Still, he couldn’t deny he liked the feel of her in his arms, liked the sweet scent of her perfume. Liked it too much. Damn it, he couldn’t resist kissing her. Not the passionate kiss he wanted to give her — that would have to wait. What the hell was he thinking that would have to wait? Have to wait for what?
He shook his head and rubbed his face where her hand made contact. Gutsy, he’d give her that. He had no idea why he made her so angry. Seemed he had a knack for it. Hell, he only meant to tease her. Too sensitive, that was her problem. But he liked the feel of her in his arms, liked the taste of her lips. And she hadn’t resisted the kiss.
He knew better than to give into his desires. Maybe when the case was over. Right now, she was off limits. He should have left after that kiss. But what did a cup of coffee hurt? Okay, so he stayed and drank a whole pot. So what? The thought of going home to an empty house didn’t exactly excite him. Susan excited him.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Susan rushed to get dressed for another boring assignment — a story about the Science and Technology Center at the local college.
Darn, she was late again. One of these days she was going to get her act together and actually arrive on time.
A single red rose fell at her feet when she opened the door. Looking up and down the hall, she didn’t see anyone. A shudder raced through her body as she held the wilted rose and then tossed it into her apartment. Definitely not the way she wanted to start the day.
She turned on the car radio just in time to hear a news bulletin.
“The police have a breakthrough on the nursery rhyme murders,” the newscaster said.
Susan turned up the volume.
“John Matteo, a former neighbor of George Lucas and Jack Murphy, has been taken into custody. Witnesses placed a man matching his description near the scene. A taxi driver said he picked up a man fitting Matteo’s description near the Lagoon Lakes shortly before police arrived. He’s being held for questioning.”
“Yes!” Susan slammed her fist against the steering wheel. “Finally, they got him.”
Yet, something niggled at her. What if he wasn’t the man? All the evidence put him at the scene, but witnesses had been wrong before, and descriptions were vague at best. Probably fit half the men in Ohio. Still, they finally had someone in custody.
In a much better mood, she hurried to meet Gloria, knowing the photographer would amuse and stall until she arrived. Most of the males preferred being with Gloria, anyway.
The pretty, red-haired photographer, who stood only about four-foot-eleven and weighed no more than a hundred pounds, charmed everyone. Her fair complexion, with a few freckles, and her big, chestnut colored brown eyes gave her the appearance of a life-sized doll. Lively and outgoing, Gloria had a great sense of humor and got along well with both men and women. Susan liked working with her.
She raced into the science center and looked for David Buckson, the head of the Science Department, and Angelo Hewing, the Project Architect.
To her surprise, Ray Logan greeted her. “Gloria took a different assignment at the last minute.”
Mr. Buckson and Mr. Hewing frowned and looked at their watches.
She extended her hand when Ray introduced them. “I’m sorry I’m late, got stuck in traffic.” She put on her brightest smile, to no avail. Mr.Buckson folded his arms across his chest, while Mr. Hewing tapped his foot and clenched his jaw. Throwing Ray, a bail-me-out, look accomplished nothing. He just shrugged and seemed to enjoy her discomfort.
Since Ray had already taken most of his picture, she took out her tape recorder and proceeded with the interview, thankful she had done her homework.
After the interview, she smiled and thanked both men for taking the time to meet with her. Fortunately, she had managed to set them at ease, and they had gotten over their anger at her tardiness. Probably because she told them how impressed she was with the center, especially the environmentally friendly features.
She said goodbye, relieved the interview had ended. Ray’s deep, exaggerated sigh as they left the building told her he understood.
“How about lunch?” he asked. “Looks like you could use a good cup of coffee to calm you down.”
“A cup of coffee sounds heavenly. I missed mine this morning and have been running on pure adrenaline.”
“So tell me about those phone calls. How did it feel to know you were talking to the killer?” Ray asked.
“Well, the first one I thought was a crank. I mean, reporters get them all the time.” She didn’t mention Dave — that was too personal. Why was Ray so curious?
Now she was being paranoid,
Still, she didn’t want to talk about the case and tried to change the subject, but Ray kept bringing it up. Apparently the reason he asked her to lunch was to probe for information. The more she tried to change the subject, the more he went back to it. About midway through lunch, she looked at her watched, gulped her second cup of coffee, and jumped up.
“I’m sorry. I completely forgot I have a hair appointment.” Without waiting for a reply, she threw enough money on the table to cover her share of the lunch and ran out of the restaurant.
“Hey, you don’t have to do that,” Ray yelled.
Reluctant to go home, she drove toward Lake Erie. Water usually calmed her. She liked the peace and serenity of watching the boats with their sails puffed out.
Gazing out at the water, she wondered again who had left the flowers. If this was someone’s idea of a joke or a secret admirer, she didn’t find it amusing. In fact, it downright scared her. Not to mention annoyed her. If someone wanted to give her flowers, he should do it in person, not sneak around. She racked her brain, thinking of every male she knew, but none fit the bill of having even the slightest crush on her.
Feeling calmer, she decided to go to the office and write her story there. At least she’d be among people.
