[Cutthroat Business 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set Page 31

  Todd’s bluish-gray eyes narrowed. “Is Collier bothering you?” He reached out and snagged the phone before I could stop him. I leaned back on my chair, biting my lip, while he lifted it to his ear. His terse greeting was a masterpiece of manly competence. “Satterfield.”

  The phone squawked. As I watched, the heightened color left his cheeks and his pleasant features took on a slightly sheepish cast. “Of course. My apologies. Here she is.” He handed me the phone across the table. “Someone named Gary Lee.”

  “Oh!” I snatched the phone out of his hand and put it to my ear. “Gary Lee? Hi!”

  “Hi, Savannah,” Gary Lee Hodges said politely. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. And you?” I was practically panting with excitement, and Todd didn’t look happy. I smiled apologetically at him, but I don’t think he quite caught my drift, because his expression became even stonier than before.

  “We’re fine,” Gary Lee said. “Hey, me and Charlene have been looking at these houses you’ve been e-mailing us...”

  “Yes?”

  “And we’ve found one we wanna take a look at. Real pretty – Tudor-like, you know – and with a real nice master bedroom with a skylight and stuff.”

  “Sure,” I said, nodding rapidly. “I’d love to show it to you. What’s a good time for you?”

  “How ‘bout tomorrow? I ain’t got nothing going on in the afternoon, and Charlene gets off work early.”

  “I’m not busy tomorrow afternoon. How about 3 o’clock? Or 3:30? That should give us plenty of time.”

  Gary Lee allowed as how 3:30 would suit him and his wife just fine, and we agreed to meet then. I shut the cell phone off, beaming.

  “Plenty of time for what?” Todd wanted to know. I turned my attention to him.

  “I beg your pardon...? Oh, that was Gary Lee Hodges.”

  “I gathered that. Who’s Gary Lee?”

  “Haven’t I told you about him? He’s half of that young couple who came to see Rafe’s grandmother’s house two weeks ago. We’ve been staying in touch, and now they want me to show them something else.” I beamed.

  “That’s great,” Todd said, hiding his enthusiasm well. “So Mrs. Hodges will be there, as well?”

  “Charlene? Sure. Why would Gary Lee look at houses without her?”

  Todd didn’t answer. “Why didn’t you want to take the call in front of me?”

  “Oh, that wasn’t... I mean...” I hesitated, flushing; my mind casting about for something plausible. Something other than the truth, which was that I had expected it to be Rafe, and that was the call I didn’t want to take in front of Todd. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take the call in front of you, exactly. Or that I didn’t want to talk to Gary Lee. I just thought it was impolite to conduct business on the phone when we were having dinner together. You don’t talk business on the phone when we’re on a date.”

  I smiled. Todd smiled back, and although I thought I could still detect a shadow of suspicion in the depths of his blue-gray eyes, he didn’t question me further.

  He had cheesecake and I had coffee for dessert, and then he drove me home in his cushy SUV. I snuggled into the buttersoft seat and enjoyed the smell of new leather upholstery. There’s nothing wrong with my Volvo, but it’s almost five years old, and doesn’t smell brand, spanking new anymore.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” Todd said. I shook myself awake.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “About...?”

  “Oh, this and that. My car. My income. The house I’m showing Gary Lee and Charlene tomorrow. Whether I can find another client at the open house I’m doing for Tim this weekend.”

  Or if I’d find myself gagged and tied to a chair instead. Maybe I ought to ask Todd to join me so I wouldn’t be alone, just in case something happened. But he lived an hour away, and it wasn’t fair to impose upon him, plus – honestly – I had my doubts about just how effective he’d be. Todd’s just so... civilized, and I couldn’t picture him standing up to four masked men – or even women – in coveralls and ski masks. He’s more the type who’d nail them to the wall in a courtroom later, after someone else had arrested them.

