Sketch Me If You Can (16 page)

For a moment she stood frozen in place, her mind trying to process what her eyes were seeing. Then her training kicked in. She set her purse on the floor and drew her gun out of its holster before advancing farther into the room. She knew that once she passed the partitioning wall, she’d be visible to anyone who might still be in the office proper. She waited another minute, holding her breath and listening for sounds of movement inside. She could hear the mechanical click of the wall clock, the muted sounds of traffic on the street below, the ringing of a phone in another part of the building and louder than all of them, the hectic thudding of her heart.

The odds were that the intruder was long gone, but since odds didn’t always favor the gambler, she flattened herself against the wall and edged forward. When she reached the doorway to the inner office, she gripped the gun in both hands to steady her aim and swung into the room shouting, “Police! Drop your weapons!”

The room had been thoroughly ransacked, but it appeared to be unoccupied. She checked behind the door and within the narrow coat closet. The only bathroom was out in the building’s common hallway. There was nowhere else for anyone to hide. She was alone. She didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath until it exploded out of her lungs with relief.

She looked around her. Nothing was where it belonged. All the furniture had been moved. Desk and filing cabinet drawers hung open, their contents scattered everywhere. The ceramic planters had been thrown to the floor and smashed, out of frustration perhaps when the intruder hadn’t found what he was looking for. The ridiculous thought crossed Rory’s mind that this was actually a worse mess than Mac had ever made.

Although she couldn’t be certain, it was a good bet that the intruder was looking for the file on Gail Oberlin. But that file was back in the house on Brandywine Lane. Unlike Mac, Rory had no hesitancy about arming the security system at night or whenever she went out. Since the central station hadn’t called on her cell phone to report a break in, whoever had trashed the office had not yet tried to gain entry to the house. Of course, if Zeke were right about Mac being murdered, then it was possible that the same intruder had already been in the house at least once. Regarded in that light, the office break-in took on a decidedly more troubling aspect.

As Rory started to clean up the room, it occurred to her that she’d broken her promise to Leah. She should have left the office and called for backup as soon as she realized that there’d been a break-in. But then she might have missed an opportunity to capture the intruder. Okay, okay, she knew she was just rationalizing, and that as rationales went, it wasn’t a great one. Still, no one had threatened her or made a move to harm her. If they did, she would have no choice but to let Leah and her captain know. Anything less would reflect a serious lack of judgment on her part. She could hear Leah’s voice in her head saying that that ship had already sailed, along with a few of its sisters.

“Hello?” a man’s disembodied voice came from the reception area.

Rory jumped up from the floor where she’d been trying to collate the blizzard of papers. In that instant she realized that she’d left the outer door open as an escape route and had forgotten to close it once she’d confirmed that the intruder was gone. For that matter, she’d also left her handbag out there.

“Who is it?” she called, her hand poised on the hilt of her gun. She tried to place the man’s voice as she positioned herself once more against the wall that separated the two rooms, this time on the opposite side.

“Rory? It’s Jeremy.”

Her hand dropped off the gun as she came around the wall into the reception area.

Jeremy was standing just inside the doorway with a stunned expression that she imagined was pretty similar to the one that she’d worn upon her arrival.

His face was flushed, and he was wearing shorts and sneakers and a tee shirt that clung to his chest in dark patches of sweat.

“Was there a burglary?” he asked, crossing the room to her. “Were you here when it happened? Are you all right?” His voice ratcheted up a notch with each question.

“I’m fine. I came in after the fact.”

Standing beside her now, Jeremy could see into the inner office. He shook his head as if rendered speechless by the view. “What on earth were they looking for?” he murmured finally.

“I have no idea.” Rory bent to pick up her purse and set it on the desk. “I don’t think anything’s missing. It could be they had the wrong address.” Privately she didn’t think that was the case, but she didn’t want to make Jeremy more agitated than he already seemed to be. She really didn’t have time to do any serious hand-holding.

