Alex chuckled. “You can’t blame a lady for trying, Officer Townsend.”
When Dylan let himself into the condo a little while later, he heard laughter coming from the kitchen.
“Damn, she got to him,” he muttered, wasting no time in heading for the kitchen. When he reached the room he found Alex and the officer seated at the table and the bakery box formerly filled with a dozen assorted doughnuts now almost empty. Alex was scribbling away on a legal pad while the officer looked at it from across the table.
She looked up momentarily, then returned to her writing. The officer nodded a greeting.
Dylan glanced in the box. “You couldn’t leave a lemon-filled one?”
“I think there’s still some coffee left.” Alex continued writing. She glanced up and watched him pour coffee. “Officer Townsend was very helpful.”
Dylan froze, then almost overfilled his cup. He swore under his breath and returned the pot to the warming plate. “Really?” He glared at the officer.
“No, sir,” the man hastily assured his superior. “Not what you think.”
Alex held up the paper. “I wanted a list of speed traps, but since he didn’t feel it was right to tell me, I’m being the better person and giving him a little free legal advice instead. The man has three children. He needs some serious estate planning. While it isn’t my expertise, I can offer a few suggestions.”
Dylan stared at the officer, who squirmed under his regard. The man stood up and picked up his mug, then took it to the sink and rinsed it out.
“Thanks, Townsend,” Dylan told the man, while ignoring Alex.
The officer smiled. “Anytime, sir.” He turned to Alex. She smiled and handed him the paper. “Ms. Spencer, it was very nice to meet you.”
Alex waited until she heard the front door open and close.
“I can’t believe what I just saw. I was certain you’d have him saluting you. This isn’t the army, Dylan,” she chided him. “Why were you called into the station? Was it something to do with my case?”
“In a way.” He chose the chair next to her and pulled the bakery box closer, choosing a maple bar. “It seems the owner of a brand-new Lexus walked out of a restaurant last night and discovered someone had stolen one of his vanity license plates and replaced it with a plate that turned out to belong to a ten-year-old Buick.”
Alex’s eyes lit up. “Why do I believe this is leading up to something?”
“Maybe because it is. The Buick has a license plate belonging to an old Chevy Nova belonging to a college student, and the plate on the Nova belonged to…” He waved his hand in a “ta-da!” motion.
“Our Camry!” she shouted.
“Got it in one.” He grinned. “And now it looks like the Camry is carrying a license plate reading HOTBABE, although I’m sure they dumped it by now and just swapped the plates to get them safely out of the area.”
“I would think a car with that vanity plate wouldn’t be too difficult to find.” She set the pad to one side. “Anything else? Maybe the identity of the driver and his cohort?”
He shook his head. “The first swapped plate was in the San Francisco area a few days ago. They wasted no time.”
“So there’s no way to trace them?” Alex asked.
“I doubt we’ll find usable prints, but Forensics down there is going to try. Considering how far back we’ve traced it so far I’d say they made a hobby of it.” He bit into his doughnut. “Plus, the Camry was stolen to begin with.”
“So what you’re really saying is that the hunt for them won’t be easy,” she guessed.
“Pretty much.” Dylan started to pick up the last doughnut, and glanced at Alex, who waved her hand to indicate she didn’t want it. “Swapping license plates is a nightmare for cops as we try to track them down. But you’d think they wouldn’t choose a vanity plate. They’re easier to notice.”
“Unless they don’t care and intend to get rid of the car, anyway.” Alex stood up and walked over to the coffeepot.
Dylan tipped his head to one side and studied her. “You okay after last night?”
Alex thought about it for a moment. She didn’t want to brush off his question with an “of course I am!” when she knew she wasn’t. “When I first woke up I felt this tension,” she said slowly. “I think it was partly due to seeing you gone. I think even then I sensed you weren’t here. Officer Townsend was very nice and managed to help me keep my mind off what happened last night. But I’m glad you’re here.” Her gaze echoed the smile on her lips.
“Just as I’m sure you kept Townsend’s mind off a lot when he got a good look at you first thing.” He grinned. She looked down at her robe, which was buttoned up to her chin, then looked up at him. “You weren’t wearing that robe when you first came out here, were you?”
“I almost screamed. He almost gawked,” she admitted.
“So you put on the robe to make it easy on him.” His grin grew wider at her nod. He shook his head as if he’d just remembered something. “That will teach me to get sidetracked. I picked up some groceries on my way back. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll bring in the food. I know you had some doughnuts, but you may as well have something halfway healthy, too.”
“Won’t Tank miss us?” she asked.
“He’ll survive.” He stood up. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
After a quick shower, Alex looked through her dresser drawers and settled on a pair of olive yoga pants and a matching tank top, then pulled her hair up into a ponytail. When she returned to the kitchen she found Dylan standing at the stove. At the sound of her entrance, he looked over his shoulder, appeared a little surprised, then turned back to his cooking.
“My culinary skills still don’t go beyond scrambled eggs and toaster waffles or French toast,” he announced. “But I threw some bacon bits and onions in the eggs and found some honey-wheat bread.”