  “You need a husband, Savannah,” Todd said, and shocked me into full alertness. I gaped at him, too stunned to speak. He wasn’t going to propose, was he? Surely that was a little precipitous? We’d only met again a few weeks ago; before that we hadn’t seen each other for four years. I wasn’t even sure his divorce from Jolynn was final.

  But he didn’t say anything else, and I began to breathe again. I could even speak. “I’m not so sure about that. The first time wasn’t such a success that I’m in a hurry to try again.”

  “Maybe you married the wrong man,” Todd said. I glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at me, just keeping his attention on the road.

  I guess I couldn’t very well deny that. However... “Sometimes it’s difficult to know who the right man is. I mean, Bradley seemed like the right man when I married him. Just like you thought Jolynn was the right wife for you when you married her.”

  Todd didn’t answer, and pretty soon we were rolling to a stop outside the gate to my apartment building on East Main Street. Todd started to open his door, and I said quickly, “You don’t have to walk me up. It’s late, and...”

  “Don’t be silly.” Todd got out of the car and came around to my side. “Of course I’ll walk you up. A single woman can never be too careful, especially in a neighborhood like this.” He looked around, at the skyline a mile or so to the west, and the cars whizzing by on their way to Ellington Parkway, just to our north. The urban grit was a far cry from sleepy Sweetwater, but not that bad, all things considered.

  “East Nashville is actually a very desirable neighborhood these days,” I said. “Home prices have doubled and sometimes tripled in the past ten years. We hardly ever have violent crimes anymore. The police have been cracking down on the drug dealers, and even the prostitutes have moved on to grimier pastures. I have a gate, and a private parking space, and a deadbolt and chain on my door. I’m as safe here as anywhere else.”

  Except maybe tiny, sleepy Sweetwater, where Todd probably wanted to see me.

  He didn’t answer, but I don’t think he was convinced. As we walked upstairs, he kept looking around suspiciously. He didn’t complain, however, probably because there wasn’t anything for him to complain about. The hallways were freshly painted and carpeted, and well lit by florescent bulbs every few feet. No dark corners where anyone could hide.

  “Well...” I said awkwardly when we stood outside the door to my apartment, “thanks for dinner.”

  Todd turned away from contemplating the hallway and focused on me. “It was my pleasure. I would be happy to provide you with dinner every night, if you’d let me.”

  “Don’t you think going to Fidelio’s every night would tax even your wallet?”

  I smiled to make it sound like a joke, when in fact it sounded like he was once more gearing up for a proposal.

  Todd smiled too, but he didn’t answer. “The Broadway production of ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ is coming to the performing arts center this weekend,” he said instead. “I’ve got two tickets for Saturday night’s performance. Would you like to go?”

  “I’d love to!”

  My mother always told me and my older sister Catherine that we should never seem too available when a gentleman asked us out, but after having looked down the business end of a gun recently, I had resolved to play a little less hard to get. All sorts of opportunities were passing me by, and there were no guarantees that they’d come my way again, or that I’d be alive to take advantage of them if they did.

  “I’ll pick you up at five, then, and we’ll have an early dinner.”

  “That sounds great,” I said. Todd leaned in to kiss me.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said when he had withdrawn. I nodded. “Contact me if you need anything.”

  I promised I would. He gave me another
quick peck, this one on the cheek, and left. I watched him walk down the hall and around the corner before I pushed the apartment door open and walked inside.

  Chapter Three

  No sooner had I kicked my shoes off and padded into the kitchen in my stocking-feet, than there was a knock on the door. I reversed direction and unlocked the door again, wondering what Todd had forgotten. Had he decided to come out and propose, after all?

  “What did you...? Oh!”

  “Evening, darlin’.”

  The man outside lacked Todd’s all-American, clean-cut good looks, as well as his $500 suit and impeccable manners. Instead of waiting for me to invite him in, he sauntered across the threshold, brushing against me on the way. Not by accident. I glanced out into the hallway – no sign of Todd – before I followed. “Come in. Make yourself at home.”

