Fly With Fire (20 page)

She yanked her hands away and
climbed off his lap. “You weren’t thinking too professionally a moment ago.
Don’t like what you see? That can be remedied.” She picked up the T-shirt and
held it in front of her.

“Look I got carried away. I
knew it wasn’t a good idea but when you… and I felt…you kissed…” Zack stood up
stammering and adjusted himself, buckling his belt. “Ms. Whitman, Mo, you know
it would change everything. I’ve got to keep a clear head. I can’t protect you
if I’m preoccupied by…other things. We let attraction interfere then whoever
killed Ling has one up on us, if they’re still around and after tonight I’d bet
on it.”

Mo pursed her lips and
snorted. No man she had set her mind to had ever resisted her before. Now he
had to get a dose of common sense and will power just in time to make her feel
like a fool. Her eyes bore angry holes through him so he and tried to take her
hand in his. She jerked it away. “Why didn’t you say anything right away? Now I’m
in the position of feeling like I’ve sexually harassed an employee. And I feel
like an idiot. I thought…maybe you…I guess that was presumptuous of me. Thank
you very much for the lesson.” She turned and headed for her room feeling every
bit the idiot but also baffled. He had been watching. He had kissed her back.
He had responded with heat equal to that which had permeated every cell of her
being. She felt his response. In his kiss, from his hands. And the response
she’d felt while pressing on his lap had been unmistakable.

Zack wanted to go after her
and wrap his arms around her and make her understand. If she only knew how
painful, literally painful in body and mind it had been for him when he came to
his senses. He had been caught off guard. Her advance had been the last thing
he had expected. There had been what some might take as mild flirtation.
Nothing he would have taken seriously. There had been none of the signals he
might have expected. He thought they had become friends in a way but there was
no indication that this was in the works. He felt blindsided by her sudden
amorous behavior. How could he have gotten a grip on himself any more quickly?
He, and she, were lucky he had come to grips at all. “Mo. I wasn’t expecting
this. You took me by surprise. It’s not that I don’t… not that you’re not… I’m
sorry, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings but it’s just not right. Right now.”

“I’m sure you’re a very old
fashion kind of guy who likes to make the first move.” Mo still held the
T-shirt in front of her chest. She took his breath away with her hair flowing
over her shoulders. “My mistake, Detective Burnham. Your right, let’s keep it
professional.” She turned and slammed the door behind her. A part of her knew
she was acting like a spoiled child but the feeling of rejection overwhelmed
her sense of fairness. The frustrated desire blinded her to her own part in
bringing on the humiliation she felt.

Zack stood feeling confused
and guilty. Had he done the wrong thing? Should he have gone through with
something he felt, no matter how desirable, would interfere with his ability to
protect Mo? Indignation suddenly made him grimace with anger. She had sucker
punched him and there he was feeling like a cad. He walked to her door and
turned the knob. She spun as he opened it just as she shrugged into her
bathrobe. Despite his anger he felt a pulse of desire. He promptly looked away.
She clutched the robe around her and tied the belt. Her eyes struck his like
bolts of lightning. “This is unfair. I didn’t set out to hurt you so why am I
the one feeling like shit? I’m doing the best I can to keep you safe. Sex
wasn’t part of the deal and as tempting as it might be, I have to think about
your safety first. What a cad I am, but tough luck. Of course I responded. Who
wouldn’t? As I’m sure you very well know. I’m sorry if my thinking about your
safety first upset some kind of notch on your belt thing, but that’s the way it
is. I refuse to feel like shit for one minute longer. Besides which, you said
you were my friend. Tell a friend, remember that. I don’t have anything against
the idea of friends with benefits but you have no right to be angry if a friend
says no.”

“Notch on my belt? You think
I’m just trying to see how many scalps I can collect?” She paced a moment and
turned with fury darting from her eyes. That look had crushed men as surely as
any grinding stiletto. “I see you’ve already come to some sort of judgment
about me and that I’ve merely confirmed your assumptions. Yes, Detective, you
are just another notch waiting to happen. I killed my best friend just so I
could seduce the first cop to turn up. It’s all a scheme to feed my implacable
lust for notches on my bedpost.” She harrumphed and turned toward her bathroom.
“It’s late, goodnight.”

