The Pajama Affair (15 page)

Chapter 18

“Liza? Liza, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you? What’s going on?”

Dirk’s questions grew more frantic as Liza struggled to stop crying long enough to talk. Her first inclination was to get herself under control and pretend nothing had ever happened, but then she remembered what
Marion
had said. Why should she hide the fact that she was upset from him?

“I’m having a bad day,” she said when she could finally talk.

“Do you want me to come over?”

She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it in surprise. “Aren’t you still at work?”

“I am, but if you need me, I’ll come. I can be there in half an hour.”

“I’m at
Marion
’s,” Liza said.

“Oh.”

Was it possible she heard disappointment in his tone? “But I can go home. I’d like to go home; I want to see you.”

“I want that, too,” Dirk said. He sounded like he was smiling, and Liza smiled in return.

They disconnected and Liza went back inside. “
Marion
, I’m leaving,” she announced.

“Because we argued?”
Marion
asked incredulously. Arguments were nothing new between them.

“No because Dirk is coming over. We’re going to talk.” She bit her lip. “I think maybe you’re right and we need to have a deep discussion about some things.”

Marion
smiled. “Finally. You’re going to give me all the details, right?”

“Some,” Liza said. When
Marion
looked disappointed, she continued, “You don’t tell me everything about Puck, do you?”

“Yes,”
Marion
said simply. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my best friend.”

Liza shrugged. “I don’t know. Some things feel like they should stay private between a couple.”

“Like what?”
Marion
asked curiously.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret,” Liza said. “I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for the offer of the room.” Now that she was feeling more emotionally intact, she shuddered at how close she had come to sleeping at
Marion
’s house.
Never again,
she promised herself.

Liza drove home in a daze. She had always considered herself to be a rational person who didn’t put much stock in emotion, but lately she had been running on nothing but emotion, and she was drained. Between the fear, confusion, and frustration of the last few weeks, her reserves were dry. She needed a break. She needed nothing dramatic to happen so she could regroup and think clearly once again.

But drama seemed to be in the cards for her once again today. She let herself in to her house only to find Link sitting on her couch.

“What are you doing here?” she yelled, instantly furious.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“Have you been here all day?” The thought of him waiting in her house for the last couple of hours was disconcerting, to say the least.

“Of course not. You’re bugged, remember? I heard you say you’re coming home to meet your boyfriend. We need to talk before you see him.”

“I don’t want to talk,” Liza said. She edged toward the bedroom. If she could make it there, she could lock herself inside until he went away.

“Liza, ignoring me won’t make me go away. I’m staying right next door, remember? I’m investigating this case, and I’m here to protect you. Now why don’t you let me do my job and come sit down so we can talk?” He patted the sofa seat beside him.

Liza shook her head like an obstinate toddler. “No. You hate Dirk. You’re prejudiced against him.”

“I have reason to be. I think he’s a cold-blooded assassin, and I think your life is in danger.”

“He’s not,” Liza said. She wanted to stamp her foot and put her hands over her ears. “He’s a wonderful man, and he loves me.”

“Has he told you that?” He backed off that line of questioning when she blanched and looked ready to cry. “He ignores you, and you don’t seem to care. That doesn’t sound like love.”

“He’s very busy,” she said. “And I’m not needy. I have my own life. I don’t need constant reassurance.”
Some
reassurance would be nice, but this wasn’t the time or place for confessions.

“He lies to you, and you defend him.”

“He does not,” she said vehemently. “Dirk doesn’t lie to me; he wouldn’t. He’s a man of integrity.”

Link studied her without seeing her, as if he was waging battle with himself. Finally, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. “Fine. I didn’t want to do this, but you won’t see reason. You won’t listen to the truth. What did Dirk tell you he was doing on his trip to
Cleveland
?”

“Meeting with a supplier,” she said weakly. Her eyes were fastened on the envelope. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to know. “I have to get ready. He’ll be here soon.”

“I’m not leaving until you see these.” He pulled out a stack of photographs from the folder. “It seems he had some time to socialize while he was away.”

Liza shook her head. “No. I know what you’re implying, and I don’t believe it. Dirk would never cheat on me.”

“I suppose some people wouldn’t consider dinner with another woman cheating. Maybe she’s his cousin.” He turned the photos to face Liza. She didn’t want to see them, but she couldn’t look away.

She blinked, trying to bring moisture to her suddenly burning eyes. She swallowed to try and drown out the buzzing noise in her ears. “That’s not his cousin,” she said hoarsely.

“You know this woman?” Link asked.

Liza nodded. “It’s Scarlet.”

By her tone, he knew she was upset. She held out her hand and he placed the photos gently in it, taking a step closer in case she needed support.

Liza brought the photos closer with shaking fingers and began to sift through them. There was Scarlet, wearing the red dress that had become her signature, leaning forward, laughing, touching his forearm. And there was Dirk, smiling, looking impossibly handsome and incredibly happy. Five years later and they still looked like the perfect couple and, worse, they still looked very much in love.

“Do you need to sit down?” Link asked. He was already regretting forcing the pictures on her. Any minute she looked in danger of keeling over from heart failure.

Slowly she shook her head. She thrust the pictures back at him, pressing them into his chest.

“You can keep them if you want,” he said.

