JAKrentz - Uneasy Alliance (13 page)

Abby shivered, a thousand questions corning to her lips. Evidently Torr's own questions weren't far behind. He got his in first.

"What did he look like, Carla?" he asked as he deliberated over the frozen steaks. "Maybe I can figure out who it was and give him a call. Abby and I are fairly hospitable, aren't we, Abby?"

"Of course." Did anyone notice how thick the words sounded, she wondered.

"Hard to describe," Carla said. "Nice lookin' man about thirty-five or so, I'd say. Course, it's difficult to tell about age. Brown hair, I think. Kind of on the thin side. Wiry, you know." She shrugged. "Sorry, I never was much good at describing folks."

"I see," Torr said easily as if the matter were unimportant. "Could be anyone. Did you notice the car?"

"Just a Chevy. Nothing special. Light-colored, I think. Does that help?"

"Nope, but don't worry about it." Torr crushed Abby's hand in a reassuring fashion and then pushed her in the direction of the vegetable bin. "See what you can find for a salad, honey."

Abby obediently headed for the vegetables, almost unable to focus on the row of head lettuce. The blackmailer had been here. Right here in this store! It must have been him. At least they had confirmed that it was a him and not a her, she thought bleakly. But it was frightening to know the man had been this close, that he had tracked her this far. The illusion of safety she had been enjoying for the past few days disintegrated. Now the blackmailer knew about Torr. That realization made her fingers tremble as she blindly selected the lettuce.

By the time she reached the counter, Carla was assuring Torr that she had not only given the stranger accurate directions, but had really had quite a pleasant chat with him.

"A real friendly guy. Wanted to know how you were doing, how often you got to use the cabin. All kinds of things."

"I see." Torr affected mild interest while he glanced around for anything he might have forgotten. "Probably a business acquaintance who was just passing through. After you told him how to get to my place he must have decided he didn't have the time to look me up."

"Well, like I said," Carla smiled broadly, "once I told him about your friend Abby he probably decided he didn't want to intrude. Will that be all?"

"Yes, I think that will do it. Anything else, honey?" Torr glanced inquiringly at Abby, who barely managed a polite expression.

"No, there's nothing else we need for tonight, Torr."

He must have realized she was trembling because he grasped her arm very firmly in one hand while he scooped up the sack of groceries in the other. Torr took both of his packages outside to the BMW and deposited them. Abby didn't know about the grocery sack, but she was extremely grateful to be set down. Her knees had become distinctly wobbly.

"I think I need some calcium tablets," she muttered. "My legs feel quite weak. And maybe some more iron, too."

Torr slid into the driver's seat and reached out to grasp her firmly by the shoulders. "We don't know for certain it was him."

"It must have been."

"All right, I'll agree it most likely was him. But that doesn't mean you have to panic. It just means your plan to draw him out of hiding is working."

"He knows about you now, Torr," she whispered starkly, searching his face.

"So? That was part of the plan, remember?"

"Your plan. Not mine. I had no right to involve you in this." Oh, what had she been thinking of to let him help her? How could she possibly protect him? The thought of Torr being in danger because of her was suddenly an overwhelming burden.

"You didn't involve me. I involved myself. I practically kidnapped you, if you'll recall. Abby, don't you dare start in on a guilt trip because of me. If you so much as apologize for the situation we're in, I swear, I'll…" He snapped off abruptly.

"You'll what?" She tried a tentative smile and was surprised to find that it worked. There was something vastly reassuring about having Torr Latimer here beside her.

"I was going to threaten violence," he explained wryly, releasing her to start the car, "but then I decided that might not be quite what you need to hear under the circumstances."

Abby watched his controlled movements, vaguely aware of how much pleasure she took now in simply observing him. "I don't see you as the violent type," she decided, relaxing somewhat.

For some reason that drew an almost amazed reaction from him. Torr took his eyes off the winding road long enough to send her a disturbingly probing, almost fiercely demanding glance. "You don't?" His voice sounded unnaturally restrained.

"No."

"Remember that in the future, will you?"

"Why? Going to make more threats?" she asked lightly.

He shook his head impatiently, concentrating now on his driving. "Abby, I told you the other morning that any man could be made jealous under certain circumstances. Well, I think any man could become violent under certain circumstances, too."

"Human nature, I imagine," she remarked shrugging, wondering why he sounded so tense. "Male nature."

"Yes. But Abby, I want you to know that I would never hurt you."

She was deeply touched by his attempt to calm and comfort her. "I wouldn't still be here alone with you if I thought you might be capable of turning violent with me," she said gently. It was the truth.

That didn't appear to have the desired effect. Torr's strong fingers tightened on the steering wheel and his mouth hardened. "I want you to trust me, Abby."

"I do." These past few days had built the foundation of that trust, she realized. Confidently she reached out to touch his sleeve. When he glanced quickly down at her hand she withdrew it.

"Do you really, Abby? Trust me completely, I mean?"

"Torr, why the inquisition? I've just told you I wouldn't be here with you now if I didn't. I wouldn't have let myself be kidnapped from Portland if I hadn't felt on some level that I could trust you. The only thing I'm worried about at the moment is dragging you into my problems."

"I'm not giving you any choice on that score. I'm going to take care of you, Abby. That means I'm involved in your problems. Speaking of which, I think we ought to go over that list of yours with Carla's description in mind."

