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he couldn't take the chance the guy would see them speaking
to one another.
Nicolette slowly meandered along the sidewalk in front of
the shops, and Heath glanced back and forth from her to the
escalators. Several moments passed before a youngish guy
carrying a black backpack wandered nonchalantly out the
door and to the escalators.
"Nic," Heath whispered into the mic. "I think I see him.
This guy is about 5'8 and young. Sort of thin with shaggy
dark hair hanging over his eyes. I know you never got a good
look at the blackmailer, but does that sound like it could be
him?"
"Hold on. I'll head that way and take a look."
"No!" Heath's heart sped up in panic. "Don't go near him.
If he spots you, no telling what he'll do. Just tell me if you
think it sounds like him."
He watched as she paused indecisively. "I'll be careful."
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"Jesus Christ, Nic. He's going to see you. I'm too far away
to do anything if he hurts you. Hell, if nothing else, you'll tip
him off, and he'll run. Just stay back!"
"Okay. You're right. I'm sorry."
She continued toward the lot where she'd parked her Jeep.
Heath let out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks," he said.
"Sure thing." She gave a little wave without looking in his
direction. "Good luck."
The suspect was almost to the bottom of the escalator.
Heath waited until he stepped off, then quickly moved toward
him, keeping a discreet distance behind. The guy headed
toward the parking garage. Good. That would be an out of the
way place to have a little chat without being spotted.
Heath caught up to him on the second level. Not seeing
anyone around, he grabbed the guy by one shoulder and
clamped a hand on his mouth. The guy yelled out, but it was
muted. Heath dragged him between two SUV's and slammed
him up against one.
His eyes rounded. Behind Heath's hand, he mumbled,
"What the fuck?"
"I'm going to let go, but if you scream or try to get away,
I'll hurt you, got it?"
The guy nodded.
Heath released his mouth and jerked the backpack off his
shoulder.
"What's this about, man?" he asked, his voice frightened,
but as Heath instructed, he didn't yell. "What are you doing? I
ain't got nothing in there worth taking, but you can have it."
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Heath yanked open the zipper and his heart sank into his
stomach. A couple of textbooks and some paper. A few cans
of energy drink.
"School's out for Christmas break," Heath said stupidly. It
was the only thing he could think of to say. Why was the kid
carrying textbooks?
"No shit." His voice was reedy but defiant. "I carry them
around. Study when I can. College is tough, man."
He had the wrong guy. Shit. "Sorry. Look. This was a
mistake. I thought you were someone else." He pulled two
twenties from his wallet. "I know this doesn't make up for it,
but here you go."
The kid took the bills. Fear cleared from his face. "I guess I
won't call the cops."
Heath nodded, and the kid scurried away.
At a run, Heath went back to Dave and Buster's. The lobby
was crowded with people waiting for a table, but he skirted
around them and went to the right, into the game room.
Making a beeline for the Elvis game, he looked beneath it. No
backpack. He searched the crowd and didn't find anyone
holding one.
He went into the bathroom. Two stalls were occupied, but
he checked each of the empty ones. He cursed when he
looked into the second. An empty backpack lay on top of the
toilet seat, unzipped and deflated.
Heath cursed and snatched it up. The blackmailer had
obviously taken the cash and stashed it on his person, in a
heavy coat or another bag. He probably made his escape
while Heath was chasing the innocent college student.
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Damn and double damn.
Heath took the pack with him, hoping but doubting he
could get some kind of fingerprints or something to lead him
to the actual blackmailer. He'd have to send it back home to
Burke, and it would take a little while, if he ever got a good
print, not to mention a match.
Dejected, he slid into his car and headed to Nicolette's.
The detectives were waiting for Nicolette when she arrived
home. Great.
As if her nerves weren't strung tight enough from the
money drop. Another ten thousand dollars gone. But this
time, at least Heath had been there with her. He'd called her
while she was on the way home and told her he hadn't gotten
the guy. That the suspect he spotted wasn't him. Even if it
had been, then what? They still couldn't turn him over to the
cops. But if nothing else, Heath would figure out a way to
stop him, she was sure of it.
She stepped up onto her porch where Detectives Patella
and Berry stood.
"You've been gone a while." Patella smiled and pulled a
stick of gum from his pocket. He slid it into his mouth and
chomped down, speaking around it, "We were beginning to
think you'd skipped town."
