Compromising Positions

by Beverly Bird

  Her heart scurried. The implications of what they were saying finally dawned on her. She looked at Jesse again. She hated it, but her eyes filled.

  “I can fight back this time,” she whispered.

  “Sure you can.”

  “But not in your home,” Kennery continued.

  She looked back at him quickly, feeling the first fingers of panic curl around her stomach. “Why not?”

  “It would be too hard to keep it tight. Anybody even looking in your window would know what we were up to.”

  “Anybody looking in my window will know I’m not there,” she pointed out desperately.

  “He’d have to sit there and watch the place twenty-four hours a day to be sure of that,” Jesse said. “You’re a busy woman. We’ll just have to gamble that he’s not going to be able to do that. We have to gamble that he’ll assume you’re going in and out while he’s not watching.”

  “Whereas if he looks in once and sees a detective watching over me, he might guess what’s going on,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “We need a center of operations anyway that’s not your home,” Jesse pointed out, “or your office, or my home, or my office, for that matter.”

  Kennery raised a brow at that, then apparently decided not to question it. “Can you put your lights on an automatic timer?”

  “Actually, I have two automatic timers.”

  “That’s even better,” he said. “Have one set do the lights one way tonight, then have the other set do them another way tomorrow.”

  “For this to work,” Jesse said quietly, “this guy has to be tricked into doing something during the period you’re covered.”

  Angela finally nodded. “Okay.” She would do anything to beat Charlie Price at his own treacherous games. And this time she had help.

  Her throat closed suddenly and hard. Jesse must have read something in her face, because his hand came back, covering hers where she gripped the chair arm.

  “We’ll put you in a hotel,” Kennery said. “Four people will know of it. Us, and whatever detective I put on you.”

  “A woman,” Jesse said without inflection.

  Angela squirmed. I’m not fragile. I’m not broken. But in truth, she knew she would not be able to sleep, would not be able to eat, would not be able to do anything while a man she didn’t know hovered around her, watching her most intimate behavior and daily routines. She finally looked at Kennery again and knew in that instant that he had seen this morning’s paper, as well. Her face flamed.

  Jesse wanted to kill Charlie Price all over again. Then he wanted to get his hands on that reporter. And his uncle was still pretty high up on the list.

  “Fine,” Kennery answered. “I’ve got a few women on board. In fact, Melanie Kaminsky is on a couple of cold cases right now. I can spare her.”

  “Good,” Jesse said, standing. He reached for Kennery’s phone.

  “Where will you put her?” Roger asked.

  “The Four Seasons. And we’re going to use a fictitious name. Just to be safe.”

  Angela sucked in a harsh breath. “For God’s sake, Jesse, that place is upward of two hundred and fifty a night! I’m not spending that!”

  “You can afford it,” he said quietly. “Give up your vacation in Rome.”

  And then she understood. She wasn’t twenty-one anymore. She wasn’t on a scholarship anymore. Charlie Price had nothing she needed.

  His smile was not one she ever wanted to see directed her way. It was almost...feral. But in spite of everything, though she never would have dreamed it possible, Angela laughed hoarsely.

  Kennery watched on disconsolately. “Fill me in someday,” he muttered.

  Jesse finally moved his gaze from Angela to the homicide captain. “Roger, I’ll do it personally, just to see your face when you understand.”

  “Now what?” Angela asked a little breathlessly as they got back into his car.

  “A few things,” Jesse answered. “And the quicker we do them and get this settled, the better. I don’t want too much of a break in your regular routine.”

  She shuddered. “You think he’s watching me.”

  “I’d bet on it. And I’m not a gambling man. But like I said back in Kennery’s office, he can’t do it around the clock. He’s an attorney who’s running for D.A. He’s got to take care of appearances too, that’s our edge.”

  He realized that while he had been shocked this morning, things were beginning to click unconsciously into place. But he wondered again why Charlie would risk ruining himself now. If Angela brought the whole thing up again, he could come right back with the fact that the case had been thrown out of court.

  Of course, as Angela had said, that might not matter. It probably wouldn’t matter any more than the fact that Jesse hadn’t killed Lisette Chauncy. Even the hint of a scandal was often enough to topple a campaign.

  Still, murder seemed excessive. He laughed wryly at the understatement. Angela looked over at him sharply.

  “I’m inclined to think there are some stakes here that we don’t know about,” he speculated aloud. “There has to be something else going on that makes this risk he’s taking worthwhile. Even before I knew all this, when I was reading the paper this morning, I was wondering why he’d make the switch from defense to prosecution. Now I’ve got to wonder why he wants my D.A. seat so damned badly that he’s going to all these lengths.”

  “Maybe he always planned to run for office,” she whispered. “Then I came back to Philly eight months ago like a skeleton falling out of his closet.”

  He understood better now why she had. Courage, he thought. A refusal to cower, to give way to helplessness.

  “I think,” Jesse said slowly. “that between the two of us, Charlie Price might just have finally met his match.”

