Forever Mine (16 page)

“It seems like you’re caught somewhere in between.”

“In between what?”

“Lifestyles. I don’t see you as the hunting, fishing, and mountain climbing type like you described your dad. And, by your own admission, a setup like this would make you uncomfortable.”

“Am I so easy to read?”

“You are to me.”

“Why? Because you’re a cop?”

“Hmm…Partly.”

“What’s the other part?”

“I’ve been with you twelve hours a day. It’s given me a pretty keen sense of what you like and what you can’t or won’t tolerate.”

“You really think you know me?”

“Yeah.”

“By what method? Intuition?”

“Yes, and observation. And deduction.”

She was on the verge of asking what specifically he thought he knew about her but held back. It didn’t really matter. Their days together had a definite sell-by date.

“You’re right about my not belonging to either of my parents’ worlds. If you’d met my grandmother, you would have seen the resemblance between her and me. It wasn’t only physical.”

Her parents’ divorce had left Allie adrift. Her father’s move up north and her mother seeking a sophisticated lifestyle with people with whom Allie couldn’t connect had turned her in a more contemplative direction. Gram filled the void.

“She’s the grandmother who left you the house.”

“Yes. She died the year I graduated from The Art Institute. I’d paid for my education myself, too. With student loans—I’ve only just repaid them. My original plan had been to work in some aspect of fashion until I’d saved enough money to rent my own space. When I inherited Gram’s place, it had never occurred to me to sell it. Instead, I decided to convert the ground floor into my office and work area. Hamilton had offered to rent loft space for me, but I couldn’t accept. I wanted to do it myself. Now, I’m comfortable there. It provides for all my needs and suits me just fine. At least it did until you know…”

She grimaced. “The thought of Dave setting a foot inside my home makes me want to throw up. His doing so would be, along with every other imagined horror, a desecration.”

“He won’t ever get close. You have my promise. If he ever tries, I’ll…” He made a fist and punched the air twice with an imitation of an uppercut, as if he were about to pummel someone.

She wondered if Sutter would ever give into the temptation to beat up a suspect. Maybe he’d already used his fists on other criminals. She’d deemed him a man of great inner strength, capable of suffering isolation and discomfort with no complaints. His resorting to violence hadn’t previously entered her thoughts. Then again, she hardly knew him or what he was capable of in a violent situation.

“You will capture him if he makes it down here. Right? Arrest him?” More and more lately, Allie needed assurance Dave would be hauled off to jail before he even hit her street.

“So fast, he’ll think the ground caved in under his feet. Yeah, I’ll arrest him if he shows. What I’d like to do is practice a karate move on him, if I can remember one.”

“Isn’t that against the law?”

“It is unless the suspect tries to resist arrest or attempts to escape.

“I thought you were supposed to uphold the law not break it.”

“Sometimes the temptation is very strong. But I’ve never given in to doing anything outside of the rule book or would weigh on my conscience. Nor will I ever.” He reached for his glass of Coke and took a sip. “Haven’t you ever broken a law? Deliberately rolled through a stop sign, parked in a loading zone? Jaywalked…?”

“Are you kidding? In this city, people are picked off by motorists even while in a crosswalk.”

He smiled. “You’re a good woman, Cinderella.”

Allie rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to keep calling me that?” She’d never let on that, coming from him, she liked it.

“I guess not, since I’ll have you home before midnight. What would you like me to call you instead?”

“I thought we agreed on Allie.”

“I thought the agreement was just for tonight.”

“Oh.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You mean after?”

“Uh-huh.”

She didn’t need to think very long. “Allie will do fine.”

“Okay.” He paused as if this new development took some getting used to. “I’ll go along if you cut the Detective Sutter stuff and call me Ben.”

“Sure.”

Ben. She mentally tried it out to check whether or not she’d feel comfortable saying it aloud. No, not really. Not yet. She’d have to wait for the actual moment when using his name became necessary.

“How about we shake on it?” He held out his hand.

