Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

He took a deep breath, let it out. He had to plan, shift his priorities. The two idiots who’d damaged the systems at Pratt needed to go.

Then, he’d get back to Paul, and then, to Torie.

Ah, Torie.

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m not going.”

“You are if I have to dope you and drop you off,” Pam insisted later when Torie told her of the new development.

“I don’t think he meant it, Pammie. He’s a lonely old man.”

“Oh, add influential, rich, and interesting.” She paused, fork buried in salad. “Please tell me he’s at least interesting.”

“Of course, and he’s older than my father would have been.”

“Not bad, really.”

“It’s not a date, Pam.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “The salad, you goose. It’s not bad, as in pretty good, which means you should eat the chicken in it, instead of tossing it around with your fork. Besides, you need the protein—we’ve got shopping to do.”

Torie grinned at her enthusiasm, but resolved not to be steamrollered. She would not be going to the partner’s dinner as Mr. Pratt’s date.

“Now, it’s already settled,” Pam continued. “You need to party, girlfriend. You need to get out, forget about all this mayhem stuff, and get drunk. You’ve got cab fare and a new hotel room, okay? All you need is a dress. That we can fix. Miss Pam, she has her ways.” Wiggling her eyebrows, she continued to eat. Before Torie could protest once again, she changed the subject. Typical Pam tactics.

“So, let’s talk cars. Big or little?”

“Medium”

“SUV or sedan?”

“SUV, I guess, or something like the small Jeep. What do they call it? The Liberty?”

“Well, we are in the home of liberty, so that fits,” Pam joked. “Regular or hybrid?”

“Hybrid, if we can get one that’s cool.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, and big enough to handle the dogs.”

“You sure you want to take on that mammoth masquerading as a dog?”

Torie grinned, felt her heart lighten at the thought of Bear. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll change his name to Woolly Mammoth, or Woolly for short.”

“Ha! That’s good. So, we’ll hit car shops and talk about the house, okay?”

“About that…” Torie pulled out her notebook, flipped pages, and handed it to Pam.

“Damn, girl,” was all Pam said as she began reading.

They talked about the house as they finished lunch. Torie had decided it was time for a complete life change. She was going to fix her house, but the more she thought about the rental in Darby, the more she thought she might buy it.

Once she fixed her current house, it would sell easily. Society Hill was a favorite of young married yuppies and professional singles alike. With two dogs, she needed a yard like the first one on Bodia.

By six, she called a halt to the car shopping. They’d been to five dealerships, in between stopping to see Carlos and making a trip to the vet to visit the fast-recovering Pickle.

“I surrender,” she said, pretending to wave a flag. “Pam, I’m dying here. I have to have food.”

“Just one more. I wanna drive the Mercedes SUV. The shorter one.”

“Who’s buying this car, you or me?”

“You, but I’m the one having the fun here, I can tell,” Pam teased.

Her phone rang and she jumped, snatching it up to look at the caller ID. Her face betrayed the answer. It wasn’t Dev.

“Hey,” Pam answered with none of her usual bounce. “Got it, thanks!”

“No word then?”

“None.” Pam’s bright façade fell and Torie saw the hurt, worried woman underneath. “That was just a vendor.”

“Hey,” she murmured. “He’s smart and strong. He’ll be back.”

“Did you call his, I mean your, grandmother?”

“Great-grandmother, but yeah. I called.”

“And?”

“Nothing. I got the machine.”

“Oh.”

Into the silence, Torie’s phone rang. She, too, looked at the caller ID, but not with Pam’s enthusiasm. “Paul.”

“I’m right here for you, babe. Go for it.”

“Hello, Paul.”

She closed her eyes and listened as he asked where she was, when she’d be back, what she was doing. As if he really cared.

“I’ll be back to pick up my things. Is eight o’clock convenient?”

Pam snorted a laugh at her formal tone. Torie shushed her, trying to listen.

“Torie, I don’t know how I can ever apologize enough. I’d…I’d like it if you continued to stay here. I want to know you’re safe. I’d be, well, devastated if something happened to you.”

“Devastated? That’s interesting. Wow.” She put a note of derision in her answer. “Somehow I don’t feel welcome anymore, Paul. I’ll pick up my things. Pam’s booked me a room at the Marriott.”

“Which one?”

She told him and could hear him fumble for a pencil to jot it down. “I left a pen on the counter by the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Do you know the room number yet?”

“No.”

He sighed, and sounded sad, tired. “I’ll be here, Torie. Waiting for you. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

When she hung up, she didn’t know what to say.

“That was long and involved.” Pam’s neutral comment puzzled her more. After all these years, she was far more used to Pam dishing dirt on Paul, and heaping coals on the fire of Torie’s peevishness with him. Instead, she was silent.

“Yeah. He’s full of apologies.” It puzzled her.

“You gonna forgive him?”

Torie couldn’t believe her ears. “What? After what he said? Jeez, Pam, he practically called me a whore.”

“But he didn’t, did he?”

“No.”

“Never mind,” Pam said in one of her lightning changes of subject. “Let’s go shopping.”

“I’m not getting a dress.”

“Yes, you are. If nothing else, you’ll need it for the Spring Fling for the Chamber, and you literally have nothing you can wear. So shut up and let’s shop.”

By the time they got to Paul’s house, a little after eight, they’d found four dresses. Pam had insisted she buy all four, take them back to the hotel, and think about them.

“All right, all right. I’ll do it,” she said, finally giving in.

“Good. That black dress will be perfect with the shoes we bought.” She grinned at Torie. “I like being your personal shopper.”

“Yeah. Well, you gotta help me the way you’re helping Carlos. Hopefully, I’ll be able to go back to work on Monday, which means I’ll have less time to get both houses up and running.”

“I should start charging for this,” Pam said, joking. “Help people manage all this kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, you should,” Torie said, totally serious. “You’d be perfect at it.”

They rang the bell and Paul answered immediately, hurrying them inside.

“You don’t want to be standing out on the porch when someone’s trying to shoot you.”

“Oh. No. I guess not.” Now that she was with him again, in his house, she didn’t know what to do with herself. “I’ll get my things.”

“Let me help you,” Paul offered.

“That’s okay.”

He followed her anyway, after telling Pam to make herself at home.

“I know you need to do this, Torie. I don’t blame you.”

“Blame me? I should hope not.” Torie struggled to find the anger and hurt she’d felt the night before. Instead, she found nothing. She smoothed the covers on the bed, thinking briefly about their incredible lovemaking.

“Torie?”

“I need to get out of here,” she mumbled.

“You didn’t really get a chance to unpack.”

She busied herself tossing the few things she’d set out into the suitcases, stacking the cases together to roll them out.