Suspicion (21 page)

  He couldn’t let that happen. He had to do something. And he had to do it fast.

  Walking back to his desk, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. He waited until the person at the other end said hello before speaking. "We’ve got a problem."

  Stifling a yawn, Kate leaned back in her swivel chair and stretched as she glanced at the clock on her office wall. Ten-fifteen. Dear God, had she really been working all that time?

  After leaving the Europa Hotel at four, she had driven to Potomac to spend a few moments with Alison and then had come straight to her office to start her preliminary work on the Fox trial. Frankie had offered to stay and help, but Kate had sent her home.

  And now it was time for her to go home, as well. Not that she was all that anxious to return to her big empty house and face yet another long, solitary evening. But it had to be better than the office.

  Pushing back her chair, she stood up and started transferring her files from her desk to her briefcase. She hoped that one of the other attorneys was still here and wouldn’t mind escorting her down to the parking garage. She didn’t normally worry about working late, but thanks to Douglas, who hadn’t minced his words, and Alison’s eerie feeling that she’d been watched at K-Paul’s, paranoia was slowly sinking its nasty claws into her.

  Fortunately, the light in Don Hatfield’s office was still on. Don was a bright young man Ian Baxter had hired right out of law school earlier this year. Eager to pass the

  bar exams on his first try, he often stayed late to take full advantage of the firm’s extensive law library.

  "I was just on the way out myself," he said in answer to Kate’s request. "I’ll be glad to walk down with you." They rode the elevator to the underground garage where the staff of Fairchild Baxter parked their cars. "Coast is clear." Don grinned as they both stepped out of the elevator. "Do you want me to walk you to your car?"

  His snappy army green Jeep was parked only a few feet away and Kate shook her head. "No need for that, Don. I’m just down the ramp."

  "All right, then. Good night, Kate."

  "Good night. And thanks."

  She had almost reached her Saab when the young attorney passed her. He beeped his horn once and waved. She waved back.

  As the Jeep disappeared around the bend, Kate felt a sudden prickle on her neck. "Come on, girl," she said with a short, nervous laugh. "Don’t go soft on me now."

  Then she saw it. The shadow against the wall, just to her left. A very large shadow, rising slowly…

  A spark of fear leaped in her breast, but before she could scream or even turn her head to see who was there, a black-clad figure sprang at her from behind a van.

  Her first impulse was to run, but as she took her first step, a thick arm locked around her windpipe and a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. "Don’t move," a rough male voice warned. "And don’t scream. If you do, I’ll kill you."

  Certain he was going to kill her anyway, Kate did the only thing she could think of. She rammed her elbow into his groin. Hard.

  "Ahh!" He let go of her instantly, releasing her so quickly, she stumbled forward, nearly losing her balance.

  Her briefcase and her purse fell to the ground, but she didn’t stop to retrieve them. Willing her shaky legs to support her, she started running down the ramp, screaming as loud as her lungs would allow. In a few leaps, the man had caught up with her. "You bitch," he snarled as he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her back. "You fucking, no-good bitch. You wanna play games? Huh?"

  Kate cried out in pain, but this time he didn’t even try to silence her. With an angry grunt, he threw her against the concrete wall. She hit it with a thud.

  Pain shot through her and she slid slowly to the ground, her cheek scraping against the hard, grainy surface. Turning her head, she saw the man coming toward her, both arms hanging at his sides, shoulders low. It was the first chance she had had to take a good look at him.

  What she saw sent a chill down her spine. He was huge, dressed in black from head to toe. A ski mask from which only his eyes and mouth could be seen concealed his face. His stance was that of a wrestler, readying for another round.

  "What- what do you want?" she stammered. "If it’s money-"

  His mouth pulling into a sneer, he lifted her off the floor as though she were a rag doll. One hand curled into her coat, he shoved her against the wall, pinning her there. His other hand seized her jaw in a talon like grip, slowly squeezing.it. "Stop yapping, bitch, or you’re gonna get hurt."

  She stared into his eyes. They were small and dark. And mean. The eyes of a killer, she thought with a shiver.

