After hearing through the grapevine that Tori had been at City Hall today talking to the mayor, Grady even had renewed doubts about her.
He'd found himself checking his rear-view mirror for her Volkswagen Beetle on the drive here. He hadn't seen the car, which made him want to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her City Hall connection still nagged at him.
Darkness had already descended on Lake Worth, which was in central Palm Beach County about an hour south of Seahaven, but the lighted pier remained open until midnight.
An old-timer with grizzled whiskers sat on a stool with his finger on his line and his eyes half closed. Ten feet from him a boy of about ten leaned on the railing, intently watching his bobbin for signs of fish biting while his father watched him.
"Catch anything tonight?" Grady asked the boy.
The boy's eyes didn't leave the gently lapping water of the Atlantic. "Not yet," he said before excitedly adding, "but I think I got one now."
The boy reeled in the line under the guidance of his father. He pulled a clump of seaweed from the ocean and groaned loudly. Removing the slimy mess, he cast his line back into the water and returned to his vigil.
Grady performed one of his own, scanning the pier for any sign of Larry Schlichter. The Planning Director's beard combined with his bald head and long gray ponytail should make him easy to pick out of a crowd.
Grady didn’t spot anyone fitting that description and wondered if Schlichter had stood him up. The other man had sounded nervous on the phone when he refused Grady's invitation to meet in his office.
Grady had grumbled, finally agreeing to meet at the pier. It amazed him that people like Schlichter, who expected phone lines and offices to be bugged, hadn't figured out the government had ears everywhere.
At the moment, the tiny recording device inside Grady's cell phone contained those ears. His FBI-issued pager was a microphone.
"Pssst. Palmer."
The summons came from a clean-shaven man in a dark-colored fishing hat who occupied a lonely section of the pier. He sat on a stool holding a pole with a hopelessly tangled line. He looked up at Grady from under the hat, revealing bushy gray eyebrows.
"Schlichter? Is that you? Where's the beard?"
"Shhhhh." Panic filled Larry Schlichter's face. His eyes swiveled from side to side. "Somebody might hear."
"I can barely hear you myself, Lar, with this wind blowing.” Grady rested one elbow on the railing in feigned nonchalance.
In actuality, he was kicking himself for not pushing harder to meet at another location. Even though his equipment was top of the line, it might not pick up their conversation if the wind didn't die down.
"So what did you want to see me about?" Grady asked.
Schlichter sniffled, took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his nose with an unsteady hand. "I'm sure you can guess.”
"I'd rather you tell me."
Schlichter swallowed, and the Adam's apple in his throat bobbed. "How can I be sure you're not wearing a wire?"
It wasn't the first time a corrupt city official had broached the subject. Grady opened his arms wide and felt the wind cut through the cotton of his long-sleeved shirt. "If you want to frisk me, be my guest."
Schlichter shook his head. "I don't want to frisk you. And, for God's sake, put down your arms. You're drawing attention."
"Nobody's paying attention to us, Lar. Suppose you tell me why you think I'd be wearing a wire."
Schlichter wiped a hand over his brow. "I don't know. I've never done this sort of thing before."
This was like pulling teeth, but the FBI agent had cautioned Grady not to put words in the other man's mouth. "What sort of thing?"
Thankfully, the wind had taken a break from its impression of a tornado. Grady leaned closer to the other man so the listening device could pick up his words.
"I know Pete Aiken is making sure you submit the low bid for the community center." Schlichter lowered his voice even more.
“Do you now.” Grady crossed his arms over his chest. "You've been around long enough to know a low bid isn't always enough to secure the job."
Grady set his mouth in a mutinous line to mask his elation. He pictured himself as a fisherman and Larry Schlichter swimming around in the ocean, about to take his bait.
"I'm heading the committee that'll recommend to City Council who should get the job," Schlichter said.
"Where are you going with this?" Grady didn't have to fake anger. The thought of another corrupt official at City Hall made it genuine.
"If you want the contract," Schlichter said, "you need me on your side."
The Planning Director was smarter than your run-of-the-mill corrupt official. He'd passed on the offer to frisk Grady, but still didn't trust him. Thus far he hadn't said anything incriminating.
"How can I get you on my side?" Grady asked in a deceptively soft voice.
"The same way you got Pete on your side," Schlichter said and sniffed again.
"I already told Pete I didn't appreciate being hit up for more cash," Grady said through gritted teeth.
"Then you should have done your homework to find out who the real decision makers are at City Hall." Schlichter reached for his handkerchief once more and blew his nose again.
"So that's how it is," Grady said with disgust. "You need to feed your habit."
Schlichter's blue eyes flashed. "You don't know the first thing about me. I have a cold, not a habit."
"Then what's this all about?" Grady indicated the meeting at the remote pier with a sweep of his hand. "Why are you trying to bribe me?"
When Schlichter didn't answer, Grady wondered if he'd gone too far. Schlichter already seemed suspicious. If he answered the question, it would be tantamount to admitting he was on the wrong side of the righteous.
"I'm tired of it, okay? I'm not stupid. I figured out why your company keeps coming in with the low bid and confronted Pete. He wouldn't admit it but I could tell he was lying.
