“And that was on Monday?”
“Right. About midmorning.”
“Maybe the person who planted the bug was someone who knew that your boss was leaving. Maybe they were trying to keep tabs on him and thought he might be calling you at home.”
She shook her head. “Ron has never called me at home. He has my cell phone number, but he’s only called me on it once or twice.”
He pulled a notebook from his coat pocket. “So we’ll need to check your phone at work, too.” He smiled. “And it might be a good idea to give me your cell phone number.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “What, police officers don’t have access to that information?”
He winked. “Since I might use it for personal business, I thought I should ask.”
Tallie was suddenly struck by a bolt of full-body awareness of his good looks and solid body. A man offering refuge from the scary unknown was a powerful aphrodisiac. Sexual energy leaped between them, and Tallie knew instantly that they would be compatible in bed. Desire moved deep in her midsection, but she realized that wanting to sleep with Keith probably had much to do with her desire to escape from the bizarre situation in which she found herself, to feel safe.
His mouth opened slightly, and she knew that similar thoughts were going through his head. He had the instinctive urge to protect…and comfort. He averted his glance, and his chest expanded with an inhale. When he looked back, he was all business again. “Do you have someone you can stay with until we can figure out what’s going on?”
“Do you think that’s necessary?” she asked, her body still humming with attraction for the man.
“Tallie, you could’ve been killed…twice. And someone invaded your apartment to plant a bug. This is serious.”
Renewed fear shot through her. “You’re right. I’ll call my friend Felicia.”
“I’ll stay and give you a ride.”
She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and punched in Felicia’s number, dreading heaping more trouble on her friend when she was already strung so tight. After a couple of rings, a woman’s voice came on the line.
“Hello?”
Tallie frowned. “Felicia?”
“No, this is Julia, Felicia’s mother. Who’s this?”
“Oh, hi, Ms. Redmon. This is Tallie.”
“Hi, Tallie. Felicia’s in bed with a terrible migraine—can I take a message?”
Her friend was definitely too ill for company. “Um, no, there’s no message. I hope she feels better.”
“I suspect she will…after the memorial service tomorrow.”
A slight frown crossed Tallie’s forehead. Did Ms. Redmon know something? Had Felicia broken down and confided in her attorney mother? Was Julia Redmon at this moment negotiating a deal for her daughter? Then Tallie pinched the bridge of her nose. Would she continue to be suspicious of everything her friend did? “Er…yes. Goodnight, Ms. Redmon.” Tallie disconnected the call, plagued with new doubts, then turned a wry smile toward Keith. “Well, there’s always a hotel.”
“Or you can stay at my place,” he said smoothly.
Tallie wet her lips. “Not to sound ungrateful, but that’s just so…far.”
He laughed. “No, it isn’t.”
“I should stay in Manhattan,” she said. “I need to be at work early so I can leave to attend the memorial service.”
“Okay.” Then he spread his arms. “So, how about I sleep on the couch?”
She blinked. “Um…well—”
“Your mother and my mother would never forgive me if something happened to you.” He grinned. “So in truth, you’d be doing me a big favor.”
That sexy hum started up again, pushing a slow smile across her mouth. “A big favor, huh?”
“Yeah, and don’t worry—I’ll behave myself.”
It was the ideal solution, she reasoned. And he didn’t seem to mind…. “It’s very nice of you to offer. And I accept.”
“Good.”
“But my couch is kind of lumpy.”
He grinned again and took off his coat. “Is there any other kind?”
The sight of him removing clothes made her warm in various womanly places. “When is bedtime?” she blurted.
His dark eyebrows arched. “Bedtime?”
The warmth spread. “I mean…what time do you normally go to bed?”
He grinned. “That depends.”
Her nipples hardened. “I…I…”
“On my work schedule,” he clarified, then his eyes danced. “And other considerations. How about you?”
“Um, well…same,” she said idiotically, then cast around desperately for a new subject. “Have you eaten?”
When the words left her mouth, they hung in the air in unfortunate juxtaposition to the previous topic. He wiped his hand over his mouth to smother a grin.
“Dinner?” she squeaked.
“Um, no,” he said pointedly. “I haven’t eaten…dinner.”
To cover her gaffe, she plowed ahead. “What are you in the mood for?”
Unfortunately, it only pushed the tension in the room even higher. Tallie crossed her arms, hopelessly tongue-tied and fearful, frankly, to say something else lest she have an orgasm on the spot.
Keith stepped in front of her, his face angled down, a smile playing on his mouth. “How about I kiss you so we can get past this awkwardness?”
Chapter 26
Keith was over a head taller than her, his body half again as wide. His eyes were dark and playful, his jaw tinged with tomorrow’s beard. He was so male and so damned sexy, she…what was the question? Oh, yeah—a kiss.
She swallowed hard. “I think that would be…constructive.”
