To Trust a Stranger (19 page)

Sid would be ruthless about finances, ruthless about everything.

She'd seen him in operation on the golf course, the tennis court, and in business deals when things got sticky: always, he played to win.

He would play to win in their divorce, too.

Glancing at the man beside her, she pushed thoughts of Sid and their divorce to the back burner. All she could deal with was one problem at a time, and her personal private investigator was another one. Mac had deliberately deceived her over the Debbie thing, but he'd also been a strong shoulder for her to lean on when she'd needed one. He had made her laugh and made her hot at a time when she hadn't thought either was possible, and for that she was grateful. The idea that she wouldn't be seeing him again cost her a pang, much as she hated to admit it even to herself. Still, his job was done. Thanks to him, tonight she had seen what Sid was up to with her very own eyes. As for anything else-such as a quick hop in the sack, maybe, just because she wanted to more than she had wanted anything in forever-well, the cold hard truth was that she needed another man in her life right now like she needed a bad case of poison ivy.

Especially another lying man.

“Okay, you're right, I guess it doesn't really matter that you lied.”

Her voice had lost its angry edge; instead it was faintly frosty. “You did what you were hired to do, and I recognize that. Seeing as how this whole thing got resolved so quickly, I'll understand if you want to impose some kind of minimum charge for your time.” Their gazes met as he glanced at her with a gathering frown. ”Add the cost of fixing your car, of course. If you'll let me know how much it all is, I'll see that you get your money right away.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Not so fast, Miss America.” The tone of that made her frown at him.

“What?”

“I don't think this whole thing is resolved. A rich, prominent man like Sid doesn't cheat on his wife by going someplace like Sweetwater's and hooking up with the girls there. He was way, way too visible, almost like he wanted to be seen. A man cheating on his wife hides out in a hotel or an out-of-the-way apartment or meets his honey on a business trip. Trust me, I know. I investigate this kind of thing for a living.” Julie's frown deepened. “So what are you saying?”

“I'm saying something doesn't make sense. I don't know what Sid was doing in Sweetwater's, but I don't think he was hooking up with his honey.”

A sudden memory made Julie's eyes widen. “He didn't take any Viagra tonight. There were still six pills mixed in with his vitamins. I counted when we got home from the club, and he never came upstairs again.”

A half-smile quirked up one corner of Mac's mouth. “Well, there you go. Proof positive.”

“Do you think it's possible that Sid's not cheating?” Funny, the idea didn't bring any upsurge of happiness with it. Probably because she knew, deep down inside, that it just wasn't true. But also, she thought, because the marriage was over where it counted, in her heart. It had taken a combination of Sid's behavior tonight and her sizzling reaction to Mac's kiss to make her realize that. Her attraction to Mac might be a phase-in fact, it probably was, a rebound kind of thing as she came to terms with the end of her marriage-but still she wanted more in a personal sense than Sid could give her, had ever given her. She deserved more. It was Julie time. “Possible? Anything's possible. But I don't think so. If he's taking Viagra and you're not getting any, I'd say it's a pretty sure bet he's cheating. But you haven't caught him at it yet. He had another reason for going to Sweetwater's tonight. I just haven't figured out what it is.” He sounded thoughtful. Outside the Blazer, the whole world seemed to be asleep. They were driving along familiar residential streets now; the houses were dark and the streets themselves were deserted. Julie was still digesting his words when he glanced at her again.”

Why don't you let me keep looking into this for a few more days?” If I did, I could keep seeing you for a few more days. The thought caught Julie unaware. Its implications annoyed her. He was a phase, she told herself a phase. She watched Oprah; she knew. The death of a marriage, like any other death, brought on various psychological states as the individual tried to cope. Mindless promiscuity probably came right after discovering your husband was cheating for everybody. She was not going to fall into that trap. She was going to keep herself on an even keel, or die in the attempt. She shook her head. “I don't think so. That would require being civil .to Sid and acting as if everything between us is hunky-dory for a few more days, and I just don't think I can do that. Besides, you lied to me.”

They had reached her street now. A glance told Julie that it was as dark and quiet as the rest of the town. “You want me to apologize for Debbie? All right, I apologize. Next time I run across a beautiful damsel in distress while I'm dressed like one myself, I'll jump her bones immediately just so there's no mistake.”

