Usually, she simply ignored that, but—for what-ever reason—it really irked her tonight.
“Actually,” she said cooly, “I’m not giving him information. I’m working on the investigation with him.”
“Get outta here! You’re not serious.”
“Yes. I am.”
Brian muttered something she didn’t catch, then said, “You know, when we met, I thought you were this great, uncomplicated woman who really had it together. But for the last couple of months…And now what? You’ve decided to play V. I. War-shawski?
“Beth, maybe you can’t see it from the inside looking out, but you haven’t exactly been the easiest person to get along with lately. Have you been trying to give me a message, or what?’’
“No, I haven’t.” She glanced uneasily at Cole, not wanting to get dragged into a conversation like this with him sitting there listening.
“No? Well it’s sure been seeming that way to me. Every time we talk about moving in together, I end up thinking it’s never going to happen. And for the past hour I’ve been sitting here in this hotel room by myself, thinking about that and…And I think maybe it’s decision time. Here and now.”
She took a deep, slow breath, not sure if she was making the decision right this moment or if she’d subconsciously made it earlier.
“I still don’t feel ready,” she said at last. As she spoke, she waited for the dreadful pain that was sure to come.
It didn’t. She felt shaky, strangely hollow inside, and not far from tears, but there was no intolerable, overwhelming pain of loss.
After a long silence, Brian slowly said, “Okay, I guess I’m not really surprised. So let’s not see each other for a while, okay?”
The hollow feeling began to grow, and the silence lengthened while she tried to think of what else she should say.
It seemed they’d said too little for people who’d been seeing each other for months, and she couldn’t help wondering if she’d come to regret this. But she couldn’t think of anything more to say right now.
Finally, Brian cleared his throat and said, “Before we hang up, will you be talking to your father in the next day or two?”
“My father?”
“Yeah, I called him the other day and suggested a round of golf on the weekend. He seemed to enjoy playing last month.”
“Aah…right, he did,” she lied. The first time Brian had invited him, her father had only gone out of politeness. And she knew he hadn’t enjoyed himself.
“Well, if you’re talking to him, mention that something’s come up and I won’t be able to make it, okay?”
“All right. I will.”
“And…take care of yourself.”
“You, too,” she said, still not quite able to believe they were both managing to be so civil and unemotional. Did that mean whatever there’d been between them had gradually faded away without them noticing?
She wondered about that for a few seconds, then realized something else was nagging at her. She wasn’t sure what it was, but just as Brian was saying goodbye, her mind zoomed in on it.
For a frozen second, she couldn’t make herself speak. Then she said, “Wait. Wait, there’s something I have to ask you. When you were golfing with my father last month, did you happen to mention that I was trying to make myself remember Larisa’s murder?”
Cole sat up straighter in his chair.
Bogey meowed a complaint about being disturbed.
Beth held her breath, waiting for Brian’s reply.
Chapter Ten
Slowly, Beth put down the cordless and looked at Cole. He’d moved over to the couch, and he was sitting close enough that she could smell the woodsy scent of his aftershave and see the concern in his eyes.
“Your father knew,” he said quietly.
She nodded. “For the past month. Brian just assumed I’d mentioned it to him, and made some re-mark about wishing Mark and I would leave well enough alone. Then, when my father didn’t know what he was talking about, he had to explain.
“But when I told my father I’d started to remember…’’
“He acted as if it was the first he was hearing about any of it.”
“Why?” she whispered, staring down at the couch and telling herself there must be several possible answers—and that, among them, there was at least one that wouldn’t make her father appear even more guilty.
“Beth? Let’s stop talking about it for a bit, okay? You just finished one hell of a conversation. And, look, I’m sorry you didn’t have privacy for it. I’d have gone for a walk or something if I’d realized what was coming.”
She shrugged unhappily.
“Is there anything I can do? Or do you want to talk about it?”
“No, it…It’s been coming for a while, I guess. He’s been trying to convince me to live with him and I just didn’t feel right about it and…Well, it doesn’t matter.”
Cole rubbed his jaw, eyeing her intently.
“What?” she finally said.
“How was he trying to convince you?”
She shrugged again. “He just kept bringing it up. Telling me it was a good idea. That he hated the thought of me waking up to the nightmares alone. That a woman shouldn’t be living on her own in a neighborhood like this.”
“You don’t think…Look, is there any chance he’s been your crank caller? Trying to make you afraid to be on your own?”
That thought was enough to send a shiver through her. But it couldn’t have been him. “No. He’s basically a nice guy.”
“Even nice guys can do some pretty crazy things when it comes to women. Have you ever had one of the calls while he’s been here?”
“No,” she said uneasily. “But I just can’t believe…”
“Okay. I guess I shouldn’t even be asking about it right now. Sometimes, I have the world’s worst sense of timing. So, look, why don’t you just try to relax. Try to make your mind go blank and give yourself a time-out.”
