by Jeanne Adams
The copy he handed to her and to Tibbet was clean, typewritten, and new. “I cleaned it up a bit, took out the people I knew weren’t there, or who had been away. I took Todd off the list,” he added, for her benefit.
“Thanks,” she managed. “It wasn’t him. He was singing.”
Paul laughed. “We both agree on that. You could hear it all over the house.”
“He had a big voice.”
“That he did,” Paul agreed.
“So, not Peterson,” Tibbet agreed, making a note on his own list. “What about the others?”
Torie went down the list.
“I’ve seen Deke Marshall since college. He came to the wedding, and the funeral. I think I saw him somewhere out, too, maybe when Pam and I went somewhere.”
Tibbet made a mark by Deke’s name.
“Of course, I see Tru everywhere.” She indicated Truman Delacorte’s name, a local businessman who was active in every Chamber of Commerce event. He was a pompous ass who seemed to believe he was in every way superior to the general populace. “I think his office is right across the street, isn’t it?”
Tibbet marked his name as well.
“Melvin has asked me out, as I told you. I was already dating Todd when he asked, though.” She frowned over the list. “He asked me out later, too, after Todd left, but like I said before, I wasn’t ready to date. Oh, and Blaine Zamkowski. I saw him at a party two years ago. He and I went to homecoming together freshman year, before either of us pledged anything. I saw him again recently, too, at a building I was working on.”
She found five other names of the twenty or so on Paul’s list. She didn’t feel like any of them were the type to hurt her or to be capable of murdering anyone, much less Todd.
“I just don’t see how it could be any of them.”
“I know it’s hard to fathom, but one of those men was responsible for what happened to you in college, and what’s happening now.”
“You’re sure they’re related?”
“I’m getting more sure by the day,” Tibbet said with conviction. “It’s one of the only things that makes sense.” He reviewed the list with her, and asked Paul more questions about his notes and what he remembered about each man.
“I didn’t know most of those guys,” he said, looking at his notes. “They were upperclassmen. Deke, Melvin, and Blaine were all in my class, but we didn’t hang out.”
“So you said. You were very careful when you were discussing Melvin with his father, Mister Jameson. You want to elaborate now that we’re in private?”
“Not really, no. Melvin’s all right. The only thing I don’t know is why he helped me get my job here, or helped Todd. He didn’t like us all that much. He said it was payback,” Paul remembered.
Tibbet sat up. “What does that mean?”
Paul grinned. “Nothing sinister. The only time we ever got along with Melvin or hung out together was when we were all studying for the bar. He might be a bit of a weasel, but he’s smart, damn smart. He’s…” Paul searched for the right word.
“Weaselboy,” Torie interjected, smiling. “Oh, my gosh, Todd used to call him Weaselboy.”
“Yeah, he did. We both did. But when it came to studying for that damn test, we were willing to take all the help we could get. Wea—Melvin was willing to take a part of the exam and break it down. We took other parts. Together we figured out the way to study for the damn thing. We probably should have sold the method; we would have made a killing. Instead, we just passed the damn thing.”
“All three of you?”
“Yep. Flying colors, for once.”
“I remember that,” Torie said. “I remember the two of you complaining about him, but saying he was okay.”
“Yeah, well, he says we helped him pass, which made him look good to the old man. He says that’s why he put us up for consideration. He told us we’d have to get the job on our own, he’d only get us in the door.”
“What about this Blaine guy?” Tibbet asked.
“Blaine’s a good old boy. He talks a great game, backs it up with hard work, and has a family,” Paul said.
“Sorry, that doesn’t rule him out these days,” Tibbet said, seeming genuinely disappointed. “It would be easier if it did.”
“No, guess not. Now Deke,” Paul said, pointing to the last name on the short list. “He’s kind of a social misfit, but he’s popular anyway. He could say the stupidest things,” Paul reminisced.
“Yes, he could,” Torie added, but she said, “He also couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He was like a bullhorn. If you wanted campus to know it, tell Deke. If not, be sure Deke never found out.”
“I know that kind.”
“So, that’s it. Those are the ones I know or knew, and pretty much what’s going on with them now,” Paul said as they finished going through the list.
“That gives me a place to start. Thanks.” He stood, and Paul did as well. Tibbet ignored him and put a hand out to Torie. “Thank you, Ms. Hagen. I think we’ve made progress. I hope we can catch this guy soon with the help you’ve given me today.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “And no one hopes you catch him more than me.”
Tibbet said, “Yeah, I’m sure,” then took his leave.
Paul returned to the table and sat next to Torie.
“So, how are you feeling? Do you hate me more than you ever have?”
“I’ve never hated you, Paul,” Torie said for what felt like the millionth time.
“No? That’s good to hear.”
“I’ve said it before.”
“Maybe I wasn’t ready to hear it then.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked at him now, instead of the tissue she was folding and refolding in her lap.
“It’s a long story. How about I tell you over dinner?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
He was instantly concerned. “I know. This was rough. I shouldn’t have asked.”
She smiled. “It’s okay. I did love the flowers, you know. And I’ll save you a dance.”