He slipped his hand behind her neck and lowered his mouth toward hers. Tallie arched upward to meet him, and their mouths jarred together in a kiss that went from strong to intense in a matter of seconds. He moaned into her mouth, sending sensual vibration through her tongue. Her nipples peaked, driving her to press her body against his. She slid her hands around his waist, skimming a hard bulge that she realized with a start was his gun. He pushed his fingers into her hair and smoothed his other hand down her back. She inhaled his skin scent into her lungs and felt her control begin to slip. Panicked, Tallie pulled away from the kiss and stepped back, her breath coming fast and hard. She put her fingers to her puffy lips and gauged Keith for his reaction.
His eyes were slightly hooded, his chest rising and falling, his erection a definitive bulge. He cleared his throat. “Yes, that was…constructive.”
“Right,” she said, gasping. “I don’t feel awkward at all.” A big stinky lie—she knew they’d just opened Pandora’s box.
“Me neither,” he said, his tone strained.
“Shall we order in?”
“Sure.”
“Chinese?”
“Perfect.”
“Spicy?”
“Absolutely.”
She put some distance between them and picked up the phone. Staring at the receiver, she laughed wryly. “Well, whoever tapped my phone knows that I don’t cook.” She hit the speed-dial button for her favorite Chinese delivery place and ordered three times as much food as normal. By the time she hung up, at least her hormones were back under control. “Beer?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said.
She withdrew two bottles of Michelob Light from the refrigerator and rummaged in a drawer for an opener. After popping the caps, she handed him a bottle, noticing that he, too, seemed to have recovered physically.
“Thanks,” he said, then turned up the bottle for a drink. They reclaimed the seats at the table, Keith stretching his long legs out in front of him.
The man took up a lot of room. She eyed the couch, realizing that some part of him was going to be hanging over when he stretched out. She took a drink, her mind sorting through the poor appendages that might be neglected.
“So other than your fast-food orders,” he said casually, “what other kinds of conversations did th
e phone tapper hear this week?”
Tallie squirmed and tried to make light. “Nothing too interesting…a couple of frustrating conversations with my mother. Why?”
He shrugged. “If we can’t link the tap to you, we might have to look at the people you’ve been talking to.”
She laughed. “Maybe my mother, Merrilyn, is secretly a crime lord.”
Keith laughed, a nice noise that she wanted to hear again. “I see a lot of strange things in this line of work. Sometimes the ones you least suspect commit the most serious crimes.”
A spasm hit her stomach, and she practiced a few openers in her mind. Keith, there’s something I want to tell you…. Keith, if you think this phone tap thing is weird, have I got a story for you…. Keith, remember when you said that trouble seemed to follow me around?
He pivoted his head and glanced at her computer monitor sitting on the end of the table against the wall. “Doing some research?” He picked up the top couple of pages she’d printed about Jerry Key’s murder and gave her a quizzical look.
Her heart thudded and she opened her mouth to draw in more air. She studied his face, trying to guess how he might respond to the perfectly unbelievable story that she and her two girlfriends had duped Jerry on the phone, had arrived and finished strapping him down, had taken a photo and sent it out over e-mail, then left and had a big belly laugh.
“Horrible way to go,” he said. “The worst thing is, no matter what the man achieved, people are always going to remember him as the poor shmuck in the photo.”
Because of us. Tallie took a drink from the cold bottle, suddenly wishing she was drinking something stronger. For whatever sins Jerry Key had committed, he didn’t deserve to be remembered like this.
“How’s the investigation going?” she asked.
He made a rueful noise. “There aren’t too many clues to go on. The hotel is old and traditional—no security cameras. There were at least three private parties going on, so the foot traffic was heavy and security more lax than usual.” He sighed. “Unless we get a break, it might go down as another unsolved case. In this city, there are more of those than you could imagine. Detective McKinley told me that they’ve been handed four murder cases since this one.”
God help her, a little bud of hope and relief bloomed in her chest—the murder, as tragic as it was, might simply fade into time. She closed her eyes, glad beyond relief that she hadn’t opened her big mouth.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching over to cover her hand with his.
His fingers were warm and comforting and sexy. It occurred to her again that Keith Wages would be very easy to fall for.
He squeezed her fingers lightly. “Have you ever known someone who was murdered?”
She shook her head.
“To see a person alive one day, and know they’re dead the next day…it can be disconcerting.”
A stone of guilt settled in her stomach—guilt for what she’d done to Jerry Key, and guilt for the reassurance that Keith was offering her, thinking he was talking to a woman who was simply upset over the death of a colleague. She was such a hypocrite.
Her doorbell rang, to her great relief.
“That was fast,” he said.
“The Chinese place is just around the corner,” she explained, then emitted a self-deprecating laugh. “And the deliveryman knows his way here.”
“I’ll get it,” he said, standing and reaching for his wallet.
“No—you’re my guest.”
“You can get it next time,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument, then he strode to the door.
He’d said the same thing in the coffeehouse…and she had to admit it was nice that a man offered to buy her a meal. She’d forgotten the name of the guy she’d dated last fall—he would live forever in her mind as “Dutch.”
