by Alex Kava
“Excuse me,” she said, leaning forward in the cab. “When we get to Newburgh Heights, forget the address I gave you. Take me to Louie’s Bar and Grill on Fifty-fifth and Laurel.”
15
IT WAS almost midnight when Agents Preston Turner and Richard Delaney knocked on Maggie’s hotel-room door.
“How ’bout a nightcap, O’Dell?”
“I don’t know, guys. It’s late.”
“It’s not even midnight.” Turner grinned at her. “Party’s just gettin’ started. Besides, I’m starved.” He glanced back at Delaney for reassurance. Delaney only shrugged.
Both men noticed that Maggie had answered the door with her Smith & Wesson gripped firmly at her side. However, neither mentioned it. They had been her shadows since Stucky had escaped last October. When she complained to Cunningham, he had been insulted by her accusation that he was providing watchdogs to make certain she didn’t go after Stucky on her own.
“You know you guys don’t need to babysit me.”
“Come on, Maggie, you know us better than that.”
Yes, she did. Turner and Delaney had never singled her out as some damsel in distress. Maggie had spent years working to be treated like one of the guys. Perhaps that was why Cunningham’s motive, however honorable or well intentioned, still angered her.
“Ah, come on, Maggie,” Delaney finally joined in. “Knowing you, your presentation is all ready for tomorrow.”
Delaney politely stayed in the hallway while Turner leaned against the door frame until she agreed.
“Let me get my jacket.”
She closed the door enough to give her some privacy. She strapped on her holster, then slid her revolver in and put on a blazer to hide the bulge.
Turner was right. The nearby bar and grill buzzed with late-night conventioneers. Delaney led the way, finding a table in a dark corner. Only when he and Maggie sat down did they realize they had lost Turner, who had stopped to talk to a couple of young women perched on bar stools.
“How does he do that so easily?” Delaney asked. “You know, even when I was single, I hated dating. But Turner makes it all look so easy.” He twisted his chair closer to the table and leaned in as though ready to give Maggie his full attention. “So what about you? Are you thinking about getting back into the game?”
“The game?” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“The dating game. What’s it been? Three, four months?”
“The divorce isn’t final yet. I just moved out on Friday.”
“I thought you broke up months ago.”
“We did. It was more practical for both of us to live there until things were settled.”
“Shoot! For a minute there I thought maybe the two of you were thinking about giving it another shot.” He looked hopeful. She knew Delaney was a firm believer in marriage. Despite admiring his partner’s finesse at dating, Delaney seemed to love being married.
“What would you do if Karen made you choose between her and being in the FBI?”
He shook his head, and she was sorry she’d asked. His face got serious. “Part of the reason I became an instructor was because I know Karen gets nervous about me being in the middle of hostage negotiations. That last one in Philly, she had to watch most of it on TV. Some sacrifices are worth making.”
She didn’t want to have this conversation.
“So I’m the bad guy because I’m not willing to sacrifice my career to make my husband feel better?” The anger in her voice surprised her. “I would never ask Greg to stop being a lawyer.”
“Relax, Maggie. You’re not the bad guy.” Delaney remained sympathetic. “There’s a big difference between asking and expecting. Karen would never have asked. I made the decision.”
“Do you miss it?”
He glanced back at her and laughed. “What’s to miss? Standing in freezing-cold or stinking-hot weather for hours, trying to talk some asshole out of blowing away innocent people?” He scratched his jaw, his eyes serious again. “Yeah, I do miss it. But I get called in on a case every now and then.”
“What can I get you two?” a waitress asked as she squeezed between two diners to get to their table.
Immediately, Maggie felt a wave of relief, welcoming the interruption. She saw Delaney’s face relax, too.
“Just Diet Coke for me.” He smiled up at the pretty redhead.
Maggie was impressed with his unconscious flirting. Had it simply become a habit from hanging around Turner so long?
“Scotch, neat,” she said when the waitress looked her way.
