He stood up, hooking his jacket off the back of his chair with his thumb. "If the twelve mil turns out to be our motive, we need to get on the paper trail before the perp realizes he may have left a few tracks."
With a little luck, Gene thought, they wouldn't have to step over any more dead bodies along the way.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Abby obsessed over the words, the right ones, the wrong ones, the least hurtful, and the most convincing. And the more she obsessed the less confident she felt. The only thing she knew for sure was she didn't want to hurt Gage, and she was equally sure that was unavoidable.
Having reconciled herself that the only possible way to shift focus from Gage would be to disassociate herself from him, she turned her attention to the how of the matter. She knew he would want an explanation. And if she told him her reasons, he'd tell her not to worry about it, he'd take care of the press. Only this wasn't something he could pick up the phone and take care of.
Luke Lerner was not a man of principle.
Tell him to back off, and he pulled out a bigger tablet and started writing faster. She covered her untouched dinner and put it into the refrigerator. Her appetite had disappeared with her calm.
The doorbell rang as the refrigerator door clicked shut. Gage. All the words she'd been practicing danced out of her reach like dandelion puffs spirited away on a breeze.
She went to answer the door on stiff legs, feeling not unlike one of the zombies in the opening scene of Night of the Living Dead.
Swinging open the door, she pasted on a smile, and wondered if it looked as stiff as it felt. Since Norwell hadn't taken her off the Riv One account, she had to find a way to end their affair but convince Gage they could still work together as professionals.
Gage pulled her into his arms before the door shut behind them.
"I've been worried about you." He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, his breath warm and moist against her skin, and she shivered.
"I've been worried about you, too," she said truthfully.
He caught her chin, lifting it to stare down at her, his eyes the cloudy gray of an approaching storm. Bad omen that, she thought.
"I can take care of myself," he said, quintessential Gage.
"Ditto."
His lips twitched. "I know. You're all tough stuff. But humor me, I like to feel needed every once in a while." He opened his mouth over hers, and she tasted his hunger.
"Gage, no." She backed away from him, away from the temptation, away from everything she could no longer have if she wanted to see him safe from harm.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his brows snapping together.
The quicker she broke things off the easier it would be on both of them. Distance. She needed to put physical distance between them to clear her head. She backed further away, trying to locate her conviction.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He tracked her across the room. "I knew I shouldn't have let you leave my office this morning when you were so upset."
"No." Abby held up a hand to stop him. "I never should have come. I, I overreacted. The article in The Dish is my problem not yours. You've got enough—"
He took two long strides and caught her by the shoulders.
"Stop it," he ordered, giving her a little shake. "To hell with this need to do everything on your own. You don't have to."
"I do have to," she insisted, throwing the words back without thinking.
"Not this time you don't. My name's been sacrificed to the wolves, too. Like it or not we're in this together."
"That's just it. I don't want to be in it together." Oh, but she did. She wanted to roll into him, huddle against the world and everyone who wanted to turn what they'd tended into something ugly.
The muscle in his jaw twitched. "Do you want to explain that so I don't jump to any wrong conclusions?"
Abby closed her eyes. "We. . .I, I don't want to hurt you." She looked at him again, begging him with her eyes not to hate her for what she was about to do. "I never meant to hurt you."
He stared at her, his expression guarded. He put his right hand in his pocket and shifted his weight to his left foot.
"I'm afraid you've lost me. This is starting to sound like a conversation I don't want to have, and if it is, I'd like to know how the hell we got here?"
She hated the confusion she saw in his eyes. Hated knowing no matter what she wanted, it wouldn't go that way. "The press isn't going to let this die. They're going to bleed it dry, and we won't be able to pick up a paper that doesn't depict one of us in an unflattering light."
"Then we'll ride it out.
"No." She hugged her waist, but it did nothing to chase away the emptiness she felt inside. "I can't."
She had to convince him she was unwilling to expose herself to anymore speculation. That it was all about her. The only way he'd leave and agree not to see her again was if he believed she didn't love him.
"What can't you do?" Gage asked, following her with hooded eyes.
Abby lifted her chin. "I can't face another public scandal. Do you have any idea how bad this will get if we don't put a stop to it now?"
"And how do we do that, short of hiring a hit man?"
"Please don't joke about this."
Shaking his head, he blew out a frustrated breath and said, "I'm sorry. I rely on jokes sometimes when I'm upset."
"I knew I should never have gotten involved with you." She saw him flinch and knew she'd made a direct hit. "It's true," she said before she lost her nerve. "If I'd kept things professional the way I'd intended, none of this would have happened."
She looked away from the hurt in his eyes. "I never wanted an intimate relationship," she lied, her heart tearing in two. "If I'd stuck to my guns, I wouldn't be embroiled in another humiliating exposé right now."
"The press had a field day when Dick and I separated and his affairs came to light." She rushed to get everything she'd rehearsed out before he could stop her. "I felt like I was living under a microscope, every element of my life served up with the morning's bagel and coffee. It was horrible."
