Shattered Silk (30 page)

Read Shattered Silk Online

Authors: Barbara Michaels

Tags: #detective

BOOK: Shattered Silk
4.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"You don't take it seriously, do you, Tony? Be honest; my ego isn't involved. I've no aspirations toward being a great detective."

Tony's fingers moved caressingly across the back of her hand, around her wrist. "Thank God for that. To be honest, then, I don't. The simplest solutions are usually the right ones. I only wish we could find solid proof that Rob was the joker in the bed sheet; it would be a load off your mind to be absolutely certain. That's the way these things usually work out, though. It's a
rare day in court when we can produce conclusive evidence."

"I know. We won't talk about it anymore."

"I'll tell you everything I can. The press already has most of this information, I'm not violating official security by telling you-and what the hell, I'd probably do it anyway if I thought it would help you. I guess you're the kind who'd rather know the facts, however unpleasant. Not," he added quickly, "that there's much to report. We did locate his car. It had been left in the parking lot of a hamburger joint a couple of miles from the place where he was found. His suitcase was in the truck. He had a sizable stash of odds and ends-pot, coke, pills-under the seat, but I think it was his private supply. There were fingerprints all over the interior-his, Julie's, and some we can't identify. The killer's fingerprints may be among them, but unless he has a record and his prints are on file, we'll never trace him that way. This may turn out to be one of the ones we don't solve."

After that Karen was content to let him change the subject. Delicately exploring new terrain, they discovered mutual interests-jazz, Monty Python, and the Impressionist painters. Tony laughed good-naturedly when she let her surprise show. "You think we're all uncultured slobs? I'm pretty high on the fifteenth-century Tuscan painters, too. Go on, ask me something."

By the end of the meal they were talking easily. When the coffee arrived, Tony started to tighten up, and Karen wondered if there was some other ugly development he had been afraid to mention. Instead he said suddenly, "I bought a house."

"You-you what?" His sheepish grin told her the rest. "Tony! Not-"

"Yes, the one in Leesburg. Actually, I haven't bought it yet, just signed the contract. But I think the owner will accept my offer."

Karen got her breath back. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"Not when I know what I'm doing. The reason I mention it is, I wondered if you want to rent from me."

Karen lost her breath again. While she stared speechlessly, Tony elaborated. "I told you I was looking for an investment. I hesitated about rental property, because there are so many drawbacks when you don't have the time to supervise your tenants closely. Renters can wreck a place, move out owing you money… I figure you and Cheryl aren't about to throw wild parties or skip out on the rent. From your point of view it might not be such a bad deal either. I'm not going to do you any favors- this is business, pure and simple-but if you add up what you and Cheryl would each pay for an apartment, plus the rent on a small commercial property-"

Karen held up her hands. "Stop a minute and give me time to think! You don't have to tell me about the advantages of combining living and business quarters; Cheryl has already calculated the relative costs."

"Then why not take me up on it? You liked the place, didn't you? Cheryl said you were as crazy about it as she was, only you didn't want to admit it because you knew it was out of the question."

Karen said in exasperation, "Cheryl is… Oh, she's right. I did like the house, it's perfect. It wouldn't even need any structural changes; I could use the parlors, add portable racks and stands, curtain off an area for a dressing room…"

"Tracks for movable floodlights? They're easy to install."

"Some kind of floor covering," Karen said eagerly. "You wouldn't want people tracking mud all over those beautiful yellow pine boards…Tony! Don't tempt me. I can't let you do this."

"You don't understand," Tony said, and all at once his face was remote and a little sad and very vulnerable. "It would be an escape for me. A chance to get away from all the dirt and filth and sick tragedies that are my job."

"I do understand. Better than you realize."

"Then why won't you let me enjoy myself?" He grinned at her, and she felt a wave of pure affection sweep over her.

"I'll think about it," she said.

"That's all I'm asking. I'll let you know as soon as it's definite. Uh-maybe you'd better not say anything to Cheryl until I'm sure."

"Okay."