  "You’ve been a big pain in the ass," he continued in that rough, chilling whisper of his. "You stick your nose where it don’t belong, and you ask too many fucking questions. You gotta stop. You hear me, bitch?"

  Kate tried to nod, but his grip was like a vise. She imagined that huge hand sliding down to her throat, squeezing the life out of her.

  "You hear me?" he repeated.

  She made a strangled sound. He released the hold on her jaw just enough for Kate to nod her head very slowly, very carefully. She half expected something to crack in the process, or a handful of teeth to fall out of her mouth. But nothing happened.

  "Good."

  He brought his face to within an inch of hers, and for an insane moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She could smell his breath, a mixture of stale cigarettes and garlic. Repulsed, but knowing there was no way of escaping him, she flattened herself against the wall.

  "If you don’t stop asking so many damned questions about Gina Lamont, or if you go shooting your mouth off to the cops about you and me talking, I’m gonna come back and hurt you real bad." He thrust his pelvis against her. "Or maybe next time, I’ll go after that sexy daughter of yours. I saw her with you the other day. She’s real pretty. I could have some real fun with a number like that."

  It was him. He was the one who had been watching them at K-Paul’s on Saturday. The blood rushed to her ears. "If you touch her, I’ll kill you," she snarled from deep in her throat.

  The pressure on her jaw tightened again. "You smart mouth little bitch, you ain’t gonna do nothin’."

  Suddenly, he let go of her face, then her coat. Sliding to the ground, Kate watched as he slowly backed away. Her well-trained mind took mental notes. His size: about six-four. His weight: two hundred and fifty pounds. Also,

  a Brooklyn accent, foul breath. And a fixation with the word "bitch."

  He pointed a finger at her in a last, silent warning, then, moving with surprising speed for such a big man, he ran down the ramp and disappeared.

  Not waiting for the nervous churning in her stomach to subside, Kate pushed herself up, holding on to the wall for support. If she could only see the car he was driving, memorize the license plate…

  From the level below, she heard a car door slam shut, an engine start. Before she could even move, the car had taken off in a squeal of tires. "Damn."

  She had to get out of here, make sure Alison was safe. Breathing hard, she took a step, waited a beat, then took another, testing her balance. She experienced no dizziness. That was good. No doubt she’d be black-and-blue by morning, but nothing seemed to be broken. She was all right.

  Moving slowly and with great care, she walked back to her car, stopping to pick up her briefcase and her purse from where she had dropped them.

  Lowering herself into the driver’s seat and turning around to lock the door required some effort, but she managed it. Once settled, she waited until she felt certain she could talk coherently before picking up her phone and dialing the Fairchilds’ number.

  Joseph, who never went to bed until everyone else had retired, put her through to Douglas immediately.

  "Douglas, listen to me and don’t ask any questions." She paused to take a breath, then grimaced. "I want you to go check on Alison, make sure she’s all right."

  "Of course she’s all right-"

  "Go check on her," she snapped. "Now." Her voice softened. "Please, Douglas, do as I say. I’ll explain later."

  Douglas was back within two minutes. "She’s fine. Sound asleep. Now will you please tell me what this is all about? Have you heard from Eric?" His voice turned menacing. "Has he threatened you in any way? Or Alison?"

  "No." She was so close to losing it that she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from bursting into tears. "Don’t let anyone near her, Douglas."

  "Kate, for God’s sake, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you."

  "Nothing’s wrong." She leaned against her seat. "No, that’s not true. I-I’ve been attacked, Douglas."

  "Dear God! When? Where?"

  "Just now. In the office garage."

  He muttered a short, harsh oath. "Have you called the police?"

  "No!"

  "Well, you must. Right now. And then I want you to come and spend the night here."

  "That would alarm Alison."

  "She doesn’t have to know."

  "No. I just called to make sure she was all right. He-" Her voice broke. "He threatened her, you see…" This time, she was unable to stop the flow of tears.

  "That bastard."

