Hiding in the Shadows (2 page)

An easy story about the city officials of Atlanta was the sort of thing she could do with her eyes closed. But she had more than once juggled two stories at a time, one of them unknown even to her editor; it was her way of combining the routine work of
a magazine writer with the more gritty and urgent instincts of an investigative journalist.

“Dinah?”

Finishing her toast, she sent him a glance, brows lifting inquiringly.

“Why don’t we go away this weekend. Maybe drive out to the coast?” He had a beach house, a peaceful retreat that both of them found a welcome change from the hectic pace of the city.

Her hesitation was almost imperceptible. “I wish I could. But I have an appointment on Saturday.”

“Can’t reschedule?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” She smiled regretfully. “There’s an assistant D.A. I’m supposed to talk to, and she’s got a big case coming up, so her schedule is full. It has to be Saturday.”

Kane thought she was lying to him. “Well, it was just a thought. Maybe next weekend.” He let the exasperation in his voice lie there in the silence between them.

Her eyes flashed, but her voice remained calm when she said, “Relationships are hell, aren’t they?”

“Sometimes.”

“I gather you’re feeling neglected?”

“Dinah, don’t try to make me feel and sound like the typical selfish male.”

“There’s nothing typical about you,” she murmured.

He decided not to ask if that was a compliment. “Look, I know work gets the best of both of us from time to time, and that’s as it should be.”

“But?”

“But there’s more to life than work.”

Her lips twisted in an odd, fleeting smile. “I know.”

“Then
talk
to me, dammit.”

“I don’t talk about my stories, Kane, you know that.”

“I’m not asking you to betray a confidence. I just want to know what could be so important that you barely have time to eat or sleep these days. And don’t give me that bullshit about the story on city officials. That isn’t what’s making you toss and turn at night.”

Disconcerted, she said, “Am I doing that?”

“Yes. Since the accident.”

“Well, it’s that,” she said, grasping the handy reason with relief. “The accident. I’ve been worried about her, and—”

“It isn’t the accident. Or it isn’t only the accident. So it has to be a story. Or it has to be us.”

“I don’t know why you would think—”

“Dinah. I know when something is off-kilter in your life. And what affects you affects me. Tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it until I know what it is.”

She looked across the room at him, and something changed in her face. She went behind his chair and bent to put her arms around him. Her warm, smooth cheek pressed against his.

“I really don’t appreciate you, do I?” Her voice sounded shaken.

He lifted a hand to her head, letting his fingers slide into her silky hair because he loved it and she never minded. “No,” he said a bit dryly. “I’m a prince.”

She chuckled. “You certainly are. And I have been neglecting you, I realize that. I’m sorry.”

He looked down at her hands on his chest, the fine-boned strength of them, the red-polished nails that showed her one vanity. “So what’s going on? Is it just work, or have you met a better prince?”

She hesitated, then moved around him to lean a hip against the table and smiled down at him. “Let’s just say I’ve stumbled onto a story with a lot of potential. A story that could make my reputation.”

He frowned. “Your reputation is already made.”

“Locally, sure. Even regionally. But this … this could put my name on the national map.”

Kane felt a prickle of unease. “What kind of story is it?”

“You know better than that.”

“I’m not asking for details, Dinah. Just a general idea. Is it criminal? Political? Business?”

“Criminal and business. Maybe wanders into the political arena as well, although I’m not sure about that yet,” she replied, still smiling.

“Jesus. Dinah—”

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” She reached over and brushed the backs of her fingers down his cheek in a familiar caress.

He didn’t allow it to distract him. “Just don’t tell me you’re on your own in this. If Steve doesn’t know—”

Her smile vanished. “He’s my editor, Kane, not my nanny.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it. If there’s a criminal element in this story, things could get very nasty in a hurry.”

“I know that.” Her voice was patient. “I have been doing this for a number of years, in case you’ve forgotten.” She went to pick up her briefcase, the tension in her shoulders obvious; that alone told him he’d crossed the line.

