He closed the door softly. He stepped in close and gazed upon a sleeping Kasey Atwood.
She’s beautiful, he thought. Her facial features in repose seemed even more gentle and fragile, her slightly parted lips soft and full A strand of silky hair crossed her cheek. He wanted to lift it, tuck it behind her ear as he’d watched her do dozens of times. He wanted to lean down and kiss those soft, full lips, wake her with a kiss like in the fairy tale.
Instead, he stood above her, content for now just to watch her sleep.
*
Even before Kasey opened her eyes she knew she was not at home in her own bed. Her neck felt stiff, one arm was asleep. She awoke to pale luminous light, no sound, and the feeling that she was not alone, that she was being watched.
Jay King, standing above her, his wet hair combed straight back, gazed at her with a slightly puzzled expression.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She sat up, rubbed her neck. “What time is it?”
“After one. Are you on overtime?” he asked softly, in keeping with the quiet surroundings. “Or are you just overly dedicated to the job?”
“More like hiding out.”
He stepped toward her. “Hiding out? What do you mean?”
She lifted her arm by the elbow, pins and needles now stabbing into the numbness. “Our security friend, I ran into him in a bar tonight. He followed me home. Well, almost home. I turned back and came here. But he stayed right on my tail. Tried to run me off the road, in fact.”
“Jesus,” he knelt, took her hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I managed to ditch him at the McCarran exit. I came here, called security. They’re looking for the car.”
“You’re sure it was him?”
“As—” She cleared her throat. “Could I have some water, please?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.
Jay squeezed her hand. He went into his office, returned with a glass of water, and handed it to her. When she spilled some trying to shift around on the sofa, Jay dabbed at it with his towel.
She drank half of it before speaking. “Thanks. I’m sorry, what did you ask me?”
“The security guard, you’re sure it was him?”
“As sure as I can be. The lighting in the bar was dim, but it looked like him. He was wearing one of those billed caps, but I recognized his eyes. He has very distinctive eyes. Slanted. Somewhat Mongolian.”
“Why would he try to run you off the road? You think he knows you’re suspicious of him?”
“He may be putting it together. I was with Brad when he went after Paula Volger in the parking garage.” At the mention of Brad’s name, Kasey recalled her encounter with him in Jay’s office a short time ago. Should she tell Jay? No, she decided quickly, not just yet.
“And you saw him since?” Jay asked.
“Yesterday. He saw me talking to Paula in the downstairs bar. He may have seen Dianne and me together or maybe he was watching your house this afternoon when you and I and Detective Loweman showed up. He’s not waiting for us to find him. He’s meeting us halfway.” She nodded. “Yes, damnit, he knows.”
“When you saw him in the bar yesterday, was he in uniform?”
“The man I saw was. Yes.”
“What time was that?”
“Between five and six. I know what you’re thinking, but it still doesn’t narrow it down. The shifts overlap two hours.”
Jay sighed heavily. He looked past her, frowned. “You say he was wearing a cap tonight. What color?”
“Black or deep blue. It was dark in the bar. His shirt was dark, too.”
Jay whirled around and threw the rolled-up towel against the wall. “Shit. The sonofabitch was in the elevator with me. He was on my floor. I didn’t get a good look at his face; he kept his head down. But I remember the black cap. I thought there was something weird about the way he was acting. Evasive. He was going down to the lobby, so I didn’t dwell on it.”
“When was this?”
“Less than an hour ago—Dianne.” Jay reached into the pocket of his sweat suit, pulled out a cellular phone, and began to punch buttons. He paced as he waited. “Pick up.” Pick up, damnit. Dianne, thank God. Are you all right? Has anyone called or come to the door? Okay, listen, I’m on my way up. Don’t open the door to anyone, under any circumstances, do you understand? Especially if it’s a security officer. No, no, it’s probably nothing. I’ll be there in three, four minutes. Use the peephole, and don’t open until you’re certain it’s me.” He hung up and turned to Kasey. “The bastard. He’s having a real good time.”
