Joan Pickart - Body of Evidence

Inside her apartment she yanked off her gloves and jacket and then ran around like a wild woman, frantically picking up things, such as the slippers she’d left by the sofa several nights back, and the Sunday newspapers that were still strewn across her little kitchen table three days later. She grabbed a stack of junk mail that she’d been intending to toss for days and dropped it in the trash can, and put the dirty dishes stacked in the sink into the apartment-size dishwasher she’d been almost as glad to see as the garage when she’d rented the place.

She suddenly needed coffee, and she put on a pot to brew. Hurrying to her bedroom, she made the bed and then ran into the bathroom to straighten things up in there, just in case Josh should ask to use it. She was horribly nervous and couldn’t seem to calm her racing pulse, however many times she reminded herself that she had outgrown Josh Benton years and years ago.

Of course, if that was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, would she be nervous at all?

Maggie was on her second cup of coffee when the building’s front door buzzer went off. She set her cup on the counter, went to her apartment’s front door and pushed a button. “Yes?”

“It’s me. Buzz me in.”

Maggie complied and then opened the door to watch for Josh to step out of the elevator down the hall. As usual, it seemed an eternity for the hydraulic lift to make its snail-like way from the first floor to the fourth, but finally Maggie heard it grind to a shuddering stop. The doors slowly opened and Josh began walking toward her.

“I should have taken the stairs. It would’ve been faster.”

“Which is what I usually do. The only time I use the elevator is when I’m loaded down with groceries, or something else. Come on in.”

Josh followed her in. “This building has a garage in the basement?”

“Yes. I’ll get my jacket.”

“Not so fast. Do I smell fresh coffee?”

“Uh…yes. Would you like some?”

“Sure would. I was going to stop at a coffeehouse, but then you called and I figured I’d better get over here right away.”

Maggie led him to the kitchen and proceeded to fill a mug for him. “That’s what I do on most mornings, stop somewhere for a large coffee to go.” She handed the mug to Josh who took it and then set it on the table.

“I’m going to take my jacket off, sit down and enjoy this, if you don’t mind. The first cup of the day always tastes best to me. Come and join me at the table.”

“In a minute. You go ahead and sit down. And I don’t mind if you enjoy your first cup of the day,” she murmured, a lie if she’d ever told one. She minded everything that was happening, minded him being there at all, minded that he’d had the nerve to ask for coffee and that he’d been nice enough to offer to jump her car-if that was all it needed. But mostly she minded his astonishing good looks, which seemed a hundred times more striking this morning than they had yesterday. Her stupid stomach was doing somersaults just from looking at him.

And he seemed so at home! Not at all uncomfortable or bashful or anything else that she could detect and read as a negative reaction to being alone in her apartment with her.

Maggie’s thoughts turned cynical. Josh Benton was probably so used to drinking morning coffee in women’s apartments, undoubtedly after spending the night, that why on earth would this perfectly innocent situation with her make him feel uneasy?

Well, he might be just fine with this…this togetherness, but she was not. “I have my car keys right here,” Maggie said, holding them up so he could see.

Josh grinned. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

“Of course not! Take your time. I’ll finish my own coffee.” To prove that her second lie was the unmitigated truth, Maggie took her cup to the table and sat across from him. “Were you at the Bureau when I called your cell?” she asked in an effort to keep any conversation between them on business.

“On my way.” Josh got up, refilled his mug and resumed his seat. He took a sip and looked as satisfied as a frog in a rainfall. “I’m coming alive,” he said. “I do love my coffee. I hope I never have to give it up. You probably don’t even remember when almost everyone smoked, but I sure do. Went through hell quitting that habit, mostly because I enjoyed it so much. But it was getting so you couldn’t find a building that permitted smoking, and standing outside in this kind of weather to light up got very old, very fast.”

“I never did smoke, so I know very little about the trauma of quitting. I’ve heard horror stories about it, though.”

“Believe every one of them.” Josh locked his gaze with Maggie’s. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else with eyes the color of yours.”

Maggie felt her face get warm. He had switched gears so fast he’d caught her off guard. “I…I’m sure the color is not unique,” she stammered.

“It’s very unique, and you’re very beautiful.” Josh hadn’t intended to say any of those things, and he was even more startled by them than Maggie was. But she was beautiful this morning, and maybe she’d been beautiful yesterday, as well, and he’d been too wrapped up in the Gardner case to see her clearly.

Maggie felt as stiff as a board-a board with red cheeks. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” she said, her voice sounding thin and shaky. “We have to work together, and…and…”

Josh got to his feet and walked around the table to her. Tipping her chin with his forefinger he said softly, “And what, Maggie?”

She didn’t move away from him, she couldn’t. And when she saw his face coming closer to hers, she knew he was going to kiss her.

She parted her lips and sucked in a soft breath.

Breathless seconds passed in slow motion for Maggie. Fragmented thoughts drifted through her mind. I know this man…it’s not as though he’s a stranger. I want to feel his kiss…his lips on mine. Have I waited all this time for Josh Benton to reenter my life?

His scent seemed more familiar than her own. His body emanated exciting warmth. She felt things deep inside of her that were brand-new but instinctively recognizable.

But…why was he hesitating?

The answer to that question seemed written in neon in Josh’s brain, and finally he muttered a curse and finished his remark of self-disgusted recrimination with, “What the hell am I doing?” He stepped away from Maggie and plucked the keys from her hand so quickly that she reeled. “Come on,” he growled. “Take me to your car.”

His abrupt change of heart was like a physical blow for Maggie. She had to battle both fury and tears, for she believed that showing either side of the pain he’d just caused her would make her look immature and foolish. And she would die before knowingly appearing as anything but strong and uncaring in front of Josh.

Putting on her most indifferent expression, Maggie said a cold “Excuse me” and went around him to leave the kitchen ahead of him. Pulling on her warm clothing again, she led him from the apartment. In the hall she took a second to make sure the door was locked, then again took the lead. “We’ll use the stairs,” she said without inflection.

And with every step down to the basement garage, she asked herself why Josh had been so eager to kiss her one second and then so angry with himself…or with her…in practically the next. Only one possibility made complete and utter sense: he was involved with someone else.

Maggie nearly lost the control she’d been using on her emotions over that conclusion, and anger began eating holes in her hard-eyed composure. Another woman-he was in love and committed-and he’d dared to lead her on! To make her think that something was beginning to coalesce, to happen for them. In that instant she hated the man he was now-the great Detective Benton-and even the handsome, outgoing, hopeful young cop he’d been when she’d known him before.