He was too angry to contain
it. He caught her before she went through the door. His hand was on her arm as
she turned angrily on him. The look on his face stopped her. She had never seen
such anger toward her from a man whose face was inches from her own. A hard
prick of fear spiked into her chest. Then the fog of her own anger cleared and
she saw the pain in his face.

The anger was mixed with
confusion and hurt. He glared at her with his hand on her arm. She saw his
sense of right and wrong. Fair and unfair. His sense of justice and she knew
she had attacked the most basic part of him. Beyond all things he was a man who
had dedicated his life to justice. His sense of it was essential to who he was.
Her ego had caused her to insult everything that was good in him. The very
thing that made his life worth living. She saw all this in an instant and knew
he would not hurt her. They stood and looked at each other until she gently
peeled his hand from her arm. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s my fault. It was
foolish of me and I compromised you. But I want you to know I don’t just go
around seducing whatever man is available. I’m not trying to beat a record.
It’s unfair for you to think so.”

His eyes softened. “I don’t
think that. I know you a little, anyway. I’m not a guy who judges women on
those terms. I don’t think woman, or men, should be too frivolous
about…attraction. We were both pissed. I’m sorry I said the notch thing.” He
saw a flash of hurt in her eyes and wished he could just hold her. “It’s been
an upsetting night. Let’s get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow we’ll know what the
hell we’re doing.” He touched her cheek lightly without thinking. “Good night.”

Mo watched him turn and
clasped her arms tight around herself. “Zack.” He turned wearily towards her.
Her voice was strained. “Just so there’s no mistake. I knew exactly what I was
doing.” She turned into the bathroom and left Zack standing there.

She had slept late and was
still tired. Foregoing her workout had made her feel grumpy and the excess
caffeine she had consumed had only served to make her jittery. Roddy watched
impatiently as Misha, with what he thought of as his big, clunky body,
substituted for Claude who had returned to his room from the hospital with a
blinding headache. It was another busy day in the life of La Cirque du
Celestial. And the general mood was as grim as Claude’s hangover.

“Why can’t I move from that
position? I’ve gotten it down. I’m not going to get in her way.” Deb glanced up
resentfully at Mo.

“I don’t want to go through
the ring of fire like that, Roddy.  It doesn’t work from the down view.”
Luca, a tumbler, complained.

“What am I supposed to do
about these tears? I don’t have time to wait for more fabric.” Sally clacked
away indignantly in her heels.

“Funny? What’s funny about
hell?” Trollie had shorts and a tee on. But his face was made up as usual. “The
front office wants more comic relief? I’m IRONIC relief. This isn’t Ringling.”
He swung his carrot topped head in a huff and rode off on his tiny bicycle.

Roddy dropped into a chair next
to Zack who was looking over the just delivered report. He rolled his eyes when
Zack looked at him. “I tell you Zack, some days I am like kindergardening
teacher. Just keeping the order and hoping something gets learned.”

Zack smiled at kindergardening.  
“I hate to make your day any more special, but Harve over at Greendale police
just sent these results over. Claude.”

“That is quick. What it say?”
Roddy brushed a hand through his comb over and leaned toward Zack.

“Someone used a syringe to
spike the champagne with Phenobarbitol. Do you know what that is? A powerful…”

“I know what it is, my wife
used to take it for the headache. Is someone trying to kill Claude? Well, maybe
not so surprising. How you get results so fast? Maybe they rush. Maybe they are
wrong.” Roddy seemed nervous. It was unusual and gained Zack’s attention.

“Roddy, are you all right?
Lot’s of people have taken this drug. Your wife has been eliminated as a
suspect. So have you. Do you know something you’re not telling me?” Zack eyed
the Italian. “Does someone else you know of take, or have access to
Phenobarbitol?” He tapped the report with his forefinger.

