Wicked Obsessions (22 page)

When Drew called to let her know he was back, and started to say something more personal, she cut him off... suddenly worried that the phone was tapped. Trying to keep the worry out of her voice, she told him she had a new project to discuss with him, and suggested he come over for dinner around six. Drew was clearly confused, but didn't question her peculiar behavior until he arrived at her house.

"What's wrong?" he demanded the moment she opened the door.

"Come in and I'll explain." She directed him to the edge of the front window in the living room and, holding the curtain aside an inch, told him to look across the street. He set his hat on a table and went to look. "See the gray compact? Anybody in the driver's seat you recognize?"

"I can't really tell from here. Is this a new version of I Spy, or what?"

"It's Detective Kidder. He thinks... oh, God, this is so nuts it's hard to say it out loud. He thinks you and I have been having an affair for some time, and that we killed Rico because he wouldn't give me a divorce."

Drew laughed sharply once before realizing she wasn't sharing the joke. "You're serious?" he asked, incredulously.

"It sounds impossible when I say it like that, but the way he delivered it to me, step by step, he made it sound completely rational."

"How can it sound rational when there's no truth in it?"

She related how the detective had spelled out his theory to her.

"Okay," Drew conceded. "There's some sense in it if you don't know the truth. But he can't prove we were long-distance lovers when we only just met. For that matter, we aren't lovers now." Her skeptical look caused him to add, "In the biblical sense."

She shook her head. "I don't think the truth matters. I think he's been watching the house for some time. Maybe he even took pictures."

Drew's expression revealed exactly when he recalled the incriminating incidents. "Oh. But we still didn't know each other long enough to plot a murder together. And if we had to, we could surely prove it."

Teri felt somewhat relieved to hear him say that, but there were still the other half-truths. "He was on target about Rico and the divorce."

"But no one else knows that, do they?"

"Selena does, and now you do too."

"As one of the accused, I don't think I count. Are you afraid Selena might say somethin'?"

She frowned. "Not on purpose, but he's very tricky with his questions. And then there's that business about the blonde." She told him about the hair found on Rico's body. "When he asked if I knew any blondes Rico might have been seeing, I said something like, I don't know any blondes. I don't remember exactly what I said. I was so stunned. But I didn't want him bothering Selena with a lot of questions just because of her hair color."

"But she's not a blonde."

"What?"

"Her hair might be called white, silver or even gray, but not blonde. Anyway, he could see Selena with his own eyes."

His logic was so clear that Teri wondered how she could have been so blind to it, until she tried to remember when Kidder had seen Selena. "It sounds strange, but I'm not sure he
has.
I mean, he has, but now that I think about it, I'm not sure he's seen her
real
hair. She's had a thing for this red wig lately. I'm just not positive about it."

"Either way, she
wasn't
havin' an affair with Rico, was she?"

"No, of course not. She's my friend."
A friend who joked about seducing my husband as a favor.
Teri kept that embarrassing episode to herself. As nice as Drew was, she didn't want him to know what truly wicked thoughts she'd once had.

"Then he has nothin' but a lot of suppositions. I think you should go see that Captain Hart and tell him what Kidder's doin' to you. I got the distinct impression he believed the guy we pointed out was guilty, and he couldn't wait to pin the whole thing on the mob. I can't help but wonder if Kidder's actin' on his own."

"You're right. I kept thinking Kidder was acting crazy, like it was something personal he had against me. Maybe he really
is
off-balance. That settles it," she stated firmly. "I'll go see the captain tomorrow and put an end to this nonsense."

"Good. So, what's cookin'?"

"Do you really think you should stay to eat? I mean, he's out there, probably counting the minutes we spend together."

"If he's tappin' your phone, which I doubt, since that's not such an easy thing to do legally, he knows you invited me to dinner to discuss work."

"Right. But I don't think you should stay long, do you? I mean, I want you to stay, but until we're off his prime suspect list, I think we should—"

"Keep our
needs
on ice?" he finished for her. She nodded, with a blush for emphasis. He couldn't resist giving her a hug, but he set her away immediately after. "Until we're in the clear, we'll keep our relationship strictly professional—confined to the studio after tonight. Have you been working?"

"A little. It's been hard."

"I can't imagine why!" His sarcasm earned him a smile. "At any rate, he can't make anything of our both bein' in the studio from time to time."

"No, I don't think so."

"That's settled too, then. How about feedin' a poor, lonely cowboy who's been eatin' nothin' but trail dust for days?"

She found she could laugh after all, and led him to the kitchen. As they ate, Drew told her about his trip and his hopes for a lot more of those kinds of assignments from the same agency. It occurred to Teri that, even considering what a good week he'd had, Drew was not reacting as she'd thought he would when he learned of the detective's charges. Finally, she asked what was on her mind. "Are you pretending not to be worried for my sake?"

"Worried 'bout what?" he asked with a lopsided smile.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about."

He took her hand in his. "Listen to me, darlin'. Worryin' don't make a bad situation better, only worse. Ever since I hit bottom, I learned to live one day at a time. The other slogan I have imprinted on my brain from my experience is 'Let go and let God.' I do the best I can and leave my future in His hands. I figure since He brought me to you, He had a good reason."

She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. "Oh, Drew, that's so like you to say the perfect thing. I don't want to send you home after that, but I'll console myself with knowing I'll see you tomorrow in the studio."

He hated leaving her alone, but it would add fuel to the detective's imaginary fire if he stayed any longer. As Teri said, they had the studio...
the studio?
Instantly making a decision, he said, "We still have work to do."

Her eyes opened wide. "We do?"

