Sam closed her eyes, amazed to feel ashamed. “She’s my friend,” she said. “And yes, I have imagined her life.”
“She loved you, you know,” he told her.
“My God, stop! Stop talking about her as if she’s gone—”
“She is gone.”
Sam moistened her lips. “I can’t believe it, I won’t believe it. She’s out there somewhere, and she needs help.”
Leave it alone, the voice had said.
Why? Could Marnie be found? Or was she dead already and what the voice warned was that Sam would wind up that way, too?
Rowan walked back to her, dark hair tousled over his forehead, a vein pulsing in his throat. He paused at her side, fingers winding into a fist, unwinding. “Sam, leave it alone.”
Leave it alone, the voice had said.
She lifted her hands. “What can I really do?”
“The police are on it, and believe it or not, they know what they’re doing.”
She shook her head, hugging her knees more tightly. “Do you know how many murders there are in this city every year? Dozens. And people disappear all the time. And it’s not that I believe the police are incompetent, I don’t. I know that most of them work very hard, it’s just…” She paused and looked at him. “It’s just that they do have dozens of murders to solve, and there are no clues, Marnie is just gone—”
“There are clues. There are always clues. Give them a chance.” It was his turn to hesitate. “If not the police, give me a chance. I won’t let anyone forget that she’s missing. Until she’s found.”
“Dead or alive, right?” she asked bitterly.
“Dead or alive.”
They were both silent for a while.
“Am I allowed back in there?” he asked after a moment.
“What if I were to say no?”
“Well, I’d probably be rude and forceful at the moment. Long day, I’m tired and somewhat irritable.”
“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you.”
“I’ll take that as a wonderfully passionate invitation.” He lifted the sheets and slid in beside her. His arms came out, strong, warm, powerful. She braced instinctively, hating her own defensiveness.
“Sam!” he murmured.
She eased against him. Then sighed, turned, and curled against his chest.
“That’s better,” he murmured, soothing back her hair. “I was beginning to wonder where we could go from here.”
“We have to find Marnie before we go anywhere.”
“We will find Marnie.” He sounded as if he believed his determination.
“But then, of course…”
“But then?”
“Well, what if Marnie wants you back?”
He lifted her from his chest, forced her back on the pillows, and crawled over her. Hazel eyes bright and sharp as gold, he stared at her. “You want it all dragged out, right? Described in minute detail? All right. I had no idea you lived here when I bought this house. I wound up being with Marnie, talking. We had some drinks. We started really talking. She told me about growing up. I told her about watching people die. I listened to her horror tales about sexual abuse. She listened to my guilt about my inability to ever really help anyone I loved. We wound up comforting each other with a little bit too much alcohol in our veins. Which wasn’t really so terrible, just in itself. We’re both of age, single, and sure as hell a bit braised and battered by the things gone by in life.”
Something about his emotion touched her deeply. As involved as they had just become, as much as the past had hurt her, she realized that she had trodden where she hadn’t really had a right to go, and she felt painfully intrusive now. “Don’t!” Sam said. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. Because that was when I found out about you. That you were here, right next door. That you were my neighbor, and I would see you again. And I barely knew Marnie was there anymore, I just up and withered like a tree in winter, and we got into quite an argument— with Marnie telling me I was useless, which I was, at that moment, to Marnie. So, you see, I sincerely doubt that Marnie has any interest in me. Are you happy now?”
“I—no, of course not, I really didn’t mean to pry—”
“Bull!”
She tried to twist beneath him; he would have none of it, firmly flipping her back over again and pinning her down this time, his face close to hers.
“Anything else you want to know?”
“No, damn you, leave me alone, stop it—”
He kissed her. Legs splayed against hers, the pressure of his hips and chest on her, the coarse texture of his body hair a tease against the softness of her flesh. His tongue roughly invaded and aroused, his hands held her wrists prisoners still, and the force of his body was intoxicating. He lifted his lips from hers. “I ask again—anything else you want to know?”
She moistened her lips, smiling. “You really withered? With Marnie? Because of me?”
“Cross my heart,” he said solemnly.
“You’re not withered now.”
“I know. Because of you. See what power you have?”
Her smiled deepened. “I really have all that power?”
“You do. Want to see?”
Later, she lay there with him.
The bulk of his body was a stalwart warmth against her; his arm, around her, was a feeling of comfort she had barely dared remember. His breath whispered against her neck, and she thought that he slept.
This… this was so wonderful. There was nothing so special in the world, she thought, as this feeling of being so… so…
She wasn’t exactly sure what the feeling was. Sex itself was great. Wonderful. Marnie could assure the world of that. But there was more, and no matter how many men Marnie had, Sam had the feeling that she had never really known what it was like to feel more. This was the more. A feeling of being cherished, secure, protected—without feeling in the least diminished for all that protective care. Maybe that was one of the qualities that had drawn her to Rowan from the very beginning. He had never needed to be adored, or even admired. He loved his music, he loved to play. But he loved music in general, loved to see and applaud other musicians. He had encouraged her. He had loved to hear her play, to play with her. He had told her that she could definitely make a living with her drumming—girl drummers, especially good ones, were in high demand. She’d told him about her father, about how he loved his drumming but loved teaching more.