Julie glared at him. Then the sheer absurdity of the image he'd painted made her smile, albeit reluctantly. If he had come on to her while dressed as Debbie, she would have run screaming for miles. Seeing her smile, he smiled too.

“That's better.” His smile turned coaxing. “Don't you want to know who the lucky recipient of all that Viagra is?” Julie hadn't thought of that. Oh, God, did she want to know? The possibilities were endless, now that she considered them. Was it one of the women who worked for him? Heidi, his administrative assistant, came immediately to mind. She was young, pretty, and appeared to think Sid hung the moon. Or maybe it was one of their friends. In that category there were endless possibilities. Or a neighbor. Or-or anyone. It could be anyone at all. Just thinking about it made her feel sick, but Julie realized to her own surprise that she needed to know. If she didn't, she would wonder forever. The idea that a woman she knew, maybe even one she considered a friend, was having an affair with her husband behind her back was almost like a kind of mental poison. Unless she learned the truth, she would never be able to look at any of them in quite the same way again. She would always wonder, Was it you?

“How long do you think it would take?” Her smile had vanished, and her mouth was suddenly dry. She swallowed to try to wet it again. “Probably no more than a week.” Oh, God, could she bear living with this burden-and Sid-for a week more? She'd been so in love with Sid once. Now she just wanted to walk away and never have to see him again-but of course nothing in life was ever that easy. Nothing in her life, anyway.

“I could use that time to find a lawyer.” She chewed on her lower lip. It was important that she think about Becky and her mother, as well as her own financial security. Knowing Sid, he would do his best to see that they all ended up back in the double-wide if he could. He would love that. “Good idea.” Mac pulled up in front of her house, doused the lights and engine, then looked at her. “You realize that once Sid finds out you're filing for divorce, he's going to play to win. You need to make sure your lawyer is someone you can trust.”

Julie gave a ghost of a laugh as the near impossibility of that occurred to her. “All the lawyers I know are Sid's friends.”

Mac grimaced. “That's a problem. Want me to check around, see if I can find somebody who's up to taking on Sid?”

“Would you?”

“With pleasure.” Julie felt the last of her hostility over the discovery that Debbie was a fraud waft away. Mac was still a shoulder to lean on, and she was glad, really, really, glad, that he wasn't walking out of her life just yet. Still, if he was going to be staying on for a while, she wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. She shot him a severe look which he didn't see. He was staring out through the windshield, apparently lost in thought. “You did your best to deliberately deceive me. Admit it.” The look he shot her was almost startled. “I did?”

“'About Debbie.”

“Oh.” A beat went by. “Maybe I was a little bit deceptive.”

“Admit it. You lied.”

“Fine. You want to hear me say it? I lied.”

“That's better. Don't do it again.”

He grinned at her. “But I wasn't kidding about the shoes. I've got a real thing for your shoes.” Julie shot him a withering look. Then she realized that at some point after he'd parked the car, he'd picked up her hand. Or maybe she'd picked up his. Since she couldn't remember them coming together, she couldn't be sure. But they were joined now, her smooth slender fingers laced with his long capable ones. She felt the strength of his hand clasping hers, felt the heat radiating from his palm to hers, and her pulse rate shot to double time. Which might feel nice, but probably wasn't a good thing. Her life was chock-full of man trouble already; more she definitely did not need.

She glanced up at him. “I'm not going to sleep with you, you know,” she said. Best to lay it on the line-for herself as well as for him-even if she did feel a little prickle of regret at turning her back on what she was pretty sure would be really phenomenal sex. By saying it aloud, she fixed the ban firmly in her own mind; also, he was put on notice that there was no quid pro quo beyond a reasonable sum of money for his efforts on her behalf.

His lips compressed. His hand tightened on hers. Their gazes met.

His thoughts were impossible to read in the darkness, but the hard grip of his fingers said a lot.

“It's usually considered good manners to wait till you're asked.”

“I just want to make sure we have everything clear.”

“Clear as crystal.”

He released her hand, but she could feel the lingering warmth of his grip even as she pulled her hand back to the neutral territory of her lap.

