A Murderous Game (18 page)

Carpenter turned back to Gage.
"You're in for a big disappointment where my wife is concerned."

Gage straightened to his full
height, which put him about three inches above Carpenter. "She told you to
leave. I think you should do what she says."

"Or what?
You'll make me?" The guy laughed. "You think that'll win points with
her?"

He strutted back towards Abby, and
Gage flinched. "Guess lover boy hasn't gotten you into the sack yet. If he
had, he'd know you weren't worth sniffing around, wouldn't he,
sweetheart?" He clamped his fingers around Abby's chin.

Gage was on the man before he could
take another breath. He grabbed Carpenter by the arm and spun him around.

"You had your chance,"
Gage bit out. "Now it's time to say goodbye."

He hauled him to the door, and with
great relish, pitched him onto the sidewalk. Carpenter landed on his ass. He
got up quickly, dusted himself off, and glared at Gage.

"You'll pay for that, you
prick."

"Send me a bill," Gage
said, and closed the door with a solid thud, securing the deadbolt before
turning back to face Abby.

Her eyes came up to his slowly. He
couldn't begin to interpret everything he saw there. He just knew that wherever
she'd gone, she shouldn't be there alone.

"Are you all right?" He
walked toward her.

"Fine," she said, barely
loud enough for him to hear. He wanted to comfort her but wasn't sure if she'd
let him. He decided to follow his instincts.

"Come here," he said,
spreading his arms. Without hesitation she fell into his embrace. Gage hugged
her against his chest. When he did, something inside him shifted.

~~~

Abby let him surround her. His arms
were a sheltering enclave of warm comfort that asked for nothing, only gave
what she chose to take.

She laid her head against Gage's chest,
over his heart. The sturdy beat of it soothed her. She focused on it.
The pace.
The rhythm.
The sure and steady strength of it.
Lulled, she let her
emotions fall in line with it, calming her.

She could feel his mouth against
her hair, trailing kisses, murmuring close to her ear. Words she couldn't make
out. Better that way, at least for now.

Gently she slipped out of his hold.
"I'm sorry you were subjected to that. Dick had no right to accuse you of
anything. Especially—" She closed her eyes.
"Especially
anything between the two of us."

"Don't apologize. You're not
responsible for his behavior."

"I know." She sighed
wearily. "But I'm still sorry you had to be exposed to our ugliness."

"His," Gage said, lifting
her chin. He looked like he might kiss her, and if not for the knock on the
door at that moment, she thought she'd have willingly gone back into his arms
and let him.

"The pizza," she said
with a shaky smile. And this time it was.

They took the food into the kitchen
to eat. Gage watched her patiently, as if waiting for her to talk more about
what had happened. Instead, she dove into next steps for River Place One. He
let her steer the conversation. She could see the questions in his eyes, but he
didn't press.

Silently, Abby thanked him for
giving her the space she needed. She feared opening up their relationship to
any more intimacy than she'd already allowed without risking a broken heart.

A short while later they agreed to
call it a night. Before opening the door to let him out, Abby put a hand on
Gage's arm. "Thank you for being so understanding about what happened with
Dick."

"Nothing to
understand.
I'll talk to you in a couple of days."

"Okay. And by the way, I think
you were right. We're going to make a great team."

"We already do, Abby." His
mouth covered hers before she saw it coming and in under a minute, their
tempered goodbye turned into a parting of fire. Strictly business became
intimately personal.

They might have stood there for
hours if it had been up to her, but almost as quickly as he'd pulled her to
him, Gage broke the kiss and stepped back.

"Goodnight, green eyes."
He chucked her under the chin and opened the door. Abby stood in the doorway
and watched him go. Gage looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Think
about me," he said, then strolled down the sidewalk, his hands in his
pockets.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

I
t took very little effort
for Harold Billings to shove Abby right off the proverbial wagon. He was so
naturally despicable, that despite earlier promises of abstinence, her murderous
bent thrived. She'd killed him Monday. She'd killed him Tuesday, and Wednesday
was shaping up to be a bloody day as well.

She trailed a thumb nail back and
forth over her mouth. All week she'd been out of sorts. She could no longer
deny her feelings for Gage. She was falling in love with him all over again,
and she didn't seem to have any choice in the matter.

Only now he didn't chuck her chin,
hand her a bag of taffy, and send her on her way with a wink. Oh, no. Now
before he chucked her under the chin and sent her on her way, he dragged her
hard up against his muscular chest, possessed her mouth, and gave her a very
different kind of treat.

She groaned, disgusted with herself
for not being able to go twenty minutes without thinking of him. She'd better
concentrate on recreating the ad outline she'd prepared to review with him.

Misplacing her file on GFI only
proved how distracted she'd become. She never lost things. Once again she tried
to remember where she could have put it. The last she remembered seeing it had
been Monday night. She'd taken a break to make tea and distinctly recalled
setting it down on the trunk. She could see herself doing it in her head.

Just like now, she'd been having
trouble concentrating and had thought a diversion might help. She'd started
reading her old diary and gotten carried away with it. Several hours later
she'd jerked awake from some crazy dream to find she'd fallen asleep in the
club chair. The next morning, running late as usual, she'd dashed off to work
and forgotten her notes.

Now they'd gone missing, along with
the diary. She must have picked them up and put them somewhere that night, but
where? She frowned. They'd show up sooner or later, but in the meantime she'd
just have to make up a new outline.

Abby heard Billings laugh and looked out into the hall.
Fabulous
,
she thought, her two favorite people to dislike. Before she could look away and
avoid eye contact, Dick stuck his head into her office.

"You and I have some things to
talk about," he said, his eyes cold as they flicked over her. "I'm
coming by the townhouse tonight. Be alone when I do."

Abby swallowed back a thread of
apprehension before reminding herself he didn't have any power over her
anymore. "Anything we had to settle was handled by our lawyers," she
told him. "There's no reason for you to come over. There's nothing left
for us to discuss, and I've already boxed up and mailed all your things back to
you."

If at all possible his eyes grew
colder. "Oh, but we do have something to discuss. You held back on me, and
I'm not at all pleased about that." He straightened away from the door.
"Tonight," he said, "and don't do something stupid like call
your boyfriend."

Dick turned and left with Billings before she could
object further. What could he possibly want now? And what did he mean she'd
held back on him? She'd met all his demands just to get out of their excuse for
a marriage, even giving him the Florida
property.

If he thought he could walk into
her life anytime he felt like it and push her around, he had another think
coming. She'd call him that afternoon and tell him if he didn't stay away from
her, she'd slap a restraining order on him.

She followed through and called
Dick a couple of hours later, but he was in a meeting, so she asked to be put
through to his voicemail and left a very clear message what she would do if he
came by.