“Oh, and that guy over at the end of the bar—” Delaney pointed “—it doesn’t look like it now, but he will eventually be joining us. Is your grill still on?”
The waitress checked her watch. “They’re supposed to close down at midnight.” She kept her voice friendly though Maggie could tell it was an effort. “There are still a few minutes if I get it in now. Any idea what he wants?”
“A burger and fries,” Delaney said without hesitation.
“Medium rare,” Maggie added.
“With pickles and onion.”
“Oh, and cheddar cheese on the burger, too.”
The waitress smiled at them. Maggie glanced at Delaney, and they burst out laughing.
“God, I wonder if Turner realizes how predictable he is?”
“It sounds like the three of you are very good friends,” the waitress said. “I don’t suppose you know what he’ll be drinking?”
“Do you have Boulevard Wheat?” Delaney asked.
“Of course. It’s a Kansas City brew.”
“Okay. Well, that’s what he’ll want.”
“I’ll get his order in and bring back your drinks.”
“Thanks, Rita,” Delaney added as though they were old friends.
As soon as she left their table Maggie gave Delaney’s shoulder a shove. “I thought you said you weren’t good at this stuff?”
“What stuff?”
“This flirting stuff. Usually Turner’s doing it, so I don’t get to see the real master at work.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” But it was obvious from his grin that he was enjoying the attention.
“‘Thanks, Rita’?”
“That’s her name. That’s why they wear those name tags, so we can all share a friendly meal.”
“Oh, right, only she never gets to know our names or sit down and eat with us. How friendly is that?”
“Hey, guys.” Turner slid into the last chair. “Lots of attorneys here this time.”
“Those two women are attorneys?” Delaney craned his neck.
“You betcha.” He waved a piece of paper with their numbers. “And I never know when I might need an attorney.”
“Yeah, right. Like the three of you were talking legal matters.”
Maggie ignored their banter and simply asked, “What conference is this anyway?”
Both men stopped and stared at her as if waiting for the punch line.
“You’re serious?” Turner asked.
“Hey, I make the same presentation every time, whether I’m in Kansas City or Chicago or L.A.”
“You really don’t get into these things, do you?”
“It’s definitely not why I joined the FBI. Besides, Cunningham keeps my name off the program roster, so it’s not like anyone is coming specifically to hear me and my words of wisdom.”
She had interrupted their jovial moods, reminding them why she was really here. Not because she longed to teach profiling to a bunch of cops, but to keep her out of the field, away from Albert Stucky. Rita returned, relieving Maggie once again, this time with a tray of drinks. Turner immediately raised his eyebrows at her when she placed the bottle of beer and a glass in front of him.
“Rita, you’re a mind reader.” He wasted no time using her name just as Delaney had, as if they, too, were old friends.
The pretty waitress blushed. “Your burger and fries should be ready in about
ten minutes.”
“Oh, my God! Rita, will you marry me?”
“Actually, you should thank your friends. They got the order in just before the grill closed.” She smiled at Maggie and Delaney this time. “I’ll bring the rest of the order as soon as it’s ready.” Then she hurried away.
“So, Turner,” Delaney said. “Why are there attorneys at this conference?”
“Mostly prosecutors. Sounds like they’re here for that computer workshop. You know, the database the Bureau’s been setting up. Lots of D.A. offices are finally getting connected. And since they’re all so-o-o busy, and can never spare an experienced attorney, it looks like they’ve sent their fresh young things.” He sat back and surveyed the room.
Maggie and Delaney shook their heads at each other. Just as Maggie tipped back her glass, she saw a familiar figure in the long mirror behind the bar. She slammed her glass down and stood, sending her chair screeching. She looked over to where she thought the mirror had reflected the image.
“Maggie, what is it?”
Was it her imagination? She checked the mirror again. The figure in the black leather jacket was gone.