She bumped into Gloria at the entrance of the building. “Hey, I missed you this morning,” Susan said. “Did you get an exciting assignment?”
“What do you mean an exciting assignment?” Gloria looked puzzled.
“Ray said you went on a more exciting assignment and traded with him.”
“Oh, really?” Gloria looked surprised. “Ray said watching them build the Science Center fascinated him and asked me to trade. One story is as good as another, so I switched. I did a follow-up on the cornfield flood. Not very exciting. Have to run, see you later.” Gloria hurried down the steps before Susan could reply.
Why did Ray really switch? She pushed the thought aside, went inside, settled herself at a computer, pulled out her tape player and began work on the Science Center story.
Science Center Unveiled
The new Science Center will open to classes this fall. Students and faculty designed the 250,000 square foot building at a cost of more than 80 million dollars. The new center features large classrooms, a laboratory, and a research center.
The center for—
The phone interrupted her typing. “Hello.”
“Susan,” the voice said, “tonight.” Then the line went dead.
Her knuckles turned white on the receiver. She held her breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and a moan escaped her throat. Nausea welled up in her throat. The roam spun.
Ernie ran over to her. “Susan, are you okay? What happened? Quick, someone get me some water.” Ernie pushed her against the back of the chair, smoothed her hair away from her face, grabbed a sheet of paper off the desk, and fanned her.
Someone brought water. She didn’t know who. It didn’t matter.
There was going to be another murder. She couldn’t stop it. The police couldn’t stop it. They had the wrong man in custody. She had to call Dave. Her face burned in embarrassment as a crowd gathered.
She brushed them off. “I, uh, I’m okay, just a dizzy spell.” She couldn’t’ let them know. She needed to get out of there. Needed to call Dave.
Ernie dismissed everyone. “Excite
ment’s over folks.”
“Thanks, Ernie,” she mumbled.
“What really happened?”
She heard the concern in his voice, saw it in his eyes.
“You got a phone call. It was from him, wasn’t it?”
Fighting for control, Susan shook her head and tried to act professional, nonchalant. .She didn’t want Ernie to see the effect this had on her. He would take her off this story, for sure. But he had witnessed her reaction firsthand.
She had to take control, had to deal with it. She took a deep breath.
“Hey, it’s okay, kid. Anyone would react the same way.” He stroked her arm, comforting her, smiled, and offered encouragement. “Come on. Relax. Tell me about it. What did he say?”
She stared at him. He understood. Ernie, the hard-nosed editor. This bald-headed, chubby little man with his gruff manners really looked concerned. He understood.
“Nnnothing.” Fear tore through her. “Just one word, tonight. I have to call the police, tell them...”
“Give yourself a minute,” Ernie said. “Compose yourself, calm down. Here, drink some more water.”
This was a side of Ernie she had never seen, didn’t know. He gruffly passed out the assignments, only occasionally offering encouragement, and not offering much hope of a decent assignment. She felt invisible most of the time. Under his rough exterior was a warm human being.
“You’re off this assignment permanently. If you hear about another murder, stay home. Hill’s on it. You don’t need this kind of hassle. It’s too dangerous.”
Susan’s eyes blurred with tears. She forced back anger at showing such weakness. Her usual calm reserve had disintegrated ever since that first phone call. “You can’t, this is my story. I’m his contact,” she insisted. “I’m okay, honest. It just threw me for a minute.”
Ernie shook his head. “I don’t know, Susan, I don’t like you in this position. What if he turns on you? Let Hill write the next story, we’ll see what happens.”
Arguing with him proved useless, but if Hill didn’t get to the next crime scene, she was doing the story, no matter what.
“Hill’s name goes on the next story, no matter who writes it.” Ernie continued, as if he read her mind.
“That’s not fair,” she protested, but Ernie held up his hand, palm out.
“I know it’s not fair, but let’s just see if he makes contact with someone else if their name is on the byline.” Ernie started to walk away, stopped, and came back. “By the way, Hill’s going to interview you about those phone calls.” He left, not giving her a chance to answer.
She stood up, leaving her story unfinished. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
She raced to the washroom and chewed herself out for acting like a silly school girl. Throwing cold water on her face helped compose her. She took a couple more deep breaths. She had to finish the science story and call Dave.
Ernie would do what he wanted. No one could change his mind, and acting like a weak, frail woman, who cried about everything, wouldn’t help the situation. Not that it mattered. If he really thought she’d stay away from the crime scenes, he had another thought coming. No way was she ignoring this case. Dan Hill could pound salt for all she cared.
Not going to let Hill to interview her either. She shook her head and looked around the large office. Her colleagues lowered their heads when her gaze met theirs.
It could be one of them.
She didn’t know most of them other than to say hello, couldn’t even remember most of their names. They had permanent jobs on the paper, staff writers.
She called Dave. He didn’t want her to go home.
“What does it matter?” she asked. “He seems to know where I am, anyway.” She couldn’t stay away from her apartment. Bella and her clothes were there. Her life centered there. No, she wouldn’t stay away.
“He doesn’t appear to be after me, anyway,” she argued with Dave. “That’s my home, and I’m not going to allow him to change my lifestyle — then he wins.” Her old stubbornness returned.
