by Jeanne Adams
By the time Tibbett arrived, the crime scene tech had dug the bullet out of the trim around his closet door and left. Paul was sweeping up the glass, wondering if he had any plastic or a board in his shed to cover the gaping window.
“Hey,” Tibbet whistled from the doorway. “Nice room.”
“Ha, ha,” Paul faked a laugh. “Hand me that garbage can.”
Tibbet brought the can and held it as Paul tossed the last load of glass into it.
“So what was the bet?”
“I said the crazy would go for you again. Get you out of the way so your girl was left unprotected.”
He let the “your girl” part slide by him. He hoped he could make it true.
“Yeah, so Marsden thought he’d go for Torie again? We both have someone watching her, right?”
“Yep, sitting in the lobby as we speak.”
“Great,” he said, and meant it. “Mine, too.”
Another officer came down the hall and spoke to Tibbet. “No luck, Detective. No casing, no nothing.”
“Smart bastard,” Tibbet muttered. “Too smart. He’s getting predictable. Pushing the time limit. He hardly gave it a day between shooting twice at you. That’s what we call an escalating tendency to violence.”
“Focused on me.”
“Right now.”
“Nice. But better me than Torie.”
“Yeah, thought you’d see it that way. So,” Tibbet paused, eyeing him, “were you schtupping the bride before the wedding? Is that why Peterson called it off?”
Paul stared for a moment. “Hell, no,” he protested. “She didn’t like me at all.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Why was she so hell-bent on keeping you away?”
“Because she didn’t like me.”
“Didn’t. Past tense, right? So, you had this thing for her for a long time? Did your friend know?”
“What? No.”
“Look,” Tibbet said, putting his notebook away. “Let’s talk here, off the record, as you’re so fond of sayin’. What’s more important, your pride or her safety?”
“Her safety, of course.”
“Then spill it.”
“Torie and I have a history.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Tibbet snorted. “You’ve known her longer’n most people have known their wives. Just tell me what happened.”
“There was a fraternity party…” Paul started the story, and found he had to sit down to tell it. His knees were shaking. “We were all drinking, but Torie doesn’t drink that much. So suddenly she disappears.”
“You two were dating at that point?”
“Huh? Oh, no. I was interested in her, though. One of the senior brothers had invited her to the party, but he was off smoking a—” Paul grinned, realizing he was talking to a cop—“cigarette.”
“I’ll bet. So?”
“So I was watching to see if I could talk to her. I wanted to ask her out. But she was gone. When she didn’t come back in a few minutes, and her date was feeling no pain with a bunch of the guys on the deck, I went looking for her.”
“Altruistic of you,” Tibbet drawled.
“Not really, though she thinks it’s real white knight kind of stuff. I had a vested interest. So, I go upstairs, I ask around. Somebody tells me one of the brothers helped her upstairs, and that she wasn’t feeling too well.”
“I take it that didn’t sit right with you.”
“No. The frat was already on probation for violating policies about people sleeping over, and I knew she wasn’t with anyone.”
“Not a party girl?”
“No. Not that way. She enjoyed a party, but I’d never heard of her going for the wilder stuff. Anyway,” Paul said, remembering all too vividly how he’d found her, “I found her in an unused room, tied to the bed, naked and drugged. In the space of fifteen minutes, she’d gone from nursing one beer—to that. Whoever did it worked fast.”
“Not Todd then.”
“No, not his style. Besides, he was singing karaoke in the dining room with four of the other guys.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“No, neither of us were dating her at the time, so it didn’t occur to me to tell him. I got her untied and dressed, and took her to my room. Stuck my finger down her throat and got her to throw up whatever shit they gave her.” The memory of her quaking body, miserable and shaking, nearly made him sick. “She refused to go to the health center, and I was too dumb and scared to insist. She was sick for an hour. I got her a washcloth, helped her get cleaned up. Later, I sneaked her out of the house and got her back to her dorm. When I checked on her the next day, she said she was okay and only wanted to forget it.”
“Did she?”
“Yeah, I think she did, but she never came to another party. I asked her out.”
“Did she go?”
“Yeah, we had one date. It got hot and heavy, then I said something stupid, something about the birth-mark she has on her back, and broke the mood. She accused me of only asking her out because I thought she was some kind of kinky tramp. I denied it, and we went at it for a bit at the top of our lungs. We both calmed down and apologized, but it was our only date.”
Paul realized now, so late in the game, that he had pushed her away. He’d been so worried about her, but then to have her be so passionate, so sexy, so strong and stable, in spite of the near-rape at the party, had blown his mind. Scared the hell out of him.
“That was a bonehead move, man.”
“Tell me,” Paul said. “I’m still paying for it eleven years later.”
“Real bonehead. So when’d she hook up with Peterson?”
“Couple of months later at a dance. He asked me what I thought of her, and I told him I thought she was great. He beamed and agreed.” Paul could still see Todd’s happy grin. He had been delighted that elegant Torie Hagen had decided to go out with him. Paul had been stricken. If Todd, with his upper-class ways won Torie, he, Paul would never have a chance.
“You ever tell him you dated her?”
“Yeah, but I told him there wasn’t any chemistry.”