"I'm sure it was," he said tonelessly.
"I won't go through it again, Gage. I don't want to be the name on everyone's lips. I can't face it again. I can't. If I was just a murder suspect, I might be able to handle it, but I won't be able to stand being portrayed as an adulteress, and a whore as well."
"Where are you going with this?" he asked, his mouth tightening.
She'd been hoping he wouldn't make her say the actual words, but he wasn't going to let her off that easy.
Abby lifted her gaze to meet his. "I'm ending our affair," she said evenly and with as much conviction as she could manage considering her heart was breaking. "We never should have gotten involved in the first place. I'm sorry I let it happen. And I'm sorry I've caused so many problems for you because of it."
She was dying inside. He was just looking at her. She took in the rigid set of his jaw, his unblinking appraisal, and his unbending stance. She felt as if he'd already started to withdraw, and something inside her screamed out in revolt.
"I was hoping we could still be friends," she said weakly, grasping for a way to move them beyond this awful place she'd led them to. The few feet she'd put between them stretched a universe.
"D-don't you have anything to say?" she asked, feeling stupid and vulnerable. What had she expected? That he'd tell her it had been fun and leave. Even if he didn't love her the way she did him, no one liked getting dumped, and basically she was dumping him.
"Would it matter? I got the impression you were communicating a decision, not inviting a discussion." He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. She no longer felt she could read him, couldn't tell if he was hurt, angry, in denial, or what.
Abby looked away, more affected by the coolness of his tone than she wanted him to know. This was the hardest part, not breaking down and telling him she didn't mean any of it.
"Answer me something," he said, his eyes
roaming over her face. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me? Or were they just words that sounded good in the moment?"
I'll always love you. "I, I thought I meant it when I said it."
"And now?"
More than ever, she wanted to scream. She bit her lip. "I realize I made a mistake. I, well, I enjoyed our physical relationship. It was exciting and new, and I think I got confused by it. I like you, but I, I don't love you. I'm sorry."
He lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. "You're lying."
"No, I'm not." She averted her gaze, afraid he'd see the truth in her eyes. He was hurt. She could see it now, and it tore her apart. She couldn't capitulate though. If she did, there'd be no way to keep the scandal away from his door.
"You're lying, and you're making a mistake."
"I'm not. Please, Gage, please don't make this harder than it has to be. It's important we stay on good terms for the sake of Riv One."
He gave a short, derisive laugh.
"I, I hope we can continue working together." She hadn't wanted to believe he'd remove her from the account if she ended their affair. "We're both professionals. I wouldn't let what happened between us impact the project. You don't have to worry I'll—"
"Shut up, Abby," he said with deceptive softness. He pinned her with a stony gaze. "I know what's best for Riv One."
"Please don't hate me," she said, reacting to his chilling tone.
"I don't hate you." He turned away and walked to the couch where he'd tossed his suit jacket and plucked it off the cushion with a quick, angry jerk.
He was mad now, and leaving. She'd hurt him, probably his pride more than his heart, but no matter, hurt was hurt. She raised her hand in a helpless gesture then let it fall back to her side.
Instead of walking to the door as she expected, he came back to her, stopping only inches away. His broad shoulders filled her view. She could smell him, the clean spicy scent she'd come to recognize as his.
He touched the side of her face with his open hand, his little finger hooking the underside of her jaw.
Abby froze, wanting to turn her face into it and bury her lips against his palm. Lord, why did it have to hurt so much? His fingers were gentle as he tilted her face up to his, belying the expression on his precious face.
"We belong together. No matter what happens with the murder investigation or with the press, I believe the best way to face it is together. Ending our relationship is a mistake for both of us. That said, I'm not going to argue with you or try to force your will to suit mine. I love you, Abby, but I won't beg you to stay with me. You need to decide what you want. If it's me, if it's us, you'll have to let me know."
"I've already decided. I'm doing what's best for me," she said. "I'm sorry."
He dropped his hand. She didn't move as he turned and walked to the door. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something else, but there were no more words. The next thing she heard was the sound of the door closing behind him.
Abby shut her eyes. She loved him so much. So much she'd sent him away. She'd thought telling him would be the difficult part, but as she stood alone in the drowning silence, she knew the hardest thing she would ever have to do would be to live without him.
~~~
Gage didn't buy Abby's story. Not for a minute. Something had happened after she'd left his office that had her running scared.
She loved him. No matter what she said, Abby loved him. He was as sure of it as he was the night would follow the day and then it would be night again. If he wasn't so confident, he never would have been able to walk away from her.
His initial reaction had been anger because she was rejecting him. It had hurt. He'd been ready to fight, ready to lash out. Fortunately, he'd recognized his feelings for what they were before he'd said things he'd have regretted and hurt her, too. He never wanted to hurt her.
All she needed was a little time to realize whatever demons had reared their heads and sent her running from him could only be defeated head-on. He loved her, and she loved him, and if she would trust their love, no one could beat them down.