Dave gave in after lecturing her about keeping the shades drawn, the doors locked, and not letting anyone in but him. He’d meet her there later.
“And, Susan,” he said, “remember be observant, be careful.”
A warm sensation filled her insides. He really acted like he cared about her. Determined not to let the killer affect her daily life, she went out to her car, only to find another rose on the dashboard. She had forgotten to lock the car. She looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Tossing the rose out the window, she tried to shake off the feeling of gloom and fear.
Her thoughts turned to Dave instead. Just thinking of him kindled a feeling of contentment and security, not to mention the sexual appeal. She couldn’t help the attraction. Even though she didn’t want a man in her life, she enjoyed the attention and his company. And lord, when he kissed her…talk about intoxicating.
She entered her apartment, whistling, and feeling like a giddy teenager. Dave was coming to see her, and he had admitted his attraction to her when he took her in his arms last night.
That surprised her. He didn’t appear to be the type to give in to spontaneity. It seemed out of character for him, but she had recognized his desire. He had acted strictly on impulse. Of course, then his logical side took over, and he pulled away.
She hadn’t known this feeling with many men. Most of them shied away from her because of her obsession with her career. That had been fine with her. She wanted a career, not marriage and kids, but Dave was different. He seemed to understand her need, her longing to become a successful reporter.
Since they had both been eating fast food the last couple of days, Susan decided to fix him dinner. He’d probably appreciate a good pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and a salad on the side.
Surprisingly, her answering machine wasn’t blinking. No messages. She relaxed and busied herself in the kitchen and made a chocolate angel food cake, topped with triple chocolate glaze, for dessert. The opportunity to cook didn’t often present itself, and she took full advantage of it.
She loved to cook and even pulled out her best china. This was a special occasion. Why? She wasn’t sure, but she felt it in her bones.
Susan liked to listen to the news while she cooked, so the television played softly in the background.
“John Matteo has been released for lack of evidence. Witnesses were unable to pick him out of a line-up, police sources said.”
Susan hurried into the living room, where a film of Matteo leaving the police station next to a man, probably his lawyer, played on the screen. Since the killer had called while Matteo was in custody, she knew he wasn’t their man. Of course, the police weren’t letting that news out.
Changing the station to a home and garden channel, she remembered her sister’s earlier call, picked up the phone, and dialed her number.
Clare’s voice quivered when she answered. Something was terribly wrong. This didn’t sound like Clare, her happy-go-lucky sister.
Clare’s explanation astonished Susan. Little Miss Perfect had given in to a whim and had an affair. “I almost couldn’t tell you, Susan,” Clare said, her voice guilt-ridden.
“I’m so embarrassed.” She went on to explain how lonely she was. “Not that it’s an excuse, mind you, but Steve and I have been distant lately, and he’s on the road so much. If he finds out, he’ll leave me. I just don’t know what to do,” Clare sobbed. “I couldn’t tell Mom or Kate, but I had to talk to someone.”
“What...” Susan tried to ask a question. She found it difficult to believe. Clare, an affair? Sweet, perfect Clare? All Clare had ever wanted was to get married and have a family.
Susan hadn’t known Clare all that well in their younger years. Four years separated them in age. Clare had gotten her degree in accounting, but had never worked.
While Clare rambled, Susan thought about Dave, and wondered what it would be like to be married to him. Not that she was looking for marriage-that
was the farthest thing from her mind. Where that thought came from, she’d never know.
Seemed as if her hormones were running rampant. The man turned her on, that much was for sure. Every time she thought about him, she wanted him more. Okay, so she didn’t have to act on it.
Clare’s sobs interrupted Susan’s thoughts, and she turned her attention back to the conversation. Not that she could get a word in edgewise. Clare didn’t want advice. Apparently, her sister just needed someone to listen.
Susan remembered her surprise a couple of weeks ago when Clare told everyone she had taken a job as an accountant. Thinking back, Susan remembered the discontent Clare had expressed.
Susan had never understood how fun-loving Clare had been content not working. But she had seemed happy being homemaker, wife, and mother. The PTA and volunteering more than satisfied her need to socialize. Not Susan’s cup of tea, but to each his own.
What could she say to her sister? She didn’t have any experience in these things. Heck she didn’t even have any experience in a relationship, serious or otherwise. Dave was the closest thing to a boyfriend she ever had. The unexpected news of the fling confused her. Especially since Clare said it was the main reason she had looked for a job. Clare had kept it a secret a long time. Now lunch the other day made sense.
“You did what?” Susan couldn’t help it. What the heck was her sister thinking?
“Look, Susan, I didn’t call to have you criticize me. I called for your help. Why do you always have to be so critical?”
“Me, critical?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Excuse me, Miss Perfect...”
Clare didn’t let Susan finish. “I guess I was wrong. I shouldn’t have called you. I expected more sympathy. I’m gonna go—”
“Clare, wait. I’m sorry. You’re right. I was being critical. But darn, girl, what were you thinking?” Susan tried to smooth things over. “You have everything you ever dreamed of — a husband, kids, a beautiful home.”
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