  To my dismay, my heart was thumping a little faster than usual. I was nervous, and not looking forward to teasing answers to my questions out of him. Even so, I can’t say I was terribly surprised to see him. I had called him, after all, and it wasn’t the first time he’d shown up unannounced on my doormat.

  He stopped in the door to the living room and turned to face me. “Thought I already did. Hot date?”

  “Dinner with Todd.”

  Out of my customary high heels, he seemed even taller than usual. I folded my arms across my chest. It was a reflex, although in my more lucid moments I wasn’t entirely certain whether I was trying to prevent him from seeing into my cleavage or if it was more of a defense mechanism against the man in general, emotionally as well as physically.

  He nodded. “Saw you drive up. Thought maybe he’d be staying the night.”

  “I didn’t see you,” I said, diverted. He shrugged. “No, he won’t spend the night. I let him walk me to the door and I kissed him goodnight, but that’s it. My mother always told me a man won’t pay for the cow if he can get the milk for free.”

  Rafe grinned, white teeth flashing. “So you’ll kiss Satterfield, but you won’t kiss me?”

  So much for pretending last week’s kiss had never happened...

  “I kissed you. Or let you kiss me, which comes to the same thing.”

  He shook his head. “No, it don’t. I’ll show you the difference, if you like.”

  I stepped back, out of reach. “Some other time.”

  He grinned, but let it go. “So what can I do for you, darlin’?”

  “Oh. Um… Right. I called you, didn’t I? I’m never quite sure whether my messages are going to get to you or not. Sometimes you call back, sometimes you don’t, and whoever answers the phone – Wendell, isn’t it? – never answers it the same way twice. First it was a car lot, then a pawn shop, and today he said it was a storage place. The only consistent thing he says is that you’re not there.” I realized I was babbling, postponing the inevitable, and I reined myself in. “I wanted to ask you something. Do you want to sit down?”

  He quirked a brow – usually I was trying to get him out, not in – but he didn’t comment. “Sure.”

  “The living room is through there.” I pointed. “Can I get you anything? Milk, water, sweet tea?”

  “Beer?”

  “Sorry. Although I think I may have half a bottle of Chardonnay somewhere...” I looked around.

  “I ain’t that big on wine. But I’ll take a glass of tea, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

  “Coming right up.” I walked into the kitchen while he headed for the living room. A minute later, when I entered with two glasses of sweet – iced – tea on a tray, I found him not on the sofa, where I’d expected to see him, nor by the balcony doors, looking out at the view – my second guess – but lounging in the doorway to the bedroom, assessing my queen sized bed with an experienced eye. And why I had expected anything different, I don’t know. Nevertheless, I stopped as if I’d hit an invisible wall, and blushed. One corner of his mouth curled up, but he didn’t speak.

  I prodded myself into moving, and put the tray down on the coffee table. “Here you go. It’s just instant; I didn’t have time to brew fresh.”

  “You’re slipping, darlin’. What’d your mama say?” He removed himself from the door and sauntered around the sofa to retrieve his glass. I did my best to avoid touching him when I handed it over, but without success. His fingertips brushed my knuckles, and I’m not willing to swear it wasn’t intentional. Rafe’s got the kind of in-your-face sex appeal that a lot of women – and Tim – seem to like, and although I’ve been brought up to value old-fashioned manners and decorum, I’m not entirely dead below the neck, either. Especially as he doesn’t scruple to turn the setting up to scorching hot every time he sees me.

  “Cheers.” He lifted his glass. I did the same, without thinking. “To us.”

  He drank. I hesitated, and then took a small sip from my own glass. It was just a toast, and joining in it didn’t mean that I acknowledged that there was or ever would be an ‘us.’

  “So what do you need?” He put the glass down on the table and himself on the sofa, where he leaned back comfortably. He was wearing jeans tonight, and a black T-shirt that molded to his chest and upper arms. I turned away to sit down in a chair, before he could catch me looking. He added, with a grin, “You got someplace you need me to break into for you? Or somebody I can beat some answers out of?”