She sensed his desire to revert to a more businesslike topic and was about to go along when another thought occurred to her. "Torr, what about your work? How long can you be away from it?"

He appeared unconcerned. "As long as I want. I

have nothing hanging fire at the moment. I'm not trading any contracts just now."

"No pork-belly futures going through the ceiling?" she teased.

"Actually, I made my profits in grain futures this past year," he told her. "The drought in the Midwest gave me an edge. I managed to buy contracts on corn before the prices started to climb."

"And made a bundle when everyone realized the harvest wasn't going to be so good this year, hmmm? There's something intriguing about that kind of speculation, but I think it would make a nervous wreck out of me. I'll stick to vitamins. Maybe I should try selling them to commodities traders. Sounds like the kind of business where people need to take their vitamins and minerals regularly."

"Knowing commodities traders, they'd probably try to find a way to trade them rather than take them. Abby, about that description of Carla's…"

She sighed and sank back into the depths of the leather seat. "Torr, it could be almost anyone. Even a couple of my salespeople."

"I thought most of your salespeople were women."

"They are, but I've got a few men, too."

"How on earth did you ever get into the door-to-door vitamin business, anyway?"

"By accident. Someone came to my door one day selling cosmetics and I decided that if people bought things that made them look good, they'd probably buy stuff that made them feel good. Especially here on the West Coast where everyone's so fitness-crazed. I was looking for a major career change at the time, so everything coincided nicely."

"I was in the same position myself when I decided to get into commodities trading," Torr said quietly. "I wanted a career change."

She had an urge to ask him more about that need, a part of her wondering if there had been personal considerations involved as there had been with her. But something held her back. There were private depths in Torr that she was not yet ready to plumb. For fear of being turned away? Perhaps. Or maybe for some other, unnamed fear. In any event the moment passed as Torr went back to the subject at hand.

"If Carla's visitor was our blackmailer, then he now knows where you are. He'll act on the information.

"Oh, God, what am I going to do if he comes knocking on the door with a gun or something?"

"He won't."

"You sound awfully certain of that."

"It makes sense for him to keep his identity a secret if he can. Why take the risk of having you possibly hire someone to get rid of him?"

"That's a thought!" What a splendid idea. Hire someone to get rid of whoever was blackmailing her!

"There's a slight drawback to hiring a professional remover of other people," Torr said dryly.

"Money? It would be worth the price!"

"For someone who's not big on violence, you're suddenly sounding rather ferocious. Do you realize exactly what you're saying?"

"It's just that for a moment there it sounded like such a neat plan."

"Not so neat when you consider the fact that you'd be left to deal with a professional killer after he'd done the job. If you think you've got trouble now, just imagine what that might be like."

"You're right, I suppose," Abby agreed, albeit slowly.

"Don't sound so forlorn. You've still got me, remember?"

"But we've just decided you're not the killer type," Abby pointed out ruefully. She waited for his answering smile and when it didn't come she found herself hurrying into conversation. "So, we're stuck with a description of a man who could look like anyone and who drives a car which could belong to anyone."

"We'll go back through that list of people you know when we get home. Not everyone on it is male, has brown hair and is wiry and thin. Surely we'll be able to eliminate a few!"

"We're not even sure the guy's on the list to begin with," Abby protested disgustedly.

"Even if he's not, he'll soon be making another move. When he does we'll probably have a few more clues with which to work. It's like watching the commodities market," Torr offered easily. "A couple of hints here and there, a little speculation and a lot of grass-roots psychology. Apply everything properly and you'll come out a winner."

"You sound so sure of yourself."

"I was trained to be," he answered, shrugging.

"In the commodities market?" she asked curiously.

"No. Before that. When I had another job."

He was closing up on her again, Abby realized, discouraging questions he didn't want to answer. This time she persisted. "What sort of job?"

"I worked for a large corporation up until almost three years ago," he told her shortly.

"And that's where you learned to be decisive?"

"Goes with the territory."

"I don't know about that. I think that with you it comes naturally," she said thoughtfully. He seemed quietly grateful that she let the subject drop.

T
he blackmailer
didn't make his next move until three days later. Abby had begun to relax again. She had even gotten to the point of wondering if the knowledge that she was with Torr had discouraged the extortionist. Over breakfast one morning she brought up that possibility.

"Maybe he's been scared off now that he knows I'm not alone," she remarked, spreading red currant jelly on her toast.

"Maybe." Torr didn't appear convinced.

"After all, in the beginning he was only threatening one lone woman. The whole picture might have changed for him when you came into it."

Torr looked up from the copy of the
Wall Street Journal
he'd gone down to the village for earlier that morning. Something close to anticipation flared in his amber eyes. "In which case you'll have to stick close to me, won't you?"

Abby paused in the act of spreading the jelly and tilted her head to one side. It was suddenly borne in on her just how very domestic this little breakfast scene was. The knowledge made her feel uncomfortably warm. "Don't you think you might grow a little bored with a long-term arrangement like that?" she asked delicately.

Torr folded the
Journal
and placed it neatly beside his plate. Then he picked up his coffee cup and met her eyes over the brim. "No," he said quite simply.

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say. There was a pregnant pause. Then she held out a slice of jelly-spread toast. "Want some more toast?" she asked with unnatural brightness.

"No, thank you."

She ate it herself in a rather large gulp that nearly choked her. A swallow of coffee overcame the obstacle.