“I’ll set the table,” she offered, touched he’d remembered her favorite bread after their long separation.
“How about we eat out on the balcony? The table you’ve got out there is big enough for the plates and it’s a lot nicer than eating in here.”
“This is nice,” Alex agreed five minutes later. Mimicking Dylan, she settled her plate on the table and propped her feet up on the railing. As she nibbled on her food, she looked out over the open space that encompassed the complex’s amenities. She frowned as she noticed a fleeting flash coming from the tennis courts. She stared in that direction for a few minutes, but when she didn’t see another flash she decided it was merely her imagination.
“I called in a few favors and was able to get your briefcase and suitcase moved up for processing, and I was able to pick them up for you,” Dylan said, diverting her attention from the area below. “I brought them in when I brought in the groceries.”
Alex dropped her feet to the ground. “That’s wonderful! I need to go through them. Maybe there’s something there I’ll understand that your crime-scene people didn’t.” She started to rise to her feet, but Dylan used one hand to push her back down. “They’re not going anywhere this time around. Finish your breakfast first. Then I’ll help you go through them.”
Alex practically bounced with impatience as she finished her food and carried her plate into the kitchen. She went into the living room and found her suitcase standing by the couch and her briefcase in a nearby chair. She wrinkled her nose as she grew closer to them.
“They were buried in a Dumpster,” Dylan said, coming in behind her. He walked around her and laid the suitcase down for her.
“And they’ll be returning to one.” She sat cross-legged on the floor and unzipped the suitcase, flipping back the top. She moaned in dismay at the pile of clothing that tumbled before her. “As will the contents.” Clarence walked over to the suitcase, took one sniff and ran off. “Even Clarence agrees with my plan. Were they able to find anything?”
“The handles looked like they had been wiped down, but a couple of smudged print
s were found on the hinges on your suitcase. So far no hits, but something could still come up. They’re also trying the military database.”
“I’m learning more about forensics than I ever wanted to know,” she muttered.
Dylan sat down next to her. He picked up a creamy lace bra. Alex reached over and snatched it out of his hand.
She pulled out each piece of clothing, checked pockets and set each item aside. She then searched her cosmetic bag and all zippered pockets in the suitcase.
She sighed. “Those perverts pawed through my clothing. I don’t remember purchasing any of this, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t feel…icky.”
“Icky?” Dylan chuckled. “And here I thought you’d use one of your favorite hundred-dollar words.”
Alex froze as a stabbing pain zigzagged through her head.
“Are you okay?” Dylan asked, reaching over to cover her hand with his.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I guess I have to expect this for a while.”
Dylan picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Better?” He raised an eyebrow.
She couldn’t help but smile. “It definitely helps.”
“Better than icky?” he teased.
“Along with what happened making me feel violated and appalled. That’s the best you’ll hear.” She stuck her hands inside each shoe. “Nothing was found?”
“Nothing that looked out of place.” Guessing her frame of mind, Dylan went into the kitchen and came back with a plastic trash bag. He held it open while Alex placed all the contents of her suitcase into the bag.
“I can’t in good conscience give all this to charity,” she said. “They’ve been handled, and who knows what else has been done with them.” She sniffed a couple of times. She looked at her briefcase with a sense of trepidation.
“Any lacy underwear in there, too?” Dylan asked hopefully.
“Of course not! Probably what I always kept in there. My notebook computer, a couple of legal pads, pens, my PDA, my cell phone and lipstick.” She stared at the combination lock.
“Try the combination you’ve always used,” Dylan suggested. “We both know you’re not too original with codes.”
“I’ll ignore that,” she muttered as she lined up the numbers then heard the click of the lock being disengaged. Just as she predicted, the items she mentioned were inside. She grimaced at black fingerprint powder coating the top of her computer and PDA case. She turned on her computer and scrolled through files and did the same with her PDA.
“Try these.” Dylan handed her CDs he found in a side pocket.
“There’s nothing that stands out,” she said, reading the contents of the first CD. “Notes on a meeting with a client about an upcoming court case. Nothing that would warrant him hiring a couple of thugs to steal these notes back from me.” She ejected the CD and inserted the second one. “More of the same.” When Dylan reached for one of the legal pads, she slapped the offending fingers. “Privileged communication, remember? There’s nothing here, either. Now do you see why I couldn’t think any of my clients was behind this?”
“If that’s the case then all we can look for is a disgruntled ex-lover you can’t remember,” Dylan told her. “Janet would know about your past dates, wouldn’t she?”
“Probably.” She rubbed her forehead. She’d hoped her headaches would be gone by now and instead they still grabbed her by surprise. At least the dark purple bruising on her face was starting to lighten a little. She dreaded to think what she would look like when it turned green and yellow.
“Need a pill?” Dylan asked, noting her action.
“No, I need to have my life back again,” she muttered, standing up and picking up her computer. “I need to get something in the office.”
“I’ll take all this out to the trash for you.” He closed up the bag.
