A Murderous Game (8 page)

"Is that right?" He shot
her a glance, and she almost sighed with relief at the humor she saw in that
quick meeting of the eyes. "You seem to be very well-read on the subject
of sleep deprivation. I gather it's something you're interested in?"

She smiled.
"Apparently."

The things that had been written
about him were wrong. If he was really the cold, calculating man he'd been
depicted as in all those articles, he wouldn't be so likable.

"Thank you for driving me
home. It was very considerate."

He braked at the next stop sign and
looked across the seat at her. "You're welcome." They sat there for
several seconds, neither speaking, his expression looking thoughtful as he
studied her. She'd never been good with long silences. They made her imagine
things—crazy, dangerous, impossible things.

Needing to ease the tension pulsing
between them, or maybe just through her, she said, "It's not very fair of
you, though. You're racking up favors, and I'm afraid I'll end up owing you big
time if you keep it up."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure
I'll find a way to collect." His words, although she knew held no hidden
meaning, sparked a whole new fantasy, one Abby would never allow herself to act
out.

CHAPTER
FOUR

"
M
y offer stands. If
Burns still insists it's too low, tell him I said it's been a pleasure doing
business and extend my best wishes finding another buyer."

Gage hung up the phone and went out
to the lobby. He hadn't been in the office an hour and already Brett had called
about a harassment charge against one of their senior managers, Grace had called
to inform him she was at the emergency room with a possible broken ankle, and
the owner of the leasing company he'd hoped to finalize a deal with two weeks
ago had decided to play hardball.

He flipped through Grace's card
file until he found the temporary agency she'd recommended. Glancing toward the
two empty desks on the other side of the lobby, he frowned. Where the hell was
the rest of the administrative staff?

He needed coffee. There wasn't any.
Grace always had it made before he got in. He didn't have time to be traipsing
down to the lobby cafe to get a damn cup of coffee. The elevator bell rang and
he spun around, his face taut.

"It's good of you two to
finally show up." He leveled a cool gaze on Barbara and Carol, the young
secretaries who stood rooted to a spot on the carpet just in front of the
elevator doors. Both of whom, he noticed, had
their
coffee.

"Would one of you care to
explain why you're strolling in at—" He checked his watch. "Eight
fifteen?"

The women looked at each other,
their identical expressions a study in nervous apprehension. They should be
nervous. In his current mood he felt tempted to confirm one or two of the
atrocities they believed him capable of.

Barbara bit her lip. "W-we
don't start until eight
th
-thirty, sir."

Gage fingered the card in his hand.
Damn. He knew that. If he hadn't spent such a sleepless night, waking in sweats
and frustratingly aroused from lustful dreams of Abigail Carpenter, he probably
would have remembered before making an ass of himself. He gave the women a
sidelong glance. Carol looked on the verge of getting sick or bursting into
tears, neither of which he cared to witness.
Hell
.

"Did you know lack of sleep
can cause memory loss?" They stared at him as if they weren't sure they
should respond and didn't want to chance saying the wrong thing if they did.

He put a hand in his pocket and
sighed. "Grace is at the emergency room with a possible broken
ankle." He crossed the lobby and handed the card he'd pulled to Barbara.
"This is the employment agency she recommended. See if you can get a temp
over here this morning."

Taking his wallet out of his back
pocket, he removed a five. "I haven't had any coffee yet, and I could
really use a cup right now." He looked at Carol. "Would you mind
going back downstairs to get me one?"

She nodded and took the money, her
eyes wide and uncertain. He felt like an ogre.

"Thank you." He gave a
half smile, then turned and went into his office. Anything more and they
probably would have thought they'd gotten off on the wrong floor.

Grace showed up two hours later
sporting a wrapped ankle and walking with a crutch. "It's only a
sprain," she explained when Gage told her she shouldn't have come in.
"The crutch is just for sympathy."