  Angela swallowed carefully and closed her eyes. She was sure of it now. No matter what he said about concrete evidence, he believed her. “Jesse,” she asked quietly. “is there any possibility that I can take the rest of the day off?”

  He looked at her sharply. “I’m not your boss.”

  She combed her hair back with her fingers. “You know what I mean. Tactically.”

  He considered her request. “Actually, I think it would be brilliant. It’ll please him. He’ll think you’re distraught over this morning’s paper.”

  “I am.”

  He looked at her. “What can I do, angel?”

  Her throat closed all over again. “Nothing.” She shook her head. “You’re doing so much.”

  “You’re not alone this time, angel. I’m not going to toss you to the wolves and walk away.”

  Tears threatened. She covered her face with her hands and groaned.

  He was overwhelmed. She was strong, yet fragile. She was brave, yet scared. And she was thoroughly shaken by the simple idea that she had someone on her side. How had she been duking it out on her own for so long?

  Angela sniffed and dropped her hands again. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine. Let’s trap this jerk. I’m ready.”

  She wasn’t fine.

  “I can’t do this,” she complained half an hour later. “It’s impossible. I can’t get three days’ worth of clothes into a medical bag.”

  “If you walk out of here with a whole suitcase, he’ll know something’s up,” Jesse countered reasonably.

  “I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

  “You drive me crazy when you’re not.”

  They grinned at each other, then she turned back to her bedroom closet. Jesse watched her from the door, one shoulder leaning lazily against the frame. He pushed away from it and came up behind her. He looped his arms around her waist. She stiffened, then relaxed, and he thought possibly the whole process took a little less time than it might have a few days ago.

  “What about the dress you wore to the wedding?” he asked.

  “It was red.”

  “I definitely remember that,” he murmured, half-smiling again. />
  “I can’t make red look different three days in a row.”

  “Maybe not, but it was...uh, small. You could cram that into your bag and use up minimum space. Have it ironed when you get to the hotel. Wear it on Thursday.” He reached around her and pushed through the hangers until he came to a plain black skirt. “What’s this?”

  She craned her neck around to look at him. “What does it look like?”

  “I can’t picture you in it.”

  She sniffed. “I bought it for a funeral. I didn’t want to offend anyone.”

  “That explains it.” Gradually, he felt tension filling her again. “What’s wrong now?”

  “If I wear that to work, then he’s even invading the way I dress,” she said in a small voice.

  “No,” he said sharply. “You’re playing with him this time. You’re temporarily altering those things that are within your means to alter. The power has moved over onto your side, angel. You’re not just sitting blind, taking blows.”

  Angel. She realized that she really loved it when he called her that. It made her feel like someone good, pure, worthwhile.

  “Okay,” she said, “the black skirt. I can wear it with this yellow blouse tomorrow, wear the red on Thursday, then switch back to the black with flats and this great big T-shirt thing on Friday.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Friday is dress-down day.”

  “In my office, too.”

  “The mayor hates it. City image and all.”

  “Well, he won’t be around all that much longer.” He grimaced.

  She didn’t see the reflex. “Sandals.” she decided, bending to grab a pair. “Not flats, but sandals.”

  Jesse backed away from her carefully. When she bent over like that, her bottom moved provocatively against him, and everything inside him heated and responded.

  Do you know I don’t think I ever really believed you’d consider me to be tainted? Her voice came back to him, soft and seductive with its own vulnerability. He did not consider himself to be anyone’s hero, or even a man above reproach. He did not consider her to be tainted, and was even angered by the term she’d chosen. He was infuriated by what Charlie had done to her, both during and after the actual act, but he was not put off by it.

  It only...quelled him.

  He wanted her. And for the first time in his life, he honestly didn’t know what to do about it. He could not just rely upon his own innate male responses. He thought that with any other woman, he might have laughingly grabbed her and pulled her back against him. And he wondered, too, if his physical reaction. if his need, would be as urgent and demanding with any other woman.

  He had always held a piece of himself back in his relationships, giving only what he wanted and had time to give. Until he’d met someone who held back from him for the very necessary sake of emotional survival, who forced all his emotions to come boiling to the surface.

  She had straightened away from the closet and was thrusting the sandals into her bag. She paused at his expression. “Jesse?”

  He shook himself. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about all this.”

  He saw panic flit over her face, and it hurt him. “In what respect?”

  “Charlie,” he answered, not quite lying. “Putting him behind bars for a long, long time.”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  He went to the phone beside the bed and punched in a number. She got the impression that he was talking to Kennery, and she was right.

  “Melanie is already at the hotel.”

  “Good.”

  “We’re going to have to part ways now, angel. I don’t want to drive over there blaring horns and waving banners. In fact, you might want to change cabs on your way, maybe stop at your office briefly. Don’t go straight to the hotel. Don’t lead him there.”

  She understood. If he went with her, someone might remember his face, while they probably would not recognize hers as easily. Or Charlie might be watching them.

  “Let me leave here, then I’ll catch up with you later,” he added.