“So you lied,” Tibbet said blandly.
Paul looked him in the eye and with a straight face, answered. “Like a damn dog.”
“You have a list of the brothers who were at this party?”
“No. It was eleven years ago.”
Tibbet watched him, then cocked his head. “Seems to me, Mister Off the Record, that you track shit. You watch. Bide your time. Now, if you weren’t the one gettin’ shot at, I might be looking at you for this. You’ve got the patience for it.” His smile was feral when he turned it Paul’s way. When Paul didn’t react, he smiled more fully. “Whatever this is, whoever’s doing it, it’s about real deep anger, backed by a lot of patient planning. This shot tonight was panic. Stupid. He’s covered his tracks, but he got rash. He thought we’d follow Torie. Stick only to her.”
“Mistake.”
“Big one. But back to you. You store information away, keep lists. You kept lists of the incidents that happened to your buddy and client, Peterson, although your buddy blew them off as chance or coincidence.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“So, this is a woman you have had a thing for. For eleven years. I’m betting you kept a list of all the guys that were there that night. Who it might have been. Who it wasn’t. I need that list.”
For several minutes, the silence hung between them. They faced off like two stallions, circling one another, deciding whether or not to leap for each other’s throats.
Finally Paul dropped his gaze. “I’ll dig it out.”
Chapter Seventeen
“So, what’s on the docket for today?” Pam asked as they drove back toward the dealership.
“Buy the Chrysler, and talk to Kuhman again about the house.”
“You want me to come with you?”
Torie looked at her friend. “You’d play hooky again today?”
Pam smiled. “Yeah. I feel like I’ve neglected you
during all this. I got involved with Dev, who turned out to be the great disappearing jerk, and left my best friend in the world to dangle on her own when her house burned down.”
Torie scoffed. “You didn’t leave me to dangle, Pammie. I was okay until somebody started shooting at me.”
“Yeah, so okay that you retreated to North Carolina again?”
“Hey,” Torie protested. “I like North Carolina.”
“So do I, but you go there to hide. I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”
“Pam, don’t beat yourself up over this. Besides,” Torie added, “I wouldn’t have let you come. I needed the brooding time. I had a lot to think about.”
“Seems like you’ve been doing more thinking lately than you have in a while.”
“Since the wedding. You know what?”
“What?”
“I think I’ve been waiting, all this time, for him to come back.”
“What? That’s crazy, you have not. He did come back, remember, asked you a bunch of times to reconsider, get married.”
“I don’t mean literally.”
“Oh,” Pam rolled her eyes. “This is the deep soul-searching stuff.”
“Don’t knock it. It’s the only way I change. You know that.”
Pam smiled, despite her grousing. “I know, honey. So what did you learn on the beach?”
“That I was waiting. Waiting to do stuff. Waiting to move, to get out of what had been our house. Waiting to figure out if I still liked working for TruStructure.”
“What the hell were you waiting for?”
Torie shook her head, mildly disgusted at her realizations. “I don’t know. Now that I see that, I feel like I’ve wasted so much time. I didn’t want Todd to come back, but I sure didn’t move on with my life, did I?”
“Well, kind of. You dated a lot.”
“That turned out so well for everyone involved.” Torie shuddered as she said it. “But I wasn’t really looking, you know? I wasn’t dating people who could have been, well, you know, possible husbands or anything. I dated random people who happened to ask.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Pam said, a bit defensively.
“No, there isn’t as long as you know it, but I kept telling myself and you, too, that I was looking for Mister Right.”
“True. And all of them were Mister Wrong, not to mention Mister Wrong Side of the Tracks.”
“Yeah, him, too.” Torie laughed, remembering the one date she’d had with a bartender. “You know, I don’t think anything ever happened to him. I should tell Tibbet.”
“Make a note, but let’s do the fun stuff first.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
For the first time in years, maybe ever, Torie felt free. She was buying a car she liked, to haul around dogs she really wanted. She was going to forget practicality and rent a house that needed massive work while she was simultaneously trying to rebuild her own house. She was, in the deepest darkest places of her mind, considering opening her own business. Given the way TruStructure had treated her when the press was hounding her, she wasn’t sure she could go back. If she did, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay.
She hadn’t had the courage to tell Pam about the business thing yet. It was too new an idea.
Not to Paul, her subconscious whispered. He suggested it, supported it. Told you to go for it.
“Fuck Paul,” she muttered.
Unfortunately, Pam heard her.
“What did you say? Did I just hear you use the f-word again? What is this, twice in a week? Lord, you’ve gone years between breaking bad and cussing like that, and now you’re driven to fuck twice in one week?”
Torie couldn’t help it. The opening for the joke was there, and she took it.
“I only fucked him once, thank you very much.”
Pam goggled at her. Then giggled. Then laughed.
Before she knew it, the two of them were laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. Several of the sales-people had looked out of the dealership and seen them, but neither she nor Pam could stop.
“Don’t look at me,” Pam said, still snickering. She deliberately looked out the driver’s side window, up at the sky. “Don’t look at me. I’ll never stop if you keep looking at me.”