She was already moving toward the door; it was too late to apologize, to explain that he was worried only because he cared, not because he doubted her instincts or abilities.

“Just be careful,” he called after her.

“Always,” she tossed back lightly. And then she was gone.

The silence of the apartment settled over him. With a new anxiety in his mind, the morning seemed darker and much less peaceful than it had only minutes before.

Unlike Dinah, Kane seldom had to cope with downtown traffic, which, in Atlanta, could be truly horrendous. His company was on the outskirts of the city, a five-story stone and glass structure of considerable beauty set on five acres of sprawling grounds just as lovely. It was an engineering and architectural firm founded by his father and his mother’s brother, named MacGregor and Payne; Kane hadn’t felt the need to change the name, despite the fact that his uncle, Jonah Payne, had died a bachelor, leaving his share of the business to his nephew.

Kane had been in charge since his father, John MacGregor, had taken an early retirement more than ten years before, happily setting off with his second
wife to see the world, then choosing to settle in California when his traveling was done.

Kane enjoyed the work, although lately he seemed to concentrate more on administrative details than on the engineering and architecture he loved.

Which was probably why, after Dinah left that morning, he decided on the spur of the moment to visit the construction site where MacGregor and Payne was building new offices for the mayor’s support staff and other city officials.

“Kane? What are you doing out here?” Max Sanders, the owner of the Mayfair Construction Company, approached Kane’s car briskly. He was wearing a hard hat and carrying a rolled-up set of blueprints, neither one detracting from his superbly cut dark suit—though the liberal coating of dust didn’t help. Behind him rose the steel skeleton of what would be an impressive building, which today was crawling with construction workers. Huge earth-moving machines working inside the foundation were kicking up waves of dust.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Kane said as he got out of his car. “Since when does the boss get his nice suit dirty if he doesn’t have to?”

“He has to,” Max replied with a grimace. “Somebody misread your plans and fucked up at least three of the support beams. Something the foreman said to me yesterday bothered me, so I came out this morning. Good thing I did, too.”

“It can be corrected?”

Max nodded. “Shouldn’t lose more than a day or two. And I’ve warned Jed he’d better be more careful
from now on.” Jed Norris was the construction foreman.

“How did he come to misread the plans? He’s been in the business long enough to be an expert.”

“Well, that might be part of the problem. He thinks he knows how things
should
be, so he doesn’t always consider somebody else’s opinion.”

“Blueprints are opinions?”

Max grimaced again. “What can I tell you? I had a talk with him, Kane. He’s too close to retirement to want to fuck up his twilight years, so maybe that’ll be enough. I’ll keep an eye on things, though, don’t worry.”

Kane was concerned; the job was highly visible, and if anything went wrong, reputations could end up with mud all over them. But he wasn’t about to tell another man how to do his job, and once construction began, his own responsibilities were purely advisory and explanatory.

“I’ll leave it up to you, then,” he said. “If you find something wrong on the blueprints, give me a call. Otherwise, it seems you have everything under control. So I’ll get out of your way.”

“You just don’t want to get
your
nice suit dirty,” Max retorted, his slightly wary expression vanishing, then saluted Kane with the roll of blueprints and headed back toward the site.

Kane had just opened his car door when Max returned. “By the way, did Dinah find you yesterday?”

Kane frowned. “Yesterday?”

“Yeah. About, I don’t know, two in the afternoon, maybe? I dropped by here for a look-see, and she
came around about fifteen minutes later. Said she thought you might have been out here instead of at the office. I showed her around since she seemed curious. She didn’t stay long, though. Did you two meet up later?”

Kane nodded. “Yeah, thanks, we did.”

“Okay, great. See you, Kane.”

“ ’Bye.”

Kane didn’t know why Dinah had come out there, though it wasn’t the first time she had shown up at a construction site looking for him—and finding him, once or twice. But she hadn’t mentioned it last night.

Then again, he hadn’t mentioned dropping by her office the previous week hoping to find her there.

The detour cost Kane only half an hour. It was just after ten-thirty when got to his office. As usual, his secretary, Sharon Ross, presented him with a dozen messages, which meant he’d spend the remainder of the morning on the phone.

