“Are you really rich, by any chance?” he asked.
“Believe me, Tyler, if I were rich, I’d know.” She gave him an exasperated look. “If it hadn’t been for several well-timed checks from Daniel, I’d have been eating on five dollars a week more than once during my college career.”
“I remember. You’d spent too much on new clothes.” He smiled at her, recalling how he’d harassed Daniel into doing his brotherly duty. “He thought maybe he ought to let you starve so you’d quit school and get a job.” He thought a moment, trying to remember everything Daniel had said when their father had died. “Berry, is there something you aren’t telling me? Something you’ve forgotten about?”
She wrinkled her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Do you own any annuities, or an old building somewhere, or maybe some land or old jewelry from your mom?”
“Tyler, what you see is all there is.” She pushed a stray black curl off her honey-colored forehead. “I have Daniel’s life insurance money, and that’s it. When it’s gone, my investigation is over. Can we talk about something else now? Grady Craig is not my favorite subject.”
“There has to be some reason why this jerk came on to you so hard,” he said. “I’d like to know what it is.”
“If there’s something about me that attracts men like him, I’d rather remain forever ignorant.”
“Craig was interested in you for a reason,” Tyler repeated doggedly, more certain of it than ever. “We ought to find out what it was.”
She flung back her head. “I don’t want to know, thank you. If I could erase the entire thing from my memory, believe me, I would.”
“The guy was a con artist,” Tyler said, with enormous patience. “You said so yourself. That means you had something he wanted. What about your great-aunt Mary? Are you sure you don’t stand to inherit something from her?”
“Like what?” Berry resumed her dinner. “Even if she really had any money, Great-aunt Mary wouldn’t leave two cents to me. She hated us because Daddy told her she was a dried-up old witch with twisted priorities. She told him he could forget having himself or his children mentioned in any will of hers.”
Tyler shut up. It was obvious that Berry had no idea what Craig had wanted from her. His only consolation at the moment was the knowledge that Grady Craig, whoever he really was, had ruined himself forever with Berry Challoner.
But Craig had wanted her for a reason. Tyler thought suddenly of the dark car he kept seeing and frowned. Was it possible Berry was being followed? And if so, why? Next time he saw that car, he was getting the license plate number.
The whole thing was ridiculous, he suddenly thought. He had no imagination and he definitely wasn’t given to speculation. He was an accountant, and a darned good one. He dealt in facts that could be substantiated by figures, whether electronic or penciled.
Perhaps the adventure of working as an auto parts counter salesman had oiled his rusty imagination into taking off like this on the subject of Grady Craig.
He thrust the thought aside and concentrated on his dinner. One thing his imagination could handle, and handle well, was how that chocolate pie he had seen in his refrigerator was going to taste.
Another thing he could handle was Berry Challoner in his bed. He could hardly wait to finish the pie so he could taste Berry again.
• • •
Berry parked her green Mustang in the slot beside Tyler’s Porsche. Tired as she was, she had the joyous conviction that she was home at last. Coming home to Tyler felt so natural, it was hardly surprising that she already considered his apartment home.
She sat still a moment and analyzed what she felt. Of course, considering last night, and definitely after the day she’d had, deep gratitude and joy were hardly surprising.
She got out of the car slowly, sighing with weariness, and headed toward the stairs. Then she glanced up and saw Tyler on the landing waiting for her. He wore a pair of khaki trousers and a plaid shirt. The afternoon sun turned his brown hair into a halo of deep-red flame.
Oddly enough, he appeared to be staring at something beyond her. She turned but saw nothing other than a dark car gliding slowly past on the street behind her.
He leaned over the railing. “Have you ever seen that car before? It’s almost as if it’s following you.”
Berry stood at the foot of the staircase and looked up at him. “I haven’t noticed it before, but maybe I’ve picked up a stalker. After the day I’ve had, that would be the crowning glory.”