Kasey pushed hair out of her eyes, shook her head. She rose from the sofa, crossed to the dimmer, and turned it. Light filled the room.
Jay strode to the door, paused. “What about you? What are your plans for tonight?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“I don’t want you leaving the hotel. He may be waiting for you.”
“Then I’ll get a room. For now, I thought I might check the monitors, see if I can spot him.”
Jay took her arm. “Forget that. It’s late. You’re coming with me,” he said. “Our suite has two bedrooms. If this character is on to you, I can’t have you wandering around the empty halls alone. After tonight, there’ll be a room available for you at all times.”
“Jay, I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can. Humor me.”
On the way up to the top floor, Jay used the cellular to call security and surveillance. Several minutes later, Dianne cautiously opened the door to the suite. If she were surprised to see Kasey with her husband, she didn’t show it.
“What’s happened?” she questioned, stepping aside to let them in. “Is he here in the hotel?”
A thick layer of cigarette smoke floated in the air. The phone on the bar rang. Jay went to answer it. While he talked on the phone, Kasey filled Dianne in. She told her about spotting him in the bar, her race across town to the hotel, and finally about Jay being in the elevator with him.
“Who is he? Why does he want to hurt us? What have we done to him? Can’t the police protect us?” Dianne asked with an irritated edge to her voice.
Jay put down the receiver and joined them. “That was the security shift supervisor. He’s got men looking for him, watching the exits. They’re also checking the lots for a black Camaro.”
“Did you mention he might be a fellow officer?” Kasey asked.
He shook his head. “No. No telling who he’s in contact with around here. We have to speed this up a bit, though. First thing in the morning, we’ll go to the station and have a look through the police cards. We have at least six possibles. We need a name and address to go with a face.”
“What if he’s only posing as a security employee?” Kasey suggested.
“We’ll find that out tomorrow.”
There was a knock at the door.
“That’s security.” Jay kissed Dianne lightly on the temple and headed for the foyer. “Get Kasey settled for the night in the other bedroom. I’ll be back soon.”
“Where are you going?” Dianne asked.
“To the eye. The camera should have gotten him on tape in the elevator lobby.”
“Jay, no.”
“One man will patrol the floor and watch the elevator and stairway. The other will go with me. I doubt if this crackpot would be dumb enough to attack me in a public place with armed guards around. And if he does, then he does. I can’t—won’t, allow some punk to keep me holed up in one of my own suites.”
“Wait,” Kasey said before he reached the door. She went ahead of him into the foyer and peered through the fisheye in the door. Two bare-headed, uniformed guards stared blankly into the lens. Neither man was the one they were looking for. She stepped back. “Okay.”
‘‘Lock up,” Jay said, joining the guards in the corridor.
Chapter Twenty-Five
In the dream, Kasey treaded water in the middle of the hotel swimming pool. It was dark. Icy-blue rays rol
led in waves over the walls and ceiling. She smelled chlorine and mildew and a trace of familiar aftershave. All very mystical, as dreams go.
As her legs and feet scissored back and forth to keep her afloat, she felt yards of a soft substance, like fronds from underwater plants, gently stroking her bare skin. She looked down and was surprised to see herself fully clothed. Surprised because she had expected to be nude; had always wanted to swim in the nude; and, after all, this was her dream.
Wrapped around her, like intricate petals on a rose, was a long, white gossamer gown; her flesh was clearly visible under its many sheer layers. With each scissor motion, the panels twisted and clung, beginning to impede her movement.
Unafraid, she slipped beneath the surface.
Deep beneath the warm silky water, with a profound sense of awe, she observed her chest rising and falling, aware that she breathed as naturally as any sea creature. Lithe as a ballet dancer, she pirouetted again and again, her hair caressing her face, the layers of cloth caressing her body. She had never felt more alive, more free, more attuned to her surroundings.