“Shit,” he said elegantly.

Sharon grinned. “I can pretend you didn’t come in today.”

Kane was tempted, but since he only enjoyed ditching work when there was a fun alternative—and today, there wasn’t—it didn’t seem worth the bother. “No, I’m officially in today, Sharon.”

She nodded. “I didn’t add it to the rest, but Dinah called about two minutes ago.”

Kane said
shit
again, but silently. He would have liked the opportunity to finish his discussion with Dinah; being at odds with her screwed up his whole day. “Did she leave a message?”

“Yeah, she said to tell you she just found out her cell phone battery was dead, so not to worry if you don’t talk to her until tonight. She’s going to be on the run and out of her office most of the day.”

“Okay. Thanks, Sharon.”

In his office, Kane pushed Dinah out of his mind and concentrated on work. Two hours later, he was frowning down at an engineering schematic of a gravity-defying design when the door opened and Sydney Wilkes strolled in. She looked serene and cool as always, which was not unusual on a nippy October afternoon but earned her astonished stares in the heat of an Atlanta summer. Her business suit was immaculate, the beautifully tailored style and mustard color flattering her tan and pale blond hair, and she walked with the easy confidence of a woman who is beautiful and knows it.

Kane swiveled his chair away from the drafting table and looked at her with lifted brows. “Bored, Syd?”

“Is that the only reason I ever visit my favorite brother? Because I’m bored?” Her voice was rich and lazy.

“I’m your only brother—and yes, usually.” But he smiled to remove any sting from the words.

She smiled in return, the pale gray eyes they shared amused and tolerant. “All right, so nothing much is going on today in the residential arm of MacGregor and Payne, and I thought you might like somebody to buy you lunch. I ran into Dinah yesterday, and she said she’d be tied up all day, so …”

An architect herself, Sydney had chosen to specialize in residential work, whereas Kane’s preference
was commercial; it was an easy and profitable partnership. There were only three years between them—at thirty-two, Sydney was the younger. Her marriage had kept her working only part-time until her husband’s accidental death more than two years previously; she was now fully involved in the family firm. As for her personal life, though there was certainly interest from just about every male she encountered, she had been unwilling, so far, to begin dating again.

“Well,” Kane said, “if you’re buying …”

Lunch was pleasant, and the remainder of the afternoon hectic. In fact, he wasn’t able to leave the office until after seven-thirty. Determined not to be late, he rushed to pick up the Chinese food and get to Dinah’s apartment, but even so it was well after eight when he got to her building.

Dinah’s Jeep wasn’t in its parking space.

Both relieved and irritated, Kane parked his car and went inside. The security guard knew him well enough just to wave a greeting.

He let himself into Dinah’s third-floor apartment with his key, fumbled for the foyer light, and took the food to the kitchen. As usual, the place was very tidy; not only was Dinah naturally neat, but she had a cleaning service come in once a week—and by the fresh scent of lemon in the air, Kane knew the apartment had been cleaned today.

Maybe that was why it felt so … empty. He went around the living room lighting lamps and turned on the television. He changed out of his suit into jeans and a sweatshirt, and waited.

By nine o’clock, he was hungry and angry.

By ten o’clock, he was worried.

He couldn’t remember Dinah being so late before without calling. And even if her cell phone did have a dead battery, there were pay phones, weren’t there? All over the city, there were pay phones.

Kane called her office and got her voice mail; he left a brief message asking her to call him if she came in or checked in before coming home. She never carried a pager, so his options were limited.

All he could do was wait.

By eleven he was going often to the front window to look searchingly out at the busy streets. By midnight he was pacing the floor.

He only just stopped himself from calling her boss. He reminded himself that Dinah was a grown woman, no fool, and able to take care of herself. She would certainly be unhappy with him if he pushed the panic button when she was just tied up with something and had forgotten to phone.

He told himself that several times.

The streets outside got quieter and grew shiny in the streetlights because it had started to rain.