Slight embarrassment overcame Allie as she glanced at his strong palm and long supple fingers. Somehow, shaking hands with Detective Sutter—Ben—seemed anything but casual. She slipped her hand into his and kept her eyes away from his face and on his Hermes tie. She wondered about the bearer of that very expensive gift.

Had the woman cut loose from their relationship, or had Ben wielded the figurative ax? Allie didn’t have a clue. Yet.

Chapter Fifteen

“Here you are.”

Allie yanked her hand from Ben’s, as Delilah’s voice floated from the open doorway.

Too late. Her mother had seen the two of them if not holding hands, at least the next best thing, touching. It sent the wrong signal and would necessitate Allie offering an explanation sometime in the future. Ben didn’t seem to be bothered by Delilah catching him with Allie’s hand in his.

“We’re serving dinner in a few minutes.” Delilah walked across the terrace. “Are you sure you can’t stay?”

“No, Mother. I told you Ben has a flight to catch. Isn’t that right?” Allie shot him a steely eyed glance. The longer they stayed, the greater the chance he’d blow his cover. She checked her watch. “We’re already late, and the traffic on the way to the freeway is liable to be merciless.”

“Couldn’t you postpone your return until tomorrow, Ben?”

The way Delilah angled between them forced Allie to step back. Allie might wonder about the familiarity of using his given name, but her mother had no such qualms. A sure sign she’d already decided on him as a possible candidate for her daughter. “Or perhaps you could take a red eye. We’re serving squab, Allegra’s favorite.”

“Mother…” Allie protested.

She hadn’t eaten squab for years, not since she’d found out they were pigeons. But her bigger concern was the seating arrangement. Her mother never sat couples together at dinner parties. If Ben was seated anywhere near the Valkyries, they’d pick his brain and quickly discover he understood next to nothing about men’s fashions. How would he explain the lack of knowledge? Allie never doubted his intelligence, he always seemed to have an answer to everything. But the fashion world couldn’t be any farther from the way he earned a living than if he tamed elephants. Maybe this once, her mother might make an exception to her seating rule and place Allie beside Ben to give her more time to “intrigue” him. Her mother had certainly supplied more than enough pointers on how to keep men interested over the years.

“Sorry,” Ben said. “Maybe another time.”

“Oh, well…” Delilah turned to include Allie in the conversation. “I suppose if you must leave before dinner, Allegra, cook will package some food for you to take home.”

Allie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m set for the next week, at least.”

As the three reentered the living room, Delilah quizzed Allie about Designorama. “We’ve hardly had a chance to talk.”

“There’s nothing new to tell. Except for finishing one daytime dress and the wedding gown, everything else is pretty much ready.”

“Will you make it up here for the competition?” Delilah asked Ben.

He glanced at Allie. “There’s a chance I might, depending on my schedule.”

“Then we might see you next week.” Delilah hugged Allie and extended her hand to Ben.

Allie wanted to pinch her mother.

“You’re always welcome any time you’re in town,” Delilah continued. “And we’ll be at the Tahoe house over the fourth of July. There’s plenty of room.”

Ben smiled but remained noncommittal.

Allie hurried to the bedroom where coats were always hung in the walk-in closet. She shrugged into her jacket, grabbed her purse then hurried back to the living room. She barely managed to head off one of the Valkyries, who expressed her disappointment Allie and “the darling man you brought” were leaving. She spotted Hamilton talking to a couple whose pictures appeared often in the society pages of the
Chronicle.
She hurried over and extricated him then signaled Ben to join them.

“Hamilton, I’m sorry there wasn’t an opportunity earlier, and we have to leave now, but I wanted you to meet Ben. He’s from L.A.,” she stressed.

The men shook hands and uttered the usual social niceties—none of which thankfully included men’s fashions.

“I have invitations for you and Mother to the fashion show.” Allie reached into her purse then handed Hamilton an envelope containing a printed card for admittance. “Remember, the tent will be set up behind City Hall.”

“Your mother printed a bold-face notation in her datebook. We’re both looking forward to the evening.”