“Do you think they were after the file on Gail?” he asked.

“There’s no way to know for sure. But if that’s what they were after, they must be disappointed, because I have it at home.”

Jeremy bobbed his head and chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “Whoever murdered her might want to know what your investigation’s turned up so far.”

“Whoa,” Rory said. “Let’s back up a bit there. I know you’re convinced your sister was murdered, but I have yet to find any real evidence of that.”

“You haven’t discovered anything worthwhile then?”

“I would have told you if I had,” she said, a sharpening edge to her tone. She was beginning to feel as if she was being questioned, and she didn’t like the experience one bit.

Jeremy’s tone became conciliatory. “It’s just that I wouldn’t want you to get hurt or anything on my account.”

“I don’t intend to get hurt on anyone’s account,” Rory assured him. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Oh, uh, no, not really. I just went for a run in Hecksher Park and figured I’d stop in, see if you were here, say ‘hello.’ ”

“I’m afraid it’s not the best time for a visit.” She couldn’t help thinking that it was awfully coincidental for Jeremy to have chosen this particular day and time to stop by.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I’ll give you a call as soon as I actually have some news.” She took Jeremy’s arm and piloted him to the door.

He stopped at the threshold. “Look, I’m sorry if I came across a little too pushy there. I know you have a ton of other stuff on your plate. And you—”

“That’s okay,” Rory said, hoping to end the discussion.

“You have no idea how grateful I am that you’re even helping me with this investigation.”

“I’ll call you soon with an update.”

“Right. Right, thanks.”

Rory closed and locked the door as soon as his feet had cleared the doorway. She glanced at her watch. It was almost six and Vince Conti was picking her up for dinner at seven. As much as she hated to leave the office in its present state of disorder, the rest of the cleanup was going to have to wait.

R
ory jumped into the shower as soon as she got home. Although she was pressed for time, she took a few minutes to simply stand there and let the warm water cascade over her. She could feel the muscles in her neck and shoulders relax as the tension from the office break-in began to drain out of her. She’d never been more grateful that Mac had renovated the bath-been more grateful that Mac had renovated the bathroom with every modern amenity, particularly the state-of-the-art shower with multiple heads. As much as she loved historic homes, it was hard to summon up any nostalgia for the old claw-footed tub that had been there when he’d bought the house.

She would have loved to linger there in a semi-hypnotic water trance, but it wouldn’t be right to cancel her dinner date with Vince at such a late hour. Unexpectedly, she found that thinking about him seemed to reinvigorate her. If she ever made the mistake of telling her mother about that, she would no doubt receive the overly dramatic “this could be the one” speech. Rory didn’t subscribe to the theory that there was necessarily a perfect someone out there for her, but she understood how her mother might feel comforted by the thought.

She quickly washed and loofahed, shampooed and conditioned her hair, and was in the process of shaving her legs when the lights in the bathroom fluttered. Muttering some mild obscenities about “bad timing,” she dropped the razor, turned off the water and grabbed the bath towel that she’d left on the heating rack just outside the shower stall. She pulled the door to the stall shut and was still in the process of wrapping the towel around herself when Zeke appeared beside the sink. The frosted glass between them made him look distinctly more wraithlike, as if in his haste he’d left some important molecules behind.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped. “We had a deal.” The bedroom and bath were supposed to be her private sanctuary. Of course, as long as he remained invisible, he could violate her trust and she would never be the wiser. That thought led her to wonder just how long he might have been there watching her before he chose to show himself. In the name of sanity, she pushed the thought out of her head.

“Oh, right, sorry.”

Rory couldn’t see his face too clearly, but she decided that he sounded adequately contrite. It was a first offense after all. And maybe he really had forgotten. She had no idea whether ghosts had good memories or not.

“Okay, okay,” she said grudgingly. “Now that you’re here, what’s so important that it couldn’t have waited until I finished my shower?” And shaved my other leg, she added to herself. She’d have to remember to take care of that before Vince arrived.