“Rain check on dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He leaned back in the chair. “Why don’t I take you back to the hotel and buy you a drink. Just a drink,” he teased. “Then you can go on up to the room, order room service, and get some rest.”
“If you come over to the hotel and have a drink, do you really think I’ll order room service?”
He didn’t know if it was an invitation or an honest question, but his libido decided it was an invite. “Oh, better not ask me that one,” he growled at her.
To his delight, she laughed. “What I meant was,” she corrected, still smiling, “I would feel like I had to go to dinner. I…have a lot to do.” He didn’t think work was what she needed, or was even talking about, but he let it drop.
“Well, why don’t I drive you over there and you can tell me about it.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think that’s wise.” She stood up, straightening her blouse and picking up her purse.
“Do you really want to be wise?” he said, moving toward her. When she didn’t protest, he eased in, slid his arms around her. She felt so good, right there, next to him.
He heard her purse land on the table, and her arms encircled him as well. It was as if they dove into one another, pressing together, letting their bodies speak what they couldn’t yet say.
Tongues tangling in heated battle, they kissed and murmured endearments to one another, things that were hardly intelligible, but deeply heard.
“Torie,” he groaned, wanting to take her right there on the table. “You have to let me, I need to.” He couldn’t form the words, could barely form the thoughts behind them.
“Not here,” she moaned. “The door…”
The thought of someone coming in, finding them wound around each other, clothes askew, was like cold water on a hot day. Paul half-laughed, half-moaned. “You’re right. You’re right,” he mumbled, still kissin
g her. “We have to stop. Soon.”
“Now,” she said, breathlessly. “We have to stop now.”
He pulled back, the barest fraction. “Lord, woman,” he panted, resting his brow on hers. “You wind me up.”
“Mutual,” she said, taking a deep breath. He was able, from his vantage point looking down, to see the lovely deep V of her breasts as they rose and fell. As if he weren’t hard enough, his overworked libido screamed more loudly for release.
“Ahhh, I think I’d better let go,” he said ruefully. “Before you take another one of those deep breaths.”
“Why?” she asked, puzzlement evident in her voice.
Taking her hand, he slid it down from his waist to the rock hard bulge in his trousers. “That.”
“Ohhhhh,” she purred, gently squeezing him, her eyes hooded, her lips moist.
“Unless you want to bring me a new pair of pants, you need to stop that,” he growled, grabbing her hand and returning it to his waist. Holding it captive there, he closed his eyes. “Not that I really want you to stop, but the circumstances…”
“Aren’t ideal.”
“Hah, no. They’re not.”
“I really, really want you to come to the hotel, but I think it would be a bad idea.” She blurted out the words, as if she were afraid to say them.
He laughed, knowing she was right, wishing it were easy. “We’d never get dinner. Or drinks.”
She giggled and it lifted his heart. The wrenching tears had brought him to the brink of breaking down himself. Her horrible shame, so unwarranted, had been brutal to unmask.
Everything within him knew she needed time. But that was intellectual. The part of him that was male, primal, and in need wanted to push the matter, urge her to let him come over, hold her.
The images in his mind were erotic and brought him back to the painful brink.
“I’ll have Martha call you a cab.”
“Good idea.”
They stood together for a few more minutes, breathing hard like marathoners at the end of the race. “Think you’re ready?”
“I’d say for what, but that would just start this all over again, right?” He could hear the laughter, so he did the only thing he could. He tickled her.
“Oh, jeez,” she nearly shrieked. “Stop that!”
“Shhhh. Martha’s going to know exactly what we’re doing.”
“Don’t tickle me then,” she admonished, pulling away to put her clothes to rights.
“Not right now, maybe later,” he teased, happy to see her smile again.
Her phone was ringing as she got into the room. She picked it up and the front desk informed her that more flowers had arrived.
This time, they were sunflowers. Fat, gorgeous, and cheerful. The card read:
Save the last dance, too.
Spinning around the room in delight, she clutched the card to her chest. “This is nuts,” she exalted. “Crazy. Fabulous.”
Flopping down on the bed, she lay back, enjoying the sensation of arousal and delicious sensuality. His reaction to her was instant and amazing. And as always, her reaction to him was heated, wet, powerful. She nearly had an orgasm thinking about how good he’d felt pressed into her body, how marvelous and affirming it had been to hold him, see his muscles quiver as he struggled to hold back his desire for her.
“Ooooh,” she drew out the word, savoring the sensations. Tomorrow night, after the partner dinner, she would bring him back here. They would take their time. Enjoy each other, free of the past.
With that thought foremost in her mind, she fell deeply and completely asleep.
In the darkness, he watched. He could see the police cars now, tucked in with the commuters and the travelers. Their Pennsylvania plates and multiple antennas gave them away if you took the time to look. Parked between cars from Ontario and Georgia, the cop cars were conspicuous. So was the latest bodyguard.
The cops would be in the bar and the lobby lounge, watching for trouble. The private hired muscle would be on the floor where Torie was, probably in one of the sitting areas by the elevator.
