Against the Fire (16 page)

“Poor kid.”

“Rosa’s beside herself. I’m making arrangements to take vacation time next week so I can be available if she needs me.” And keep trying to find the man who assaulted her son. “I’ve got plenty of days accumulated since I haven’t taken any time off since I started working at the firm.”

“You’re a good friend, Mattie.”

Mattie took a sip of sake, enjoyed the interesting nutty taste and the warm relaxing sensation. “So what’s the occasion for the unexpected visit?” Picking up a shrimp, she dipped it into some hot mustard sauce.

“The occasion is, I called Sam McBride.”

Mattie’s head shot up. “You’re kidding. What did he say?”

Tracy grinned. “We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I figured if I took the leap, you should, too. I came by to convince you to call Gabe.”

Mattie toyed with her food. “Actually, I saw Gabe today at the hospital. He thinks the attack on Angel had something to do with the fires.”

Tracy’s eyes widened. “How does he figure that?”

“Apparently Angel had been sniffing around, asking a lot of questions about who might have set them. Gabe thinks someone wanted him to stop.”

“Wow, that’s scary!”

“I know.”

Tracy heaped another spoonful of chop suey onto her plate. “So what else happened? Between you and Gabe, I mean?”

“He asked me to come over for supper on Saturday night.”

Tracy’s fork paused halfway to her lips. “You said yes, right?”

“Sort of.”

Tracy squealed.

“I can still back out,” Mattie said. “Maybe I should.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The man is a total hunk. No one needs to get laid more than you do and besides, if it doesn’t work out, you can always dump him.”

Mattie swallowed the bite she had taken and laughed. “Well, there is that, I guess.” But she didn’t think it would be that easy to end an affair with Gabe.

She wasn’t sure she would want to. “He’s trying to figure out who set the fires. After what happened to Angel, I told him I wanted to help him.”

Tracy sat back in her chair. “I don’t know, Mattie. If Gabe’s right and Angel was attacked for asking questions, getting involved could be dangerous.”

“I’m the one who got Angel involved. I have to do this, Tracy. I have to make sure the man who attacked him gets caught.”

Tracy sipped her sake. “If the police can’t find him, what makes you think you can?”

“The police have dozens of cases to work. I’m taking time off. I’m making this a priority.”

Tracy looked uncertain. “I don’t know, Mattie.”

“Gabe’s an ex-marine. I sure I’ll be safe enough as long as I’m with him.”

A sly smile curved Tracy’s lips. “Maybe you’re right. You should be safe enough. As long as you and Gabe stick together.”

Mattie laughed, not fooled for a moment. Then her laughter slowly faded. For the first time, she realized how much time she would be spending with Gabe.

Suddenly, trying to help seemed like the dumbest idea she’d ever had.

Fifteen

Gabe had trouble sleeping. Between erotic dreams of Mattie and nightmares of flames roaring into the sky, he finally gave up at four o’clock, dressed in his gym clothes and headed for the Las Posas fitness center on the second floor of the building.

He worked out for over an hour, lifting weights and moving from machine to machine until he was drenched in sweat. He bench-pressed his usual two-hundred-seventy pounds, his biceps straining as he reached the end of his workout.

Relaxed at last, he grabbed his towel off the hook, draped it over his shoulders and headed back down to his condo. Every other day, he jogged. He liked to stay in shape and he made it a priority. Today, he had hoped that working out would curb a little of his desire for Mattie.

So far that hadn’t worked.

With a sigh, Gabe finished his shower, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and headed for his truck. With Mattie sitting next to him all afternoon, it was going to be a hellish day. Wanting her and knowing he would have to wait was a bad idea of fun.

But tomorrow night he intended to have her and one thing he knew.

Mattie Baker was worth the wait.

After her Friday morning run, Mattie spent several hours at the office, making arrangements to leave at noon and take the next week off. Besides being able to visit Angel at the hospital, she planned to use the time to find the man who had committed the brutal assault on the boy.

A little after noon, she drove over to the Family Recovery Center. She had no regular hours but they were used to her dropping by to see if there was anything they needed her to do.

“For once, everything is running smoothly,” said receptionist Sophie Dominquez, a thirty-year-old Hispanic with a social science degree.