“What’s going on, Maggie?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.” She sat down, avoiding her friends’ eyes. They were getting used to her jumpy, erratic behavior. Soon, she’d be like the little boy who cried wolf, and no one would pay any attention. Maybe that was exactly what he wanted.
She grabbed her glass and watched the amber liquid swirl. Had it only been her imagination? Had she really seen Albert Stucky or was she simply losing her mind?
16
HE WAITED for her at the rear exit, knowing this was the door she would use when she was ready to leave. The alley was dark. A few bare lightbulbs glowed above some of the back doors. The bulbs were dull, covered with bug shit and swarmed by moths, but still his eyes stung when he looked at them directly. He tucked his sunglasses into his pocket and checked his watch.
Only three cars remained in the parking lot. One was his, and he knew neither of the other two belonged to her. He had decided to offer her a ride, but would she accept?
He knew how to be charming. That was simply a part of the game. If he was to take on this new identity, he needed to play the role that came with it. And out of the two of them, women always preferred him to Albert.
Yes, he knew what women liked to hear, and he didn’t mind telling them. It was part of the manipulation. He had discovered that even strong, independent women didn’t mind giving up control to a man they found charming. What silly, wonderful creatures.
The challenge excited him, and he could feel his erection swelling. He would have no trouble tonight. Now, if he could just wait. He must be patient and charming. Could he be charming enough to get her to invite him home with her?
Perhaps he would start with a gentle touch, a simple caress of her face. He’d pretend he was getting a strand of her lovely hair out of her eyes. She would think him sensitive to her needs. Women loved that crap.
Suddenly the door opened, and there she was. She hesitated, checking the sky. A light mist had begun. She popped open a red umbrella and walked quickly toward the street. Red was definitely her color.
He waited, giving her a head start, while he reached down and checked the scalpel, safe in its custom-made sheath, tucked inside his boot. He caressed its handle, his fingers lingering, but left it there. Then he followed her down the alley.
17
TESS awoke with a splitting headache. Sunlight streamed through the blinds like lasers. Damn it! She had gone to bed without removing her contact lenses. She threw her arm over her eyes.
Suddenly she realized she was naked beneath the covers. And then she felt the sticky mess beside her. Alarmed, she pushed herself up, keeping the bedsheets to her breasts, searching the room for clues.
Why couldn’t she remember Daniel being here? He never stayed over at her house. She noticed her clothes in a tangled mess on the chair. Heaped on the floor next to the chair were what looked like men’s trousers, the tips of shoes peeking out from underneath. A leather bomber jacket hung from the doorknob. She didn’t recognize it as anything Daniel would wear. That was when she heard the shower, aware of its sound only as the water stopped. Her pulse quickened as she tried to remember something, anything, from last night.
She checked the bedside stand. It was eight forty-five. Somehow she remembered it was Monday morning. She didn’t have any appointments on Mondays, but Daniel would. Why couldn’t she remember coming home?
The last thing she did remember was doing tequila shots at Louie’s. Had she called Daniel to pick her up? And would he be furious if she asked him to fill in the blanks? Obviously he hadn’t been angry with her last night; she shifted away from the damp spot.
“Good morning, Tess,” said a rich, deep voice. It didn’t belong to Daniel.
In a panic she sat up again and pushed her back against the headboard. The tall, lean stranger with only a towel around his waist looked concerned.
“Tess?” he said softly. “You okay?”
Then a dam broke loose in her brain, releasing the memories in a flood. He had been at Louie’s, watching her from the corner table, handsome and quiet, so unlike anyone who frequented Louie’s.
“Tess, you’re starting to scare me.”
His concern seemed genuine. At least she hadn’t brought home a mass murderer. But then, how did she think she’d know the difference? Wrapped in only a towel, he looked harmless. Immediately she noticed his firm body and realized he could overpower her without much effort. How could she have been so foolish?
“I’m sorry. You startled me.” She tried to keep the alarm from her voice.
