Seducing His Heart (23 page)

* * * *

Bess woke up at six. After shopping for
linens, basic kitchen items, and ordering furniture, she’d
collapsed early last night. The new coffee maker sent a tantalizing
aroma through the house. She poured a mug, donned her jacket,
leashed Dumpling, and headed for the beach.

The gray, November sky cooled the air even
lower than the reported temperature. The deserted shore was quiet
and calm. Bess released the dog to run free. The waves were small
compared to the ocean. She walked along, heading toward Playland,
an amusement park closed for the season.

Dumpling followed along, sticking to the
firm, damp sand. The tide was going out, leaving a sprinkling of
broken shells in white and various shades of blue and gray. The
task of furnishing Whit’s house was daunting. Bess had never done
anything like it alone. She chewed a lip as she second-guessed her
choices.

Deliveries would begin arriving that
afternoon. She needed to go back to the hardware store and
supplement the rudimentary kitchen supplies she had bought there
the day before. The wind picked up. Bess pulled the zipper of her
jacket higher, her mind occupied with details and decisions.
Dumpling barked at a lone seagull and chased it along the shore.
Bess almost didn’t hear her phone ring.

On the screen was a number
she didn’t recognize. She grimaced.
Is
this a damn sales pitch? On my cell?
She
was about to turn it off when it stopped. She shrugged and went
back to making a mental shopping list when it went off again. The
same number.
Salespeople don’t usually
call back.

“
Hello?”

“
Bess, don’t hang
up.”

She stopped. “Terry?” A
chill shot up her spine.
It can’t
be.

“
Yeah. Don’t hang up.
Please, Bess. Listen.”

She sank down hard on the sand, her eyes
wide. The mug fell beside her, spilling the remaining coffee.
Dumpling sat next to her. “Terry? Is it really you? You’re not
dead?” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“
I don’t have much time.
I’m not supposed to be calling you.”

“
What the hell?” Anger
pushed sadness out of her heart.

“
I’m not surprised you’re
pissed. Give me a minute.”

“
Start talking.” Her lips
compressed into a frown.

“
The undercover work I was
doing got dangerous. I got made. I had to get out of
town.”

“
Oh?”

“
This is a burn phone. Not
traceable. Still, it’s dangerous for me to talk to anyone I’ve
known from before. But I had to call you.”

“
Why? To explain about
your wife?”

“
I’m sorry about that. We
were practically divorced. When they arranged for me to leave town,
Mona came with me. Had to. It wasn’t safe for her, either. We’ve
reconciled. She understands about you now. She’s sorry for causing
trouble.”

“
That’s lovely, but I’ve
lost my job.”

“
I’m sorry,
babe.”

“
Don’t ‘babe’ me! I cried
my eyes out when I heard you were dead.”

“
It couldn’t be helped.
I’m sorry. Listen. I don’t have much time. You’re in danger. I
figured it out when I saw about the break-in at your
place.”

“
Ya think?”

“
I didn’t know you’d go to
my funeral. All that press. They know about you, figured out where
I hid it. Now you’re not safe.”

“
Are you going to
help
me
leave
town?”

“
Got one better. I know
what they were looking for.”

“
What?”

“
A notebook. I kept all my
names and stuff in a small notebook.”

“
The stuff this case is
about? And what would that be?”

“
Okay, okay. It’s a police
corruption with the Mafia case. In my notebook, I have the names of
the officers and Mafia guys involved. The creep who broke into your
place was looking for it.”

“
Why would he look
there?”

“
Because that’s where I
hid it.”

“
Oh my God!” She pushed to
her feet and paced.

“
Yeah. I’m sorry. There
wasn’t any other safe place. I didn’t think they’d find you. Then,
you hit the news, and your connection with me came out…”

“
They destroyed my house
looking for it.”

“
I’m so sorry, baby. Maybe
they didn’t find it.”

“
The police think they
did.”

“
I’ll tell you where it is
then you have to promise me something.”

“
What?”

“
You’ll take it to that
nosy news bastard who lives across the hall.”

“
Whit?”

“
Yeah. Him.”

“
Why?”

“
He’ll give it to the
police chief and brag about it on the air. Then, they’ll leave you
alone. So, you gotta promise, if I tell you where it is, that
you’ll do that.”

“
I promise. But why can’t
I take it to the police myself?”

“
The chief won’t see you.
And the bad cops’ll make sure you have a fatal accident before you
get to him. Besides, the bastard’ll put it on the air. Then, the
bad cops and the Mafia guys’ll know you don’t have it. They won’t
come around again looking.”

“
Okay, okay. You make
sense. Where is it?”

“
In the one place they
didn’t look…”

“
Dumpling’s
bed?”

“
On the nose, babe.” He
chuckled. “The one near the kitchen. I taped it to the
bottom.”

Bess laughed in spite of the situation.
“You’re too much.”

“
Look, I’ll get in trouble
if I stay on much longer. You promise to do as I said,
right?”

“
Right. I
will.”

“
You were great, babe. We
had something special. Sorry it had to end this way.”

“
Me, too. Be
safe.”

“
You, too. I’ll be
watching when I can.”

“
Thanks.” She closed her
cell.

The wind picked up. The
only sound was the occasional cry of a hungry seagull. Bess
retrieved her mug, brushing off the sand, leashed her pug, and
headed back to the house.
Imagine that.
He’s not dead.
She smiled. Anger
dissipated, and happiness flowed.
Glad
he’s alive.

