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Private Affair

Page 13

by Rebecca York


  “How?”

  “By his behavior. I’d love to have a bug in the office and find out if he got on the horn to someone as soon as he saw us in the parking lot.”

  “Who would he call?”

  “Someone else who was at the party who has an interest in hiding what really happened that night.” He slid Olivia a glance but didn’t ask the question that was in his mind. Cannon had said Olivia hadn’t seen what happened at the rec room bar because she was wasted. Was that a smoke screen, or was he telling the truth? Max would like to know. But perhaps now was not the time to ask.

  They reached the car and got in.

  “Now where?” Olivia asked.

  “Back home.”

  She looked relieved, like she’d had enough excitement to last for a couple of days. He drove to the farmhouse and paused at the mouth of the access road.

  “What are you doing?” Olivia asked.

  “Just looking around.”

  “To see what?”

  “Someone was here last night. I’m looking for evidence that they came back.”

  “You think they’re going to leave a sign?”

  “Not intentionally.”

  He walked twenty yards up the driveway, scanning the fields for anything out of place, then came back to the SUV and steered the vehicle up the rutted lane to the gravel area beside the house.

  They both climbed out and went inside, both of them obviously on edge, with no way to avoid being alone together. He hadn’t planned the frantic grappling in the car, but it had happened and it had crossed a line that Max wasn’t sure he could step back over. Olivia knew he wanted her. He knew she wanted him, although perhaps he could still rationalize that their emotions had been supercharged by the encounter with the security guard—and by her reaction to going back to the cabin in the woods. Before he could decide his next move, his phone buzzed.

  Chapter 15

  It was a text message from Shane.

  New confidential development in the case. Need to talk.

  Okay, Max texted back.

  Need to talk to you alone. Meet me at restaurant where you had meeting last night. South end of parking lot.

  Max glanced at Olivia.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’ve got to take care of something.”

  “Just you?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to leave me alone…” Her voice trailed off before starting again. “Will you be gone long?”

  “I don’t think so. Lock the door behind me, and don’t let anyone in. I’ll set the alarm before I leave.”

  He strode to the desk and pressed some buttons on the computer there.

  “It will chirp if anyone comes near the house.”

  “And what am I supposed to do?”

  “Call my cell phone. I won’t be far.”

  He stepped outside onto the front porch, hearing the lock click behind him. As soon as he was by himself, he called Shane to ask for more details. The call went right to voice mail. But Shane had just texted him. What was that about? Maybe leaving wasn’t such a good idea.

  He tried another text. Why aren’t you answering phone?

  A moment later, another text came through. Want to keep conversation off the air.

  Because?

  Sorry. It’s something you need to know about Olivia.

  He’d almost decided not to go. But he didn’t like the implications of his partner’s message. Obviously Shane had some confidential information about Olivia. What was it? Something about her background that had come to light? Or was it worse than that? Had Shane found evidence that she was involved in the killings?

  Max fought the clogged feeling in his throat, hating that he was going to have to wait to meet with his partner to find out the answer. Why the shit couldn’t Shane simply call him?

  Teeth clenched to avoid snarling in frustration, he climbed back into the car and backed out of the parking area, then reversed direction and bounced down the drive.

  ***

  Fighting the goose bumps peppering her arms, Olivia rubbed her shoulders as she watched the scene out the window. It looked like Max had decided not to leave, then changed his mind. Now he was speeding back down the access road. What kind of message had he received? And where was he going? He hadn’t even told her who he was meeting.

  She couldn’t help feeling confused—and disappointed. She’d thought that maybe the two of them were starting to work together pretty well, on the murder investigation and maybe on a personal level, too. Or was that simply what she wanted to be true?

  She watched the cloud of dust raised by the SUV’s wheels, then stayed at the window, staring out. It was only a few minutes later when she saw a car turn into the driveway.

  Her heart leaped. It was Max coming back after all.

  But as she stared through the dust, she saw that it was another vehicle. At the same time, the alarm in the other room began to chirp, alerting her that someone was approaching.

  Oh Lord, Max was gone, and she was alone. She fumbled in her purse for her cell phone and pulled it out, thinking she would call him back. Then she blinked when she saw who got out of the car. Putting the phone back, she watched Claire Lowden heading for the front door. Claire was one of the women from her class. She’d been pretty involved with the in crowd at school, and she’d been at the party Olivia had dreamed about. But Claire hadn’t been at the meeting the other night. Olivia hadn’t known her well, but they had traveled in the same circles.

  In school, she’d always been well dressed. Today she was wearing rumpled jeans and a sweatshirt. Her dark hair looked like she hadn’t combed it after getting out of bed, and she looked like she hadn’t bothered with any makeup.

  She glanced up at the house, then hurried toward the front steps, her face pale and drawn.

  Olivia moved from the window to the door. On the other side of the barrier, Claire knocked as though a hoard of evil aliens was after her, and the only safety was in the house.