When she met his gaze, he looked as if he cared very much about her well-being—far more than he realistically could, considering how briefly they’d known each other.
It made her feel like crying because, absurd as it might be, she wanted him to care that much.
“Oh, Cole,’’ she murmured. “Everything is just so awful right now.’’
For a fraction of a second more, he simply looked at her. Then he draped his arms around her and pulled her to him.
Closing her eyes, she snuggled against him, feeling as if she’d found a safe haven in a storm. The solid warmth of his body was comforting, the steady thudding of his heart was reassuring.
She loved the way being close to him made her feel. Loved his gentle touch, his scent, his warmth, and the lean hardness of his body against hers.
As he stroked her hair, his body heat gradually began spreading through her—slow and sweet as spilled honey—and an ache of desire started low in her belly.
That told her she’d done exactly what she should have as far as Brian was concerned. She might have been a little slow at being certain of it, but he couldn’t possibly have been the right man for her. Not when she could feel this way in another man’s arms.
“You okay?” Cole whispered against her hair.
She looked at him—her gaze drifting over the square line of his jaw, lingering on his broad, sensual mouth, moving on to those little laugh lines, finally coming to rest when it reached the hazel warmth of his eyes.
“Not exactly,” she murmured. “As my mother would say, I’m feeling a little fragile.”
He slowly smoothed his thumb across her cheek, then trailed his fingers down her neck, sending little shivers of delight through her.
“I’d never want to take advantage of anyone’s fragility,” he said softly. “Especially not yours.”
His breath was a warm, whispering breeze against her skin. His mouth was mere inches from hers. His eyes were saying he wouldn ‘t take advantage of her, that the next move was hers.
But that slow, spilled-honey feeling inside her kept growing warmer, and the longer she looked at him the harder it became to resist him—and the less desire she had to.
Finally, she leaned forward those mere inches, cradled his head in her hands and parted her lips to his.
He tasted her and she tasted back, slowly and lazily at first, then more and more hungrily, until the heat curling through her veins began to sizzle and that ache of desire was almost too strong to bear.
They kissed until it was too much and not enough, until finally, breathlessly, she forced her lips from his and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“Somehow,” she whispered, gazing at him, “I don’t think that’s in your job description.”
When he smiled, it lit up his face. She’d noticed long ago how engaging his smile was. But she hadn’t realized until now that it was positively the nicest one she’d ever seen.
“It’s worse than just not being part of my job description,” he said. “I’ve got a rule about not mixing business with pleasure.”
“Oh? And you never break the rules?”
“Only under very unusual circumstances.”
“Like…?”
“Like when I come across a lady who’s downright irresistible.”
“And does that happen very often?”
He smiled again, slowly shaking his head. “First time ever.”
His words made her feel flushed and…giddy. Such an old-fashioned word, yet it perfectly described the way she was feelings—as if there were so many champagne bubbles inside her that they were about to start spilling out in a fit of giggles.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Definitely,” she told him. “Maybe even good enough to talk about my father.”
“I’ve got another idea, if you’re up to it.”
“What’s that?”
“Talk to him.”
COLE SANK DOWN BESIDE Beth, every nerve ending in his body aware that they were sitting on the edge of her bed. Then she slid the bedside phone closer to her, and he reminded himself they were only in the bedroom so they’d have both that phone and the cordless.
But he could easily picture them here for an entirely different reason. And just thinking about it was making him hard with arousal.
He could still taste the sweetness of her kisses, could still feel the softness of her body. And it was awfully difficult not to imagine himself making love with her. But no matter what, he wasn’t going to make a serious move on her tonight.
In the space of mere minutes, she’d broken up with her boyfriend and learned her father had lied to her. And even if it was merely a lie of omission, it was another nail in the coffin of his guilt. So coming on to her tonight…
Hell, he’d spend until morning in a cold shower before he’d let himself do that.
“This just doesn’t seem right,” she said, reaching to pick up the receiver, then hesitating. “Somehow, my telling you what he said afterward wouldn’t be as bad as your listening in. That’s downright spying.’’
“Anyone ever tell you you’ve got an overdeveloped sense of fair play?”
When that didn’t make her smile, he took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Considering the state she was in, he didn’t want to push her any harder than he had to. But if her father had known all along that she was trying to make that memory surface, then the idea of his driving around with coveralls and a gorilla mask in his trunk—just waiting for his chance—wasn’t at all far-fetched.
“Hey, I’m the pro here, remember,” he coaxed. “And I need to know exactly what he says and how he says it.”
Not looking the least bit happier, she punched in the number. When she nodded that it was ringing, Cole clicked on the cordless and put it to his ear.
After the third ring, Glen Gregory picked up.
Cole took Beth’s hand again, hoping to hell she could manage this.
“It’s me, Dad,” she said, keeping her eyes on Cole and sounding only a little nervous.
He nodded, shooting her one of the “reassuring” looks they’d taught him at cop school.
“Well, hi,’’ Gregory said.