“Wait till I tell you about mine,” he said. “We can talk over a good dinner somewhere. You look too tired to cook, and I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Thanks, Tyler.” Berry climbed the stairs slowly, pausing on each step. “My feet are killing me. Do you think we can go someplace where I won’t have to wear high heels?”
“You can wear tennis shoes,” he promised, holding out his hand to help her make the last two steps. “What happened? Did old Felix chase you around his desk?”
“Something like that,” she admitted. “It’s been a long, dreary day.” She shook herself like a wet puppy. “But no one said this investigation was going to be easy.”
“Better get out of those clothes, honey.” Tyler studied her slim figure appreciatively. “Otherwise, I might forget myself and attack the bimbo in the yellow dress.”
“You can’t attack a dead person. It wouldn’t be fair.”
She wore a brief, sun-yellow suit with a bolero jacket trimmed in deep purple. Rather than button the jacket, she showed off a very sheer lilac blouse that revealed the lace of her bra. Worn with deep purple high heels and bright red lipstick, the outfit projected playful, sophisticated sexiness.
“In that case, we’d better see what can be done to revive you.” Tyler watched her limp down the hall to her bedroom. “I’ve never been into necrophilia.”
• • •
When Berry reappeared, dressed in a pair of dark trousers and a red silk shirt tied beneath her breasts, Tyler stood before his coffee table staring down at the chunk of rock.
“It’s a stealth-rock,” she said. “It’s a deadly weapon disguised as a decoration.”
“Why don’t you get a gun? At least it wouldn’t shed dirt all over the place.”
He glanced at her feet. She’d exchanged the high heels for a pair of flimsy, flat sandals. Otherwise, she was still Mary MacGregor, violet eyes and all.
“Relax,” he said. “We’re going to a Chinese place nearby. You won’t see anyone from Farley Brothers there.”
“How do you know? I can’t afford to let my guard down for one minute, considering everything I’ve gone through to get in at Farley Brothers.”
“I’m beginning to hate that name,” Tyler grumbled.
Berry laughed. “You aren’t the only one. They’ll never sell me an auto part, even if I live to be a hundred.”
The Chinese restaurant sat like an island in the middle of a huge parking lot that was half-full. He looked at the broad, tiered blocks of concrete steps they’d have to climb and rejoiced that she had left her heels at home. He’d probably have had to carry her up.
The restaurant was crowded, but they didn’t wait long for a booth. Tyler advised her about sesame chicken and egg rolls and ordered coffee to be brought immediately.
After placing their orders, he leaned back. “All right. Tell me what happened today.”
“You name it, and it happened.” She received her coffee with a look of profound gratitude. “I didn’t find out a single useful thing today, except that Mr. Corrigan is coming tomorrow with demands for a one-on-one interview with Felix.”
“That should be interesting, especially if you can manage to overhear the conversation.” Tyler saw renewed vigor animate her weary face at this challenge and felt inordinately pleased.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find a way,” she said fiercely.
“I spent the morning being ordered up and down those mile-long warehouse aisles with
out a minute to stop and count anything. Now they’re trying to teach me how to look up parts on their computer. Frankly, it’s a losing proposition.”
“Come on, Tyler,” Berry said, chuckling at his expression. “If they can do it, you can do it.”
“The problem is, I don’t want to do it,” he grumbled. “Plus, in order to look up a part, I have to know what it is. Frankly, the only thing good about that job is that I’m learning to appreciate my own quiet office.”
He was pleased to see the sparkle return to Berry’s face. “See? I knew you needed a vacation.”
“Some vacation. Tell me what happened with Felix today.”
She sat staring at her coffee cup for a moment as if gathering courage. “You were right about Felix. Mr. Corrigan was gone, so I had no excuse not to go into his office when he called me.” She shivered. “What a creep.”
Tyler leaned forward, suddenly and irrationally furious. “Did he make a pass at you?”
Berry nodded and wouldn’t look at him. “I mean, I expected him to—to try and kiss me and—and things, but I thought I could handle that.”