There had been so much between them.
Then the headlines.
Dina Dillon had been reported missing. Rowan had been surly with the police, telling them that they’d been separated a long time. He’d been hauled down to jail.
He had tried to protect her, but he had gone back with his wife. Yet she had a feeling that he had told her the truth. He had thought that he could save Dina. Still, could they change all the pain that had come before with a night’s lovemaking?
No.
Sex was good, sex was great. But there was more.
And maybe it was the more that would eventually heal them. And it was the more that Marnie had never known. Maybe the possibility of ever having the more had been stolen from Marnie when she was a child.
Sam set her fingers over Rowan’s hand where it rested on her flesh. She tightened them.
She closed her eyes. There were no guarantees in life. Marnie had disappeared. She feared for her friend more every day.
A husky, menacing voice had whispered threats. I can see you, I can see you… watching you… I can see… So much out there was frightening.
Chilling.
And yet, tonight, she was warmed.
And for the night, the warmth was good.
Chapter 14
Come the morning, Rowan was gone.
He had, however, left her a note. “Thanks for a wonderful evening. Coffee is on downstairs. Alarm back on—I’m getting ready to head off to the jungles with Teddy. Talk to you tonight? Rowan.”
She
read the note, held it, curled it into a ball in her hand. The words were easy, casual, comfortable. She had missed him in her life so very much.
And yet…
It had been too easy, and too fast. Circumstances. People slept with people all the time. On the first date. It was a liberated world they were living in. But she didn’t let people into her intimate world often. She had never fallen out of love with him, and that was what meant so much, because it was the emotion that ripped people to shreds, and she didn’t dare take the risk again too quickly. She had to be so careful of involvement.
Right. As if she hadn’t involved herself right up to the neck last night.
She needed to slow things down.
She showered and dressed, then went downstairs for coffee. She was glad last night that Rowan had pulled the draperies. She had been afraid, unnerved by the phone call, and desperately glad of the privacy. Not to mention all that it had afforded them. But by day she wanted the sun coming back in, and she wasn’t nearly as frightened as she had been.
With the drapes pulled back, the sun warm on the window glass, and a spectacular view of the sparkling bay hers once again, she poured herself a cup of coffee, surveyed the beautiful day for a moment, then went back upstairs to her bedroom to finish getting ready. Setting her coffee on the dressing table, she told herself she was just going to put on a little makeup before Teddy arrived.
She wasn’t going to go over and stare at Marnie’s house. She had done that enough.
But it didn’t matter. As she did every morning, and every night, she went to the window, and she stared out. The house remained still and silent, keeping its secrets. Yet even as she sipped her coffee, watching, she saw someone going up the steps.
Her heart quickened. She heard a knocking at the door, then someone calling Marnie’s name. Not certain who it was, she set her coffee cup down and ran the stairs two at a time before bursting out on her lawn and racing over to Marnie’s.
No one remained at the door. She spun around. Nor did she see a car anywhere. Had the visitor come by boat?
A creepy feeling assailed her as she looked around. There was a gentle breeze; trees rustled and bent, and there seemed to be a whisper through the foliage.
I can see you!
For a moment, she felt a repeat of the chills that had danced along her spine. She gave herself a shake. It was broad daylight.
But no one was around on the little peninsula. No one. Her house was empty.
She hoped. She had run out the front door to see who was looking for Marnie, and she’d left her own door open.
For God’s sake! she chastised herself. She could still see her front door! Yes, but she had turned her back on it, hadn’t she?
No one could have snuck in that quickly, she told herself. And there wasn’t a single car around.
And besides, it was a Thursday. Early. Teddy might not have come for Rowan yet; he might still be in his house, and if not, Adelia had probably come in for the day.
She wasn’t really alone.
And still she felt that icy sensation.
I can see you…
Angry, she gave herself a shake. Someone had come here, calling out Marnie’s name. Loudly. There had been nothing furtive about it.
She squared her shoulders and walked around the house. “Hello? Can I help you? Who’s there?”
No answer.
She came around to Marnie’s beautifully manicured backyard. The breeze skimmed over the crystal water of the pool. Crotons and hibiscus continued to whisper softly. Out on the bay, the blue-green sea rippled and shimmered.
I can see you…
She groaned softly to herself. No one was here. And yet the very bushes and trees seemed to have eyes. They watched her.
It's broad daylight, she told herself.
“Hey! Is anybody here? Can I help you?”
No answer.
She realized that she still felt the icicles. She didn’t want to go back into her own house. She was afraid.
