No Turning Back (9 page)

"I'll do that," I said sweetly, grabbing the pile of papers waiting for me and retreating back to my desk. I fumed for a moment, trying to get my blood pressure back under control.

Flipping through the stack, I saw that the deliveries were mostly local to other law offices. I gulped down some of my coffee before heading to the elevator to check with Linda and Clarice. As I got in, I saw it was already occupied.

"Hey, Kathleen. Good to see you!" It was James, the associate who had helped me that infamous day when I had fallen all over Blane. He'd found me afterward and introduced himself and we'd been friendly acquaintances since. James was attractive with dark hair and eyes. He wasn't as tall as Blane, but he still topped me by several inches. Younger than Blane, too, he was only a few years older than me. Whereas Blane's face concealed his thoughts, James didn't have a deceptive bone in his body. He was nice almost to a fault and had manners that would put a Southern gentleman to shame.

"Good morning, James," I said with a smile. I hadn't seen him in a few days and his kindness helped me put Diane to the back of my mind. "Going up to see Mr. Gage?" James was also the son of the senior partner, William Gage.

"Yeah," he answered, smiling a crooked grin. "Don't want to keep Dad waiting when he calls."

"I bet." We were quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

"I was wondering, Kathleen, if maybe you'd want to have dinner with me sometime?" This came out of the blue and I had to struggle to keep the surprise from showing on my face.

"Um, sure," I said, then realized that didn't sound very enthusiastic. "I mean, I'd love to." I smiled again and so did James, the relief on his face endearing.

"Fantastic," he said. "How about tomorrow night?" I quickly checked my work schedule in my head. Tomorrow night was open.

"That sounds great," I answered. The doors dinged open then and he waited for me to exit before he did.

"I'll come by your desk after work tomorrow," he said, and I agreed. I watched him head to his Dad's office and was absurdly pleased. I had an honest-to-goodness date with an upstanding guy. James was every mother's dream for her daughter - well educated, good family, exquisite manners, excellent career, and easy on the eyes to boot. What wasn't to like?

A flash of memory hit me, of Blane's arms around me, his hands on me, the hard length of his body pressing against me. A shiver ran down my spine and I resolutely pushed those thoughts away. Blane was dangerous. James was safe. I needed to stop thinking about Blane.

Linda had a few files for me and then I stopped by Clarice's desk. I noticed Blane's door was closed. Ignoring the brief sting of disappointment I felt, I sat in a chair by her desk.

"Hey, Clarice," I said.

"Kathleen, I'm so glad you're here," she said, scooting her chair closer to mine. "What happened the other night?"

I told her about Sheila's murder and how Blane had come. I left out the part where he had spent the night.

"Are you okay?" she asked, eyeing me speculatively. I nodded.

"I'm fine. Really." She looked like she was going to pursue it so I changed the subject.

"Guess what?" I said. "I have a date!" That worked, as I knew it would.

"That's fantastic news!" she enthused. "With who?"

"You're not going to believe this," I said conspiratorially, "but James asked me out."

"James?!" she said, her face showing the same surprise I had felt. "James Gage?"

"The very one," I said, grinning. "We're going out to dinner tomorrow night."

A noise behind us made me pause. I turned to see Blane standing at the corner of Clarice's desk, a stack of folders in his hand. He stared intently at me, a frown creased his forehead. Clarice and I always chatted, but I didn't want to get her in trouble. Hurriedly getting up from the chair, I cleared my throat.

"Did you have any deliveries for me?" I asked Clarice, all business.

"No, not today, thank you," she answered, turning quickly back to her computer. I think she could sense Blane's displeasure as well.

I wanted to ask Blane if he'd found out anything about Sheila but wasn't sure this was the time or place. The look on his face didn't invite friendly inquiries. I swallowed and moved to pass by him to the elevators. A hand closing around my arm stopped me.

"Can I see you for a moment, Kathleen?" Blane asked. Well, it came out a question, but was really a command. I saw Clarice look up from her computer.