His tone was light, but his eyes were serious.
"Sorry. I was checking on one of my units." She felt dirty
and guilty as soon as the lie tumbled free. It was the first
time she'd lied to the police, yet they still suspected she'd
killed her husband. "What can I do for you gentleman? You
were just here a few days ago."
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"Can we come in?" Detective Berry asked.
No. "Yes. Sure."
Nicolette unlocked the door and led the detectives inside.
She didn't offer them anything to drink or a seat. She didn't
want them settling in for a lengthy visit, not only because
they made her nervous, but Heath might arrive any moment.
She hoped.
They helped themselves to a seat, each of them settling at
one end of the couch.
Patella looked around. "You have a guest staying with
you?"
Nicolette frowned. "No. Why would you say that?"
"Seems like Heath King has been spending a lot of time
around here. Just thought he was staying with you."
Nicolette tensed as her suspicions about being watched
were confirmed. "Are the police spying on me?"
"Not spying. Keeping an occasional eye out. All part of the
investigation."
"Heath is not staying here with me."
"When we interviewed him, he said he was staying here."
Patella seemed pleased at catching her in an untruth.
"Well, yes. He's staying at the empty duplex next door."
"Ah. Why is that?"
"He's in town for the holidays, and it's crowded at his
mother's house. We
're old friends. It gives him a place to stay
and a chance for us to catch up." Sort of a lie. Mostly a lie.
"Catch up?" Detective Patella's forehead wrinkled in a
frown. "Exactly what is the nature of your relationship with
Heath King? Are you lovers?"
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Her face flushed, and she told a third lie to the detectives.
"No. We're not lovers. We're close friends. Nothing more."
She'd been fooling herself these past few days. No way
could she and Heath continue their affair. They'd surely be
caught. A deep, troubling sadness entered her chest. She
knew what she had to do.
"Are you being honest with us, Mrs. Morgan?"
"I am being as honest as I know how. I wish you would
just leave me alone and find the real killers."
"Ah, so now you do believe your husband was murdered."
"I'm not sure. If you believe it, then it's likely true. I just
mean, if he was killed, I hope you find the killer. Soon."
"Yeah. We do too."
They stood. "We'll leave you alone for now, Mrs. Morgan,
but you be sure to give us a call if you decide to tell us
something that will help with the investigation. Pass that on
to Mr. King, too."
Nicolette opened the door to Heath's knock and stepped
back to let him in.
Her mood seemed troubled, subdued. Had something else
happened, or was it just the unending list of problems she
was dealing with?
"Would you like something to drink?" she offered, going to
the bar.
"I'll take a beer."
She handed him a Budweiser and poured a glass of Chablis
for herself.
When they were seated, he gave her the details of his
mistaken identity encounter and finding the empty backpack.
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She rubbed her forehead and sighed. "I don't think we'll
ever find him."
Heath reached out and squeezed her uninjured knee.
"Don't give up yet. We'll find him."
"I know you'll do your best." She smiled and took a sip of
her wine, then moved her knee away from his touch. As small
as the rejection was, it still caused a shaft of pain to his
heart. Something had changed between them. He wasn't sure
if he really expected to continue sleeping with her, but he'd
hoped.
"Has something happened?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You seem like something's on your mind."
She barked a humorless laugh and stood, pacing to the
fireplace. "Yeah. A lot of things."
He rose and joined her as she stared into the flames. "This
is different, though. You seem like you want to say
something."
She took another sip from the glass, not looking at him.
"What's happened between us has been amazing."
"It has. I sense a but in there."
Now she looked at him, her eyes searching his. Pain and
uncertainty showed in hers. "I never wanted to ruin our
friendship."
He frowned. "Is that what we've done? Ruined our
friendship?"
She moved away and stalked to the patio door to look
outside at the still-falling snow. "You and Louisa are really all
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I have left. I mean, there's Marla and Donovan, but I haven't
known them as long as I have you and Louisa."
Even though she was obviously trying to put distance
between them, he couldn't help himself. He walked up behind
her, but resisted the urge to touch. "You've still got me, you
know. I don't want the sex to ruin that either. You'll always
have me."
In the reflection of the glass, her mouth tilted in a wry
smile. "Even if I told you I couldn't do it anymore? That the
sex has to stop?"