  "That’s why I can’t call the police. He said if I did, he’d be back. And he would go after Alison."

  "But who is he? What did he want with you?"

  "I’ll explain everything in the morning, Douglas. Until then, not a word of this to Alison."

  She hung up before he could protest further.

  Wearing her Victoria’s Secret blue silk pajamas, Kate sat on her living-room sofa, her fingers curled around a steaming cup of tea. The long, hot bath had had a soothing effect, but although she felt the heaviness of fatigue dragging at every muscle, she was too keyed up to go to bed.

  She ached in a dozen different places, but nothing felt broken. There was a throbbing along her cheekbone where her face had scraped along the garage wall, and a pounding in her head that was slowly receding, thanks to the two Excedrin she had taken earlier.

  The incident kept replaying in her head over and over. She had no doubt that her attacker was the same man Tony had seen outside Lilly’s building the night of her murder. The question was, was he acting on his own? Or was he working for someone else? Maddy Mays, for instance. Either way, it was a miracle he hadn’t killed her.

  She was still pondering over the matter when the doorbell rang.

  She froze, instinctively glancing toward the heavy dark green drapes she had pulled shut earlier. The living room overlooked the street, and although no one could see in, whoever was outside must have seen the light filtering through.

  The bell rang again, two quick little jabs. "Kate, open the door. It’s me. Frankie."

  At the familiar voice, Kate heaved a sigh of relief and went to open the door. Her secretary stood on the threshold, the lapels of her orange parka pulled around her face to shield her from the blustery wind.

  Standing beside her, a look of concern etched in his handsome features, was Mitch.

  Before she could open the door fully, he was inside. "Are you all right?" he asked, gently gripping her shoulders. "Are you hurt?" His gaze took a hasty inventory.

  "I’m fine." Being careful not to move too quickly, Kate disengaged herself. "What are you two doing here?"

  Frankie walked past her and closed the door. "Douglas called me. He told me what happened and asked if I could stop by to make sure you were all right."

  "Did he also tell you to bring the police with you?"

  "No, that was my idea."

  "And a bad one, Frankie." She looked from her secretary to Mitch. "Having you here could make things worse."

  "What things?" Frankie asked as she threw her coat on a chair. "Douglas said you’d been mugged. Is that true?"

  Rather than answer her, Kate watched Mitch as he set what looked suspiciously like an overnight bag on the floor. "What’s that?"

  "A change of clothes. I’ll need them in the morning."

  "If you think you’re staying here, you’re crazy."

  "God, Boss, look at you." Ignoring Kate’s protests, Frankie laid a gentle finger on Kate’s scraped cheek. "What did that beast do to you?"

  "He roughed me up a little," Kate said irritably as she walked slowly back into the living room. "And I survived, so quit acting as if I were hanging between life and death."

  She sat down, pressing her back against the green plaid pillows while Mitch removed his ski jacket. Kate’s eyes shifted to the service revolver attached to his belt. "Don’t make yourself comfortable, Calhoon," she snapped. "I told you you’re not staying."

  "I’m afraid you’ve been overruled, Counselor. Frankie and I have already conferred about this. We both agreed that, at least for tonight, you need someone to watch over you."

  "How did you get elected?"

  "The law of logic. I’m a better match for the guy who attacked you than Frankie."

  "That’s silly. You know as well as I do that he won’t be back."

  "This was no mugging, was it?" Although his voice was calm, the concern in Mitch’s eyes was obvious.

  "No." She shifted her body, a movement that drew a sharp protest from her battered body. "It was no mugging"

  Frankie came to sit next to her. "What happened, Kate? Who did this to you?"

  Kate looked at her, then at Mitch. She knew the reliability of the first, but was still unsure about Mitch. Could she trust him with a secret? With her daughter’s life?

  The look in his eyes, a mixture of worry and contained fury, convinced her that she could. "I couldn’t identify him." she said. "He wore a face mask, but I’m certain that he’s the same man Tony saw outside Lilly’s building the night of her murder. In fact, except for his facial features, which I couldn’t see, he fits his description to a T."