“Okay. Good. I'm going in now.”

She opened the door. The interior light came on. A glance over her shoulder told her that he was watching her get out.

His eyes were narrowed and his mouth was a thin firm line. His expression was hard to decipher, but it certainly couldn't have been described as warm and friendly. Or anything close.

“I'll be in touch. You've got my number if you need me,” he said as he met her gaze. His voice was definitely businesslike. Her warning had set the right, necessary tone. To her own annoyance, Julie found herself regretting that she had ever opened her mouth on the subject as she headed inside.

14

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Julie Carlson was off schedule. She was supposed to be at home, in bed, asleep. For the second night in a row, she was not. Where the hell was she? If he didn't get the job done tonight, there was going to be hell to pay. The phone call from the Big Boss had made that clear. “You get it done tonight, you understand? No more screw-ups. Do I make myself clear?” So clear Basta broke out in a sweat just remembering the conversation. Now he was here to get the job done. Basta had already prowled around inside her house, looking for some kind of clue as to what was going on. There were no phone messages, he'd discovered as he disabled the phone. No notes on the refrigerator to let her hubby know where she had gone. The car the insurance company had provided her with was still in the garage; the only vehicle missing was the husband's Mercedes. That meant that either she was out walking around the streets-so unlikely at this hour that he didn't even bother to go looking-or somebody had picked her up. Maybe all of a sudden she had something going on the side. Basta frowned as he pondered that. The thought did not bother him particularly. Except for its effect on his plans, he did not care if she slept with the entire male population of nearby
Fort
Jackson
. But he was a businessman, and time was money. He was running out of time. And the Big Boss was running out of patience. In his line of work, it was never a good idea to tee off the boss. If he missed her again tonight-and it looked like he might well be going to-there was going to be a problem. He'd looked in the closets, under the beds, even in the damned refrigerator, on the off chance that she had somehow heard him come in and decided to hide. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. She would never have heard him. She was not in the house. He could almost smell the balmy breezes of Key West. That's where he should be right now, sitting out on a starlit hotel balcony, a rum and Coke in his hand, enjoying his reward for a job well done. Not kicked back in a leather armchair in his intended victim's cave-dark den, playing Donkey Kong with the sound turned off on a Game Boy he'd found while searching the spare bedrooms, waiting with growing frustration for said victim to get home where she belonged. This time, if she so much as stuck a toe in the door while he was still there, he was taking care of business regardless. It was getting to him, this waiting. Especially this waiting under the fulminating eye of the boss. As it happened, he was so busy hammering the stupid little alligator things that were part of the game that he didn't even hear her come m. A burst of light as the enormous chandelier in the front hall was flipped on nearly gave him a heart attack. For a split second, from pure astonishment, he sat as if turned to stone, his thumbs frozen on the game controls, his gaze snapping to the open doorway, trapped in a flood of illumination. Then instinct kicked in and he dove over the side of the chair, placing its bulk between himself and the door, sheltering behind it as he peered cautiously over the arm like a kid playing hide-and-seek. Luckily he managed to hang on to the Game Boy. If he had dropped it, the sound might have been enough to alert his prey. Because it was her. Even as his heart resumed its normal steady beat, he was reaching out into the hall with every sense he possessed. Several light footsteps, a sigh, the merest flicker of a shadow across the square of light that was all he could see of the hall-it was enough. Julie Carlson was home. He knew it as well as if he'd gotten a full, 360-degree view of her. A quick glance at his watch brought a smile to his face. Tonight there would be plenty of time. The ensuing wave of relief left him feeling buoyant in its wake. As his mother had always told him, all things come to he who waits. The light went out in the hall as suddenly as it had come on. Basta listened to her footsteps moving lightly up the stairs. When she reached the top, he stopped concentrating on her to carefully unzip his bag and place the Game Boy inside. He couldn't leave it. It had his fingerprints all over it, he'd had to take his gloves off to operate the tiny controls, and besides, he wasn't finished with the game. He waited for a little while, ten minutes or so, to give her enough time to get really settled in and comfy. Then he pulled on his gloves, rolled the ski mask down over his face, and fished his
Sig
Sauer semiautomatic out of the bottom of the bag. Time for the fun to begin.