Keith returned with two bags and set about pulling out steaming carton after steaming carton of great-smelling food. She retrieved plates and utensils. He opted for chopsticks, and she joined him. He asked about her family and she relayed stories about growing up in Circleville in a bubble of contentment. He had similar stories—his parents had grown up in Ohio but had moved to Michigan for the job market. Still, the Wages family had not forgotten their Midwestern roots. He spoke of his parents and two siblings with a warmth that she appreciated.
“What brought you to New York?” she asked.
“Nine-eleven,” he said. “I came as a volunteer to help with the cleanup.” He shrugged. “And I decided to stay.”
They talked about how the event had affected both of their lives, and somewhere between coconut chicken and pineapple fried rice, Tallie realized that she liked this son of her mother’s friend…a lot. In fact, it was rather frightening how good Keith Wages looked sitting across from her at the table, all relaxed and…right.
He helped her clean up the leftovers, and when she realized they had a couple of hours to kill before “bedtime,” she decided it would be best to keep her hands busy.
“I need to do some work,” she said, gesturing to the table. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all—can I steal a book to read?”
“Sure.”
She settled at the table and opened a file folder of miscellaneous paperwork—cover blurbs to review, marketing plans to examine—but her eyes strayed to him across the room. He frowned slightly as he touched the compromised joints of the dilapidated shelf, but he moved on to the books, finally selecting one and settling into her green chair. The color suited him, she thought, and wondered if he had a shirt that color. If not, he should.
“Is me being here a distraction?” he asked.
She blinked, realizing that she was staring across the room and had unconsciously dragged a red felt-tip marker across the page she had been reading. “Um…no.”
He smiled. “Good.” Then he went back to his book.
Tallie forced herself to concentrate on her work and was soon engrossed, looking up only occasionally at the swish of a turned page or an unconscious murmur that he made while he read. A couple of hours later, her back was stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. She stood up and yawned, getting his attention. “I think I’m ready to turn in,” she said. “I’ll get you some sheets and a pillow.”
“Okay,” he said, closing the book on his finger. He was a fast reader, since he was near the end of the book.
“You can take the book home with you if you don’t finish it tonight,” she said.
“I will, thanks. It’s good.”
She stood there nodding like an idiot, mesmerized by the sight of him folded into her chair, seemingly so at home. It unnerved her and thrilled her…which unnerved her. She pointed toward her bedroom. “I’ll get you some sheets and a pillow.”
He grinned. “So you said.”
“Right.” A flush spread over her cheeks. She turned and walked into her bedroom, where she took one pillow from her bed and bounced it against her forehead. She had to get a grip…she was only turned on to him because of the stressful situation…and the proximity…and the camaraderie. Tallie winced. These sensations bouncing around in her chest for a Brooklynite did not mesh with her plans to remain a swinging single in Manhattan.
She changed the pillowcase and pulled an extra set of sheets from a drawer, then removed a quilt from her bed—since her internal thermometer seemed to be running higher than normal, she could spare a layer tonight.
When she walked back into the living area, Keith was removing his gun from his belt. “Okay if I set it on the table?” he asked.
She nodded, staring at the holster. “Do you wear it all the time?”
“Yeah, it’s part of the job,” he said with a little smile. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Not as long as it isn’t pointed at me.”
He laughed and reached for the covers.
“I’ll help you make up the couch,” she said. “It might be a little…short for you.”
“I promise I’
ve slept on worse,” he said.
They worked in tandem, tucking the sheet under the pillows.
“So, um, Keith…”
“Yeah?”
“Is your girlfriend going to be sore that you’re bunking on my couch?”
He glanced up. “She might be.”
Discovering that he had a girlfriend shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was…and it bothered her…some.
“If I had a girlfriend,” he added with a grin. “Which I don’t.”
Exasperated, her mouth quirked to the side. “Goodnight.”
He winked. “Goodnight.”
“I’m getting up early,” she called over her shoulder.
“Whatever time it is, I’ll already be up,” he said.
“If you take a shower, leave me some hot water.”
“No worry…I’ll probably take a cold shower.”
Tallie stopped, feeling his gaze on her back. The man was tempting. She gritted her teeth and counted to three, then said, “Goodnight,” walked into her bedroom, and closed the door.
A lot of good the door did. The man’s pheromones oozed through the keyhole and the crack underneath the paneled wood. Tallie pulled the sheet over her head and tried to quiet the parts of her body that strained toward him, but she couldn’t dispel the feeling that she was letting something slip away….
Water. She needed a glass of water. Then she’d be able to sleep.
She opened the door as noiselessly as possible and walked out. She glanced toward the couch, and from the moonlight streaming through her clean windows, she could make out his sprawled form on the couch. Then he moved—first pushing up onto his elbow, then swinging his legs over to sit up. “Tallie?”
His broad shoulders were outlined, and his head was tipped slightly in question. He stood and she walked closer, irresistibly drawn to him. He wore pale-colored boxer shorts, his torso solid and spectacularly bare.
Whole Lotta Trouble Page 21