Twisted Hunger (13 page)

* * *

Terrell nodded gravely at Gregory Yates, while wondering how soon he could walk away without being rude. If Jones hadn’t personally introduced them with instructions that they should “become acquainted”, he wouldn’t be hesitating. As it was though, the senator was insistent that Yates might have some insight that could be beneficial in solving the Neuman murder.

“People need to be taught that sexual preference is not always a matter of choice. Basic studies in genetics prove that a person can be born in a male body with what is traditionally considered feminine personality traits and vice-versa. You never hear someone suggest that a person
chose
to be born with a physical challenge. That person evokes compassion. Yet a homosexual evokes hatred, despite the fact that he or she has merely been born with a different kind of
abnormality
. Mind you, I use that word only because that is how some extremists see it.”

“So you’re convinced that the murder in Santa Monica was an act of persecution,” Terrell interjected the moment Gregory paused to take a breath. “That theory isn’t being ruled out, but we haven’t come up with anything to support it either.”

Yates immediately launched into a review of all the other incidents that had occurred in recent months, which somehow led him back to what S.P.I.C.E. was doing to educate people about the situation.

Terrell continued to nod when it seemed appropriate. He didn’t have a problem with a man being homosexual, as long as he didn’t try to convert him. Yates spoke earnestly without getting pushy, but he’d been going on for ten minutes without saying anything Terrell hadn’t heard before.

Why had Senator Jones wanted them to talk?

It would certainly make Sheriff Patterson happy if the murder could be chalked up to a random act of violence against a homosexual. The sheriff had made no secret of his wish to keep the case contained within the department. Terrell recalled how adamant he had been about not involving the FBI, even though the M.O. was similar to others. When Terrell had suggested the possibility that it could be a serial killing, the sheriff’s face had actually turned red.

The only other time the sheriff had interfered in one of his cases was when a foreign counsel was involved. He hadn’t liked it, but he’d understood.
Politics.

Terrell had told Luke politics were involved in this case. What he didn’t tell him, however, was that he couldn’t figure out why. He had personally handled hundreds of homicides, many of which were gruesome, but never once had one of California’s senators wanted to meet him and discuss his progress, or purposely tried to direct him toward a solution.

Why was Jones so interested in this case?

It occurred to him that the answer could be tied in with the senator’s hopes for the vice presidency, but his gut wasn’t satisfied with that.

His gaze moved across the dance floor, and he saw Luke and Maria together. Though he had tried not to encourage his old friend, Terrell was just as certain as Luke that Neuman’s murder was committed by the same woman who’d killed Pablo twenty-one years ago. As improbable as it seemed, his gut told him there was a connection. And if there was, Luke was in as much danger today as he was back then. Terrell wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish it, but he had to convince Luke to go home before he stuck his neck out so far that he became another statistic.

Chapter 7

“You promised we could get reacquainted tonight.”

Ellery smiled at Brandon. “I know I did, but it’s very late and I’m absolutely exhausted. Maybe tomorrow—”

He touched his finger to her lips. “Come up to my room, just for a little while, and I’ll give you the best foot massage you’ve ever had.”

She chuckled. “You always did know exactly what to say to lure a girl away from her good intentions. All right. A half-hour, no more.”

Brandon’s hand rested lightly on the small of her back as they walked to the elevator, and she had no reason to object to that small familiarity. When the elevator doors opened, she paused to prepare herself for the trip.

It took him a moment to remember about her phobia. Holding the doors open, he saw her hesitate to enter and said, “I’m sorry. I forgot. We could take the stairs.”

“What floor are you on?”

He grimaced. “Eleven.”

“I’d never make it,” she said, stepping inside the mirrored box. “Anyway, I do this a lot better since someone taught me a few tricks.” Finding a way to cope with her multiple fears had become mandatory in Washington. She took a small penlight out of her sequined bag. Noting his curious expression, she explained, “I’m always ready in case the power goes out. I usually carry something much sturdier, but this one’s for evening wear.”

“It’s not a suite,” he said, purposefully leaping away from such a heavy subject as her neuroses. “But they assured my manager that I would have complete privacy.”

“With all the celebrities here tonight, it’s a wonder you even got a room at the last minute.”

Pressing the button for his floor, he grinned and winked at her. “It’s amazing how easily things can be rearranged when you’re famous… or when you’re
with
someone who is.”

She couldn’t tell if he was referring to her being with him, Senator Jones or both.

As the elevator began to rise, she felt her stomach constrict sharply and she forced herself to take slow, steady breaths while reciting the multiplication tables.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked in a hopeful tone.

She could see that her fear was making him nervous—he’d never been very good at taking care of others—but she was too busy calming herself to worry about him. Neither uttered another word as they ascended to the eleventh floor, then both exhaled with relief when the doors opened without delay.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asked as soon as they were in his room. “The refrigerator has a fair selection, or I can call room service.”

“A club soda or ginger ale would be fine. My stomach’s been in a knot all day.” Pretending not to notice the king-size bed that took up most of the room, she sat down on one of the two chairs at the dinette table in the corner.