Another stab of pain shot through him, this one deeper. It
wasn't entirely because she said the sex was over, but
because she thought he would no longer want to be her
friend.
"You really think that?" When she didn't answer, he took
her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Do you really think
I'm that kind of man?"
She looked up at him, her eyes misty with unshed tears.
"Of course not. I don't think that at all." She shook her head
and wiped a hand over her face. "It's just all such a mess."
"Did something else happen?"
"The detectives were here today. They were asking
questions about us. About our relationship. I had to lie to
them for the first time, and it made me feel guilty. Almost as
if I was responsible for Rudy's death."
"Oh, sweetie." He pulled her against him and hugged her,
rubbing a hand up and down her back. He tried to ignore the
surge of sexual desire that washed over him. He needed to
prove to her that he was still her friend and not some man
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who just wanted in her pants. "You have nothing to feel guilty
about. Rudy's been gone for almost a year. Maybe we
shouldn't have slept together, but it doesn't make you a bad
person. Doesn't make you responsible for his death."
She pulled back and smiled up at him. "Of course not. It
sounds crazy when you put it that way. Damn. It's just that
my emotions are so raw, so mixed up. I no longer know
what's right and what's wrong."
He tilted her chin up and placed a quick, chaste kiss on her
lips. "Let's just take this one day at a time. You don't have to
figure everything out right now, okay?"
"Okay."
"Let's concentrate on finding out who's doing this to you
and let the rest take care of itself."
"Sounds good, but how are we going to do that? We don't
have a clue."
Heath released her. "Not yet, but it doesn't mean we won't
figure it out. Did you give me all of Rudy's papers?"
"That's everything I have."
"What about at the office—are there any papers there?"
"Yes. I left his desk alone. But anything there is probably
just business. Charity stuff. You want to go through it?"
Heath shrugged. "It's worth checking into."
"Okay. Let's go now. I'll let you in, and you can search his
desk."
He glanced out the window with a frown. "The weather's
getting worse. Why don't you give me a key and stay here
where it's safe and warm."
"You sure?"
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"Absolutely."
"Okay. I'll get you that key."
She returned in a few moments and handed him a key. "I
hope you understand why we can't...you know. As much as
everyone loved Rudy, if they knew about us, they'd hate me."
"I do understand. We're attracted to one another, but the
friendship is more important." The words were hard to say,
but he felt he had to say them to help assuage her guilt. "We
can't do anything to jeopa
rdize your freedom, or your safety."
She nodded. "I am attracted to you, and you remind me of
Rudy." Taking in a deep breath, she said, "I think I was
lonely, missing him. Maybe I was just trying to fill the
emptiness he left by making love with you."
Heath felt like he'd been slammed in the gut with a
baseball bat. Fill the emptiness, my ass. Maybe he should
remind her of what she'd said earlier... I don't miss Rudy as
much now that you're here.
No. He wouldn't do that. He didn't know if she was putting
distance between them because she was afraid of what the
police might learn, or if she truly felt that way. In either case,
he wouldn't push her. They had too many things to deal with
right now. Later, though, he'd force her to confront her
feelings. Find out once and for all if there was hope for a
future together.
He'd allow her to play it her way. Not letting the effect of
her words show in his voice, he nodded. "You're probably
right."
He slipped the key in his jeans pocket and turned away
before she could see the hurt in his eyes. Grabbing his coat,
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he headed outside. The frigid cold felt oddly similar to the
spot where his heart once beat inside his chest.
[Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Seventeen
Heath shivered as he made his way through the dark chill
to Rudy's office. Behind the closed door, he started with the
filing cabinet but only found files on the charity.
Going to the desk, he sat in Rudy's chair and opened the
top drawer. Nothing but pens and office supplies there. He
opened the second drawer and found a small paper-clipped
stack of papers at the back.
Taking them out, he removed the clip and began thumbing
through them. Most of them were receipts; restaurants, gas,
ATM withdrawal slips. All were dated in the months before
Rudy died. One particular receipt caught Heath's eye. It was
for a hotel in town and was dated a week before Rudy's
death. Why would he need a hotel room in town? A hotel
receipt for a married man spelled cheating. Unless he and
Nicolette shared the room for a special night out? Heath didn't
want to consider the thought of his best friend cheating on his