Allie hugged him goodbye. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Once downstairs and in the car, Ben retraced the route back to Allie’s. He didn’t seem in the mood for chitchat, so she leaned back and let her mind wander over the last details she needed to attend to for the semi-finals. However, as he cleared the corner and approached her house, she saw him glance toward the building. The moon cast a pale glow, just enough to illuminate the front steps. Instead of slowing the car, he continued to the end of the block.

“You missed the house,” she said.

He shook his head.

Immediately, she realized he’d never make such a mistake. Maybe if he’d been distracted, but they hadn’t uttered more than a few words since leaving the party. She became instantly alert to their surroundings. Her heart drummed in her chest. No one prowled her street, at least that she was aware of. The only cars in evidence were the few cruising up and down the Great Highway.

“What’s wrong?”

He took his time before answering, which further alarmed her.

“Any reason for someone to send you flowers?” He made a U-turn at the corner then headed slowly back toward the house.

“What? No. I can’t think of any.”

“Well someone did. They’re sitting by the front door.”

He drove well below the speed limit. The movement of his head told her he searched the street for anything that looked out of place.

Allie’s stomach muscles clenched. Her fingers tightened around the passenger door armrest.

This time, when they reached the house, Ben punched the remote as he swung the car into the driveway with enough force to jostle Allie. The door rose, and they almost skidded into the garage.

Ben cut the motor and hit the garage door opener. As the overhead door lowered, the irritating squeal cut into her nerves. He exited the car then instructed her to slide over to his side of the vehicle.

“Don’t make a sound,” he mouthed and, for emphasis, placed an index finger close to his lips.

The admonition warned her not to question him. He removed a key from his ring—the house key that fit all the door locks—palmed it then handed her the remaining keys, isolating the one that fit the ignition. At his serious expression, the pressure built in her chest. Her breath caught in her throat. His admonition warned her not to question him. A chill as icy as a winter wind blowing in from the ocean swept through her body.

“Lock the car when I go inside. If anyone other than me comes through that door…” He indicated the one leading into the rear of the house, “Get the hell out of here. Drive straight to Taraval Station. I’ll meet up with you there.”

A tremor gripped her hand, but she managed to push the key into the ignition. He closed the car door, waited until she engaged the locks then headed toward the back of the garage. When he reached Allie’s car, he opened the driver’s side door, which, at least momentarily, blocked access to his own car.

A moment later, the overhead bulb was extinguished.

Chapter Sixteen

Moving quietly, Ben slid his gun from its holster. He inserted the key into the door lock, turned the knob, and opened the door just wide enough to ease through it. Holding his weapon close to his body, he stepped into the semi-darkness inside the house and did a quick surveillance.

The backroom appeared clear, except for Allie’s work table, the plastic-wrapped bolts of fabric on the shelf and the clothes hanging from the metal rack. To be on the safe side, he double checked behind the rack. Nothing there except the wall. He pocketed the key, closed and locked the door then waited, his ears sharply attuned to sound. All he heard was his breath. He checked the door leading to the back porch. All the locks were engaged, and he found no signs of a forced entry. Nothing about the lone window raised his suspicions either. Shadows dappled the garden.

From his lone foray into the backyard, he remembered the space beneath the porch. Barely enough room for a person to crouch. He grabbed his cell with his left hand, activated its flashlight app then pressed it against his side to hide the light as he cracked open the door. Steps led down to a concrete slab. He descended them with a minimum of sound then shined his cell’s light into the space beneath the steps. Nothing there except a bag of fertilizer and some empty clay pots.

He slipped the cell back in his pocket then reentered the house. After he secured the door he quietly moved into the center room. The body forms stood like haunted figures in the gloom. On one, the skirt of a white bridal gown flowed to the floor. For the past two days, Allie had worked diligently on the garment. A woman’s black evening dress draped the second form. He paused for a brief moment, listening, then bypassed the forms and entered the office. The French shades on the window blocked most of the glow from the street lamp outside, but there was enough for him to see the room was empty. A message light blinked on the answering machine. He’d play it after he checked the rest of the house.