“I…was just talking to Brian and he asked me to phone you for him.”
“Oh?” Gregory’s tone cooled a degree or two—not surprising when Beth had mentioned that Brian wasn’t one of his favorite people.
“He had to go to Vancouver on business, and he’s not sure he’ll be back for the weekend. So he wanted me to tell you, because you had a golf date or something?”
Cole gave her an encouraging smile. So far, she wasn’t doing badly.
“Oh, that was only tentative,” Gregory said. “But thanks for letting me know.”
Beth hesitated, her anxiety almost palpable. “No problem. I wanted to talk to you about something else, anyway.” She was squeezing Cole’s hand now, harder man he’d have believed she was capable of.
“What’s that?” Gregory asked.
“Well, when I was talking to Brian…”
You’re doing fine, Cole mouthed.
“He happened to mention that he told you I was trying to remember witnessing the murder. When the two of you were golfing last month, he said it was.
“So I was wondering, when I told you I had started to remember bits about it…why didn’t you say you knew I’d been trying to?”
“Aah,” Gregory said, stretching out the sound. “Yes, I thought at the time that maybe I should.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Well…you said I was the first person you’d told—aside from Mark and that detective. And it…this is probably going to sound silly, but it pleased me. I mean, I haven’t been the first person you’ve told about anything since you were a little girl. And it felt…almost as if you were giving me a present. So I didn’t want to spoil the moment.”
“Oh.” Beth looked uncertainly at Cole.
He shrugged. Gregory’s explanation was certainly plausible.
“If I’d known Brian was going to fill you in,” he added, “I’d have said something. But I figured that if he hadn’t mentioned he’d told me by that point, he’d forgotten all about it.”
“Oh,” Beth said again.
The car, Cole mouthed.
She scrunched up her face in an “I don’t want to” expression, but said, “By the way, I thought I saw you today. Around four-thirty or so? Driving behind Cole and me? Along Bloor and then up Bedford?”
“No, it wasn’t me. I was in my office until almost six.”
“Oh…it looked like your car. But I guess it couldn’t have been, then.”
“Not unless somebody took it for a joyride,” he said with a quiet laugh.
After a few final pleasantries, Beth said goodbye and hung up, looking as if she were about to start crying any second.
“Oh, Cole,” she whispered, “he just can’t be a murderer. Did you hear what he said? That when I told him, he felt as if I was giving him a present?
“That’s so sad. All those years when I almost never saw him, I thought he didn’t care about me. But he must have been thinking that I didn’t care about him. I mean, if simply telling him something before I told anyone else…”
When she wiped away a tear that had spilled over, Cole felt such a strong urge to take her in his arms that he could barely resist. But he made himself do with merely brushing a few stray hairs back from her cheek.
“You’ve had one hell of a long day,” he said gently. “Why don’t you turn in and get some sleep.”
She sat gazing at him, the sadness in her eyes making him think she could do with the comfort of a warm body. But there was no way on earth he’d be able to stop at merely comforting her.
“See you in the morning,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, then forcing himself to st
and up and walk out of the room.
AFTER HE LEFT BETH in her bedroom, Cole switched on the TV, knowing there was no way he’d get to sleep for hours. His mind was too busy with thoughts of how wonderful she felt in his arms. And with a hundred and one questions he wanted answers to.
They played on his mind while he watched the eleven, o’clock news, then Letterman, and finally a crummy movie.
Was her own father really trying to kill her? And if not, who was? And what about this creep who’d been calling her? Was it Brian? Without knowing the guy, it was hard to even make a good guess.
When his eyelids finally started feeling heavy, he switched off the TV and made up his bed on the couch. Then, just as he was about to undress, he heard a quiet noise in the hallway.
Grabbing his gun, he quickly headed into Beth’s office and peered through the peephole—in time to see the door of Marlon Birch’s apartment closing.
Thinking that the hours musicians kept were brutal, he tucked his gun against the small of his back, turned away from the door and stood gazing down at the night street.
All was still. Until the phone began to ring.
Wheeling around, he peered through the darkness at the caller ID display. It was reading Caller Unknown. He dashed for the bedroom.
By the time he got there, Beth had the bedside light on and was sitting up in bed, staring at the phone.
“Answer it,’’ he told her. “And if it’s him, keep him on the line.”
Looking incredibly anxious, she picked up the receiver and said, “Hello?”
When she nodded to him, he took off. Pausing only to get a glass from the kitchen, he raced through her office and out into the hallway. Then he crossed quietly to Birch’s door and pressed the glass to the wood.
It was hardly high-tech, but it worked. Birch’s words were faint but audible.
“I just had a feeling you’d like to hear from me tonight,” he was saying. “I’ve been thinking we should get together. Meet face-to-face. No? You don’t think so? Well, maybe I should surprise you. Maybe, sometime when you’re all alone someplace, I’ll just come up and introduce myself. ‘Cuz I think you and me’d have a real good time.”
The Missing Hour Page 12
