Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“Hey,” Tibbet whistled from the doorway. “Nice room.”

“Ha, ha,” Paul faked a laugh. “Hand me that garbage can.”

Tibbet brought the can and held it as Paul tossed the last load of glass into it.

“So what was the bet?”

“I said the crazy would go for you again. Get you out of the way so your girl was left unprotected.”

He let the “your girl” part slide by him. He hoped he could make it true.

“Yeah, so Marsden thought he’d go for Torie again? We both have someone watching her, right?”

“Yep, sitting in the lobby as we speak.”

“Great,” he said, and meant it. “Mine, too.”

Another officer came down the hall and spoke to Tibbet. “No luck, Detective. No casing, no nothing.”

“Smart bastard,” Tibbet muttered. “Too smart. He’s getting predictable. Pushing the time limit. He hardly gave it a day between shooting twice at you. That’s what we call an escalating tendency to violence.”

“Focused on me.”

“Right now.”

“Nice. But better me than Torie.”

“Yeah, thought you’d see it that way. So,” Tibbet paused, eyeing him, “were you schtupping the bride before the wedding? Is that why Peterson called it off?”

Paul stared for a moment. “Hell, no,” he protested. “She didn’t like me at all.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Why was she so hell-bent on keeping you away?”

“Because she didn’t like me.”

“Didn’t. Past tense, right? So, you had this thing for her for a long time? Did your friend know?”

“What? No.”

“Look,” Tibbet said, putting his notebook away. “Let’s talk here, off the record, as you’re so fond of sayin’. What’s more important, your pride or her safety?”

“Her safety, of course.”

“Then spill it.”

“Torie and I have a history.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Tibbet snorted. “You’ve known her longer’n most people have known their wives. Just tell me what happened.”

“There was a fraternity party…” Paul started the story, and found he had to sit down to tell it. His knees were shaking. “We were all drinking, but Torie doesn’t drink that much. So suddenly she disappears.”

“You two were dating at that point?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I was interested in her, though. One of the senior brothers had invited her to the party, but he was off smoking a—” Paul grinned, realizing he was talking to a cop—“cigarette.”

“I’ll bet. So?”

“So I was watching to see if I could talk to her. I wanted to ask her out. But she was gone. When she didn’t come back in a few minutes, and her date was feeling no pain with a bunch of the guys on the deck, I went looking for her.”

“Altruistic of you,” Tibbet drawled.

“Not really, though she thinks it’s real white knight kind of stuff. I had a vested interest. So, I go upstairs, I ask around. Somebody tells me one of the brothers helped her upstairs, and that she wasn’t feeling too well.”

“I take it that didn’t sit right with you.”

“No. The frat was already on probation for violating policies about people sleeping over, and I knew she wasn’t with anyone.”

“Not a party girl?”

“No. Not that way. She enjoyed a party, but I’d never heard of her going for the wilder stuff. Anyway,” Paul said, remembering all too vividly how he’d found her, “I found her in an unused room, tied to the bed, naked and drugged. In the space of fifteen minutes, she’d gone from nursing one beer—to that. Whoever did it worked fast.”

“Not Todd then.”

“No, not his style. Besides, he was singing karaoke in the dining room with four of the other guys.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No, neither of us were dating her at the time, so it didn’t occur to me to tell him. I got her untied and dressed, and took her to my room. Stuck my finger down her throat and got her to throw up whatever shit they gave her.” The memory of her quaking body, miserable and shaking, nearly made him sick. “She refused to go to the health center, and I was too dumb and scared to insist. She was sick for an hour. I got her a washcloth, helped her get cleaned up. Later, I sneaked her out of the house and got her back to her dorm. When I checked on her the next day, she said she was okay and only wanted to forget it.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah, I think she did, but she never came to another party. I asked her out.”

“Did she go?”

“Yeah, we had one date. It got hot and heavy, then I said something stupid, something about the birth-mark she has on her back, and broke the mood. She accused me of only asking her out because I thought she was some kind of kinky tramp. I denied it, and we went at it for a bit at the top of our lungs. We both calmed down and apologized, but it was our only date.”

Paul realized now, so late in the game, that he had pushed her away. He’d been so worried about her, but then to have her be so passionate, so sexy, so strong and stable, in spite of the near-rape at the party, had blown his mind. Scared the hell out of him.

“That was a bonehead move, man.”

“Tell me,” Paul said. “I’m still paying for it eleven years later.”

“Real bonehead. So when’d she hook up with Peterson?”

“Couple of months later at a dance. He asked me what I thought of her, and I told him I thought she was great. He beamed and agreed.” Paul could still see Todd’s happy grin. He had been delighted that elegant Torie Hagen had decided to go out with him. Paul had been stricken. If Todd, with his upper-class ways won Torie, he, Paul would never have a chance.

“You ever tell him you dated her?”

“Yeah, but I told him there wasn’t any chemistry.”

“So you lied,” Tibbet said blandly.

Paul looked him in the eye and with a straight face, answered. “Like a damn dog.”

“You have a list of the brothers who were at this party?”

“No. It was eleven years ago.”

Tibbet watched him, then cocked his head. “Seems to me, Mister Off the Record, that you track shit. You watch. Bide your time. Now, if you weren’t the one gettin’ shot at, I might be looking at you for this. You’ve got the patience for it.” His smile was feral when he turned it Paul’s way. When Paul didn’t react, he smiled more fully. “Whatever this is, whoever’s doing it, it’s about real deep anger, backed by a lot of patient planning. This shot tonight was panic. Stupid. He’s covered his tracks, but he got rash. He thought we’d follow Torie. Stick only to her.”

“Mistake.”

“Big one. But back to you. You store information away, keep lists. You kept lists of the incidents that happened to your buddy and client, Peterson, although your buddy blew them off as chance or coincidence.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“So, this is a woman you have had a thing for. For eleven years. I’m betting you kept a list of all the guys that were there that night. Who it might have been. Who it wasn’t. I need that list.”

For several minutes, the silence hung between them. They faced off like two stallions, circling one another, deciding whether or not to leap for each other’s throats.

Finally Paul dropped his gaze. “I’ll dig it out.”

Chapter Seventeen

“So, what’s on the docket for today?” Pam asked as they drove back toward the dealership.

“Buy the Chrysler, and talk to Kuhman again about the house.”

“You want me to come with you?”

Torie looked at her friend. “You’d play hooky again today?”

Pam smiled. “Yeah. I feel like I’ve neglected you during all this. I got involved with Dev, who turned out to be the great disappearing jerk, and left my best friend in the world to dangle on her own when her house burned down.”