“I don’t want,” she whispered. “I think you should go now.”

“Liza,” he began, but didn’t know how to continue. Sometimes he hated his job. Sometimes he hated being right. He hated it when innocent people like Liza became caught up in something sinister and beyond their control. He told himself he wouldn’t want to see anyone hurt, but the truth was he didn’t want to see
her
hurt. He wanted to protect her, to care for her.

“Just go. Please.”

He nodded. “But I’m right next door if you need me. Just call and I’ll be here. For anything.”

When she didn’t respond, he lingered another minute until he heard a car in the driveway. Slipping out the back, he quietly closed the door and eased to the house next door. He stood in the living room of the neighbor’s house debating with himself. It was his job to listen in on her conversations, especially the ones with Dirk Xavier, but right now he felt like a voyeur. Something bad was about to happen, something Liza wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, and Link suddenly didn’t want to invade her privacy. But it was his job, and duty was duty.

Reluctantly he turned on the earpiece and listened in.

“Liza?”

The front door slammed and Liza turned to look at it. Dirk came forward a few steps and stopped short when he saw the expression on her face. He had never seen that look before, and he had no idea what it meant.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Where to begin?
Liza wondered. She studied his handsome face, wondering if she had ever really known him. Why did she love him so? Was it for the scraps of his personality he had allowed her to see? Or did she love him because of who she wanted him to be? Was she shallower than she thought? Did she love the status of being with a semi-celebrity? Did she somehow feel better about herself for being with someone who was so incredibly handsome and put together?

“You’re just staring at me, not saying a word,” Dirk said.

“I want to break up,” Liza said. Her voice sounded far away and off somehow, as if someone else had hijacked her voice and was now speaking through her lips.

“What?” Dirk said.

“I want to break up,” Liza repeated, stronger this time.

“What?” Dirk repeated. His gaze slowly scanned the room, looking for an explanation. “Liza, what are you talking about? What could possibly have happened in the last few hours since you left my office? Are you not the same woman who just sat in my lap and kissed me goodbye?”

“No, I’m not the same woman,” Liza said.

“What is going on?” Dirk asked. “I feel like I’m on one of those hidden camera shows and we’re being secretly recorded or something.”

Whether it was an innocent statement or a subtle reminder that he knew what was going on she had no idea. But either way it worked to jar her back to her senses. Link was listening, and she didn’t want to have this conversation in front of him.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” Liza said.

Dirk stared at her, unblinking, and the longer he stared, the angrier he became. “Of course you can’t. You can dump me after five years with no explanation, and I’m not even surprised. This is so typically Liza. Sometimes I don’t know why I bother with you at all and, to be honest, I don’t know why I’ve kept up the charade this long.” With that final parting shot, he turned and let himself out, slamming the door in his wake.

Liza waited until his car started and then she picked up her keys, walked to her car, and drove back to
Marion
’s house. Letting herself in the front door, she called in the direction of the kitchen.

“I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“Okay,”
Marion
said. Her tone indicated she had questions, but fortunately she refrained from asking them.

Liza sidestepped piles of magazines and bills as she picked her way to the guest room. She spent a long time moving clutter, creating a path from the bed to the door, and then she spent a while longer clearing boxes and clothes off the bed. When it was finally clear, she turned a blind eye to the pet hair lining the surface. Instead, she lifted the cover, crawled inside the bed fully clothed, and fell asleep.

Sometime later she woke in the night. At first she sat up in alarm. Where was she? Had someone entered her bedroom again? But, no, she wasn’t at home. She was at
Marion
’s. As if to prove her surroundings, she inhaled and sneezed as her pet allergies kicked into overdrive.

When she sniffed she realized her cheeks were wet. She was crying. She lay down, staring at the ceiling. How had she become the woman who cried in her sleep?

Her heart was broken, and she was afraid it would never be whole again. He was gone. Dirk, the man she had fought so long to keep, was gone. And she, Liza, had been the one to send him away.

Had she done the right thing? If the gaping hole in her chest was any indication, then the answer was no.

“Liza, are you okay?”
Marion
opened the door and poked her head in without knocking.

“Did I wake you?” Liza asked.

“You’ve been crying a long time,”
Marion
replied.

“I have? And you heard me?”

“It was pretty loud. I’ve never heard you cry that loud before.”

“I’m sorry,” Liza said. Tears were still leaking down her cheeks, but she didn’t feel like she was crying. She felt normal. Normal and sad.

Marion
came forward and perched on the edge of the bed. “So what happens now?”

“I don’t know,” Liza said truthfully. For so long all of her plans had swirled around Dirk and keeping him in place. Now that he was gone, she felt at loose ends. “Maybe I need a hobby.”

“I’ve been looking for a new hobby,”
Marion
said. “We could do something together.”

Marion
was notorious for starting a new hobby, becoming passionately involved in it, and then quickly giving up after about four weeks. “Do you have any ideas?” Liza asked.

“Horseback riding?”
Marion
suggested.

“I’m allergic to horses, remember?”

“Oh, right,”
Marion
said absently. “How about skeet shooting?”

“After finding out someone was murdered because of a message in my pajamas, I don’t really want to touch a gun for a while. Or ever.”

“Okay,”
Marion
drawled. “How about skydiving?”