A Murderous Game (32 page)

When the pasta was ready, they sat
at the counter to eat.

"So how was dinner with your
parents yesterday?" Rachael asked. "Was your dad his usual
insult-a-minute endearing self?"

Abby had been trying hard not to
think about her father's rejection. She didn't understand why he didn't love
her, but she wasn't going to let it ruin her life. She couldn't make him care
any more than she could sprout wings and fly.

She tried to come up with a witty
rejoinder, but nothing came to mind. Her shoulders drooped.

"Was it that bad?"
Rachael asked with feeling.

Abby shook her head and said as she
looked away, "He was the way he always is, you know." She wrapped her
arms around her waist. "I can't have a relationship with him anymore.
Maybe he'll mellow when he gets older, and things will be different, but I just
can't do it now."

"I'm sorry I brought it up. We
don't have to talk about it unless you want to."

"Let's
not."

Rachael nodded. "Okay. So your
dad's out, Gage is out, and that piece of yellow journalism in
The Dish
is out. Does that leave anything in your life you do want to talk about?"

Abby laughed.
"Can't
think of anything.
What about you?"

"I did have an odd thing
happen on Friday." Rachael wiggled further back onto the stool and crossed
her legs. "When I went to my car to leave the station, there was this
baggie, like a sandwich bag, under the windshield wiper. So I take it out,
right? And inside is a picture that looked like Selby."

"
Your
Selby?"

"Yeah, I thought it was
curious. I mean, why would someone put a picture that looked like my dog on my
car? But nobody was around and nothing came of it."

Abby suppressed a shudder.
"That's kind of freaky,
Rach
. Maybe you should
report it."

"What, like to the cops? What
am I supposed to say? Someone put a picture that looks like my dog under the
windshield wiper of my car? I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Whoever put it
there probably just had the wrong car and intended it for someone who would
know what it was supposed to mean."

Instead of dismissing it as a fluke
as Rachael apparently intended to do, Abby was already imagining several
different scenarios, some harmless, some not. She didn't want to be an
alarmist, but she also thought
Rach
might want to be
a little more careful than normal, at least for a while. In all likelihood it
was a prank, or as Rachael said, a case of mistaken cars, but what if it
wasn't?

"Maybe," Abby said,
"but it wouldn't hurt to take some extra precautions when you're leaving
work at night. Has anything else odd happened lately? Hang ups, that kind of
thing?"

Rachael waved her hand in the air.
"No, nothing, so don't start worrying. It's not like I found a picture of
a woman in chains. It was a dog, a cute little dog, nothing sinister."

"Well, maybe you should have
someone walk out to your car with you if it's dark when you leave your
building."

"Fine, I'll enlist one of the
camera crew to play my personal guard. Now stop worrying. If I'd known you were
going to get all spooky about it, I wouldn't have told you." Rachael
twirled some pasta around her fork and took a bite. "This is really good,
Ab
. Do you have any parmesan cheese?"

Abby nodded and slid off the stool
to get it. "Okay, so another topic bites the dust. I suppose when we're
done eating we can take our wine into the living room and stare at each other
the rest of the night."

Rachael flashed a smile.
"That's one of the great things about being such good friends. We don't
even have to talk, and we can still enjoy each other's company."

Abby returned to the counter and
picked up her wine glass. She raised it to Rachael.

"Let the good times
roll," she said dryly.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

H
arold Billings walked off
the elevator in front of Abby the next day when she was leaving for lunch. She
slowed her step, lagging back until he'd crossed the lobby and exited the
building.

He hadn't said anything to her
about the article in Friday's paper, but every time he looked at her she could
see the mocking humor in his eyes, the smug enjoyment he derived at her
expense.

She felt a burst of annoyance when
she got outside and saw Billings
standing on the sidewalk in front of their building. He had his back to her and
was talking to a man who seemed vaguely familiar. Harold hadn't approached her
in the office, but he might be more inclined when none of their coworkers could
observe him. 

Hoping to avoid an encounter, she
began to turn in the other direction. She cast a parting glance at the other
man, positive she'd seen him somewhere before. He looked up at that moment, and
their eyes met. He said something, and Billings
looked over his shoulder at her.

Who was he? Had they met before?
Perhaps he'd been one of Dick's acquaintances. That would make sense since he
and Billings
had been such good friends and probably had friends in common.

Harold gave her a mock salute.
Lifting her chin, she turned away from them and started down the block. Whoever
the guy was, she had no interest in finding out if they'd met at some previous
time. He had a slimy aura, like he'd crawled around in a big pile of garbage
and had absorbed the stench. She looked back once to make sure they weren't
following her and was relieved to see they'd moved on, heading in the opposite
direction she had.

Good, she thought, and slowed her
step. Despite the uncontrollable events responsible for the giant cloud that
had gathered over her life, the day had dawned bright and sunny, and the
beautiful spring weather was as good as chocolate for her spirits.

Gage had called late last night to
tell her he hoped to wrap things up in Chicago
by
midafternoon
and be back in Philadelphia later tonight. She was anxious
to see him. She'd missed him terribly.

The last couple of days had been
difficult. She'd gotten through them, mostly by refusing to think about the
article in
The Dish
, or her father, or her tenuous position at work. She
was still worried about being a suspect in Dick's murder, but Gage seemed to
think Detective Simms had changed his mind about her, and she'd begun to hope
that problem would work itself out.

The situation with her dad hurt her
deeply. Who didn't want their parent's love? She swallowed the lump in her
throat. She wouldn't dwell on it. If he couldn't appreciate her, then it was
his loss.