Excellent.
He smiled. Time for a little fun.
Chapter Nineteen
“Jameson? Jameson? You in there?” Paul heard the pounding on his door, and went from the depth of sleep to instant, hyperaware wakefulness in the space of a heartbeat.
He struggled into jeans as he hurried to the door. “I’m here. That you, Tibbet?”
“Whaddya think, it’s a monkey?”
“Hey,” Paul complained, pulling open the door. “You’re the one who told me to check this shit out before whipping open the door.”
“Yeah,” Tibbet said, prowling into the house.
“What’s up?” He knew it wasn’t Torie. Tibbet would have said so immediately.
“Weird shit.”
“Huh?”
“Torie’s okay, but—”
“What happened?” Paul demanded, grabbing Tibbet’s arm to stop him in his tracks.
“You’re gonna want to let go,” Tibbet said through gritted teeth.
“Not till you tell me what happened.”
Tibbet shook him off, but started telling. “I had two watchers on the hotel. One in the parking lot, two in the lobby. I could only keep ’em on for a while. City’s busy tonight. We needed ’em, ya know?”
“Budget cuts suck.”
“Yeah, you know it.” Tibbet seemed relieved that Paul understood. His chief had nearly fried his ass about the cost of manpower.
“So it was time for them to switch around, not be so obvious, and parking lot guy checks in with central. He goes into the bar and next thing I know, I got a nine-one-one to the head over there for the other two to be picked up, intoxicated.”
“Drunk? On duty?”
“Somebody wanted it to look that way. Waitress says they were both drinking nothing. One had tonic and lime, the other, an O’Doul’s.”
“That’s the nonalcoholic beer, right?”
“Yeah. So suddenly both of ’em start getting silly. One of ’em’s singing with the band, the other guy’s picking fights and shit. My third guy walks into the middle of this.”
“Hence the nine-one-one.”
“Yeah. I roll over there, fast, calling your Torie, but can’t get her. She’s turned her phone off, by the way, but I didn’t know that. Freaked me out.”
“You didn’t call me?” Paul nearly shouted the words. Now he was upset, and pissed.
“Nothin’ to tell till I got there.”
“But she’s okay?”
“Sound asleep. But I had to call my team in because someone had used our kind of crime scene tape all over the hall, over the doors and exits. I think our boy didn’t know which room she was in. She’s not registered, so he couldn’t get her room number.”
Paul frowned. It didn’t make sense. “But your guys…”
“Were drugged. Someone slipped them something. Both of ’em are at the ER, puking up their guts, getting it out of their systems.”
“Oh, that’s nasty.”
“Yeah, stupid, too. Nothing like an out-of-control cop.”
Frightening thought, Paul decided.
“So you were able to call Torie?”
“Once I convinced the front desk clerk that I really was a cop. Seems a slightly built man, blond and brown-eyed, had come in earlier claiming to be a cop and asking for Torie’s room. You’d given me her friend Pam’s name. I asked for that and the clerk pulled it right up. Perky little twit called her for me.”
“You woke her up. What did you tell her?”
“Just that there had been an incident in the lobby, and I didn’t want her to worry if she heard about it. I told her to stay in her room, keep the curtains closed. That sort of thing.”
Paul let himself sit, let himself relax now that he knew Tibbet had talked to Torie. He looked at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning.
“I’m going off shift. If I don’t get some sleep, I won’t
be fit to catch a one-legged man on a unicycle.”
Paul laughed. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Welcome. Had to come check on my guys over here, too. Sorry to wake you.”
“You’d have been sorrier if you hadn’t.”
It was Tibbet’s turn to laugh. “Figured.”
When he was gone, Paul paced the kitchen. He hadn’t turned on any lights in the small room, preferring the dark, preferring not to be a target.
He wanted to call her, reassure himself that she was okay. Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to go over there.
He had nearly talked himself into going back to bed when he heard his phone trill, signaling an incoming text message.
“Tibbet said he would tell you,
but so you know,
I’m okay.”
He read it, glad to see the words, hear them. It was a relief to have Torie confirm Tibbet’s assessment. The time stamp was less than a minute ago.
He hit return dial, and waited for her to pick up.
“Hey,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.
“Hey, back. You okay?” He slouched into a chair, closing his eyes to see her in his mind.
“Yeah. I guess. I was scared to death when Tibbet called from the front desk. I thought…I thought something had happened to you.”
Having felt the same, Paul reveled in her concern. “Yeah, I nearly freaked when he pounded on my door.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry he woke you,” she said.
“If he hadn’t, he’d have been hurting in the morning,” Paul stated as a blunt fact.
“Paul,” she admonished with a gentle laugh, “he’s doing his job.”
“Yeah. I know.” He didn’t want to talk about Tibbet, he wanted to talk about her. “You get some sleep?”
“Some. I was asleep when Tibbet called.”
“Hmmm. You sleeping now?”
“No.” She gave a soft laugh. “I’m talking to you, you goof.”
“I wish I was there with you.”
“I wish you were, too,” she admitted.