~~~

The rain that accompanied her on
her morning commute had clung to the day with tenacious tentacles, unwilling to
loosen its hold. Rather than wait for a cab, which might be twenty or thirty
minutes at this time of day, Abby decided to take the high-speed train line to
Eighth and Market and walk the remaining blocks to Third and
Delancey
.

Her new compact purse umbrella
decorated with Monet's
Water Lilies
turned out to be a lot prettier than it was functional. By the time she got
home she was drenched. After taking a hot shower, she put on some sweats, and
not feeling very hungry, settled on a tuna sandwich for dinner.

She'd tried to reach Gage that
afternoon as he'd requested, but every time she phoned he was in a meeting.
Finally, around six thirty, she left a message with Grace that she was leaving
for the day and would call him Thursday morning.

He called her at home around eight
to say he'd just gotten out of a meeting that had been scheduled to end at six.

"If you're not too tired, I
could drive to your place and meet with you now. I didn't have lunch, though,
so unless I get some food soon, I won't be in a very good mood. If you haven't
eaten yet, I can pick up something for both of us."

It had been three days since she'd
seen him and she missed him, a clear warning she was getting in deep. She was
also worried Dick might ignore her threat and come over anyway. It had been bad
enough he'd showed up the last time Gage was there. She didn't want to risk the
embarrassment of an encore.

"Actually I am a little
tired," she said, "and I already made myself dinner. In fact I just
finished eating."

"Oh yeah?
I got the impression you couldn't cook. I think you mentioned something about
that once."

Abby frowned. "I can manage a
few simple things."

"How simple?" he asked,
sounding amused.

"Tuna on
whole wheat.
If I really feel like stretching my gourmet muscle, I'll
add a slice of tomato. And if I'm shooting for the cover of
Bon
Appetit
, I'll throw on a couple of spinach leaves and
surround it with a bed of potato chips."

His laughter made her smile.
"Go ahead and laugh, Mr. Faraday," she said, pretending to be
offended, "but I'll have you know one night last week I made myself rosemary
roasted chicken with red bliss potatoes, green beans almandine, and cherry
crumble for dessert."

He was quiet a moment then said,
"I'm impressed.
Banquet
?"

"
Stouffers
," she
admitted, "but the idea to grind fresh pepper on the chicken was entirely
mine."

"I miss you, green eyes."
His voice had turned low and warm and undeniably sexy.

Abby shook herself. "I don't
have any appointments tomorrow afternoon. We could meet then if you're
free," she said, trying to keep the conversation on business.

"So tonight's out?"

"If you
don't mind.
It's getting a little late."

"No problem," his tone
became brisk. "I'll be tied up part of the day but expect to be back in
the afternoon. Why don't you come to my office at three?"

"Let me just check
something." She pulled her day planner out of her briefcase and flipped it
open. "Actually, I do have a client coming in at one thirty, but that
shouldn't take more than an hour. Why don't we say three thirty? I shouldn't
have any trouble making it by then."

"Three thirty then," he
agreed. "I'll block off the rest of the afternoon."

After hanging up, she sank into the
chair and leaned her head against the cushion. She had thought life would get
easier once her divorce went through. But then, she hadn't counted on Gage
showing up to complicate things. She stretched her arms over her head and
clasped her hands together.

Standing up, she bent to the right,
feeling the muscles pull along her side. She took a deep breath and then let it
out as she came back up slowly and then bent left, stretching again.

There was no use pretending she
hadn't already gotten too involved with him. She gave her shoulders a roll then
picked up her sandwich plate and carried it into the kitchen.

Maybe she should just stop worrying
about what might happen and go with the flow. Life would deal whatever cards it
chose, and she'd have to figure out how to play them when it did. Even if she
succeeded in keeping their relationship on a professional level, she knew she'd
always wonder what it would have been like to love and be loved by Gage.

A stronger force than she seemed to
be pulling them together, and she was tired of fighting it. She'd tried and
failed. She wanted to experience what he offered, even if it couldn't last.
Yes, it would suck when things ended, but it wasn't like her life had been much
of a laugh fest lately anyway.

She was miserable not giving in to
her emotions, so how much worse could it be if she did? The answer didn't seem
to justify giving up on a dream she'd had since she was fifteen, and in that
moment the battle between her head and heart ended.

When she crawled into bed later
that night, Abby felt at peace. Go ahead life, she thought with a slight smile,
deal me a new hand. I've decided to play. She closed her eyes and slept
soundly. Her dreams were sweet.

Two days later Dick was dead.
Really dead
.

CHAPTER
NINE

"
I
realize this is
difficult, Mrs. Carpenter." The detective leaned forward, pen in one hand,
notepad in the other. "If you could answer the questions, though, we'll
try not to keep you any longer than necessary."