But he couldn't stop talking about the house. "I think we could close in thirty days; the owner is anxious to sell and there won't be any trouble about getting a loan; my credit's good. Say another month to get things set up- you could do a lot of the preliminary work beforehand, couldn't you-permits and promotion and buying furniture, making curtains, that sort of thing. Say you have your grand opening the first of October. The kid could start school on time-maybe a few days late. That doesn't matter so much in nursery school or kindergarten, does it? Being a few days late?"

"No, I'm sure it wouldn't matter," Karen said gently.

It wasn't until the yawning waiters began stacking the chairs that Karen realized they were the only patrons left in the restaurant.

"Good heavens, it's almost midnight," she exclaimed.

"So? Do you get grounded if you're late coming home?"

"I was thinking about you. What time do you have to be at work?"

"Two a.m." He smiled at her look of consternation. "I'm on the late shift this week-or maybe it's the early shift."

"You could get a couple of hours' sleep if you went home right now."

"I don't want to sleep. It's your civic duty to keep me company until I go back to the job of protecting you defenseless citizens at the risk of life and limb."

"How can I resist an appeal like that?"

"You can't. I guess we'd better leave, though. Do you get the impression that the waiters are dropping subtle hints?"

Once outside, they debated how to spend the next two hours. Karen refused Tony's suggestion of a nightclub, sensing that he was no more attracted by the idea than she was. "Why don't we take a walk? It's such a beautiful evening."

"Every man's dream-a cheap date." Tony gave her arm a squeeze. "Let's go back to Georgetown, then. Downtown D.C. is no place for a peaceful stroll."

"From what I've heard about Georgetown, it isn't overly safe either."

"I wasn't talking safe, honey. Without wishing to brag too blatantly, I can assure you there aren't many people you'd be safer with."

"If anybody bothers us, you scream 'Hiya!' and leap?"

"Something like that. Georgetown has nicer walks than downtown."

"Fine with me. Would you mind if we swung by the house? We needn't stop, just drive past."

"Are you having a premonition of impending disaster?"

"No, of course not. But Cheryl is alone…" He helped her into the car. After he had settled himself behind the wheel she went on, "No more shop talk. I promise."

"It isn't shop talk when it concerns you and Cheryl."

"I guess I'm being silly."

"No. It's a normal reaction after what you've been through. And it's healthy to be afraid, so long as you don't let it get out of hand." They drove for a while in silence. Then Tony said, "Here we are. I see Mama has left the lights burning for you."

The outside lights were on, but the windows were dark. Karen let out a sound of exasperation. "I told her to leave all the lights on. I suppose she's upstairs, sewing or making more of her endless lists. The bedroom is at the back, so the lights wouldn't be visible from here."

Tony slowed the car to a crawl. "Do you want to check?"

"No, that's not necessary. Everything looks just as it should."

"Okay."

Tony finally found a legal parking place, several blocks from the house and some distance from the commercial area. Instead of getting out of the car, he turned to Karen and took her in his arms. There was no hesitation this time, and she yielded willingly. After a time his lips slid away from hers, tracing the curves of her cheek and earlobe with a skill that sent trickles of electricity along every vein.

"Do you really want to go for a walk?" he asked softly.

"No. But this isn't going to work, Tony. You know it isn't."

He was silent for a time, his warm breath stirring her hair, his mouth absently exploring the soft skin of her face and throat. "Is it that obvious?" he asked finally.

"You give yourself away with every word and every look," she told him, half laughing, and more than half regretful.

"You don't. Is it Mark?"

"What a gentleman you are, Tony." Karen freed herself and settled into the curve of his arm, her cheek resting on his shoulder. "Don't tell me you didn't notice what a fool I am."

"Men are notoriously obtuse about things like that."

"I hope Mark is."

"That's dumb," Tony said, his cheek against her hair. "How's he supposed to know unless you tell him?"

Karen could think of no sensible answer. "It doesn't work that way," she mumbled.

"He's very concerned about you-"

"Sure I know. He's so concerned that he's gone off for the weekend with one of his floozies."

Tony's breath erupted in a sputter of laughter, and his arm tightened around her. "Floozies? The only other person I've ever heard use that word was Mrs. MacDougal. It may not be what you think, Karen. Give the guy a break."

"He doesn't want a break. Tony, are you sure you didn't suspect that I-how I felt?"

"I wondered once or twice. But I hoped I was wrong."

