A Note From an Old Acquaintance (21 page)

“Ooooh, you’re much more versatile than that.” She kissed his neck, eliciting a groan from deep within him.

From the bowels of the building came the sounds of the elevator gate sliding upward then crashing down.

Joanna started in his arms, as if jolted by a cattle prod. “Oh, my God, Erik’s here!”

“What, how?”

Joanna bolted from the bed and began throwing on her clothes. “He’s the only other person with a key. Get dressed! Hurry!”

Brian leaped from the bed and pulled on his shirt, then his pants, nearly toppling to the floor in his haste. Adrenaline made his entire body tremble. He wanted to believe that was all it was, but there was also an undercurrent of fear and the humiliation of being “caught.”

The elevator began its upward course, the ancient motor clacking and clanking, whizzing and whirring, ticking and tocking, like an infernal clockwork symphony played by Morlocks.

“Where’s the stairwell?” Brian asked, jamming his feet into his shoes.

If it was possible for Joanna to look more panicked, she did. “You can’t go that way, they’re alarmed. She grabbed him by the arm and led him out of the bedroom. Just outside the workshop doorway, she stopped and pointed. “Over there behind the artwork. He’ll never look there.”

“Why would he be looking at all?” Brian asked, his voice rising.

“Ssssh! Please go, now,” she whispered, her eyes pleading with him.

Brian was about to protest, then realized it was pointless. He gave her hand a fleeting squeeze and headed into the exhibit section of the studio. A quick glance told him the elevator was nearly to their floor. He put on a burst of speed, ducked around one of the monolithic white partitions, and wedged himself into the shadows between two of Joanna’s larger pieces.

Scant seconds later, the elevator stopped, and the door slid open, and then a single set of determined footsteps smacked across the wooden floor. The echoes made them sound like an army on the march. After a long, pregnant silence muffled voices reached his ears. He couldn’t make out the words, but the emotions were plain enough.

He had to get out of there; his evening edit session couldn’t be postponed, and he couldn’t afford to be sitting there, crouching in the shadows like some luckless boob. He looked down to check the time and his breath caught in his throat.

Where was his watch?

Ruby realized his mistake as soon as the gate to the elevator closed, sending a metallic clang echoing up the shaft. Damn it, there went the element of surprise. Of course, the crotchety old motor wouldn’t be any quieter, either, so he gritted his teeth, grabbed the lever and pulled it, sending the lift upward.

What would he do, if by chance they hadn’t heard, and were even now asleep in each other’s arms? That image, at once so repugnant and so vivid, made his heart slam against his ribs and his breath come in short, angry gasps. He pulled the lever farther toward him, increasing the elevator’s speed.

The third and fourth floors flew by in a blur, and he eased the lever forward, slowing it past the fifth floor, slow enough to see the mountains of discarded office furniture from decades past.

And then, as he’d done countless times before, he brought the elevator to a perfect stop on Joanna’s floor. The track lighting was dimmed and shadows dominated, the only other light coming from Joanna’s fiber-optic sphere. He stood stock-still and listened for a moment, hearing nothing, then lifted the gate and walked out onto the oak flooring, the heels of his hand-made Italian shoes clacking a cadence like tap shoes.

He found Joanna in her workshop, examining a piece of PVC piping, her back to the door. Beyond her, the bedroom lay swathed in darkness. Could Weller still be in there? Would he be that brazen? That stupid? Ruby stood in the doorway a moment longer, watching her. There was nothing about her manner or her dress to suggest anything, but still....

Joanna watched Brian hide behind the partition for the piece she called “Helios 2,” then rushed back into the bedroom. She did her best to smooth out the comforter on the futon and plump both of the pillows. Did that look okay? It would have to do. What on earth was Erik
doing
here, anyway? He usually called before coming to the studio.

She heard the elevator stop, and with a tiny moan of fear, she dashed into her workshop and picked up the first thing she saw, a piece of white PVC piping laying on her workbench.