"Sure 'nuff. And we haven't got a minute to waste. Right now I want you to mosey on up to the studio. I'll only be a couple minutes behind you."

She didn't know precisely what he had in mind, but if it meant she could postpone saying goodnight, she was all for it.

"Turn on the outside light and bang the kitchen door good and loud on your way out. Hopefully, he has his hearing aid in. We want to make sure he knows right where we are for the rest of the evenin'."

His deviousness made her laugh again, and she did as he suggested. A moment after she entered the studio, she heard a thud like a car door slamming and ran to the window. For a heartbeat she had feared Drew was leaving, but he was only getting his camera and bag out of the trunk. She also noticed he had a brown grocery bag with him. Her curiosity was piquing by the time he joined her, but she waited for him to explain.

He set down his equipment and handed her the grocery bag. "Go put this on."

She looked at the brown bag and asked innocently, "How should I wear it? Over my head?" He smirked at her, and she opened it to find her pink terrycloth robe. As she pulled it out, she asked, "What's this for?"

"You'll see. Just put it on."

She started to push one arm into a sleeve, but he stopped her.

"Not like that. Go in there," he ordered, pointing to the bathroom, "and put it on—the way you were last week when I put you to bed.
Exactly
the way you were. It looks like we've been accused of somethin' that's dang near impossible to deny. I figure that already makes us guilty of improper behavior without havin' enjoyed it. Unless you have an objection, I'd rather be guilty of somethin' I found considerable pleasure in."

Her stomach did a double flip as his words sank in. The waiting was over. They were going to become lovers for real, right under the detective's watchful eye. The move to the studio and the camera equipment were just a cover for Kidder's sake. They knew he couldn't possibly see anything inside because of the blackout shades over the windows.

She took the robe into the bathroom and immediately heard Drew moving things around in the studio as she undressed. What on earth was he doing now?

As she came out of the bathroom, her nervousness required her to make another joke. "I assume you didn't want me to put my head under the faucet to get the look
exactly—
" her words hung in the air as she took in the changes he'd made. One of her big lamps had been covered by a pink filter and was glowing on the bed, over which was draped a large piece of royal blue satin. The charming devil who had set the stage was fiddling with his camera as if he hadn't noticed her arrival.

"Just have a seat on the bed," he told her in a stiff, professional voice.

"Drew," she said in a warning tone, "what are you doing?"

He glanced up at her with a perfectly innocent expression. "I'm workin', ma'am. And so are you. Ever done any modelin' before, ma'am?"

"Drew!" This time she stomped her foot for good measure, but it did her no good. He was waiting for her answer. Why not play along, she asked herself. She didn't know the rules to this kind of game. But as she remembered how much she liked Drew's kisses, her body began warming up and she decided to leave the rules to him. "No, I haven't done any modeling," she finally answered, sitting primly on the day bed. "I'm too plain."

He shook his head at her. "Wrong attitude. We can't get this shoot right unless you know how good you look. You're beautiful, Teri Carmichael, inside and out, and I want your eyes to tell the camera you know it."

"All right. I'm beautiful. What I'm
not
is photogenic. That's why I usually stand on the
other
side of the camera." She made a funny face at him as he held his camera up to his eye and prepared to snap.

Click-whirr.
"Wrong again, ma'am. This camera loves the way you look—especially when your hair hangs loose around your face, restin' just so on your shoulders. Did you know it has just a hint of auburn when the light hits it? Muss it up a little, now." She started to make a joke of that, too, but somehow it seemed more fun to do what he wanted her to. She certainly had given instructions to enough models to know what he meant. As she threaded her fingers through her hair and tossed her head from side to side, he moved from one spot to another, clicking his camera repeatedly.

"Smile for the camera, pretty lady. It loves your sexy mouth. Let it have a peek inside. That's it. Such a talented little mouth. The kind that makes a man willin' to suffer the fires of Hell to have that mouth on his."
Click-whirr.

"And your eyes. Warm, sensuous eyes that tell a man everythin' he wants to know, nothin' held back. Don't hold it back now, darlin'. Let your eyes tell the camera what you're thinkin' 'bout."

She felt her heartbeat pick up as she remembered the night they'd almost made love. His sharp intake of breath told her he'd seen her explicit thoughts through his camera lens. Suddenly she understood this was a game for two, and that she could create her own rules.

His camera kept clicking as she ran her gaze over his body, imagining all the things she intended to do with it. When she ran her tongue over her lips, she watched his body change inside the snug jeans, preparing itself for her, and her breathing altered to accommodate her erratic pulse.

"Good. Very nice. Let's do a pose or two. Try layin' on your back with your head almost off the side of the bed, and bring your hair out so that it hangs down over the edge. Yes, that's it. Now bend your far knee up through the robe's openin'. C'mon, darlin', show the camera what great legs you've got. Better yet, I'll help you."

He set down the camera and went to her. With great care and attention, he separated and arranged the robe so that nothing but her leg was visible. It was difficult to lie still as his hands smoothed her robe into place, but when he ran his fingertips up and down her inner thigh, she almost pulled him on the bed with her that minute. But he wasn't done with her yet. First he positioned her arms and hands. Then, touching her only through her robe, he loosened the belt and parted the top between her breasts.

"Time to close your eyes," he murmured, moving away. She did, and the camera began clicking again. "You're not sleepin', you're rememberin'. Your mind and body are filled with nothin' but memories of your dream lover. The feel of his calloused palm against your naked breasts. How his tongue teased your nipples until you nearly screamed."

Her hands automatically moved to ease the tingling his words created.

"You're rememberin' how he felt stretched out on top of you and how your thighs parted to make room for him."