JAKrentz - Uneasy Alliance (21 page)

T
o Abby's surprise and wry amusement, Torr was extremely agreeable the next day. He agreed to begin their new living arrangements in her apartment when she explained that she ran her business from there and it would take time to move it. He agreed to take her to lunch on the wharf before they left Seattle and he agreed to let her drive the BMW part of the way back to Portland.

"Why?" was all he asked when she made the last request.

"Because I've never driven a foreign car."

"Oh." But he was extremely gallant about the matter, nevertheless. She knew he didn't entirely relax, however, until they were out of the city traffic, heading south on Interstate 5.

"What's so amusing?" he inquired several miles down the road.

"I was thinking how amenable you've been today."

He flicked her an assessing glance. "Satisfied males tend to be amenable."

"Really? Are you satisfied?"

"Almost."

"Ah, you mean you won't be entirely satisfied until I'm living in your house, right?" she ventured curiously.

He shrugged. "Where we live isn't all that important. Spending a couple of weeks in your apartment while you work on transferring your business arrangements to my house isn't a problem. I like your apartment."

"Do you? Why?"

"Because it has you written all over it, I imagine."

"I know," she said, sighing, "undisciplined, impulsive, haphazard…"

"And soft and warm and interesting," he finished firmly. "Look, I know this is going to seem rather staid and conventional of me, but I feel I should take this opportunity to remind you that there is a speed limit in this state."

"Oh, yes?"

"You're exceeding it," he pointed out very politely.

"A little too much excitement for you?"

"I'm afraid so," he murmured blandly. "Pull over. I'll drive."

"So much for your amenability," she groaned.

T
hey arrived in
Portland in the late afternoon. The bridges into the heart of the city were jammed with rush-hour traffic and instead of fighting it, Torr pulled into the parking lot of a florist and disappeared inside. Abby watched him go, smiling to herself. What kind of flowers would Torr select this time? When he returned he carried a small bunch sheathed in plastic and a low jade-green bowl. "Knowing your taste in flower arrangements, I doubt if you have anything really appropriate to arrange these in so I bought a bowl and a frog, too."

They stopped at another point and bought groceries. It was beginning to feel very settled and comfortable, this business of shopping with Torr, Abby decided as she selected mushrooms and pea pods. Almost a married feeling.

But not quite. She realized she was getting possessive. She wanted it all.

By the time they had stored the groceries in the back of the BMW, the traffic had cleared and they made their way downtown to Abby's apartment building.

"I don't know how you do it," she marveled as Torr found his usual parking spot on the street in front. "The odds against finding a place right here must be a million to one."

"I guess I just live right."

They carried the suitcases and the groceries and the flowers to the elevator and then down the hall to Abby's door. As soon as she rounded the corner, Abby saw the sheaf of delivery notices hanging on the doorknob.

"Oh, dear, I hope the vitamins all got delivered okay," she said worriedly, fishing out her key. They were stacked just inside the door, several green-and-gold boxes filled with bottles of tablets. There was also a variety of notes from the saleswoman she had left in charge, explaining what she had taken to fill the orders of the rest of the sales force.

"Do these boxes arrive all the time? Day in and day-out?" Torr asked curiously.

"I'm afraid so. I need constant shipments to keep up with the demand."

"I should think there would be a more efficient way of handling the deliveries," he pointed out, frowning.

"What could be more efficient than having them delivered to my door?" she demanded in astonishment.

"At least at my place I have a spare room to stack the boxes in," Torr said, shoving a carton aside with his foot as he made his way into the kitchen.

"I should never have been gone so long," Abby said apprehensively, scanning the notes that were stacked on the nearest box. "Looks like there've been a few problems."

"You had problems of your own," Torr reminded her grimly as he unpacked groceries. "And they're not over yet."

She looked up sharply from the note she was reading. "But that private investigator will clear it up, won't he?"

"I think so," Torr said reassuringly. "The blackmailer may back off of his own accord if he realizes we've neutralized his threat."

"I still want to know who it is and why he's doing it. I just can't believe it could be Flynn. It doesn't make any sense." Abby shook her head as she started toward the bedroom to change her clothes.

Torr didn't answer her and she knew he had his own theories on the subject. Instinctively she felt that those theories were inspired by his dislike of the way Randolph had treated her. Torr's reaction was protective and very male but not necessarily logical. As Abby pulled off the cream knit sheath she had worn home from Seattle and selected a pair of jeans and a jewel-plaid shirt, she could hear water running in the kitchen. She wondered if Torr was starring dinner. He had said something earlier about running up to his house and getting some fresh clothes. Abby slipped into a pair of sandals and padded curiously back out to the kitchen.

Torr was industriously at work arranging the flowers he had bought in the jade-green bowl. He didn't glance up as Abby came to a halt in the doorway, and she smiled wistfully at his intentness. Watching him reminded her of the first time she had seen him in class.

"Couldn't wait to start arranging, hmmm?" she teased.

"I didn't want the flowers to dry out while I drive over to my place. Also," he added gently, "I didn't want you getting your hands on them first."

"No faith!"

"Oh, I have faith that you'd create an arrangement, but it wouldn't be quite the right one for this bowl. The flowers would wind up going every which way and you wouldn't have enough to work with anyhow, would you? You were always running short in class. Besides, this is supposed to be a gift to you from me."

"You know what I think? I think you wanted to create a nice severe sort of arrangement in an attempt to counter the chaos of this apartment." She glanced around at all the vitamin boxes and groaned. "I'll try and get some of those packages off the floor and into a closet while you're gone."