After dropping Dumpling
off, she picked up the car keys and headed outside.
Have to get this furnished a bit before I can go
back and clean this up.
She planned to
stay the night to receive deliveries then return to get the
notebook and remove the danger from her life.

Bess spent the day moving furniture, setting
up the kitchen, and picking paint colors. By nine o’clock, she was
exhausted. Dumpling had already crashed on the bed. Bess crawled
between the new sheets and huddled under the down comforter. Too
tired for sex, still, she wished Whit were there to warm her and
hold her close during the night.

* * * *

The knock on Whit’s door at ten startled
him. Fresh from the shower, he fastened the sash on his robe and
stowed his coffee mug in the kitchen.

“
Bess? What are you doing
here?”

“
Come, I need you.” She
tugged on his sleeve and headed toward her apartment.

“
What’s going on? Let me
finish my coffee first.” He turned her around, and they ended up at
his kitchen table. He poured her a cup.

She explained everything, except where she
got the information. “I can’t tell you that.”

“
Why not?”

“
I can’t. I promised. It’s
a safety thing.”

Whit waved his hand in the air. “Okay, okay.
Continue.”

“
I want you to come with
me…in case.”

“
Let me get
dressed.”

“
Can I watch?”

He laughed. Bess followed him into the
bedroom. Whit threw on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then,
together they approached the door to Bess’s apartment with caution,
as if it were wired to explode. Once they opened the door with no
bomb going off, they padded straight toward the kitchen. A small,
green, fuzzy oval lay on the floor.

“
That’s her
bed?”

“
Yep.” Bess turned it
over, and there it was. Fastened with duct tape to the rubbery
matting on the bottom was a small, black notebook. She detached the
tape and stood up.

“
We’d better get outta
here. Let’s look it over at my place,” Whit said, taking her
hand.

They hurried out of the empty apartment and
into his. Whit locked all three locks on the door. Bess’s heart
pounded.

“
Wow. That was
scary.”

“
Yeah. In a funny way, it
was.”

She handed the notebook to Whit. He opened
it, paged through, stopping to glance at a page or two from time to
time. “There’s a ton of information in here. I don’t know how much
will be helpful, but there’s plenty.”

“
Take it away. If I never
see it again…”

“
I know. Time for me to
get to work.” Whit changed into a suit and tie, kissed Bess, waved
to the dogs, and headed out.

At the studio, he stopped in Sam’s office
and shut the door.

“
What’s up?” Sam sat
slumped over a report. A half-filled cup of coffee took up the last
smidgeon of space on her messy desk.

“
I’ve got a great lead for
a fantastic story.”

“
Yeah?” She straightened
and narrowed her eyes.

He explained about the notebook, now resting
safely in his breast pocket. He smiled to himself as he watched Sam
salivate.

“
This could be my
Pulitzer
,” she
muttered.

“
Our
Pulitzer
.”

“
Gimme, gimme. Where is
it?”

“
Nope. It goes to the cops
right after we look it over. We gotta call the police chief and
arrange its safe delivery. But first…I want to make a deal.” Whit
took a chair.

“
A deal? You have the
story of the century, and you want to make a deal? What kind of a
newsman are you?”

“
One with a conscience.
Here’s the deal. Get Bess Cooper’s show,
Baking with Bess
, back on the
air.”

She made a face. “I have no pull with that
rinky-dink cable station.”

“
I know. But you do here.
In fact, you’re the most powerful producer at Eagle
Broadcasting.”

“
You flatter me.” But Whit
saw her puff up.

“
It’s true. Get her a
five-year contract. I want that done, or I send the notebook to the
police chief, anonymously, by courier.” He sat back, propping his
feet up on the trash can.

“
Why, I can’t…Where would
I put the show?”

“
Rumor has it you’re
canceling that gardening program, anyway. Too many pesticides, his
ratings are manure…”

“
Ha ha, very
funny.”

“
It’s true, though, isn’t
it?”

“
Maybe…I don’t have the
power…”

“
Stop lying. If you say
so, it’ll be done. Especially when you tell them you have an
informant with
Pulitzer
-level information.” Whit studied her face.

“
Well, if you put it that
way…I suppose I can at least ask.”

Whit pushed to his feet. “Let me know when
the contract is ready to sign.”

“
I can’t work that
fast.”

“
Bullshit. I’ve seen you
work faster. Remember the Mahoney case?”

“
That was an unusual
situation.”

“
So is this. You have
twenty-four hours before I send it.”

“
What? You’re joking?” She
slammed her mug on the desk, splashing coffee on her
report.

“
Never been more serious.
Twenty-four hours.” He moved toward the door.

“
Where’s the info? How do
I know it’s safe?”

“
You’ll have to trust me.”
He heard her snort as he turned.

Using all his willpower,
he kept a smug smile at bay until he was alone in his office. He
looked over the papers on his desk, trying to concentrate.
Happiness filled his veins.
Making it up
to Bess.
When his phone rang, he answered
it with cheer.

“
Pickford
Williams.”

“
Hey, Pick. How the hell
are ya?”

“
You’re in a good
mood.”

“
Yeah, well, did a good
deed today.”

“
A boy scout? Is this
Whitfield Bass?”

Whit chuckled. “Present and accounted for.
What’s up?”

“
The job. You’ve got two
weeks to say goodbye and pack your bag, buddy.”

“
Contract?”

“
Six months.”

“
Excellent.”

“
Meet me for a drink at
nine at the Shelton Arms hotel. We’ll sign the contract, go over
travel budgets, and that kinda shit.”