Tyler was silent while he mastered the all-encompassing rage that swept through him. He should never have let her hire on at Farley Brothers dressed like an expensive mistress.
“And don’t bother saying, ‘I told you so,’ because I’m perfectly willing to admit you were right.” She smiled shakily. “I had no idea how to handle him. He had an answer for everything I said. He kept coming on and coming on until he had me bent back over his desk. Tyler, he actually wanted to make love to me on his desk. I was so grossed out, I couldn’t think of a single viable excuse.”
Berry sounded so outraged, Tyler almost laughed in spite of the fury that pounded through his veins. “How did you escape?”
“Concetta walked in on us. Can you believe that? He didn’t lock the door.” She took a healthy swallow of coffee and added, “I could have kissed her.”
Tyler opened his mouth then closed it again. When he’d mastered himself, he said, “Maybe he planned the show to let Concetta know she had no hold over him.”
“You may be right,” she said. “That was the conclusion I came to later. Anyway, there I was on his desk, with my skirt up and his hands all over me. I was so embarrassed I could have died. But she saved me, Tyler. If she hadn’t come in, I’d have had to do something desperate.”
“Like what?” He glared, still furious at Felix, and at Berry for being so naïve as to think she could fend off an experienced libertine like Felix with mere words. “If he had you on his desk with your skirt up, it was already too late.”
“No, it wasn’t. There was a crystal paperweight on his desk. I already had my hand on it when Concetta walked in.” She flushed. “These days, I always make sure there’s a rock or a paperweight around whenever there’s a man nearby.”
Tyler’s scowl deepened. “Are you telling me that rock on my coffee table was put there in case what happened last night in the kitchen happened in the living room?”
Her purple gaze met his and flashed away. “In case you failed to notice, I encouraged what happened last night. So why would I use the rock on you?”
“I’ve been afraid to ask.” He noted her flushed cheeks and decided he’d better cease his line of questioning. “I hope this warns you to be better prepared next time you go into Felix’s office alone. In fact, I’d suggest you stay out of his office at all costs.”
He hoped she had received a sufficient fright to come to that conclusion on her own, but he had learned the hard way not to trust a female to arrive at the same conclusions a male would. Still, according to Daniel, Berry had quite a temper when sufficiently provoked.
“Did you really dump a bowl of spaghetti over Daniel’s head?” he asked.
Berry gave him a demure smile. “Don’t worry, Tyler. I promise not to dump a bowl of anything over your head. No way would you ever manage to deserve it the way Daniel usually did.”
He considered himself warned and shut up.
“Tell me about your sisters,” Berry said, after a moment of silence. “They seem so different from each other, I was fascinated. It was too bad I had to stay in character, or I’d have enjoyed meeting them.”
He launched into a description of Debra’s aspirations in the field of society journalism and her engagement to a man he hoped could corral her dramatic leanings.
“Kelley wants to be a vet, of all things. She’s majoring in biology. It has Dad so baffled, he wonders if she’s really a member of our family.”
Berry chuckled. “I know what you mean. I was the only person interested in science in my family. They could never figure out why.”
By the time Berry’s sesame chicken arrived, her enthusiasm and energy had returned. She walked out of the restaurant on Tyler’s arm, talking happily about her plan for listening in on Felix Farley’s heart-to-heart talk with the auditor Nathaniel Corrigan—assuming it actually took place.
“Maybe I’ll be able to find out some figures for you to check out,” she said, purple eyes glowing. “If I do, I’ll text you to do a count on the spot.”
Tyler agreed. He forbore commenting on the fact that the figures several months back would be different from today’s count. She would probably consider facts no excuse for failing to convict Felix Farley of fraud and murder.
They began the long descent down the wide tiers of concrete steps, and Tyler glanced at the cars coming and going on the long, circular drive that led to the restaurant. The area was so well lit, they might have been standing outside in broad daylight, even though it was eight o’clock and the sun was nearing the horizon.