He grabbed his trousers from the floor but stopped before putting them on as if something had just occurred to him.
“Christ! You don’t remember, do you?”
His boyish face looked embarrassed. He fumbled into his trousers, accidentally dropping the towel before they were all the way up. Tess watched, flustered and annoyed that his muscular body was turning her on. She should be worried he could hurt her, instead she found herself wondering how young he was. And why couldn’t she remember his name?
“I should have known you had too much to drink,” he apologized as he searched for his shirt. “I’m a complete idiot, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all.” She smiled again, and his obvious discomfort relaxed her. “It’s just that I don’t do this sort of thing,” she tried to explain. “At least, not anymore.”
“I don’t usually do this sort of thing at all. So you really don’t remember any of last night?”
“I remember you watching me. I remember being very attracted to you.” Her revelation surprised her almost as much as it surprised him.
“That’s it?” He looked wounded.
“Sorry.”
Finally, he grinned. She couldn’t believe how comfortable she felt with him. The only tension seemed to be the obvious sexual attraction, which she tried to ignore. He didn’t look as if he was even thirty. And he was a stranger, for heaven’s sake. She wanted to kick herself. Had she not changed at all after all this time?
“If I ever find my shirt, could I maybe take you to lunch?”
Then she remembered Daniel. She felt the sapphire ring he had given her stabbing into the soft underside of her chin. What was wrong with her? Daniel was a mature, respectable businessman. Sure, he was arrogant and self-absorbed sometimes, but at least he wasn’t some kid she had picked up in a bar.
Still, she watched the handsome young stranger put on socks and shoes while he waited for her answer. He was being a gentleman, pretending he hadn’t had access to every inch of her body only hours ago. The thought should have repulsed or terrified her. It didn’t. Instead, she continued to watch him, enjoying his nervous but fluid motions, yet at the same time annoyed with herself. How had she been so certain he wouldn’t hurt her? One of these days a stranger’s eyes might not b
e a safe way to judge his character.
“So what about lunch?” he asked, looking as though he was steeling himself for rejection.
“I don’t even remember your name,” Tess finally admitted.
“It’s Will. William Finley.” There was a glance and a hesitant smile. “I’m twenty-six, never been married. I’m a lawyer. Just moved to Boston, but I’m visiting a friend here in Newburgh Heights. His name’s Bennet Cartland. His father has a law practice here. You can check it out if you want.” He hesitated. “Probably more than you wanted to know, right?” When she rewarded him with a smile, he continued. “What else? I have no diseases, except I did have the mumps when I was, like, eleven, but then so did my buddy, Billy Watts, and he has three kids. Oh, but don’t worry, I used protection last night.”
“Um…there’s a damp spot,” she said quietly.
“I had only two condoms, but the third time I…well, I pulled out before, well, you know.”
Suddenly she remembered the intensity, could feel it fill her body. The unfamiliar rush frightened her. She couldn’t slip back into her old habits. Not when she had worked so hard.
“I think maybe you better leave, Will.”
He hesitated, staring at his feet. She wondered if he wanted to touch her. Did he have the urge to kiss her goodbye or to convince her to let him stay? Maybe she even wanted him to. Instead, Will found his jacket on the doorknob and left.
She lay back into the pillows, now noticing remnants of his aftershave. Dear God, twenty-six years old! Almost ten years her junior. How could she be such an idiot? Yet, this time when she closed her eyes, their night together started coming back to her in crisp sensations. She could feel his body rubbing against hers, his hands playing her like some delicate instrument, knowing how to send her to places she hadn’t been in a long time.
Tess hugged her pillow to her. She couldn’t let someone like Will Finley sidetrack her. Not when she had worked so hard for what she had. She needed to think of Daniel. Despite their differences, Daniel gave her credibility. He was good for her in all the ways that were necessary for her to become a respected, successful businesswoman. So why did she feel as though she had let something valuable slip from her fingers when she asked Will Finley to leave?
