Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“Fine.”

“We’ve got a bit of time before the flight. Let’s get some dinner.”

“I’m not particularly hungry.”

It took everything he had not to snap at her. Lord, the woman brought out the worst in him at every turn. “Torie,” he said through gritted teeth, “humor me. This is a small airport. I’d rather talk with you in the confines of a booth at an airport restaurant than in the general seating area. Okay?”

She closed her eyes. He guessed that she, too, was holding onto temper. Instead, tears sparkled when she opened her eyes again.

“Whatever,” she managed, hauling her suitcase onto the shuttle bus from the rental car return.

They sat in silence for the entire ride. She spoke to the clerk at the ticket counter, showed her license, but said nothing to him or anyone else until they were through security and he had guided her into a small pub in the moderately decorated concourse. Wilmington didn’t have a lot of gates, and they’d be changing planes in Charlotte, a short hop before the flight back to Philly.

He decided to try a neutral topic. “You love it here in the Carolinas don’t you?”

She nodded without looking at him. “It’s beautiful. The people are friendly. The beach is wide and clean. What’s not to love?”

“Hmmm, I agree. I’ve never been down here in winter.” He’d never been down in summer, either. Torie had done a series of graduate classes at North Carolina State University in the summer before she and Todd were to have been married. She’d been in Raleigh when he won the lottery, Paul remembered, so Todd had come to Paul’s house first to share his news, double-check the winning sequence on the computer, and get advice.

“It’s peaceful,” she said softly. “Serene.”

“I see that.” The concourse was quiet. The waitress from the bar strolled over to see if they wanted anything. Torie ordered coffee. Paul ordered a beer and a sandwich. He’d missed lunch. “You sure you don’t want something to eat?”

She shook her head. “Not hungry.”

It was his turn to frown. Now that he’d achieved his objective of getting her to the airport, he really looked at her. She was pale, and there were circles under her big, expressive eyes. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d lost weight.

She’d never been a small woman, something he’d enjoyed about her. Usually he thought of her as more statuesque than fragile, but the contrast of the hollows under her high cheekbones, a slight slumping curve to her broad shoulders, and the pallor in her striking coloring made her look like a strong wind could blow her down.

He was used to noticing behavior, managing his clients through the subtle body language clues they offered. Her posture and demeanor said sorrow, despair, overwhelm. It irritated the shit out of him to realize that he was dreading what he was about to do. In fact, he was about to pile another load on her, overwhelm her even further.

So, uncharacteristically, instead of going straight to the punch and talking about the will, or that he’d pretty much dragged her from her sanctuary, he tried a different tack.

“So, are you still rooting for those losers down in DC?”

Chapter Four

The look she shot him was pure venom. And pure Torie. It lightened his heart.

“Losers? The changes they’ve made this year will see them to the playoffs. The stats from spring training…” she trailed off, narrowing her eyes. Spearing a finger his way, she growled. “What? What is it that you want to distract me from?”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. She had a sharp mind.

“Well, I guess it was pretty lame if you caught on that easily.” He delayed any further answer by taking another bite.

“Lame? Yeah, well, I guess. Spill it, Paul.”

“I just thought you looked…weary. I hate to add to it, be the bearer of worse news.”

“Not just bad, eh?”

“No, it’s bad. Not much worse than being named as a murder suspect, is there?”

The stricken look was back. “No, especially in this situation.”

“Exactly. And you have to deal with me, something you’ve always despised. I’m sure that’s no picnic. I thought I’d try and distract you with something else.”

“Well, since you root for those lousy Phillies, you don’t have a lot of room to rejoice, now do you?”

It was a poor attempt for her. Her comebacks were usually so sharp, so sassy, they cut you off at the knees and left you puzzled as to how she’d done it. It irked him as much as it intrigued him.

“True. They sucked last year and aren’t looking too good this year either, with Adams being traded to the Cubs.”

They traded halfhearted barbs about baseball for a while as he finished his sandwich and beer. When their flight was called, he dropped a twenty on the table, waved at the waitress and offered Torie his arm.

“We might as well board and head back with as much energy as we can muster.”

She looked at his waiting arm, and then into his face. Something flickered in her eyes, and she shook her head.

“Thanks, I’ll walk on my own. I’m not that feeble. Not yet, anyway.”

A sharp bite of pain, like a twisted muscle, pierced his chest. For the barest instant, he wondered if he were having a heart attack. It subsided and he moved aside to let her go ahead to the gate. In silence they boarded, sitting next to one another for the short up and down flight to Charlotte without a word exchanged.

They checked in at Charlotte, where he picked up voice mail and turned on his PDA for the brief lay-over. Thirty-seven emails had piled up, and fourteen voice mails clogged his in-box. Better than half of them were about Torie, or the situation surrounding her. She sat across from him, holding a glossy fashion magazine.

He knew she wasn’t reading it because she hadn’t turned a page in five minutes. As he watched, she closed her eyes, squeezing them to block some inner anguish to which he wasn’t privy.

Was it possible that she had killed Todd? Even wondering it made him feel ill. He’d loved Todd like a brother, which had made him feel ten times worse when he’d met Torie, been attracted to her. Could he have misjudged her that much? Had her disappointment, her bone-deep embarrassment, her fear and her anger built so fiercely and deeply over the intervening years that she could plot Todd’s death, carry it out?

He had no idea. The inability to judge her, to get a handle on who she now was pissed him off. Worse yet, it made his gut roil. God, he was going to have to resort to the prescription meds for his stomach again at this rate.

The overhead announcement of their boarding call relieved him of his angst. They hadn’t been able to get adjoining seats on the flight from Charlotte to Philly, so he merely touched her shoulder as they boarded, moving beyond her to sit in the exit row.

Looking at her from this vantage point, Paul saw nothing about her body language. The thought that she might be sitting there in misery only made his stomach hurt more.

Just as well he couldn’t see her. He had work to do, and knowing she was there was distracting enough; it would have been worse if she’d been sitting next to him. He mentally thanked his secretary for not getting them adjoining seats as he rummaged in his briefcase for the antacids.

On the ground in Philadelphia, Torie was still wrestling with the notion that she, of all people, could be accused of killing Todd. Tears threatened, and she forced them back. No. She’d cried enough.

Torie pulled her sunglasses out of her purse as they walked through the terminal toward baggage claim. Neither she nor Paul had spoken, which was just as well.

Beyond the security gates, she could see throngs of people waiting for their loved ones. It was sad that no one was waiting there for her.