As she twirled underwater, the gown enfolded her like the wings of a newly emerging butterfly. Too late she realized she was caught in a cocoon of her own making. With her arms pinned to her sides, her legs bound tightly in yards of fabric, she slowly sank to the bottom of the pool. She struggled. No longer could she breathe. Within seconds, she felt a crushing weight on her chest, her heart and lungs in agony, about to burst. She was losing consciousness; the pool lights dimmed further. She willed herself to wake up, to put an end to the suffocation; but instead of waking, she felt strong arms take hold of her. Slowly, gently she was lifted to the surface.
She filled oxygen-starved lungs with cool air.
Safe now, nestled in masculine arms, she instinctively clung to him. Her eyes remained closed. She felt cool tiles beneath her, felt the binding cloth being peeled away layer by layer. Intuitively she knew her rescuer. Knew because it was her dream and she had willed him into it.
She opened her eyes and saw Jay, his hair dark and shiny with water—the way it had been when she had awakened to find him watching her sleep earlier that evening. Once again, she stared into those cool blue eyes—eyes filled with longing, desire.
Cradled along the length of him, she felt his heated nakedness against hers. His hand cupped her breast. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers, light and feathery. She arched her back and pressed her mouth firmly to his.
The warm mouth that covered hers seemed to breathe life back into her, more than life—passion and fire—an awakening. Every kiss, every caress, every touch of pleasure, she committed to memory. When she felt herself waking, she resisted with all her might. No, please. This is all I’m going to get. What’s the harm?
Yet even as her eyes fluttered opened, the last of the dream fading, she knew the harm. She knew quite well the harm that a mere dream could have. Particularly a dream of this nature. She was attracted to Jay. And if that were all, she could probably handle it. But she sensed the attraction was not one-sided and Jay was married to a friend of hers. There was no way on earth to make it right. No way.
For the second time that night, she awoke in a strange room filled with a certain man’s presence. Only this time she was alone. Or was she? Like his aftershave, the essence of Jay King filled the air, penetrating her to the core.
Kasey rose at five. The suite was dark, quiet. For two hours she had lain awake acutely aware that the main character in her erotic dream slept only feet away, on the other side of a thin hotel wall. Coming face to face with Jay this morning would be more than she could stand.
Anxious to be gone before he awoke, she dressed quickly and quietly slipped out.
On the drive home she thought about Jay, the job, and what she was going to do about both of them.
This can’t go on, she told herself. She was spending far too much time in his company. She counted the days they had worked together. Five. Five? Impossible. How could she feel this wretched in such a short time? Maybe it wasn’t so short, she told herself. Hadn’t she felt something the day of the wedding—the moment she’d walked into his study and had seen him standing there in his tuxedo, greeting her with a warm smile. But if she wanted to be truly honest with herself, she had to go back even farther than that, back to when she worked at the club, when Jay and Dianne were involved in their steamy, illicit affair. Back when the shock and pain of Kevin’s recent death drowned out all else—or so she had thought.
What did it matter how long she had been attracted to him? That was then and this was now. She had a job to do. If she intended to do the job well, she couldn’t continue to work with him, not alone like before. She would suggest they split up, each take a separate role in the investigation. Perhaps Brad should be brought in to act as a buffer.
Give up the job, a voice in the back of her head whispered. No, another voice countered, it can be worked out.
She shut out both voices and turned her attention to the road. Traffic at that time of the morning was light, especially heading south. In an hour, weekday commuters from the smaller towns of Minden, Gardnerville, Carson City, and the valleys in-between would have the northbound highway clogged.
She repeatedly checked in the rearview mirror. This time when she turned north off the highway onto Forrest Lane, no car turned behind her.
As she neared the ranch house, its green roof and dormer windows visible through the row of sycamores, it occurred to her for the first time that her mother might be worried about her. Out of respect and common courtesy—because parents of grown children worry, too—Kasey usually called her mother if she planned to be away all night. With everything else on her mind, she had forgotten.