  “Olivia? Are you there? Olivia, I see your car out here. You must be home. You have to let me in,” she demanded, her voice rising in desperation.

  Max’s instructions were to keep the door locked, but the woman’s obvious terror tore at her.

  “Claire, what are you doing here?”

  “Please, you have to let me in,” the visitor begged.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s after me.”

  Not evil aliens—but “someone.”

  The dread in Claire’s tone was simply too much. Surely Max couldn’t have been talking about a defenseless, terrified woman when he’d laid down the law about no visitors.

  “Olivia, please.”

  Unable to ignore her classmate’s plight, Olivia unlocked the door, and Claire flew into the front hall.

  “Thank God,” she breathed, coming to a quick stop and looking around as though she was now wondering what she was doing here at all. Up close, she looked like she hadn’t washed her hair or changed her clothes in weeks. Or taken a shower, Olivia thought as she breathed in the odor coming off the woman.

  “What is it?” Olivia asked.

  Claire clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides but said nothing.

  Olivia gestured toward the living room. “Come in and sit down. Can I get you a glass of water?”

  Claire was still staring at her as though she’d suddenly lost her sense of direction. “I don’t know,” she answered in a vague, airy voice.

  “Come into the living room,” Olivia said again, turning and hoping Claire would follow.

  When she heard footsteps behind her, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  “What’s that noise?” Claire demanded to know, apparently just becoming aware of the alarm her arrival had triggered.

  “Just something in the other room,” Olivia answered. “I’ll turn it off.”

  She went into the office and disabled the beeper
. When she returned, Claire was still standing, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

  “Let’s get comfortable.”

  When Claire didn’t move, Olivia took one of the easy chairs and made a show of settling into the cushions.

  Claire hesitated for a moment then dropped onto the sofa, leaning forward, every muscle in her body radiating tension

  “What is it? What’s happening?” Olivia asked.

  “Someone’s stalking me,” she said in a rush.

  “How do you know?”

  “You think I’m lying?”

  “No. No. Of course not. Just tell me what’s happened.”

  The other woman answered with a high-pitched laugh before she began to speak. “I started getting phone calls a couple of weeks ago. First hang-up calls when I said hello. Then it changed, and I could hear someone breathing on the other end of the line.”

  “That is pretty scary. Did you call the police?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “When I went out to go to work one morning, there was a note under my windshield wiper. It said that if I contacted the police, I would be killed.”

  Olivia sucked in a sharp breath. “That would have certainly made me call the cops,” she said.

  “Maybe not if it was happening to you,” her visitor said in a strained voice. “How do you know how you would act?”

  Not wanting to antagonize Claire, Olivia nodded. But she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have sat back and simply let someone systematically terrorize her. And although she hadn’t called the cops when Angela had been murdered, she’d taken action by looking up private detective agencies and settling on Rockfort Security.

  After they had accepted the assignment, Max had been with her most of the time since she’d hired them. Too bad he’d chosen this afternoon to leave her alone. Should she call him? He’d seemed uptight when he’d left. Maybe she’d better try to handle this by herself right now and hope that he’d be home soon.

  She had kept her gaze on Claire, noting the woman’s pale skin. As Olivia watched, her visitor lifted a hand to her mouth and began to chew on a hangnail. She seemed ready to fall apart, and Olivia knew that she was going to have to handle her gently.

  “Was the note handwritten?”

  “Typed. Or I guess from a printer.”

  “Did you save it?”

  “Yes.” She fumbled in her purse, pawing through the contents, then looked up. “I thought it was here.”

  “That’s okay. What else happened?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “I heard noises outside the house. In the morning there would be things on the doorstep.”

  “Things?”

  “Like little dead birds and animals.”

  Olivia sucked in a sharp breath. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m not lying,” Claire insisted, her voice rising in desperation or outrage.

  Olivia held up a hand. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just seems so…” She didn’t finish the sentence. What did it seem like, exactly? She’d been about to say crazy, but stopped herself in time. Now she was thinking that someone was trying to intimidate and scare the wits out of Claire Lowden, and it looked like they had done a very good job. Maybe they’d somehow even intensified the effects with drugs—if that was possible.

  “Why did you come to me?” Olivia asked, trying not to sound like she was making an accusation and praying that she could get the situation under control.

  “He said you were the only person who could help.”

  “He? Who are you talking about?”

  “The guy who’s been after me. This afternoon, he finally said something over the phone. He told me to come to you—or I’d be sorry.”

  As she took in the distraught woman’s words, Olivia felt as though she’d suddenly stepped off a high cliff into empty air, and now she was plunging downward at a terrifying speed. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You’re saying the guy who was stalking you sent you to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Like I said, this afternoon. Just a little while ago. I was so scared. I came straight over.”

  “Okay, that’s good,” she said automatically. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she remembered the way Max had taken off on some mysterious errand. Did that mean the man had found a way to get Max out of the house before sending Claire here? It sounded like a complicated maneuver, but unfortunately it fit the situation. Which meant that they were both in danger.