"Um, sure," I said uncertainly, and followed him into his office. He closed the door behind me and headed to the desk where he set down the folders he'd been carrying. I stood nervously watching him. After a moment, he rounded to the side of the desk nearest me and leaned back against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit today with a white shirt and tie that I'm sure cost more than my entire wardrobe. It made his already broad shoulders look even wider and I noticed how the pants hung low on his lean hips. Appalled at where my gaze had fallen, I jerked my eyes upward.

"How are you doing?" he asked, and his tone had lost its earlier austerity.

"I'm fine," I said. I really didn't want to talk about me. The last thing I wanted was for him to show me kindness, which would probably make me start crying again. I was quite sure he'd seen enough of me crying.

"I was wondering if you'd been able to track down anything on the person Sheila had been seeing?" I asked hopefully. It was only Monday, but I was confident that if there was any way to track him down, Blane would be someone who could do it. I'm not sure why I felt this way, I just did. Blane was someone that could be very intimidating and dangerous under certain circumstances, as I had discovered the other night when I had observed him with a gun held comfortably in his hand, but I also knew him to be the kind of man that got things done.

To my dismay, he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not." When he saw the disappointment on my face, he stood and walked closer until he was only an arm's length away.

"I'll keep trying," he said quietly, as he reached out and took a lock of my hair between his fingers like he had Friday night. With him this close, I could smell a faint trace of his cologne again. I fought to keep my mind on the topic at hand.

"I managed to get Sheila's cell phone," I said. I'd had an idea yesterday. "I was wondering if maybe he might have called her. Or, at least, there should be a call on there from the person she worked for. Maybe I could get in touch with her. Or him." I didn't know who it would be. Pimps were usually men, if movies and television were anything to go by, but madams supposedly ran the high-priced escort services, like that Heidi Fleiss.

Blane's hand froze for a moment, then continued threading the strands of my hair through his fingers.

"Why don't you bring it in to me?" he suggested. "I can get the numbers run to see who they are." That sounded like a much better idea than me just randomly calling the numbers. But a whisper of caution made me hesitate.

"I'd better put the phone back," I said, "but I'll write down the numbers first and bring them in." I don't know why I lied, I just did. I had no intention of taking the phone back to Sheila's apartment.

"Okay," he readily agreed. "Good idea. Bring them to me tomorrow." I waited for him to step back but he didn't. Instead, he moved slightly closer. Tipping my head back, I looked up at him.

"What's tomorrow night?" he asked, and his voice had dropped lower, making me think things I really shouldn't where he was concerned. He was my boss, I reminded myself, and tried to focus. His question puzzled me. What was he talking about?

"Um, Tuesday?" I answered, my brows knitting in confusion. I saw his mouth curve slightly.

"Yes, Tuesday," he said wryly. "I meant, what were you telling Clarice about tomorrow night."

Oh. Well, this was slightly uncomfortable. Somehow I doubted Blane would approve of William Gage's son asking the lowly runner on a date. I picked a spot on his suit to look at as I answered.

"James asked me on a date." Blane didn't respond for a moment, though his fingers stilled in my hair again. When he didn't say anything, I cautiously looked up to find his gray eyes on mine.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said firmly. I was surprised at how that hurt and I responded defensively.

"I'm not good enough for him, right?" I said, my tone heavy with sarcasm. I stepped backward outside his reach. His hand dropped to his side and he watched me.

"I didn't say that," he began, but I cut him off.

"You didn't have to," I retorted. "You think I don't know that you see me as some hick that's far beneath the notice of someone like him?" Or someone like yourself, I thought but didn't say. I saw his jaw clench and his eyes spark with anger, but I ignored that.

"James at least respects me enough to ask me out on a date! You just groped me in my bed and left!" My eyes widened in shock at what I'd said. The minute the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Not because I didn't think they were true, but because I hadn't wanted to talk about what had happened that night. The flash of anger was back in his eyes and I spun on my heel and ran for the door. Throwing it open, I practically flew out of his office.