Alex nodded and went into her office. She sorted through her files until she found the one she wanted. She opened it and began reading. The hard lump in her stomach seemed to grow with each word she read. By the time she finished reading, her stomach was in so much upheaval she feared she would lose her breakfast.
“Why would I want to deliberately sabotage our marriage? There’s no rhyme or reason to this except for personal comments I’d penciled in about my desire to make partner,” she murmured, carefully lining the papers up in a neat pile and slipping them back into the file folder. She knew she should put it back into the file cabinet before she gave in to her first thought and ran the papers through her paper shredder. A tear slowly ran down her cheek.
“Hey, want to go outside for some fresh air?” Dylan appeared in the doorway. He glanced at her face, then looked down at the file on her desk. He easily guessed the contents. “You just had to know, didn’t you? You couldn’t leave it alone.” He sounded more weary than angry. “Does it make it easier for you, to finally know all the dry legal facts?”
“I was behind it all,” she whispered, feeling the ache grow in her throat until she thought she would choke. “I said counseling was not an option and according to the reports you didn’t fight any of this.” You didn’t love me enough to fight for me. She looked at his face as she shook her head. “It’s like reading about two perfect strangers,” she admitted softly.
Dylan exhaled a deep breath. “Maybe that’s what we are. We’ve both changed over the years, Alex. Maybe that’s what you really need to remember.”
Chapter 8
Dylan silently damned himself for honoring Alex’s privacy. What he should have done was endure her wrath and go through her private files first thing and dig out everything he found pertaining to their divorce. By putting the files out of her reach, he could have put off this time until she could handle it better. Now she’d found some thing she wasn’t ready to deal with.
Except he wasn’t angry with her. If their positions were reversed he would have been just as determined. He doubted he would handle it any better than Alex had, and he knew that even with all her frustration she’d handled her situation pretty well. If he’d answered her questions when she’d first asked him, he might have been able to put a better spin on their divorce, if there was such a thing. By the time it all reached court he and Alex had fought so much that it was amazing their home hadn’t been declared a war zone.
Alex came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of sandals and an olive hoodie over her tank top. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses as Dylan handed her a bottle of water he’d pulled out of the refrigerator, and he followed her out of the condo. He didn’t miss the pallor of her skin, which made her bruises look even darker, and her eyes were slightly red-rimmed.
Side by side they walked around the side of the building, heading for one of the walking and running paths.
“This is pretty nice,” he commented, noticing the wooden benches set up at intervals. “A man-made brook running through, trees planted at random to give it a woodsy feel.” He looked up. “It looks like they set up good lighting for security.” He looked over and noticed Alex paying a great deal of attention to the tennis courts. From what he could tell, no one was out there just now. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” she said hastily. “I’m just looking around.” She flipped up the bottle top and drank. “It is very pretty out here and very peaceful. I’m glad you suggested this. I needed to clear my head,” she murmured.
A comfortable silence stretched between them as they followed one of the trails. Alex noticed that the few people they passed smiled and said hello, but it was an impersonal greeting, not that of someone who might know her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dylan asked quietly.
She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved he’d finally brought it up or wary of discussing the touchy subject. She took another drink of water in an attempt to hold off answering him right away. But she knew she couldn’t remain silent forever, no matter how badly she wanted to. She looked down at her feet as they walked. It was easier than looking at Dylan. He hadn’t s
miled since he’d discovered what she’d done.
“Much of what I read sounded so vicious,” she said slowly. She stopped and walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. She waited until Dylan sat down beside her. “I want you to tell me the truth about something. I don’t want to wait until my memory returns.”
“What do you want to know?” Dylan had the look of a man who wanted to be anywhere but there. He knew he had lost the battle.
Alex took a deep breath, then plunged ahead before she lost her nerve. “Did you have an affair that I found out about? Was that the real reason why I divorced you?” She nearly reared back from his heated and instantaneous response to her question.
“What the…?” Dylan looked as if he’d been sucker punched. All color drained from his face, which turned his eyes the color of burned charcoal. As if he couldn’t bear to look at her, he turned away and stared unseeing off into the distance. The fury in his body literally rolled off him as he struggled to contain the temper that was threatening to erupt. “You know, of all things I thought you might ask me, that hadn’t even come to mind.” His quiet voice was frightening. His jaw worked furiously as he fought to keep his temper under control. “I know you don’t remember all the details back then, but after the past few days I can’t believe you would even think such a thing.”
Alex knew her memory was nonexistent where the end of their marriage was concerned, but instinctively she knew she had never seen Dylan lose his temper. She feared this was about to change. She rested her hand on his arm and found the muscles tight under her fingers, but he didn’t move away from her or shrug her off.
“You have to understand that I remember nothing of that time,” she appealed to him. “When I read the file, all I read about was anger. I thought the worst without truly thinking it through. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “We might have had our problems, but infidelity wasn’t one of them. It seemed our problems were put on hold any time we were in the bedroom. Maybe that’s why things turned so bad. We never took the time to talk anything out. We thought sex would settle things, but it never did.”
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