  She wondered if he meant that literally, if he’d come to the hotel or simply call. She nodded again and gathered up her bag, realizing that she very much hoped he would come by in person.

  Chapter 15

  Jesse had reserved her a suite.

  Angela slid her card key into the door to unlock it and stepped inside to find Melanie Kaminsky curled up on the sofa like a cat might with a pile of feathers before it. The woman had a soft drink in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Her eyes were glued to the television.

  “Hi there,” the detective said, standing reluctantly and looking her way. “Want something to drink? The refrigerator is loaded.”

  Angela gave a little laugh as she looked around. “They probably want six bucks for a can of soda.”

  Melanie stopped dead and stared at her. “Do you think so? Nah, no way.”

  “I’ll bet you a dollar.”

  “You’re on.”

  And that simply, that easily, they were friends.

  “Wait until you see the bed,” Melanie said as they dug through the refrigerator. “It’s the size of Kansas.”

  Angela found some cheese and crackers. “I’d like it all even better if I wasn’t paying for it,” she muttered, standing again and looking around.

  Melanie put her can down quickly as though it had scalded her. “You are?”

  Angela smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to submit the bill to the city as soon as this mess is over.”

  “In that case, there’s guacamole on the room service menu. Fourteen bucks with tortilla chips of gold.”

  Angela managed to laugh. “Let’s get some.”

  They ordered and ate, watching afternoon talk shows. Angela felt her eyes growing heavier by the moment.

  “You ought to rest,” Melanie said finally.

  “I think I’d like to.” She was exhausted, she realized, drained.

  “Would you mind leaving the bedroom door open?” Melanie suggested.

  Angela looked at her quizzically.

  “I’ve had my experience with defense attorneys. When this blows up, I want to be able to say I literally never took my eyes off you. Your toes will suffice. You can’t easily go trekking around the city without your toes.”

  Angela nodded, then she scowled. “So when are you supposed to sleep?”

  “I’m a homicide detective. I’m not supposed to need to.”

  Angela laughed half-heartedly.

  “When you go to your office, I’ll catch some shut-eye,” Melanie explained. “Of course, then it will be your responsibility to make sure others have you present and accounted for at all times. Like your secretary, for instance, or your deputies. Your coworkers in general. Whatever you do, don’t take any crime scenes by yourself until this is over.”

  “But there are plenty of other people at crime scenes,” Angela protested.

  “But not driving to and from. That’s all the time this guy might need to say you were elsewhere.”

  Angela groaned. It was overwhelming. She had never realized before how easy it could be to frame a person. Who wasn’t alone at some point during a day?

  “I want this guy,” she said. “I want this to be over.”

  Melanie nodded sympathetically. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

  “Anything,” Angela repeated fiercely.

  “I promise.”

  Melanie was as good as her word. Angela felt as though she had barely fallen asleep when the woman woke her. She was curled on her side, her hands clasped in front of her face. Even in her sleep, she realized dismally, she was warding off blows.

  She became aware of a presence standing above her, then Melanie cleared her throat.

  “Dr. Byerly?” she said softly. “I think you should see this.”

  Angela sat up groggily. “What is it?”

  “The news. Hurry.”

  Angela got to her feet and followed Mela
nie into the living room. She sat down on the sofa, studying the television blearily. After a second, her vision cleared and Jesse’s face swam into view. He was giving a press conference.

  Charlie must have been at it again. Now what? At that moment, she felt incapable of watching, of absorbing any more.

  “Your bad guy must have tipped off the media this afternoon,” Melanie said. “They said this was taped a short while ago.”

  “What time is it?” Angela asked.

  “About five. You didn’t sleep very long.”

  Angela listened. Jesse’s handsome face was granite, but she thought she could see that nerve ticking in his lower jaw again.

  “Is it true that a device used to fake a tape of your voice was found at her home?” someone called out.

  “No comment.”

  “Where is this machine now?” someone else asked.

  Jesse’s expression broke for a moment almost too quickly to be noticed, but Angela caught it. He very nearly smiled. Her heart thumped. She knew what he was thinking. If the question had been asked, then Charlie hadn’t leaked the splicer’s whereabouts to the press. Because Charlie didn’t know that. He didn’t know she had turned it into Kennery’s office.

  “We’ve been told it was found in Dr. Byerly’s home,” someone shouted again.

  “That’s absolutely not true,” Jesse said. “The authorities didn’t find a tape-splicing machine in Dr. Byerly’s home.”

  “We’ve also been told that Dr. Byerly was not in her office today. Has she fled the city?”

  “I would have to doubt that,” Jesse said shortly. “She would have no reason to.”

  “So where is she?” someone demanded.

  “I have no idea where she is at this time.”

  Melanie gave a bark of laughter. “Sure. You could be in the living room, in the bathroom. For that matter, you could be down in the lobby. Damn, he’s good.”

  “Yes.” Angela whispered.

  “What about the hair?” another reporter called out.

  “What about it?” Jesse hedged coldly.

  “We’re told that no one actually saw it on the body except Dr. Byerly. Could she have planted it?”