She gritted her teeth. She had to go back into her own house. It was the only way to get her purse and keys, take her car out of the garage, and head on in to work. “Marnie,” she murmured, “if you are just off on some kind of joyride, I’m going to beat you black and blue!”
She started around the foliage to reach her house, wishing she could shake the feeling that the bushes were watching her. She began to quicken her pace, walking faster.
Faster.
Then she was running.
She came around the huge crotons that separated her yard from Marnie’s in a full-blown panic. Her hair flew into her face.
And she plowed right into someone.
Her momentum was so great that she started to fall. Hands reached out for her. She screamed, fighting, slamming her fists in a crazed fury. The grip on her loosened; she fell, dragging down the body she had encountered.
“Sam, Sam, Sam!”
He landed halfway on top of her, groaning and letting out a slight woof of pain as he twisted and fell hard to avoid crushing her with his weight.
She blinked; he was trying to move the tendrils of hair from her eyes.
She looked up. Rowan. A slight smile curving his lips, a slightly concerned look in his glittering gold eyes.
“Rowan!” she whispered. Then she pounded his chest with her knotted fists. “Damn it! You scared me to death.”
“I scared you to death? You just slammed into me.”
‘What are you doing in the bushes?”
“I just came from your house.”
She frowned. “Why were you at my house?”
“Well, I had been looking for you. Then I heard you calling out, and I came around to see what you were doing.”
He rose, offering her a hand, pulling her to her feet. She accepted his assistance, dusting croton leaves off her knit pants as she did so.
“You didn’t see who was at Marnie’s?” she asked.
“Someone was at Marnie’s?”
“I heard someone at Marnie’s door, calling out to her. If you were on your way to my house, you must have heard him. Or her. No, I’m pretty sure it was a him.”
“Sam, I didn’t see anyone.”
“You must have!”
“But I didn’t. I heard you, I came around here, you flew into me.”
He was frowning, concerned, she thought. Because there might have been someone in Marnie’s yard, or because she might be losing her mind?
She stared at him, then threw up her hands. “There is someone here! And why would he suddenly be hiding? He was calling out—loudly. And we were both around. I mean, no one could have assumed that neither you nor I would hear him calling.”
“And if he was calling, trying to find Marnie, he’s probably not someone who had anything to do with her disappearance.”
“But he’s just disappeared!” she exclaimed with frustration. Then she said softly, “My house!”
“What?” he asked, his frown deepening.
“I left my door open—”
“You what?”
It was said with reproach. Definite male “you idiot female” reproach.
“Hey! That’s not an appropriate tone! All I did was run out of the house—” she began, but he had already turned and was hurrying toward the front door of her house. “Rowan, wait a minute! If someone is in there, someone dangerous… maybe we should just wait for Teddy.”
He had already reached the house. He opened the door and stepped in.
Sam followed close behind him.
Loretta liked to get to work early. It didn’t matter if she’d had class—or even her other, highly lucrative work—the night before. She was a go-getter, and a lucky woman. She didn’t need much sleep.
And now, with Marnie missing…
She made coffee, just as she always did.
And she put a cup of steaming black coffee on Marnie’s desk, just as she always did. Maybe it was silly. But she kept hoping, every day, that Marnie would reapp
ear.
She didn’t put coffee on Kevin Madigan’s desk. Kevin had to have his hot. And he complained when it wasn’t. Not that she really cared, but she hated being yelled at in front of other people.
She thought with a smirk that Kevin had better get his tight, handsome, little buns in to work—Lee Chapman was coming in again this morning. He was growing very impatient with Marnie’s disappearance, and he was threatening to look for a lawyer elsewhere. He claimed he was innocent, of course. And he could afford to pay for the best possible attorneys to prove it.
Loretta always brought coffee to Mr. Daly as well. He had his own private secretaries—assistants, as they called themselves—but he liked her coffee. And she liked Mr. Daly. He could be a cantankerous old goat, but he was usually an honest and a just one.
But Mr. Daly hadn’t come in yet, either.
Sitting at her desk again, Loretta shook her head worriedly. What was happening here? People just didn’t show up where and when they were supposed to anymore.
The phone rang and she picked it up quickly, answering in her most professional voice. Naturally, her voice was recognized.
“Are you available to party Friday night?”
It was the man who liked to be called “the arranger.” He “arranged” entertainment. He sounded strange, though. And he didn’t usually call her here. Of course, he never left a message on a machine. “Friday. Um, yes.”
“You’re a definite?” The voice was sharp.
“Yes,” she said more firmly.
“All right, make sure you’re there. Don’t ever make a fool of me. I’ve called your young friend for a job as well. Two important parties this Friday. She’d better show, or you’re in trouble, too.”
Her young friend? Oh, yes, of course. Lacey.
“My friend will show.”
“She’d better. And by the way, there were interesting guests at the club the other night.”
“Interesting guests?” she echoed.
“Watch your mouth, Loretta. You talk too much.”
Tall, Dark, and Deadly Page 20