“I’m worried about you. You’re as stubborn a female as I’ve ever known, and I don’t think you’re takin’ my warnin’ to heart. But if you keep pokin’ around into Gail’s death, you’re more than likely gonna wind up like Mac.”

“Your concern is touching,” Rory said dryly, “but right now I’m more likely to die of haunting than of anything else.” Her heart was still beating a ragged tattoo from his unexpected appearance.

Although the towel now covered her more than most bathing suits did, she remained in the shower. If she stepped out, she’d be less than an arm’s length away from Zeke. The bathroom might be modern and well appointed, but it was cramped with even one occupant. Mac had considered enlarging it, but that would have meant taking away the one small closet in the master bedroom. Not a reasonable option when the house had such little closet space to begin with.

She drew her arms around herself as the heat from the shower dissipated and the central air blew across her wet skin and hair.

“I don’t know you long,” Zeke said, either unable to see her discomfort or unmoved by it, “but I think I know you some. You’re still baitin’ the devil, ain’t you?”

“Well, that depends. Which devil would you be referring to?”

“You know darn well what I’m talkin’ about. I thought we agreed you’d hold off on interviewin’ anymore suspects till you had a chance to check out the crime scene proper.”

“That’s strange,” Rory said, wanting nothing more than a dry towel and some clothes, “because I don’t recall agreeing to any such thing.” The minutes were ticking away, and soon one unshaved leg was going to be the least of her problems when Vince arrived.

“Damn it, woman, why do you have to be so all-fired difficult? I’m only tryin’ to help you.”

Hearing the exasperation in his voice, Rory had to admit that she was enjoying his frustration. After all, why should she be the only who was stressed by their relationship?

“If you really want to help me right now,” she said, “get out of here and wait downstairs so I can get dressed.”

She was surprised when he winked out of sight without argument. She set the towel aside and turned on the water, running the razor quickly over the unshaven leg. Once she was dry, she pulled on her favorite lavender and white sundress and strappy white sandals. She blew her hair dry in under five minutes, a new personal best, and applied a few strokes of mascara and some pale lip gloss to complete the look. She was on her way downstairs with five minutes to spare.

Zeke was in the living room waiting for her. He was seated in his usual spot in the chair across from the couch, one long leg atop the other at a right angle, tapping his hand on the side of the raised boot. Rory noted the look of surprised approval that crossed his face when she entered the room. She realized that he’d never seen her dressed to go anywhere other than to work or to run errands. While it was always nice to be noticed, she had no intention of letting the unspoken compliment soften her attitude.

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight here,” she said without preface, taking a seat on the couch. “I’ve never given you reason to assume that I’d be willing to follow your suggestions or directives.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve given me every reason to believe that you’re as smart as Mac said you were.”

“Meaning that I should be smart enough to listen to you, I suppose?”

Zeke shook his head in frustration. “Meanin’ that you oughta know when you’re puttin’ yourself in harm’s way. Near as I can recall, Mac never mentioned you had a death wish.”

“Oh, come on now,” Rory said. “That’s a little over-the-top, even for you.”

The doorbell chimed before Zeke could respond.

“That’d be your suitor,” he said tersely, making no effort to hide his irritation. “You need to tell him you’re busy. We haven’t finished talkin’ about this yet.”

“I won’t do anything of the kind,” Rory sputtered indignantly. “Didn’t you hear me say that I don’t intend to take orders from you? You’re going to have to make peace with that fact, or you’re going to be very unhappy.”

Zeke’s jaw clenched shut, and Rory was sorry that she’d come down so hard on him. He was suffering from his own demons, and she had a feeling she didn’t know half of them.

“Look,” she went on more kindly, “I need to eat, and to be honest, I could use a break from all of this. It’s not as if I’m going to do anything rash over dinner.”

Zeke didn’t reply. He rose out of the chair, vanishing halfway through the motion and leaving Rory to feel as if he’d metaphorically hung up on her.