“I don’t want to say but Linc
brother come to visit last stop, New Orleans. He have the seizure he take that
drug for. He stay in room with Linc. Last day of visit he say drug is missing.
Had to get new prescrip…how to say, oh, call his doctor to get more. He say it
must be stolen, but Linc say his brother lost. Say his brother forget a lot of
things. I don’t know why somebody do these things! Zack, maybe someone is
trying to sabotage the show.” His Chihuahua eyes looked questioningly at the
detective. “We have made a name with great speed. We struggle for attention and
suddenly, boom! We sell out the tickets where ever we go. You see how it is. We
may be the first of this kind of show, but there are others. Plenty of
imitators. There are companies who do anything to bring us down. But murder?
No. I cannot believe it. The incidents not related maybe.”

“But this latest incident was
still an attack on Mo. Yes, perhaps it would benefit another company or even
just an individual performer to seed mistrust between your two stars. Divide
and conquer. Who would benefit from creating friction between your stars?
Another company’s meddling would guarantee nothing. After the murder ticket
sales flagged globally for about five minutes, then bounced right back. I don’t
think this is about competition between companies or performers. I think it’s
about Mo. And I think it’s very personal.”

“I don’t want to think
someone perhaps want to attack Mo. What you call that Misha? Do again. Oh, for
Christo’s sake!” Roddy turned back to Zack. “He’s a sweet boy, but he will
never be principle. I need understudy for both Mo and Claude. They cannot work
the six days always. Bodies need to rest. Deb is coming along, but she not
ready. She is getting better, but her poor training get in her way. Too many
circus people think they can do what we do. I have hundreds of applications.
But to be perfect? Like Mo? Even Claude, very rare, Zack, I tell you. I am
worried about my Momo. She in bad mood today.”

“I worry about Mo, too,
Roddy. She keeps a pace that would kill me.” Zack looked up and watched Mo
being caught by Misha. She seemed stiff. He wobbly. There was certainly not the
same ease and trust there was with Claude. Could the show make it without one
of them? Could someone be betting it would at least cause major delays if one
of them had to be replaced? Yet, surely there were many talented performers
longing for a shot.

He started thinking about the
night before. The excitement of the kiss. How she felt pressing on his lap. How
he couldn’t get her proffered breasts out of his mind. He felt like his head
had been spinning ever since. He felt that he was now compromised in his
ability to protect her. He’d lost his balance as if he himself were standing on
a moving swing. Flying with fire. “Look Roddy, we can speculate all we want;
the main thing is to protect your performers. The cops have dick, and we have
less to go on than they do. It’s time to bring in a firm. More manpower, plus
investigators. Someone who does this professionally. I screwed up last night
Roddy. Mo made light of it, but Claude got by me because I went to check out
some noise I heard near the rear exits on that end of the building. I heard her
scream, but if it had been a real attacker, I might have been too late.” He
looked at Roddy’s arched brows.

“Zack, you hard on yourself,
of course you go to see to noise.” Roddy shrugged. “You cannot be every place.”

“That’s the point, Roddy, I
can’t. This needs more people. I don’t think I can protect her by myself. I’ve
looked into some local, Chicago firms. I made a list of those with the best
reps…reputations. If I can’t keep one drunk away from her I doubt my ability to
protect her at all.”

“Absurd! Zack! You need more
people we get more people, but you stay on job. I talk to mayor. He say he
trust you with his life. Futoma, you do good job! Good form! Hold 
straighter Juan! What wrong with you? Jesus! Jesus, you and Juan look hung
over. Get you heads together. They are terrible twins. Great performers but
never know when to stop the party!” Roddy blew a kiss at Sal who was breezing
back through with an armload. Her frustration was apparently defused by the air
kiss since she stuck out her tongue at Roddy and threw Zack a wink.

Zack was still thinking of
the comment about the mayor. A mild exaggeration to say the least. Zack found
it hard to believe Tyler would say anything positive about him. “I’ve got to go
into the city today. Vince Smith is sending Janet Ben-Ghury over for a few
hours to fill in if that meets your approval. I can contact these firms and get
the ball rolling if you like. Someone wants to get to Mo Whitman. I’ve lost
confidence I can handle this myself.” Zack snapped the file shut with a last
glance up at Mo.