As she pulled under the carport, she saw her mother standing at the kitchen window. The stern, anxious expression on her face suddenly grew slack with relief. When Kasey waved, Marianne turned away from the window without responding.
Kasey would patch things up with her later.
She went into her bungalow, checked her answering machine, showered, dressed, then crossed the yard to the main house.
Her mother was sitting at the table with Danny. Both were busy with paper. Danny’s fingers worked bright sheets of construction paper into geometric shapes. Marianne was cutting out a stack of proof of purchase seals. Her mother was one of those consumers who actually mailed away for rebates, free samples, and coupon merchandise from the various manufacturers. Nothing was thrown away until Marianne had inspected it. If a member of the household threw so much as a candy wrapper in the trash with the seal intact, there was hell to pay. Every day the postman delivered something from one nationally advertised retailer or another and the mailbox was crammed with catalogs and leaflets—more paper for Danny.
“Morning, Ma. Morning, Danny.” She patted Danny’s shoulder and bent to greet her mother with a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Snickers?”
“They didn’t have phones where you were last night?”
Straight from the hip. No pussyfootin’ around.
Kasey straightened slowly, but before she could respond, Marianne took her hand, shook it, and said, “Oh, honey, don’t pay any attention to me. It just popped out. You don’t have to check in with me, for heaven’s sake. You’re a grown woman. It’s just that, well, sometimes your job can be dangerous and—”
“It was late, Ma, I didn’t want to wake you.”
Marianne looked away, nodded, and smiled.
“No, Ma, you’re right, I should have called. I’m sorry. I know you listen for my car. Even when you’re asleep you still listen for it.” She squeezed the rough, callused hand. “I worked late at the hotel. I fell asleep.”
“But Sherry said…”
“What did I say?” Sherry asked, strolling into the kitchen. She looked spry, full of spunk for someone who kept late hours and loved champagne. It was doubtful she had been to bed yet. “Kasey, where’d you go last night? I thought you were heading ho
me when we split? I was worried when your car wasn’t here this morning.”
“I changed my mind. There was something—”
“Ahhh, there’s our little wanderer. Home safe and sound,” George said, entering with a box of photographs. “I told your mother you could take care of yourself. She was worried sick about you. When Sherry said you were headed home around midnight—”
“Was everybody up waiting for me last night?” Kasey asked with mock sarcasm. “Where’s Artie? Out scouring back alleys, checking hospitals? Danny? Were you up? Would you like to know where I was all night?”
“It keeps going and going,” Danny said under his breath.
“And so does this conversation. How ‘bout next time I get written permission?” Kasey said, picking fried potatoes out of a pan on the stove and popping them into her mouth. “I must lead a helluva dull life if everyone gets excited about my staying out once in a millennium.”
“Kasey worked late at the hotel and she fell asleep. It could happen to anyone. Now, is everyone satisfied? Go about your business, leave the poor girl alone,” Marianne said gruffly and lightly slapped Kasey’s hand when she reached for more potatoes.
Each boarder went about his or her business, saying nothing more.
George began collecting all the photographs in the kitchen and laundry room, putting the green tabbed ones in a separate stack. “Has everyone had a chance to pick a favorite from this batch?”
“This batch? There’s more?” Marianne asked.
“Oh, sure.”
“How many more?”
“Hundreds and hundreds.”
*
On the TV monitor in the boardroom, they stared at the black-and-white video. The camera panned from one set of closed elevator doors to another, four in all. As it returned to the first elevator, they saw the doors were wide open, yet the interior was empty. The doors slowly closed, and the camera continued to pan.
“He timed that one just right,” Jay said to the four other people in the room. Brad, Kasey, Dianne, and Barney LeBarre, the head of security. Jay fast-forwarded the tape. The elevator doors, one after another, flashed by in fast succession, looking like a revolving scene in an old Hitchcock movie.
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