Her biggest concern at the moment
was the press. If nothing else came of Friday's article, she could deal with
it. In time people would focus their attention elsewhere. Some new scandal
would snare their interest and she'd be able to melt into the background with
the rest of the normal people.

Let that be the end of it.

She ducked into a deli near

As she was finishing her lunch,
Gage called on her cell phone.

"I'm on my way to the airport.
The board meeting was shorter than expected, and Grace was able to get me an
earlier flight."

He'd be
back
this evening. Abby felt a burst of pure joy, the first she'd had in several
days. "Hello to you, too," she said with a laugh and heard him
chuckle.

"How would you like some
company this evening, say around eight?"

"If the company is you, I'd
enjoy it very much."

"Good, because I was planning
on coming there right from the airport. I packed an extra suit so I can stay
the night and go into the office from your place tomorrow. We can have a pajama
party."

She grinned and hugged herself.
"I think I like it better and better."

"I'd probably prefer to skip
the pajamas."

She laughed again. It felt so good.
He
made her feel good. She tilted her head back, enjoying the warm
fingers of the sun caressing her face. Tonight it would be his fingers
caressing her, his mouth enticing her, his body transporting her to the sensual
world he'd introduced her to.

"Just a minute," he said,
"I've got another call."

Still holding the phone to her ear,
she stood up and with her free hand gathered all the trash from her lunch and
put it into the bag her salad had come in.

Gage came back on the line.
"Sorry, I'm going to have to deal with this. I'll see you around
eight."

On that note he disconnected, and
she clipped her phone onto her waistband and walked back to the office.

~~~

Gage dropped his bag, pushed the
door shut with his foot, and yanked Abby against his chest.

"Christ, I missed you,"
he said fiercely, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss that had both of them
moaning. "Do you have any idea how many times over the last four days I've
thought about doing this?" He ran his hands down her back, over her hips,
resisting the urge to undress her on the spot and make love to her on the
floor.

She lifted up on her toes and
kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. He could taste her desire,
and it fed his hunger, pushing him close to the edge.

"I picked up some dinner,"
she said in a seductive whisper that sounded more like an invitation to
pleasure than for something to eat. If he had to sit through a meal before he
could touch her, he thought he might go mad.

He dipped his head and kissed the
curve of her ear, nibbling and licking until he worked his way to the base of
her neck. He could feel the pulse there beneath his lips—erratic, excited.

"Will it keep?"

She nodded.

"Good." He started
backing her across the room. "Because I don't think I will."

When they reached the stairs to the
second floor, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it over the newel
post. He saw the warm flush spreading over her satin cheeks, and how her eyes
had deepened to an intense green, the way they always did when she became
aroused.

She darted a glance behind her then
looked back at him with a teasing grin. Gage hitched his head toward the
upstairs bedroom.

"Keep right on going,
sweetheart." He loosened the knot in his tie until he was able to pull it
off and dropped it over the rail where it slid down to join his jacket.

With a throaty laugh Abby turned
and sprinted playfully up the stairs. He was right behind her, as anxious as a
horny teenager with his first girl. He had to get control of his rampant
desire, or he'd disappoint them both. He wanted to give her a climax she'd
never forget, one neither of them would forget.

Standing beside the bed, he forced
himself to slow the pace. Taking her face in his hands, he lowered his head and
kissed her softly, running his tongue along the crease of her lips and licking
the corners of her mouth. 

"I missed you, too," she
said almost shyly.

"Nice of you to finally say
so," he teased. "I'd hate to think I'm the only one doing the missing
in this relationship."

She bit her lip. "Of course I
missed you," she admitted softly.

"I know you did, green
eyes," he said, his voice turning tender at her seriousness.

She reached for the buttons on her
blouse and began to unfasten them one by one, glancing up at him through
half-lowered lashes. He knew she had no idea of the devastating effect she had
on his control.

Struggling to keep his vow to go
slow so he could increase both their pleasure, Gage removed his shirt slowly.
He tossed it on the end of the bed then reached for his belt, doing his
damnedest not to appear overanxious.

Abby had removed her clothes, all
except a lacey pink bra with matching lace panties that were cut high on her
slender hips. It took a moment before he realized her expression had changed as
she watched him undress.

"Is something wrong?" he
asked, surprised by what he thought looked like apprehension in her eyes.

"No, I'm—" She kissed his
chest, a quick peck he recognized as an evasive maneuver on her part.

"You're what?" he coaxed,
angling his head so he could look into her eyes.

"Nervous," she blurted,
seeming embarrassed. "I'm just a little nervous."

"What are you nervous
about?" he asked gravely, for he could see she wasn't joking.

"I'm always nervous when we
make love," she admitted to his shock. "Nervous I won't be able to
satisfy you, that you'll end up frustrated and realize I'm not really very good
at it."

He stared at her with his mouth
open. "How can you say you're no good at it when you drive me so crazy
with wanting you I practically attacked you the second I walked through your
front door? I haven't been here ten minutes, and I've already maneuvered you
into the bedroom where I'm intending to spend the next couple of hours making
slow, sensual love to you."

"That's exactly what I mean.
You're used to sensual. You've been with dozens and dozens of women, beautiful,
sexy women who know how to match your experience. I don't have that experience.
You probably know hundreds of ways to increase your partner's pleasure."

"Thousands," he said,
slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders.

"You see, and what do I
know?" She looked down at a spot on the floor near their feet. "I'm
never sure if I'm doing things right, or good enough, or even what the things
are I should be doing."

"All you have to do," he
insisted gently, "is look at what you do to me." He took her hand and
placed her palm on his chest. "I'm so anxious to make love to you right
now it scares me."