Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“No, not entirely. They seemed focused on asking me where I was and what I heard. Sorrels seemed satisfied when I said two breaks of the glass, two thuds, two explosions.”

“Hmmm. Coordinating their findings.”

“What does that mean for me?”

“Faster resolution, maybe.”

“So what was all the cloak and dagger stuff with the SUV?”

Paul grinned. “Cloak and dagger? Isn’t that painting it a bit grim?”

“Everything in my life is grim right now,” Torie replied, feeling as if it were true.

At the stoplight, Paul sent her a searing look. “Everything?”

His implication was obvious, and it lightened her heart. It also turned her on. “Not everything,” she admitted.

“That was today’s bodyguard.”

“Today’s? What do you mean?”

“I could only get short-term again today. I think I’ve got someone who can do it, though, for the next week or so.”

She shuddered. “I hope I don’t need it that long.”

Paul didn’t say anything. She let it go, not wanting to think about the alternative. “I need to call Barbara, my insurance lady.” She pulled a notepad from her purse. “Do you mind?”

“No, go ahead.”

Paul listened to Torie’s side of the conversation, making mental notes of what he needed to ask her. He also needed to suggest several workmen, firms who had helped him with small jobs, as well as one company he’d heard of who remediated smoke and water damage. He hadn’t ever used them himself, thank goodness, but he knew their reputation.

“I see, yes. I’m at a friend’s house. Yes. They’re both crime scenes. Yes. I don’t know. Just a minute, my friend should know.” She held the phone to her chest, covering the receiver to mask her question. “Barbara wants to know if I’m still being charged by the hotel. For the room. They let me get the rest of my things, but I don’t think I officially checked out. Can they do that?”

Paul nodded, but added. “We’ll run by there and take care of it.”

“Okay.” She went back to the call saying she’d check out. “Yes, I’ll be in touch with someone. Can you email that to me? Yes, my computer is, well, toast, but I have my PDA. I’m taking the computer to the repair—” She stopped to listen. “Oh, okay. I will. Yes.”

They hung up, and Torie took time to jot everything down. With a weary sound, she turned to Paul. “You know, I’m a detail person, but this level of note-taking is going to drive me bats.”

“Where to?”

“Oh, sorry, two blocks over, the dry cleaner on Washington Street.”

He helped her haul in the bags, and waited as she haggled with the clerk about when things would be ready and what to do if they decided something couldn’t be returned to smoke-free usefulness.

“I’m going to need to do some more of this kind of thing,” she said as they walked back to the car. “Do you want me to take you back to the office after we go to the hotel? Oh,” she said, remembering suddenly, “the rental car is at the hotel. I should—”

Paul interrupted. “No, it’s been impounded. It was damaged, too. Martha took care of notifying the rental car place. She said you took out the extra insurance, right?”

Torie sat for a moment, just staring. The rental car, too. “How bad was it, in the hotel room at the Extended Suites?” she asked, knowing she’d been hiding her head in the sand about that since it happened. She hadn’t asked, hadn’t wanted to know. Until this moment, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Paul looked at the road, and without facing her said, “It was bad, Torie. The damage and the destruction are escalating. And Tibbet is worried because this person’s getting bolder.” He glanced at her, as if to gauge her reaction. “The fire alarm, the shooting, everything. Before he was just taking his anger out on you and Todd in random ways, malicious mischief if you want the technical term.”

“I think running someone over with a car and killing them is more than malicious mischief,” she said, gripping her hands together so tightly the knuckles cracked.

“Yeah, Tibbet thinks so, too. He’s worried about you.” Paul took a hand off the steering wheel and covered her clenched fingers. “I’m worried, too.”

Taking a deep breath, Torie asked the question that was looming in her mind, and had been hovering all day. “Is that what this morning was? Between us? Worry? Stress?”

With a quick twist of the wheel and a squeal of tires behind him, Paul pulled to the curb and slapped on the four-way flashers. “Oh, no, Torie. That wasn’t worry.”

His eyes were boring into hers, and his strong palm closed more snugly over her folded hands.

“That was…” He hesitated, stopped.

Torie waited for him to continue, unsure of what she would hear, what she wanted to hear. When the silence dragged out, she had to fill it.

“What? Right? Wrong? Good? Bad?”

He laughed, but it wasn’t like a belly laugh, or filled with humor. “Bad? Oh, no. Never bad, not with you. Bad for us, maybe. The worst thing we could do, since you’re a suspect and I’m your lawyer.” He looked at her, and she saw desire shimmer in his eyes. It was as reassuring as it was exciting. “But never, never bad. It couldn’t be.”

When she couldn’t speak, couldn’t respond, he smiled. It was a little smug, which irritated her, but when he unlatched the seat belt and swooped in to kiss her, all thought of irritation fled.

In fact, she stopped thinking all together.

The world narrowed to the sensation of his mouth on hers, of his hand on her face, drawing her closer. Nothing seemed real except those two things.

When he broke it off, sat back and relatched his seat belt, she felt bereft.

“Never bad, Torie,” he reiterated. “Not with you.”

Pulling away from the curb amidst honking horns, he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. It was an intimate gesture. Lover like.

Into the deepening silence he asked, “And what did you think about it?”

How did she put it into words? She had asked for it, initiated it. The result, the chance to finally touch him, be with him, had been mind-blowing in so many ways. The fact that she’d been able to trust him enough to find her own release, not just kind of moan and fake it, was actually scary.

“Torie?” He pulled into the parking deck at his office, and parked. “Talk to me.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level. “It was—”

“What?” he interrupted, sounding anxious.

Looking at him, facing him, she told the truth. “Beyond my wildest expectation. Incredible. What do you want me to say?”

He smiled. A true smile that twinkled in his eyes. “That works.”

People were coming and going in the garage, and he glanced at them. His newly upgraded parking space was second row center, close to the elevator. Way too visible to do what he was obviously thinking about.

“It works for you? I’m so glad,” her reply was half-pleased, half-sarcastic.

His smile stayed in place, but he sighed. “It’s not going to be a picnic, Torie. It’s already so complicated with all you have going on, just with the fire. That alone is terrible. When you add in everything else, it’s so complex, it’s mind-boggling.”

“Todd,” she whispered. “The shootings.”

“Everything from Todd to the vandalism. It’s all directed at you now. It’s the worst time for any kind of additional complication, especially for something between the two of us.”

“You say that like everything is my fault.”

“No,” he said sharply. “It’s not about fault. This isn’t your fault. Someone has fixated on you, Torie, and that’s dangerous.” He frowned, looking away. “There are so many things we need to get out. Clear the air.”