“I may be a little hard to find next week. If you need me, call me on my cell phone.”

“All right. But what you’re doing for Rosa Ramirez and her son is more than enough.”

Mattie just nodded. A memory arose of Angel lying in the ICU, a mass of cuts and bruises, his skin so pale she barely recognized him. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, knowing there was nothing she could do and planning to stop by the hospital later to see him.

From the center, she drove to the Zigman Gallery, another loose end she needed to tie up. Enrique and some of his friends had dropped off a carload of paintings for the owners to look at. Mattie wanted to find out if they liked Enrique’s work.

Barbara Zigman, looking elegant yet trendy with her spiky black hair and wearing a short white skirt, black-and-white flowered top, and long strands of heavy black beads, greeted her as she walked into the gallery.

“Mattie! It’s good to see you.”

“I hope you don’t mind my dropping by. I thought maybe you might have had time to look at some of Enrique’s paintings.”

“I’ve been remiss in not calling. Sal and I have just been swamped lately. But we looked at Enrique’s work and it’s wonderful. We’re thrilled you brought him to us.”

Mattie smiled with relief. She had hoped this would be the gallery owners’ reaction but she couldn’t be sure.

“I’ll tell him to come by and talk to you,” Mattie said.

“I don’t suppose he has a cell phone. If he does, I’d like to have his number.”

“I…um…don’t have it with me.” Since he didn’t own a phone and his family certainly couldn’t afford to buy him one. “I’ll tell him you want him to call you.” And figure a way to get him the phone he needed.

“So what happens now?” Mattie asked as they strolled through the gallery, Barbara pointing out a new piece of work here and there.

“Once Enrique’s signed an exclusivity contract with us, we’ll want to have a show.” Barbara smiled. “I think it’ll be a great success.”

Mattie returned the smile. “That’s wonderful.”

They talked a while longer. Mattie promised to have Enrique come by the gallery and made a mental note to see if Sid Weiss would take a look at the contract before the boy signed it.

Finished with another errand, she used her cell to call Gabe. This afternoon, they were going back to the neighborhood where Angel had been found after the attack. They planned to canvas the area. Both of them were eager to see what they might turn up.

Gabe was working at a property he owned called the Egyptian Theater, she discovered when she phoned. He gave her an address in Deep Ellum and she told him she would meet him there.

“See you soon,” Gabe said in his deep, sexy voice as he hung up the phone and Mattie’s stomach lifted.

She tried not to think what might happen tomorrow night. She hoped she would be able to keep her mind in control and not listen to the seductive yearnings of her body.

Sam knocked on Tracy’s door at exactly seven o’clock. She didn’t keep him waiting, just opened the door and invited him in, smiled at him as he walked into her living room.

Man, she had a kick-ass smile.

“Hi,” he said a little lamely.

“Hi, yourself. I’m ready. I just need to grab my purse.” She was wearing a denim miniskirt that showed off her long, sexy legs. Her sleeveless white cotton blouse dipped low enough to reveal the shadowy cleavage between a pair of luscious breasts.

For an instant, his resolve weakened. If the lady wanted sex, who was he to object?

Then she returned with her bag and he looked into her pretty face, read her uncertainty, and knew it wasn’t going to happen. Not if he wanted to see her again.

Which he did.

They walked outside to his metallic red Dodge Dakota, a smaller pickup than Gabe’s big GMC. He’d had it washed and detailed. With the chrome wheels he’d added last year it was a good-looking truck.

Tracy cast him a glance. “I kind of took you for a pickup man.”

He grinned. “Work I do, it’s pretty much a given.”

“Actually, I think it’s kind of sexy.”

Sam clamped down on a rush of heat as he helped her into the truck and waited for her to fasten her seat belt. “How do you feel about motorcycles?”

Tracy’s blond eyebrows went up and she grinned. “I love ’em.”

“Good. Next time we’ll take my Harley.”

Tracy’s grin slipped a little as he slammed her door and walked to the driver side of the truck. He could tell she was already thinking there probably wouldn’t be a next time.

Sam refused to be daunted. Instead, he drove to the restaurant and parked in the lot, then helped Tracy climb down and led her inside. Bella Sera was full, but he’d called Tony ahead and a table waited for them in a quiet corner in the back room.