"Then I started looking around. City employees who aren't making any more money than me are driving around in Porsches, taking their boats out on the Intracoastal, eating out every night. And I thought, what about me?"
"So you decided to bribe somebody, starting with me?"
"Those are your words, not mine." Schlichter reverted back to cautious mode, but Grady thought he'd probably already said enough to damn himself.
"What if I don't pay?"
"You do whatever you think is best for your business," Schlichter said.
Grady reached into his back pocket and withdrew a wad of bills, which he handed to Schlichter.
The other man grabbed the money. "For God's sake, can't you be circumspect?"
Schlichter bent over, shielding the money with his body, while he surreptitiously counted it. He shook his head. "This isn't enough."
Grady reached into his opposite pocket where he kept the other half of the cash. Together, it added up to a tidy sum.
"This is more than I paid Pete.” He tapped the money against his palm. It was also all he was authorized to offer. "Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it.” Schlichter snatched up the money.
"Of course you will," Grady muttered under his breath.
"What?" Schlichter asked.
"Nothing," Grady said. He turned on his heel and left without another word, feeling unaccountably disappointed that Larry Schlichter had done exactly what he expected him to do.
Of course he had. A greedy heart beat beneath that nice-guy facade, reinforcing Grady's belief that nobody was what they seemed. Maybe not even Tori.
He lifted his head and spotted a woman at the end of the pier walking quickly away from him. He couldn't see her hair color because of her baseball hat. She was approximately the same height and weight as Tori.
Damnit.
"Tori!" he shouted. The woman didn't turn.
He broke into a run, his eyes trained on the woman's back, his footsteps pounding heavily on the wood. When he
reached the stairs, he spotted her weaving between parked cars in the dimly lit parking lot. He tramped down the steps, taking them two at a time.
"Hey, stop!" he yelled. The woman only moved faster.
He expected her to lead him to a silver Volkswagen Beetle. She stopped beside a blue PT Cruiser, giving him time to close the gap between them.
She frantically dug in her purse as he approached before swiveling in his direction with a small silver canister in her hand. Mace.
He closed his eyes, expecting the spray to hurt. A wet cloud of something fragrant blasted him. Shielding his eyes with one hand, he peeked through his fingers. The woman looked nothing like Tori. Easily fifteen years older, she didn't even belong to the same race.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he began.
The woman wouldn't listen. "Take one more step and I'll spray you again," she warned.
"That's perfume," he said, wiping the stuff from his face.
"Then I'll scream. I swear I will."
He backed away with his hands in front of his face to show he meant no harm. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I thought you were someone else."
Keeping the perfume canister pointed at him, the woman scrambled inside her PT Cruiser and locked the doors.
Grady stood there, in the center of the dark parking lot, and grinned hugely. As the woman gunned the car and drove away, he gave her a jaunty wave.
She probably thought him a criminal. He could live with that.
Because she hadn't been Tori.
***
FROM INSIDE EDDIE’S car in a dark corner of the parking lot, Tori watched the woman in the baseball hat take a can of mace from her purse and spray Grady.
She gasped and reached for the inner door handle. Eddie's hand clamped her wrist.
"Don't," Eddie warned. "Wait and see what happens."
"He needs help!"
"Wait," Eddie repeated.
Grady raised his hands in the air, no doubt to show the woman he was harmless, and backed away. He didn't act like a man who'd been maced.
"What do you make of that?" Eddie asked as the woman scrambled into the car. "Do you recognize her?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. She'd gotten a good enough look at the woman and felt sure she hadn't been one of the guests at the mayor's party.
"She wasn't the one Palmer met on the pier," supplied Eddie, who'd made it back to the car only seconds before Grady had chased the woman through the parking lot. "I couldn't get close enough to see much, but I'm sure it was a man."
The woman drove away with a screech of tires on pavement. Grady remained behind, standing in the middle of the parking lot, seemingly looking in their direction.
"Duck," Eddie ordered.
Tori ducked, bending low enough that nobody would be able to tell the car was occupied unless they got close.
They waited for long minutes. Tori hardly dared move, afraid even to breathe. At any second, she expected to hear the rap of Grady’s knuckles on the car window. The minutes stretched. Nothing happened.
She finally drew in a relieved lungful of breath and straightened. Grady — and his car — were gone.
"No!" she cried, frantically looking around. The now-empty lot stared her in the face. The truth was she'd failed. He'd cleared out while she was hiding, leaving her no way to find out where he was headed next.
"What are you so uptight about?" Eddie asked. "We weren't going to follow him anyway."
"We weren't? Why not?"
"It's more important to determine who he met. We'll wait here a while so you can get a look at the guy and see if you recognize him."
Eddie had positioned the car in such a way that they could see whoever entered or exited the pier. Because the entrance was illuminated, Tori had a clear sight line. Ten long minutes passed before a man in a fishing hat and a pole appeared.
"There’s the guy Palmer was talking to," Eddie said. "Recognize him?"
Relief filled Tori. She shook her head. "No. So let’s go.”
Eddie ignored her, his eyes still on the man. Before she could prompt Eddie to leave again, the man dropped what appeared to be his keys. He bent over and his hat fell off, revealing a bald head and long gray hair tied back in a ponytail.
