know?"
    "Seems logical. He's after you; you're scared witless; you guard that thing like the crown jewels. I figure you've got the goods on him somehow." He glanced over at her with a troubled expression. "Darlin", he's not some honcho with the mob, is he?"
    "Why would you ask that?"
    "You said he had powerful friends. You're scared of the police. Either you're overreacting or he's tied in with a heck of a network."
    "I'm not overreacting," she said fiercely. "And as far as I know Preston doesn't have any connection with the mob."
    'Thank God for little miracles."
    "Would it matter?"
    "You mean would I toss you to the big boys? No, my momma didn't raise me that way. I stick by my friends, but it helps to know the line you're up against." He waited for a response, but she clamped her lips together, determined not to say any more. "Okay, sugar, I figure you'll talk when you're ready. But if I promise nobody will sneak a peek, will you at least lock that thing up in my vault? It's safer than lugging it around with you. I ’ ll even give you the combination."
    "I ’ ll think about it."
    "Fair enough."
    By the time they reached the shop, she had made a decision. The case would be safer in the vault than with her. If Spider trusted her enough to provide the combination, she would trust him with the documents. She couldn't live her life being suspicious of everyone.
    Once they were inside and had stowed the containers of food in the refrigerator, she drew a deep breath and held out the briefcase. "Here."
    He smiled as he took it from her. "I ’ ll take good care of it, darlin'. And instead of putting it in the vault at the back of the shop. I’ll put it in the one in my bedroom. Nobody has the combination to that one or knows it's there except me. Come on. I ’ ll show you."
    He led her into the room with the big brass bed. Her attention zeroed in on red satin sheets, tangled as If a wrestling match had taken place on the mattress. Before her imagination could take flight, she averted her face and followed him to the corner where the pump organ stood.
    He rolled the scarred instrument away from the wall to reveal a large gray safe set in the panel. Black jeans taut across his muscled thighs, he squatted in front of the steel door and dialed the combination, calling out the numbers as he went.
    When the door swung open, Anne peered over his shoulder as he rearranged several small bags and