"Barbara and Carol asked me if
you were feeling all right," she said a short time later as she waited for
him to proof a bid she'd just prepared. Gage glanced up at her and hiked a
brow. "They said you smiled at them this morning."

He grinned sheepishly. "Tell
them they must have imagined it. It's bad for the image."

"Can't have that," she
said with a chuckle, "can we?"

Gage flipped to the second page and
scanned the numbers. "Matt's going to be here in about twenty minutes.
We'll probably be tied up for a couple of hours."

"You want to make it a working
lunch?"

"You got it." He returned
the bid. "This is fine; go ahead and send it out." When Grace left,
he made a list of concerns he needed to discuss with Matt.

After meeting with his Chief of
Security, he'd call Norwell about his decision. He'd intended to call yesterday
but hadn't had five minutes to himself before Abby showed up.

He was anxious to see her again
tonight. He liked her. He liked her humor. He liked her spirit. And he wanted
her, wanted her in a way he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore.

He hadn't been with a woman since
breaking things off with Shelly over six months ago. Not that anyone would know
it from the gossip columns. He shook his head. It amazed him people actually
believed all that shit. Hell, he'd have to be taking Viagra intravenously to
satisfy all the women he'd supposedly slept with. No one had that kind of
stamina, but the truth was so damn boring no one would want to read it.

Gage frowned. How much had Abby
read about his personal life in her research, or rather his personal life as
portrayed by the press? He'd stopped reading most of it years ago. He couldn't
waste his time worrying about baseless rumors; they'd always be out there. The
select few he counted as friends knew him well enough to know the truth, but Abby
wouldn't, and if she chose to believe some sensationalized account of his
lifestyle without giving him the benefit of the doubt, he refused to defend
himself.

He couldn't believe he was
considering a relationship with her. It surprised him he didn't feel more
conflicted about getting involved with a business associate, given he'd never
allowed it to happen before.

Of course Abby might reject his
advances, a very real possibility that could prove disastrous. Not only would
he feel like a fool, she could refuse to work with him, something he'd be
unwilling to accept even if it made her uncomfortable. He recognized talent
when he saw it, and he wanted that talent behind the campaign.

"Looks serious," Matt
said from the doorway.

Gage rubbed his jaw. "Time
will tell," he said, and with no intention of saying more, picked up the
list he'd been working on before thoughts of Abby had distracted him.

For the next hour and a half he and
Matt reviewed security details. They took a fifteen minute break when lunch arrived
and had only been working a short time again when Brett called to give Gage an
update.

"They've got a witness who's a
desk clerk at the Lincoln
hotel who saw Matheson and the woman there on several occasions," Brett
informed him. "George swears the woman came on to him, and the only reason
she was crying harassment now was because he tried to end it."

"You told me this morning he
denied any involvement with her."

"He did. Now that they've got
a witness he's changing his story. It doesn't look good, Gage. I think
Matheson's lying, and the woman in question said two of her coworkers confided
to her that George pressured them for sex at the risk of losing their jobs.
When I asked him about it, he exploded and threatened to, and I quote, 'teach
that sorry bitch a lesson she wouldn't forget'."

The muscle in Gage's jaw twitched.
"Get rid of him," he said tightly. "Call O'Leary in H.R. and
tell him I want him to do the termination immediately. Matt's here with me, but
make sure two of his agents are present in case Matheson gets out of hand. I
want him escorted off the premises and all access denied."

He glanced at Matt, who nodded.
"Pearson and
McElhinny
," he said.
"They know the drill and can both be trusted to keep things quiet until
you decide how you want to handle an announcement."

"Matt wants Ellen Pearson and
Steve
McElhinny
on it," Gage said. "I also
want you to find out who the other women are and set up a meeting with legal.
Make sure they understand they are
not
in danger of losing their jobs or
of any other repercussion. We'll decide if we need to take any other action
once we know more."

After hanging up with Brett, Gage
took a minute to rope in his temper. "The way this day's going, I've got a
feeling I'll be real glad when it ends."