“I’m not looking at you,” Torie protested, wiping her eyes. She flipped the mirror down from the visor to check her makeup. “Jeez, I haven’t laughed like that in—” she stopped to think and couldn’t remember a time—“forever.”
Pam was taking deep breaths, and Torie started to giggle again. “You look like a dying fish with all that heaving.”
“Fish don’t have great boobs to heave,” Pam said, bursting into laughter again.
They finally got themselves under control. “I needed that,” Pam said, checking her own makeup. “Lord knows, you did, too.”
“Yeah. So let’s go buy a car.”
“Wonder if they think we’re lesbians?”
The question sent them off into fresh gales of laughter. By the time they finished the paperwork on the car and handed the check over, the salesman was laughing, too. He promised the car would be ready by the weekend.
“Thanks, Pete,” Torie said as they shook hands. “I’ll look forward to picking it up.”
“You’re welcome. It was a pleasure.” He smiled at her, and held her hand longer than necessary. He also smiled at Pam, telling her he was available whenever she wanted a new car.
“Or anything else,” Pam said, still giggling as they got into her car. “Men are so obvious.”
“He was, that’s for sure.”
“They all are, but you’re finally noticing it. How do you think I get all that stuff done? I know the signs, and use them to my advantage.”
Thinking about all the vibes Pete the car salesman had been sending, Torie nodded. She hadn’t paid much attention to it before.
“I guess it’s time to start noticing that kind of thing.”
“You’ll get a lot more done,” Pam joked. “And you’re gonna need it with all you’re taking on. How are you going to do it once you go back to work?”
Torie took a deep breath, and said the words out loud for the first time. “I’m not sure I’m going back.”
Horns honked and there was a brief screech of tires as Pam swerved the car, staring at Torie. “What did you say?”
“I have a lot saved, thanks to Todd. I, uh, think maybe I won’t go back.” It sounded weak, even to her ears, so she tried again. More firmly she said, “They treated me badly, Pammie. I think I might go out on my own.”
“You’re kidding? Finally?”
Stung, Torie pouted. “What do you mean, finally? TruStructure has been good to me.”
“They’ve sucked off all your ideas, you mean. Any big project has had your stamp on it, whether your name was on it or not. It’s about time you hoisted your own flag, and flipped those guys the bird.”
Torie laughed at the thought of a flag with a middle finger raised in salute, flapping over TruStructure’s building. That would be fun. She told Pam, which set them laughing again.
“You’re killing me here, girl,” Pam said, still chuckling. “We’re going to have to run by my house, repair makeup.”
“Lunch first,” Torie said. “I’m starving.”
“Okay. We’ll call Kuhman while we wait for our food.”
The lunch turned into a business meeting. Borrowing paper from the manager, they outlined a business plan for Torie’s new venture. Using another four or five pages, they wrote down more ideas they’d had for the houses.
“That upper bedroom, the big one that isn’t the master,” Pam said, “that would make an awesome office. That balcony would be really cool to enjoy while you’re working.”
Torie could see it taking shape. All of it, ultimately, due to Todd’s generosity.
As if the thought had summoned him, Torie’s phone rang. It was Paul.
“Good morning,” she greeted him warmly, and Pam’s eyebrows rose.<
br />
Paul seemed taken by surprise as well. “Uh, it’s afternoon, but thanks.”
“You’re welcome. What’s up?”
“Tibbet would like to meet with you. Do you want to go to the station, or meet him here?”
“Your office would be better, if that’s okay.”
“Does three-thirty work?”
“That’s fine.”
Paul sounded totally nonplussed as she confirmed the time, wished him a good afternoon, and told him good-bye.
“Mending fences?”
“Trying it your way.”
Pam smiled. “My way’s not always so hot. Hasn’t been working for me in the last few days.”
“Give it time,” Torie said, then reached out to press Pam’s arm in sympathy. “Still no word?”
“No. I called his office. He called in, asked for vacation they said.”
“So he’s not missing.”
Pam shook her head, visibly fighting tears. “No. Just missing from my life.” With a shake of her shoulders, she tossed her hair back and smiled. It was patently fake, but she smiled. “I’ve gotten the message. It had to happen at some point, I guess.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Getting dumped. Now I know what it feels like,” she added. “So now I know better. I’ll do my own dumping differently.”
“Uh huh,” Torie said, fairly sure that would never happen. “Either way, I think he’ll be back. And he’ll have an explanation.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t matter enough for him to tell me what this was about before he took off. Which means I don’t matter, you see?”
“Maybe.” It was Torie’s turn to waffle on the answer.
Before they could discuss it further, Kuhman joined them at the table.
“Ah, so wonderful to have the company of two such lovely ladies,” he said with a slight bow for them both. “I hate to tarnish it with business, but such is life, eh?”
Torie enjoyed the theatrics, and let Pam and Kuhman battle it out as they haggled over what she could and couldn’t do to the house, and what the owners would and wouldn’t pay for.
“I want an option to buy at current market price built into the rental agreement,” Torie interjected.
Kuhman paused, eyebrows raised, then laughed. “Ah, Pam, my dear, your friend is shrewd. I will include it. I’ll put together some current comparables, and we will agree on fair market value, yes?”