He frowned. "I was going to take you with me while I picked up my things." Very carefully he adjusted a stately yellow gladiolus so that it perfectly balanced the low orchid.

"I'd rather stay here and get dinner going and arrange these vitamin boxes. Don't worry, I won't mess up your flower arrangement."

"Well, I suppose it will be all right. I'll only be gone for an hour or so." He smiled wryly. "I'm getting used to not letting you out of my sight."

"If you're worried about the blackmailer, it's safe to say that the one thing he hasn't done is show himself in person," Abby pointed out logically. "He's not likely to start now."

"No." Torr arranged another little orchid with meticulous care. Then he selected a tall green leaf and arranged it as a backdrop for the gladiolus and the orchids. In all he used only three flowers and a leaf. Apparently satisfied, he stepped back to survey the creation.

"You've still got some flowers left over," Abby frowned.

"The trick is knowing where to stop."

"But what about over there on the right? You could stuff in a couple more glads and maybe a little daisy or something. It looks a little bare."

"It looks serene," Torr declared. "Mrs. Yamamoto would approve, I think."

Abby narrowed her eyes speculatively. "I still think a little more yellow in that corner would be nice."

"And then you'd want to add a little more gold over there and another leaf or two or three. Here. You can play with the rest of these leftover flowers while I'm gone."

"Okay." She accepted them eagerly.

"But not in my bowl," he added severely. "Find your own."

"I think I could really beef up the arrangement you've started," she argued. "All it needs is a few final touches—"

Torr silenced her with his fingertips across her mouth. Then he bent down and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Abby, honey, there are only two things I require of you during the next hour. One, you will not open the door to anyone, and two, you will keep your hands off my flower arrangement. Understood?"

"You never let me have any fun," she replied. But he didn't look nearly so grim these days, Abby thought contentedly as he picked up his jacket and headed for the door. In fact, with a little imagination, she could say he almost looked like a man in love. Or falling in love. Maybe very close to falling in love. What did a man look like when he was in love? The door closed behind him.

Abby stood staring thoughtfully for a long moment and then she became aware of the flowers in her hands. Automatically she glanced over at the jade-green bowl with its stylized arrangement. Dutifully she reminded herself not to get any ideas and decided to put temptation out of the way. She carried the bowl into the living room and set it down on the smoked-glass coffee table. It really was an elegant arrangement, she decided. Elegant and strong.

Of course, a bit more yellow and gold on the right side wouldn't be amiss, Abby told herself. Ah, well, no sense starting off her new domestic life on the wrong foot. Virtuously she carried her flowers into the kitchen and stuck them at satisfyingly wild angles into a glass vase. Then she set about restacking and arranging vitamin boxes.

It was while she was shifting a carton of vitamin C tablets that she realized she had been recently forgetting to take her daily supplements. The thought made her smile. Something about Torr Latimer lent strength and vitality enough to her life. She didn't seem to need so many vitamins with him around.

She was trying to stack three boxes of multiple vitamins on top of a high mound of mineral supplements when the doorbell chimed. The boxes cascaded to the floor and she kicked at them disgustedly as she went to answer the door.

"Who is it?" Abby wiped her perspiring forehead on her sleeve.

"Consolidated Delivery Service," came back the laconic answer.

"Oh, lord! More boxes. Just what I need." Dismayed, Abby stalked across the room and yanked open the door.

"You guys are certainly working late this evening. Couldn't you have saved this delivery for tomorrow? I don't even have enough room to store—Oh, my God."

The last three words came out very slowly and evenly as she finally realized who was standing outside her door.

"Hello, Abby. It's been a long time."

Flynn Randolph was inside the apartment before she could even think of trying to get the door shut. He wrenched her hand off the knob with a touch of the violence she remembered so well, and then he smiled. It was the kind of smile she had once thought handsomely sardonic and had eventually realized hid a menace that was not governed by logic or self-control.

"Don't scream, darling. My temper is a little short at the moment. You remember my temper? You used to complain about it a great deal there toward the end." His fingers slid around her throat and he pressed just enough to remind her of their last encounter. The one in which he'd lost his control completely and struck her.

"What are you doing here, Flynn?" With an effort of will Abby kept her voice calm as she moved out of his grip and stepped back. Staying calm was the only way she knew to handle him.

"I thought it was time you and I renewed old acquaintances, sweet whore. Come on, Abby. You were never dumb. You know why I'm here."

"You're the one who's been sending the pictures, aren't you?" She tried to speak easily, as if they were involved in only a casual conversation.

"Of course." He smiled and there was an unnatural excitement in his dark eyes. "You thought you could hide out with your latest lover, didn't you? But he's gone now. I watched him leave. He brought you back home and dumped you, didn't he? Knowing what you are must have made him sick. You're lucky he didn't do to you what he did to his wife. I remembered that story. I remembered it very well when I found out who had taken you away to the Columbia River gorge. A little research in the public library turned up the clippings. Bet that put a scare into you, didn't it? Finding out you'd sought refuge with a murderer?"

"He's not a murderer and he'll be back soon, Flynn."

"You're lying, bitch." The evil smile disintegrated. "He's dumped you. I've been watching your apartment for the past couple of days. I knew it was only a matter of time before he dropped you off. Where were you going to run next?"

Apparently Flynn did not know about the side trip to Seattle, Abby thought. He didn't realize that his extortion scheme might have been neutralized.