"No, you didn't. You don't really want to settle for second best."

"You aren't second best. Karen, don't think I deliberately set out to use you-"

"To make Cheryl jealous? You wouldn't be so naive. I think you're trying to talk yourself out of a situation you consider hopeless. Give her a little more time."

"She's had a year. I haven't pushed, Karen."

"Maybe you should have."

"Swept her off her feet? I don't buy that. Maybe it works in romantic novels, but any woman who's dumb enough to fall for the caveman technique is too dumb for me. I've tried everything else, God knows."

"You could get wounded and stagger in dripping blood and faint at her feet."

She felt the muscles of his cheek contract as if he were smiling, but there was no amusement in his voice. "Thanks, but no thanks. That's another conventional fictional device, but I've got my doubts about its effectiveness. Besides, I don't want to get wounded. It hurts."

"Oh, Tony, what are we going to do?" She pressed closer to him. "She must be out of her mind. You're so nice-I like you so much…"

His arm tightened. "Me too. That's not such a bad beginning, is it?"

"No…"

"We could work at it. Give it our best shot."

"You already have. Not that I didn't enjoy every minute of it."

Again his laughter stirred the hair on her temple. "I appreciate the testimonial, and return the compliment. Friends?"

"Friends," Karen agreed, and settled more comfortably into an embrace that promised and demanded nothing more than either of them was willing to give.

"Just one thing, Karen."

"Mmm?"

"You're not doing this just because you feel it would be disloyal to Cheryl… My God. What a conceited thing to say. I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant. Lucky for you," Karen added, smiling to herself. "No, my friend-that wasn't the reason. I made one big mistake. Not that you aren't about a million percent better than Jack; but I learned that there's no substitute for the genuine article. It's better to do without than settle for less."

They did go for a walk eventually, strolling slowly along the silent streets, arms entwined. They talked in spurts, with long periods of comfortable silence in between: about the weather, about politics-and about the house in Leesburg. When Karen finally admitted her feet were beginning to hurt, Tony said he'd walk her to the house; they were as close to it as to the car.

There was no one on the street. If she had been alone, Karen would have hurried, casting uneasy glances into the shadows. She felt more at ease than she had for days. It wasn't only Tony's size or the feel of hard muscle against her arm, or the even harder bulge of the gun under his coat; it was his air of competence and of confidence. She would feel safe with this man anywhere.

As they approached the house, whose front lights still burned, she began, "I hope you aren't-"

"Ssss." Tony pulled her to a standstill.

"What-"

"Quiet. Listen."

Karen could hear nothing except the normal night noises. After a moment Tony said in a low voice, "Walk on. Past the house."

His hand moved her forward. The sound of their footsteps echoed with abnormal loudness. Karen was afraid to speak. Not until they had gone some distance at the same leisurely pace did she venture to whisper, "What is it?"

"Probably nothing." Tony's voice was equally inaudible. "I thought I heard something-a muffled thump- from the back of the house. Probably a shutter or a door banging. Turn the corner… Okay. There's no alley behind the house, is there? How do you get into the back yard?"

"A side gate." Karen explained its location.

"Right. You stay here. I'll double back and have a look."

"I'm not staying here alone!"

"Quiet. Okay, come on, but don't make a sound."

He moved with a speed that left Karen hard-pressed to obey his orders. When they reached the wooden gate opening onto the passage toward the back, his hands were quick to find the bolt that held it closed, even in the dark. Karen crouched behind him, dry-mouthed and tense.

Tony started to ease the gate open. Despite his care the rusted hinges gave a squawk of protest that shattered the silence as loudly as a scream. Tony swore. "That's done it. Stay here."

He plunged into the darkness of the passage. Karen only hesitated for a moment; there were cobwebs lacing the narrow place from side to side, they felt like ghostly fingers on her face. The gate at the far end burst open under Tony's charge; for a moment she saw him, silhouetted against the lighter shape of the opening. Then he shouted and ran forward.

Other books

DeVante's Curse by Johnson, S. M.
Generation Dead - 07 by Joseph Talluto
Actually by Mia Watts
Once Again a Bride by Jane Ashford
Cross of Fire by Mark Keating