A dark sedan with tinted windows cruised slowly out of the parking lot and crawled at a snail’s speed up the drive. The hair on the back of Tyler’s neck stirred gently. Some atavistic sense told him danger approached, even as his conscious mind ridiculed the idea. But the car looked a lot like—
Someone shoved him hard from behind. Tyler fell headfirst down the tall stairs, dragging Berry with him. She slowed his fall enough for him to twist and get his arms around her. Somehow, he managed to protect her from the worst. They rolled to the bottom of the stairs in a flurry of legs and elbows.
As they fell, four distinct, rapid gunshots rang out in the abrupt stillness. Bullets slapped into the stairs above them with solid thunks. They shot down the remainder of the stairs headfirst and rolled to a halt on the concrete below.
Screams rang out and men yelled. People nearby dove to the ground. Someone behind them yelled in pain. The world became a kaleidoscope of sound and flashes of light and color. Tyler hugged Berry beneath him in a world gone suddenly mad and felt her fingernails digging into the back of his neck.
Tyler heard the sound of a gunning engine, then screeching tires, then silence. Not more than a few seconds had elapsed since he’d begun his fall down the stairs. He raised his head cautiously.
Above them on the steps, a well-dressed man lay clutching his blood-splattered thigh. Everything remained strangely still and silent for a moment, then movement and sound began once more in surreal slow-motion.
“He’s gone!” A teenage boy crawled out from beneath a car, gasping with excitement. “It was a black Corolla with a man inside.”
“Better save it for the police,” Tyler grated, profoundly shaken. Adrenaline raged through his body, but there was no one for him to fight. “Get some help for that man.” He helped Berry sit up. “Berry? Are you all right?”
“I think so.” She panted and trembled but remained game. “If you hadn’t protected me, I’d probably have broken every bone I have.” Clutching his arm, she shuddered with shock and residual fright. Her red silk blouse would never be the same, but she was alive. “What about you? That was some fall.”
He knelt beside her on the concrete, staring at the long gouges in the concrete above them while he hugged her tightly and measured where he’d been standing when he began to fall.
According to his calculat
ions, Berry had narrowly escaped death. One-tenth of a second later, and the first bullet would have struck her head. The second one, the one that had seared a long gouge in one of the steps, would have pierced her body.
“Who were they shooting at?” Berry asked, clenching her teeth against the tremors that shook her.
Tyler swallowed. “I don’t know.”
She could have died before he had a chance to marry her. Tyler forced himself to rise to his feet, in spite of a desire to continue shielding Berry with his own body. He measured the area visually with a calm that was at odds with the state of his insides.
What he saw did not comfort him. The bullet meant for Berry’s head had traveled on and hit the man who had been a couple of steps above them on the wide, wooden stairs.
“They must have been aiming at that poor man behind us,” she said. She added, in tones of censure, “I thought assassins always took care to check the gun sights before they did a job.”
Even at a distance, Tyler could see the wounded man’s Rolex watch and diamond ring. Hope rose within him. Maybe he was wrong about thinking the bullets had been intended for Berry. “Who do you think he is?”
“Maybe he’s a Mafia don or something, poor thing.”
Tyler grimaced. The man had expensively styled blond hair and cold, blue eyes of Anglo-Saxon extraction. At the moment, Tyler would have given anything if he could think the gunman was settling a score with a Mafia don.
“He looks more like an executive,” he compromised. “I’d hate to think we’re starting to see disgruntled stockholders and customers putting out contracts on top management.”
Berry smiled. It was a faint, wavering smile, but it warmed Tyler’s chilled heart. He sat back down beside her and hugged her close. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
“Me? What about you?” She clutched him. “Thanks for saving me, Tyler. If you hadn’t pulled me down, I might have been shot. How’d you know they were about to start shooting?”
Tyler blinked. His brain seemed to have shifted into slow gear. He thought suddenly of the powerful shove against his back. But he hadn’t noticed anyone close enough to them on the stairs to put that kind of power into a push.
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