Remember your breathing
, she thought.

She heard his footsteps approach then stop. The seconds ticked off. How long was he going to just stand there and—

“Joanna?”

She turned, startled. “Erik! My God, you scared me.”

Her fiancé smiled. “I’m sorry, my love. I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to see how you were doing. Surely you heard me coming up the elevator.”

She shook her head, sighing. “You know how I am when I’m working. A bomb could go off.”

“That’s true enough.” He nodded toward the piece of piping she was holding. “New idea?”

“No, at least nothing that’s inspiring me,” she said, putting the piece of pipe down on her workbench.

“That’s too bad. Do you think you have what you need for the show?”

“I guess so,” she said, starting to putter.

“Well, how about we take a little tour and you show me what you have in mind?”

“Can we do this another time? I’m really tired, and I’ve got at least another hour here.”

“I’m tired, too, dear. Wrightson isn’t the easiest client I’ve ever had. But since I’m here....”

Joanna sighed. “All right, but let me wash up, first, okay?”

She moved through the bedroom and Erik followed. In the bathroom, she snapped on the light and turned on the water, splashing it on her face. She noticed her hands trembling, but when she checked herself in the mirror, she saw only her face and nothing of the fear that raced her heart.

When she was through, she brushed past Erik, who stood partially blocking the doorway; he grabbed her arm. “What?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, drawing her to him. It was something he’d done innumerable times, something that had always surprised and delighted her, to be swept into his embrace, smelling his aftershave, feeling his strength. Now it all felt wrong, and even his cologne was cloying.

“I missed you, too,” she said, hugging him. It was then she noticed the faint glow on the nightstand.

Brian’s watch!

“Are you okay?” Erik asked. “You’re trembling.”

Joanna pulled away from him. “I’m fine, just tired, like I said. Let’s go look at the art.”

She took his hand and led him out into the studio where her pieces were arranged.

Ruby’s mind was not on the art. They walked past each piece and Joanna made comments, but they went in one ear and out the other. Where the hell was Weller? He couldn’t have taken the stairs, so he had to be here, somewhere. Unless Mosley was wrong, unless Weller had left while the investigator was searching for a stupid pay phone. But what about his car? The car was still here.

“Erik did you hear me?”

Ruby’s eyes snapped to Joanna, who was staring at him, frowning. “Sorry, I was thinking about the building.”

“I’m glad my art is so important to you,” she said, glaring. “Why am I wasting my time? I’ve still got work I need to do.”

Ruby shook his head. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Mosley did warn him that confrontation was ill advised, and he’d been prepared for it, though not this kind.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll see you at home.”

He turned and walked to the elevator, his anger rising. He felt like a blithering idiot and that was something he could never abide.

When Brian heard the whine of the elevator, he stepped out from behind the partition. Joanna stared at him with wide eyes then threw her arms around him.

“I really thought he was going to find you,” she said, sobbing against his shoulder. “And when I saw your watch on the nightstand, I nearly had a heart attack!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said, but the doubts he’d felt earlier raised their ugly heads. They walked back into the bedroom arm in arm, and Brian retrieved his watch. Joanna moved to the window and stared out through the blinds, clearly agitated.

“Listen,” Brian said, the words catching in his throat, “maybe we should lay low for awhile, at least until after your show.”

Joanna whirled to face him, her lips trembling. “What! What are you talking about? You
have
to come!”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I do...more than anything. But with your fiancé there it’s just asking for trouble.”

“He doesn’t know about us!”

“Can you be sure of that, after what just happened?”

A look of guilty panic flitted across her features. “I told him you were helping me work on the mailer. He has no reason to think otherwise.”

“So, he knows who I am?”

Joanna nodded.

“Sweetheart, he has every reason to think otherwise. You’re a young, vital, passionate woman, and if I were your fiancé, I’d worry, too. As much as I want to come, I think it’s just a bad idea. It’ll be like shoving his face in a pile of crap.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re so considerate of his feelings. What about mine!”