She stiffened, because she'd talked to the man a few days before at Mayor Black's party. Even though he’d worn a beard then, she felt sure it was the same man.
"What is it?" Eddie prompted. "Who is he?"
She searched her mind for his name. "Larry something or other. He's the city's Planning Director."
"Didn't you say the Planning Director was a major player in deciding who got that community-center bid?" he asked.
"I said he had some input.” Tori deliberately omitted the Planning Director headed the committee that made the recommendation to City Council.
Eddie whistled long and low. Tori had relayed some of the details of the case on the way over, and he'd obviously drawn his own conclusions.
"This looks bad for your boy Palmer, Tor," he said.
"I'm sure there's a logical explanation," Tori said.
"Then you need to find out what it is.”
CHAPTER TW ENTY-FOUR
Lorelei was not in a good mood.
Here she was at City Hall, decked out in a new yellow dress that made her figure look amazing, and the man she'd spent the last few nights fantasizing about had yet to arrive for work.
In a shocker, it seemed the ultra-responsible Wade Morrison was late.
Had she known this in advance, she wouldn't have pleaded with Grady to let her drop off Palmer Construction's bid for the community center contract and got her feelings hurt.
Although he'd finally relented, clearly her own brother doubted she was responsible enough to deliver a simple packet.
She'd nearly reached the exit when she realized she hadn't yet delivered the bid. She backtracked to the city clerk's office and found a frizzy-haired young woman at the desk.
"This is the bid from Palmer Construction," Lorelei told her. "You'll notice I'm submitting it a full two hours before the deadline."
The woman’s smile turned into a puzzled frown. "I did notice that.”
"Make a note of it," Lorelei said and went back the way she'd come.
Take that, Grady. And Wade, too, for that matter. He'd doubted she could help put his girls to sleep for the night. As though that took a rocket scientist, which she could become if she wanted.
She had the strength of will to get anything she desired. That's why she'd come to City Hall this morning in the first place.
She'd left Wade alone for more than twenty-four hours, which should be plenty of time for him to build up a craving for her. She certainly had one for him.
Damn the man for being late. She'd managed to get to work before ten. Why hadn't he?
She rounded the corner, her eyes downcast as she indulged in atypical brooding. The thud-thud-thud of rapid footsteps caused her to lift her chin.
Wade Morrison almost plowed straight into her. He put out an arm to steady her. Just like that, her bad mood evaporated.
Yeah, her shoulder was the only body part that he touched. But that was a start.
"Lorelei," he said in obvious surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Cute didn't begin to describe how he looked. True, his navy pants and unimaginative powder-blue shirt were pretty awful. And, yes, his shirt tail wasn't all the way tucked in. Not to mention his boring navy tie was askew and his hair had that just-out-of-bed quality. But she'd developed a thing for the rumpled look.
"I dropped off a bid, because I wanted an excuse to run into you.” She smoothed her palms over his surprisingly wide shoulders. "Since we kissed, you're all I think about."
He blinked rapidly a few times, then quickly looked around. "Stop that, Lorelei. Anybody could walk by and see us."
He sounded flustered, which was so cute Lorelei could hardly stand it. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he had a faint smear of something blue on his chi
n. She wet her thumb and rubbed it off.
"You're right," she told him, drawing back and snagging his hand. "We need someplace more private."
She spied a closed door. Pushing it open with one hand, she tugged on Wade's hand with the other. Within seconds, they were alone.
Wade cleared his throat. "This is the ladies' room."
"I know that, silly. Is there a better place to do something you don't want anyone else to see?"
She came flush against him, stood on tiptoes and tilted back her head only to get a view of his chin. Having none of that, she reached up to loop her arms around his neck and pull his head down.
She sensed resistance in every muscle. She kissed his lips anyway, only to find them tightly closed.
Ah, a challenge.
She was up to it, wrapping her arms around his neck so that the softness of her body plastered against the hardness of his. She pressed open-mouthed kisses the length of his full mouth, thinking his lips were almost sinfully soft.
Long seconds passed before he groaned in the back of his throat and opened his mouth to permit her tongue entrance. One hand held her head and the other cupped her bottom as he drew her closer and took over the kiss.
Bliss. That's what he tasted like underneath the minty tang of his toothpaste. She figured she better get used to the taste. He was so anal he'd probably slip out of bed to brush his teeth before morning sex.
She wouldn't mind as long as she was the woman in his bed. She'd have sex with him any time, anywhere, under any circumstances. She rubbed her pelvis against his erection, wishing they were both naked.
One of his hands found her breast and liquid heat spread low in her stomach. "Let's do it," she said against his mouth. "Right now. Right here."
He raised his head, tearing his mouth away from hers so it was out of reach. Lines of strain bracketed his mouth. Beneath his fogged glasses, she thought his eyes were closed.
"I can't."
Sensuously she rubbed her body against him. "Why not?"
"Because. . ." His voice cracked and he started again. "Because I have a reputation to uphold. Because anybody could walk in on us."
"Nobody's going to walk in on us," Lorelei declared an instant before the door swung open.
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