She noted the flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
Men!
He undoubtedly thought they were going to take up right where they left off four years ago. She supposed her coming up to his room signaled a certain willingness on her part, and they
had
had sex every other time they’d been alone in a room together, so she really couldn’t fault him for assuming they’d end up in bed again. What he didn’t realize, however, was how much she had changed since those carefree, spontaneous days. She could no longer afford to act as she pleased without considering the future consequences.

Brandon brought her a glass of soda and a drink for himself. Before sitting down, he repositioned his chair so that he could place her feet across his thighs.

She groaned aloud when he slipped off her heels and dropped them on the floor. Even though he’d made the offer, she thought he might have just said it to get her upstairs. As his thumb rubbed the ache out of her right arch, she wiggled her toes and said, “I’ll give you an hour to stop that.”

He gave her the sexy smile that had earned him a fortune. “I’ve thought of you so often.” When she gave him a look of disbelief, he protested. “I have. I even called your mom once when I was in San Francisco.”

“She told me. She also told me she gave you my phone number in Washington.”

His fingers began working on her toes. “I meant to call… but something always sidetracked me.”

She grinned. “Something, or someone?”

He shrugged lightly. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, but I
am
sorry we lost touch. Tell me what you’ve been doing. I thought Washington was where you wanted to be. How did you end up back in California, in the senator’s office?”

While he continued to bring her feet and calves back to life, she gave him an encapsulated version of her slow but steady progression up the political ladder, manufacturing a lie about her current position. He seemed interested, even asked a few questions, but she sensed a tenseness about him. Was he nervous about something or just anxious to get past what he would consider the necessary preliminaries? Brevowski’s warning echoed in her mind but she pushed it aside.

She told him about her mother’s death and was pleased that he remembered Audrey fondly. “And how is your family?” she asked, not wanting to dwell on a sad note.

As he told her about his sister’s and brother’s attempts to break into the film industry, she finally began to relax. She had always enjoyed Brandon’s company, despite the fact that his head occasionally got too big for his perfectly developed body. It took a very large ego to do what he did, and she had since discovered that most politicians were afflicted with the same problem.

When she first met him she was a bit star struck, but she soon became aware of his numerous character flaws. Nevertheless, they usually had a good time together, both in and out of bed. Back then, that was all she was looking for from a man. Her mother’s experiences had taught her not to expect anything more.

Eventually, she realized if she wanted to remain a single woman and pursue a career in politics, she needed to be extremely careful about her personal affairs. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t had an intimate relationship with a man since she left for Washington over two years ago.

“And then the two-headed creatures beamed me aboard their spaceship and took me to their home planet.”

Ellery’s eyelids rose abruptly and she saw him grinning at her. Had she dozed off? “I am so sorry, Brandon. I did tell you I was exhausted.” She moved her feet off his lap and stood up. “I really need to be going.”

“I have a better idea,” he said, rising and drawing her into his embrace. “Sleep here,” he whispered. “With me.” His head dipped down and he brushed his lips lightly over hers.

He drew her body closer and deepened the caress, making her remember what a great kisser he was. Of course he was, her common sense shouted, he’s had enough practice to be the best in the world. He moved his hips against hers, and she was reminded of just how long it had been since she last felt a man moving inside her.

What if someone from the press saw me get into the elevator with Brandon? With all the big names in the hotel, reporters probably paid hotel employees to report on who spent the night where and with whom.

Ellery eased away from Brandon. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Especially not here, tonight. I probably shouldn’t have come up here at all. There’s no telling what someone could make of this.”

He took a deep breath and brought her hand up to his heart. “Anyone who’s interested would find out we’re old friends. You’re not ashamed that we were lovers, are you?”

He looked so hurt she was tempted to show him how untrue that was. “Of course not. But that was a long time ago and I can’t risk… any
complications
in my life right now.”

“I don’t want to complicate your life, but now that I’m with you again, I don’t want to just walk away either.” He took another slow breath and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’ve been with a lot of women over the years. I can’t deny that. But you’re the only one I can’t forget.”

Ellery swallowed hard and blinked at the handsome man standing before her. Those words couldn’t possibly have come out of the mouth of the Brandon Ross she knew. “Brandon, I… if you meant that… I’d be extremely flattered, but it sounds like a line to get me to sleep with you, and I don’t understand why you would do that. We were always completely honest with each other before.”

He cradled her face in his hands. “And I’m being completely honest with you now. I’m tired of playing musical beds. And whenever I think of settling down, yours is the only face that comes to mind. If you have to leave now to protect your reputation or your job or whatever, then go, but spend the day with me tomorrow. Give me a chance—no, give
us
a chance to see if there’s a reason why I can’t forget you… a chance to see if we could be more than old friends.”

His words were so sincere, his voice almost desperate with need. His lips expertly nuzzled her neck and she couldn’t help but agree to spend the next day with him, as long as he let her choose their itinerary. Under no circumstances were they going to spend time alone in a hotel room. In her present situation, she could not afford to have her brains scrambled even for one afternoon. Before she left he kissed her again, and it was almost good enough to make her change her mind. Almost, but not quite.