Matt drummed his fingers against
the file on the table in front of him. "Maybe you'd rather wait until
tomorrow to hear about this guy from the press conference."

Gage pinched the bridge of his
nose. "Are we looking at a mild annoyance or a ticking bomb?"

"At least a
loaded gun.
Unfortunately I don't have enough information yet to know
for sure. With
Riv
One demanding so much time, I
assigned the investigation to one of our newer agents. I called Tuesday to find
out where the report was and discovered she hadn't even begun the
investigation. I'm sorry."

Gage leaned back and crossed his
arms. He didn't suffer excuses well, and with the exception of Matt and a very
few others he wouldn't even be willing to listen to an explanation.

"It's my fault. She's got a
lot on her plate, and I should have been clearer about priorities. She tried to
put together a quick sketch yesterday and faxed it to me last night, but I
probably won't get an in-depth report until the end of next week."

Gage hitched his head toward the manila
folder. "Tell me what you've got."

Matt flipped open the file and took
out the top page. "Richard Everett Carpenter Jr., son of Richard Everett
Carpenter, U.S. Senator."

Gage closed his eyes and shook his
head. "Goddamn great."

"It gets worse. He's a
developer, not a reporter. Apparently he thought he was a shoo-in for a certain
megamillion
riverfront contract."

Ten minutes later Gage clasped his
hands behind his head and leaned back. "So the guy gets pissed when he
loses the bid and figures if he can discredit GFI the city might renege on
their contract, and he gets another shot."

"That's what it looks
like," Matt agreed. "He's well connected through his old man. I did
manage to make a couple of contacts this morning, and the general consensus is
he's a pretty vindictive bastard, although no one wanted me to quote
them."

Gage rubbed his jaw, an itching
suspicion taking root.
"Vindictive and influential
enough to pressure someone at the Attorney General's office to initiate a probe
against GFI for fraud?"

"Son of a—" Matt crossed
his arms.
"If so, he's playing a dangerous game."

"Yes, he is." Gage
narrowed his eyes. "And if he wants to play dirty then we need to know
where he's vulnerable. Aside from the good senator, did you find out if he has
any other family?
Wife?
Kids?"

"I'm not sure about kids, but
we'll know that and any other matter of public record when we get the report
next week. I do know he's married. Karen faxed me a couple of pictures she
found on the Internet, and there's one of Carpenter and his wife." Matt
sifted through the file until he found what he was looking for. "Here it
is. They were
cohosting
some big charity event last
year. The picture's not the best, but even so they make a pretty striking
couple." He handed Gage the newspaper clipping. "The wife's name is
Abigail."

~~~

Abby felt energized. She loved
spring. She loved walking through town when the cherry blossoms carpeted the
sidewalks. She loved being able to grab something from one of the street
vendors, find a sunny park bench, and enjoy her lunch outside. She reveled in
these first warm days of the season after a long, dreary Philadelphia winter.

Popping into a flower shop on the
way back to the office, she bought a big bunch of bright yellow daffodils.

"Are those for me?"
Madeline asked when Abby got off the elevator.

Abby separated the large bunch and
gave Madeline half. "I'll share my flowers if you'll lend me one of your
vases."

Madeline got two clear glass
containers from the bottom of her credenza. "Help yourself." The
phone rang and she set her flowers down to answer it.

"Thanks," Abby mouthed,
as she walked around the desk.

She put the daffodils in the vase
then went into the ladies' room to add some water. When she got back to her
office, she put them on the corner of her desk where she'd be able to enjoy
them all day. Her lawyer called a couple of minutes later to tell Abby her
divorce had been finalized, and she would receive a copy of the decree by
registered mail.

Between news of her divorce and
getting the
Riv
One account, there was so much
excitement bubbling inside her Abby couldn't concentrate on work. She had to
release some of it before she burst. More than a little giddy, she dialed
Rachael's office.