The place was hokey Italian. From red-checked tablecloths to little red-glass candleholders flickering in the semidarkness. Bread baskets in a dozen different shapes and sizes hung from the ceiling, and wicker-wrapped Chianti bottles lined the walls.

Tracy surveyed her surroundings as they followed the hostess to the table he had reserved. “So your friend owns this place?”

Sam nodded. “Tony Pierucci. We went to high school together. It was his dad’s place before he died. Tony and his brother, Bobby, run it now.”

They sat down and opened their menus.

“You like red wine?” Sam asked.

“Definitely. Especially with Italian.”

“Good girl.” Sam ordered a bottle of Chianti, which a black-haired waiter named Marcus opened and poured into glasses on the table. Sam ordered spaghetti and meat-balls. Tracy chose veal parmigiana.

“So were you born in Dallas?” Tracy asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Sam nodded. “Pretty standard stuff. Dad was a plumber. Mom worked in a grocery store. They helped me get through college, but I had to work to make the extra it took to pay the bills. I’ve got a brother in California who’s a stockbroker. I’m doing what I love and so is he.” He lifted his wineglass and took a drink. “How about you?”

For an instant, Tracy glanced away. When she looked at him again, there was something disturbing in her eyes. “Let’s just say my childhood wasn’t the best.” She pasted on the flashy, false smile he had seen a hundred times at Club Rio. “But I’m doing great now. That’s all that matters.”

Realizing the question had upset her, he steered the conversation in another direction. They talked about real estate and he mentioned he was working on the remodel of a house uptown.

“That’s how Gabe got started,” he said. “I’ve flipped a couple of houses so far and made some pretty good bucks. Of course, with the market the way it is, I might have to keep the one I’m working on for a while.”

“I could try selling it for you.”

Sam just shrugged. “I was kind of thinking I might move in, rent the condo I’m living in now.”

“My dad was a lawyer. We lived in a fancy house when I was a kid. But it was never a home.”

“So your parents didn’t get along?”

She got that funny look on her face again. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Like how good the food is here.”

Sam managed a smile. “It’s always been terrific.” He went along with her change of subject but it bothered him the way she refused to talk about her past. Whatever made Tracy the person she was today, Sam would bet it had a lot to do with her childhood.

As they finished their meals, Tracy flashed him a bright, sexy smile.

“I like you, Sam McBride,” she said. “Why don’t we go back to my place and fuck?”

Sam nearly spewed the mouthful of wine he’d just taken. He swallowed, took a steadying breath. “I like you, too, Tracy Spencer. Which is exactly the reason I’m not taking you to bed. At least not tonight.”

Her lips turned down in a pout. “What is it with you, Sam? Don’t you want to make love to me?”

Beneath the table, Sam reached for her hand, pulling it over into his lap. He was sporting a raging hard-on and had been since he’d seen her in the doorway of her apartment. “What do you think?”

Those pretty green eyes went wide as saucers. Sam let go and she jerked her hand away. “Oh my God!”

He just smiled. “I told you, I’m not interested in a one-night stand. If you’re honest, I think you might want something more than that yourself.”

She stared down at the table. “I can’t handle relationships, Sam. If I keep it just sex I don’t have to worry about messing things up.” She stared at him across the table. “And for your information, I don’t drag every guy I meet off to bed.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He left money for the bill and a tip and rose from his chair, helped Tracy to her feet. “So why don’t I pick you up tomorrow morning? We’ll go for a ride on my Harley, catch some lunch along the way.”

One of her light eyebrows arched up. “Still no sex?”

“Not yet.”

Tracy’s features softened. She looked at him differently than she ever had before. “Fine. What time?”

“How’s ten-thirty?”

“Okay.”

He reached over and caught her hand, started leading her toward the door. “Come on. Time to go home. Whatever you may think, I’m a man and I’m only human.”

Tracy’s eyes sparkled and she laughed. It was a musical sound and freer than anything he had heard from her before.

Sam glanced at her soft, trusting smile and knew he was doing exactly the right thing.

Saturday night arrived whether Mattie wanted it to or not. Standing in front of the mirror, her stomach churned as she finished applying her mascara, then a light dab of blush. On the concrete countertop beside her, Tigger watched with interest, his ears alert and his golden eyes following her every move.