Gage unlocked his car and slid into the driver's seat. He couldn't force the truth on her, though. She had to see it on her own. He'd give her time, time to think, and feel, and miss who they were together.
He turned the ignition key. She'd come back to him. He was gambling his future happiness on it. But if he was wrong, leaving her tonight could be the biggest mistake of his life.
CHAPTER TWENTY
An anxious Detective Simms didn't hear back from Carlton Eldress, the developer who'd bought the property in Florida from Dick Carpenter, until eleven o'clock Monday morning.
"Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner," Eldress said. "The wife and I drove to the Keys for a few days, and I just picked up my messages. What can I do for you, Detective?"
"If I send you some pictures of Richard Carpenter, would you be able to verify if it was the same person you made the offer to in Florida?"
"Yeah, I think I'd recognize him. Why, do you think maybe the man I saw wasn't your dead guy?"
"Just procedure," Gene said, not wanting to influence Eldress in any way. "Want to cover all our bases. Can you receive images on your computer?"
After confirming the information he needed, Gene told Eldress he'd be uploading the photos as soon as they hung up and asked the man to call back when he got them.
The call came fifteen minutes later.
"I don't know what you're looking to verify, but the guy in these pictures isn't the one who was down here. This guy's darker, bigger. My guy was blond, kind of a Brad Pitt look about him. Make Pitt preppy, you know sort of country club, and that would be my guy."
Gene felt a rush of blood. "Are you positive?" he asked, his mind already racing through a catalogue of faces.
"Yep. Blond, blue eyes. So are these pictures Carpenter, or are you trying to see if my story's legit?"
"The man in the pictures is Carpenter, which raises the questions of who you spoke to in Florida and why he tried to pass himself off as someone else."
"Well, I can't help you there, but in case you're wondering, our proxy did everything aboveboard when we bought the property. I'm not sure what Carpenter and this other guy were trying to pull, but my company didn't have anything to do with it. We run a legitimate operation."
"I'm sure you do," Gene assured him, used to people getting defensive when questioned by the police. "You've been a big help. And if I could just ask you a couple of more questions, it might help me figure out who was impersonating our vic and if it had anything to do with his murder."
Gene spent the next several hours eliminating any of the people he'd questioned in the Carpenter case who weren't male, weren't blond, didn't have a preppy bone in their body, and couldn't pass for Brad Pitt without a face transplant. He wasn't eliminating suspects in the case, only known associates of Carpenter who in some way fit Eldress's description of the man he'd encountered in Florida.
There was a chance the man they wanted to talk to hadn't crossed their radar yet. For the moment, he could only work with what he had.
When he'd narrowed the list down to three, one name stood out. He sat back and linked his hands behind his neck. He'd check them all out, but his gut told him he'd found his imposter.
~~~
Harold Billings had scheduled four client visits for Tuesday, so it was midafternoon before he got to the office, checked his voicemail, and retrieved two new messages from Detective Simms requesting a return call. He had received another call from the detective late Monday afternoon as well that he hadn't returned yet.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath. What did the cops want with him now? He'd already talked to them twice. He glanced at the phone and sneered.
He looked up and saw Abby walk past his office. He got up and went to the door where he could overhear her talking to Madeline.
"Your friend Rachael called to say she'd be about fifteen minutes late gett
ing to the restaurant this evening," Madeline said.
"Okay, thanks. Did she want me to call her back?"
"Not necessary. She said just have a glass of wine until she gets there."
Abby murmured something too low for him to hear and turned. He watched her flip through her appointment book as she approached him on the way to her office, unaware he observed her. She didn't look like someone who'd murdered his best friend.
He'd expected her to crack by now. She wore that damned calm the same way she always did. Calm and aloof, like some fucking high queen. Harold narrowed his eyes.
Abby closed her book and glanced up. "Oh," she gasped softly, her eyes widened for an instant as if she'd been startled.
Harold smiled and glanced at her breasts. "Nice blouse."
She kept walking, her eyes spearing him as she passed by—green ice. She could make the temperature in a room drop ten degrees with one of those looks.
He closed the door. She'd warmed up for Faraday, though. He snorted. Yeah, she could turn into a hot little piece if it suited her purpose. And it had suited her purpose to steal the firm's biggest account out from under him by spreading her legs for the guy. She owed him for that. She'd pay. He'd make sure she paid. Once the police arrested her for Dick's murder she'd get exactly what she had coming to her.
Returning to his desk, he dropped into the chair and glanced at the piece of paper he'd written Simms's number on. Was it possible they'd discovered he'd been the one to bring the deal to Dick so he could cash in on the property that had belonged to Abby?
He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. So what if they had? All he'd done was pass the word to a friend that a developer was interested in the land. No crime there.
Picking up the phone, he started to dial the detective's number. Screw it, he thought, slamming the phone back down. He'd call in the morning. He needed to think through what he'd tell them if the cops did start asking about the Florida deal. Besides, he had a bigger problem to deal with, and this evening would be the perfect time to take care of it.
A Murderous Game Page 26