  Recently, we had broken into a storage unit together, in the process of trying to discover who had murdered my two coworkers Brenda Puckett and Clarice Webb, and we had also persuaded a young man to come clean about finding Brenda’s dead body and not calling the authorities. Rafe hadn’t had to do any actual beating, but the way he had loomed over the youth, cowing him with his six feet three inches and 195 pounds of solid muscle, not to mention the demeanor he had developed in two years behind bars, hadn’t hurt. Nineteen-year-old Maurice Washington had sung like the proverbial nightingale.

  I shook my head. “I know how much you enjoy doing that sort of thing, but this time, you can give me the answers I need yourself.”

  “Shoot.” He lifted the glass and took another long draught of iced tea, throat moving smoothly as he swallowed. I wasn’t sure whether the word was an invitation to ask what I wanted, or a reaction to hearing that there was nothing macho and illegal for him to do.

  “Do you know anything about these open house robberies that have been going on for the past two weekends?”

  He put the glass down, and I thought there was a watchful look in the depths of his eyes, but it was hard to be sure. They’re so dark as to be almost black, and he’s learned to hide his feelings and reactions almost too well. “Why?”

  “Tim has asked me to host an open house for him this Sunday.”

  “Yeah? Where?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t been paying attention when Tim went over the details on Monday. “Some million-dollar McMansion in Brentwood somewhere.”

  “Better be careful then, darlin’.” Rafe picked the glass up and took another swig. The ice jingled when he put it down on the table again, empty. “So you want me to get you some protection? Gun? Knife? Something untraceable, in case you have to use it?”

  “Lord, no!” I moderated my voice. “I’m not going to walk around with a gun in my handbag, thanks all the same. I thought about it after Walker tried to kill me, yes, but I’ve decided I’m just not comfortable carrying a weapon. More tea?”

  “Not right now. You’d be more comfortable once you got used to using it.”

  “What makes you think I’d want to be comfortable using it? Deliberately shooting someone, or sticking a knife into them? No, thanks. I don’t think I have it in me.”

  “If you had to, you could,” Rafe said, in a weird echo of Detective Grimaldi’s statement from earlier in the week.

  I shrugged. “I appreciate the offer, but no. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give me some... um... personal protection? Stay with me during the open house, just to make sure nothing happens?”

  “Guard your body?” He grinned
, letting his eyes wander over it. I compressed my lips and willed the incipient blush to stay where it was. “You sure your body’d be safe with me, darlin’?”

  I hesitated. “I’d trust you to protect it from someone else coming at it with a knife or a gun.” Although not necessarily from himself. But if we were in someone else’s house, surely I’d be safe. “And I’d be happy to pay you for your time, if you’d like.”

  “With your body?”

  “No! Don’t you ever think about anything else?”

  “I’m a man,” Rafe said, as if that was an explanation. Maybe it was. “It’s a tempting offer, darlin’, but I’ve got plans for Sunday afternoon.”

  I’d been afraid he’d say that.

  He added, blandly, “Maybe you should stay home. Find someone to take your place, or just call Tim and say you’re sick.”

  “I can’t do that,” I said. “Maybe you could call in sick from whatever it is you’re doing, to stay with me.”

  “If I do that, you’re gonna have to make it worth my while.”

  “Forget it.” I said. “I’m not going to sleep with you just so you’ll give me two hours of your time.”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll ask Todd instead.”

  He smirked. “You think Satterfield can protect you? I could take him with one hand.”

  “But you’re not going to be there, are you?”

  I smiled. Neither of us spoke for a moment, until I changed the subject. “I had lunch with Lila Vaughn earlier today; did I tell you?”

  “Who?” The question sounded innocent, but I thought I could detect that same watchful quality, this time as an undertone in his voice.

  “The Realtor who was hosting the open house that got robbed last weekend.”

  He nodded. “Friend of yours?”

  I explained how I knew Lila. “And she was telling me about what happened, and about this man who tied her to the kitchen chair.”

  “So?”

  “She said she suggested that maybe he’d like to tie her to the bed instead.”