"Kathleen, wait!" I heard him call, but I ignored him. Clarice glanced up at me as I passed, her eyes wide, but I didn't stop. I was already at the stairwell door, not bothering to wait for the elevator, when I heard Blane's door slam shut behind me.

Chapter Four

I retreated to my cubby, grabbed the files I had for delivery, and hurried out of the building. My mind wasn't really on where I was going as I drove. I was reeling from my outburst to Blane. If I'd wanted to prove to him that I wasn't a hick but a modern, sophisticated woman, I had massively screwed up. I groaned in embarrassment. No doubt he thought I was a young, naïve country bumpkin after that scene.

Honking startled me and I realized I'd been sitting at a green light. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I saw a line of cars behind me waiting to turn. Grimacing, I stomped on the gas and my car lurched forward.

It took me a while to make all the deliveries and I ended up grabbing a sandwich for lunch to eat in the car. I wasn't looking forward to going back, especially if Diane was around, so I took my time.

The last firm on my list was one I really enjoyed visiting. They were situated further from the city and nestled in an area surrounded by woods. One of the things I missed most about my hometown was the trees. Autumn was my favorite season and I loved watching the leaves turn color. Although the weather was a bit dreary today, the trees still looked gorgeous with their auburn and gold burnished leaves.

After delivering the envelope I'd had for them, I lingered outside on the way back to my car, letting the peacefulness of the leaves rustling in the breeze calm my agitation. Stopping for a moment, I leaned back against a tree and shut my eyes. For a few minutes, I just stayed like that, enjoying being outside and regaining my equilibrium. I had to get a grip. My fascination with Blane would get me nowhere except even more infatuated. I had to forget about him. After all, I had a date. My lips curved in a smile. Something to look forward to. That was nice.

Pushing away from the tree, I heaved a sigh and headed for my car. As I walked, I noticed someone standing by my car. When I got close enough to see who it was, I froze.

Jimmy was leaning against the side, carelessly playing with a pocketknife. My pulse sped up and I had to fight the urge to turn and run. Looking up at me, his lips curved in a sneer.

"Kathleen Turner," he said. "It's good to see you again." Pleasant enough words, but the way he said them made my skin crawl.

"How do you know my name?" I asked. I didn't recall Blane giving out anything but my first name to the Santinis.

"We make it a point to find out things about people," he said. He was still playing with the knife and I found it hard to take my eyes off it. It made me think of Sheila and I swallowed hard.

"Blane said for you to stay away from me," I said in as threatening of a tone as I could manage. His sneer disappeared and I instinctively took a step back when he moved closer to me, shoving his face near to mine.

"I don't answer to Blane Kirk," he growled at me, his eyes furiously angry. "And he should remember who I do answer to." His hand flashed out and I screamed. I expected to feel pain, but I didn't. Cool air touched my skin and I realized he'd sliced through the fabric of my sweater near my neck.

"You tell Kirk to keep you quiet or next time, it'll be your pretty skin."

He got into a nearby car and drove away. I stood immobilized for several minutes, watching his car shrinking into the distance, before my feet would obey my command to move.

Getting into my car, I took a moment to just breathe and regain control. Finally, when I felt I could drive without crashing the car, I started the engine and drove back to the firm.

It was late afternoon by now and I wanted to make a quick dash into the building and hit a bathroom first without seeing anyone. My rearview mirror told me I looked less than ideal. My mascara had run when a few tears escaped on the drive back and there was a long tear in the top of my sweater that left the fabric gaping.

I shot a quick glance around the firm's empty lobby and gratefully slunk into the ladies' room.

I washed my face, sighing at the complete lack of makeup now. I wasn't one of those girls who carried makeup in my purse. I pulled out the headband to brush my hair and let it fall around my face. My hair was long enough that it sort of covered the rip if I wore it over my shoulders rather than down my back. I sighed at my reflection. Well, that was about as good as it was going to get. Looking at my watch, I saw I only had another hour before I could go home.

I took care to avoid Diane on my way back to my cubby. She'd probably think I'd been getting it on with someone during work hours, the way my clothes were torn. I snorted. As if I would be that lucky.