  Olivia shifted in her seat. “We have to call the police.”

  “No!”

  Olivia pushed out the chair, strode to where she’d left her purse on the sideboard and picked up the cell phone she’d laid beside it.

  Claire’s eyes widened. Leaping up, she followed on Olivia’s heels.

  “No!” she shouted again. “You can’t call. You’ll get us both killed.”

  “We can’t handle this by ourselves.”

  When she started to press 911, the other woman made a grab for the phone. Olivia wrenched her hand away and took a step back. Still on the attack, Claire lunged forward and smacked Olivia across the face with surprising force. Stunned, she reared back as Claire reached out again. But this time Olivia was too disoriented to hang on to the phone. Claire snatched it from Olivia’s hand and threw it on the floor, where she crushed it under the heel of her shoe with a crackling sound.

  Olivia stared at the phone in horror.

  ***

  Max pounded his hands against the steering wheel.

  “Come on,” he muttered, speaking to Shane, who obviously couldn’t hear him. He had been waiting in the parking lot for ten minutes and Shane hadn’t showed. In frustration, he kept scanning the entrances, waiting for his partner, but so far he was sitting here in his car all by himself.

  Unable to stay still any longer, he got out his phone again and texted. Where are you?

  There was no answer for several moments, then another text message flashed onto the screen. Almost there.

  OK.

  To get a better view of his surroundings, he got out of the car and craned his neck scanning the highway outside the parking area. A vehicle came down the road, and he breathed out a sigh when he assumed it was Shane. But it drove on by, leaving him tenser than ever. Once again, the minutes ticked by again and still no Shane.

  Max cursed under his breath. It wasn’t like either of his partners to pull this kind of stunt. He’d joined up with them partly because he knew they were both reliable. So what the hell was going on? Had Shane flipped out?

  He squeezed the cell phone in his hand, then relaxed his grip. He was still holding the instrument when it rang. When he scanned the number, he didn’t recognize who it was, and he didn’t have the patience for anything extraneous now. But ignoring the call didn’t appear to be an option, because the phone kept ringing.

  “All right. All right,” he shouted as he stabbed the answer button, almost putting his finger through the damn screen.

  To his surprise, Shane’s voice came over the line like there was nothing out of the ordinary about the call. “Just want to give you a heads up.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve been waiting in this parking lot for you for half an hour.”

  “Huh?”

  “You texted me. You said you had some information about Olivia.”

  The man on the other end of the line swore. “That wasn’t me. I’ve been running around for the past few hours trying to find out what happened to my phone—and get a new one. It was acting wonky, and I took it to the repair shop—where it disappeared.”

  Max’s heart had begun to thud. “Jesus, what are you talking about?”

  “Someone went to a lot of trouble to steal my phone. They must have jammed the signal. I dropped it off at the repair shop, and when I went to pick it up, they told me it had disappeared, and they’d give me a replacement.”

  “And you didn’t think that was s
trange?” Max asked in a hard voice.

  “Yeah, I thought it was strange. I’ve been trying to figure out what was going on, but I sure as hell didn’t think it had anything to do with you.”

  Max was already starting the engine as he struggled to speak coherently. “Well, whoever took your phone did it so he could send me a bunch of text messages that I’d think were from you.”

  “What messages?”

  “That you had confidential information about Olivia that you didn’t want to tell me over the phone—or in front of her.” Gunning the engine, he headed for the parking lot exit. “Got to go. Someone used your phone to lure me away from the house, and Olivia is there alone.”

  “Oh Christ,” Shane answered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” Max agreed as he sped back the way he’d come, praying that he wasn’t going to find a disaster when he arrived at the house.

  “Do you want us over there?” Shane was asking.

  “I don’t know.” He hung up because he knew he was driving too fast to focus on the call and stay on the road.

  Fear pounded through him like massive blows from a boxer’s fist as he raced toward the farmhouse, cursing himself for leaving. Christ, he’d wanted to protect Olivia, and he’d let some bastard sucker him into charging off to a bogus meeting without confirming who was texting him. But the messages had come from Shane’s phone, for Christ’s sake. And Max had been all too willing to believe there was something shady in Olivia’s background that would be a major factor in the case.

  Clenching the wheel in a death grip, he sped back the way he’d come. Interspersed with the curses were prayers that he wouldn’t be too late.

  ***

  Olivia stared in frozen horror at the woman who had just cut off their only means of communication, because she and Max had come to the house on short notice and hadn’t bothered to contact the phone company about reinstating the hardwired service. They hadn’t seen the need for it, and it probably would have taken days to get it hooked up, anyway.

  “We have to get away,” she said to Claire, glancing out the window toward the car she’d left in the parking area out front.

  Claire shook her head. “No. It’s too dangerous. He said to stay here.”

  Bad news, Olivia thought. The guy who’d sent her former classmate rushing over here wanted the two of them in the house together.

 

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