Touch of Madness (12 page)

“Including Dylan?”

“Including Michael.”

Her eyebrows rose so high they disappeared beneath her still-damp bangs, and her mouth formed a small “o” of surprise. Michael had been my first love, my first real love, and she knew it. Mary had been a freshman when I was a sophomore. We’d played softball together. She knew better than most the special place Mike would always have in my heart.

The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity. When she finally spoke she sounded tired. “You sure as hell don’t make things any easier on me, Reilly.”

“It’s not deliberate.” I turned away from her, so that she wouldn’t see my expression. “But it may be moot anyway.”

I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my skull. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly gentle. “Let me guess, you had a fight?”

I nodded, I didn’t completely trust myself to speak, damn it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head no. It would’ve been nice to talk to someone about it. But while I like Mary, she had the whole pack to think of. Besides, this was private business between Tom and me.

“Fair enough,” she agreed. “So let me change the subject. I brought you a check for the rent on Dusty and Rob’s apartment.”

I didn’t have to pretend to be shocked. “You don’t have to do that.”

She gave me a stern look. “Kate, it was nice of you to let them stay here without paying, but Dusty’s our surrogate and our responsibility. We pay our bills.” She grinned, and it softened her features. I’d never noticed before that she was pretty. But she was, with her shining hair and her dark eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “Besides, I know you can use the money. You haven’t been able to take a courier job since you got injured.”

She held out a check, face up. I blinked at the amount. “Mary, that’s—”

“Nine months’ rent, plus a damage deposit based on what you charge Tom. Take it.”

I looked at the check. She wasn’t wrong. I needed the money badly. I hadn’t been in great financial shape before I got laid up.

She set the check onto the counter. “Look, I have to think of the good of the pack. Do you really think you’d be all right with Tom having a child with another woman?”

I turned away, walking across the room to stand by the windows. I looked out at the rain-soaked scenery rather than try to meet the intensity of her gaze. “I can’t have children, Mary. The only chance I’ll ever have of being a parent is either adoption or as a stepmother.” There wasn’t a lot of emotion in the words. I’d lived with the knowledge for a long time that I wouldn’t be bearing children. Usually it didn’t bother me. After all, my lifestyle hasn’t exactly been conducive to motherhood. I wouldn’t want my child to end up orphaned. I knew too damned well what that was like. And while Monica might be dead and gone, she wasn’t my only enemy. Not by a long shot.

“I hadn’t realized you even wanted kids.” Mary’s voice was surprisingly gentle. I shrugged. “It’s not something that comes up in casual conversation. But yeah, I do.” I could see her reflection in the glass of the windows, the image distorted by the rivulets of water running down the outside of the pane.

“No, it’s not.” She sighed again. “I need to think about this and talk it over with my people.”

I nodded my assent. “I’ll have Rob or Tom get your pants back to you.” She retrieved her coat from the bathroom and left without another word.

8

« ^ »

The power came on around 10:00 A.M. and the rain slowed to a drizzle. I hopped in the shower and started cleaning up. Normally, I prefer a bath, but I was getting a late start on the day. Of course, as soon as I got the shampoo in my hair the phone started ringing. Rather than run naked through the house with soap in my eyes, I let the machine take the calls. I did hurry the process up a bit, and when I was out and dry I pulled on my robe and rushed downstairs and played back the messages.

The first call was from the attorney. Closing arguments went well, the jury was in deliberation. He’d be in touch. My stomach tightened into a painful knot. Closing my eyes, I said a quick prayer as the next message cued up in the machine.

“Kate, it’s Mike. You’re a genius! He’s perfect! And he said he might know someone else to cover the second shift! I should’ve known you’d come up with the answer. Sorry I was such an ass yesterday. Call when you get the chance.”

Hunh? I had no clue what Mike was talking about. Who was perfect? It certainly sounded as though he’d found someone to work with Bryan, but I sure as hell hadn’t sent anyone. My heart was thundering in my ears as I picked up the phone and dialed. I hadn’t forgotten that Bryan had been kidnapped once already because of me. He was an absolute innocent, and the perfect hostage. Mike still blamed himself for the carelessness that made Bryan’s capture possible, but if he believed I’d sent someone…With trembling fingers I punched in the number to the church. A familiar voice answered the line on the second ring. “Our Lady of Perpetual Hope, Rob speaking.”

“Rob?”

“Katie! I got the job! Tom talked to me about it at breakfast this morning and I came right over.” Excitement bubbled in his voice. “I really needed the break! Thank you so much! I swear I’ll do a good job, too. I know how much your brother means to you.”

He was babbling. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t have spoken anyway. I was just too relieved. Rob might be young, and a little immature in some ways, but I trusted him, and as a wolf, he was certainly strong enough. He’d guard Bryan and take care of him. Between him and Mike, my baby brother would get the best possible care and protection. Thank God… and Tom.

“Kate? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I said the words with a smile. I meant it. If the trial went badly and I lost, the insurance would pay. I could deal with performing the investigation for the Thrall. But the thing with Bryan; that had me terrified. Tom had known it, and despite our fight, he’d found a solution. “Tell Mike I apologize for being an ass yesterday.”

He snorted lightly and let thick, teasing sarcasm play through his voice. “You, an ass? No, surely not.”

“Rob—” I wasn’t really angry, but I put a warning in my voice.

He let out a joyful bark of laughter. “Gotta go. Catch you later, Reilly.”

“Later,” I agreed.

I hit the button to end the call, then pressed again for a line out. I forced myself to hit the number for Tom’s cell phone quickly, before I chickened out and hung up the phone. I owed him a thank you, and an apology. I’m pretty good at gratitude— apologies, though, not so much. But I’d do it. First, I owed it to him. More important, he was a terrific guy, and I didn’t want to lose him for any reason.

“Hi.” His voice sounded tentative; cautious.

“Hi.” I was suddenly tongue-tied. There were so many things I wanted, needed to say, and I couldn’t quite come up with the words.

“Kate…I—”

“Tom.” We each spoke the other’s name simultaneously, then laughed.

“Awkward, isn’t it?” he admitted.

“I’m so sorry!” I sighed. “I didn’t mean to cut you out. I planned to tell you. But then I met with Mike, and you’d fixed dinner, and I got distracted.”

Tom heaved a long sigh. “I know. I realized that when I took the time to think it over. But Kate, you have a cell phone. Why the hell didn’t you just call me?”

“You were going to the…well, the pack meeting. Can you imagine a worse possible time to call and bring this up?

Well, and it’s just really not a good idea to bring it up on the phone at all.”

He thought about that for a long moment. “You’re right. And it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for the pack to overhear you telling me that you’re going to be working for the vamps either.” He spoke slowly, as though he was choosing each word with extreme care. “Look, we need to talk. Why don’t you meet me for lunch at Guiseppe’s. I’ll set the reservation for 11:30 so we can beat some of the lunch crowd.”

Guiseppe’s was a very nice, very expensive, Italian restaurant on the 16th Street Mall. It caters to the very wealthy business types and is a “must” for celebrities passing through the Mile High City. Normally, neither Tom nor I go to restaurants in that price range. Yes, the food is wonderful, but I just can’t justify the extravagance, even with the check from Mary. I could hear a small choke in my voice when I responded. “Guiseppe’s?”

“Yes, and I’m paying—no arguments. I want to make up with you for not giving you the chance to explain.”

“You could make up with me at the Spaghetti Factory for a lot less.” I was only half-joking.

“I know.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “But they aren’t open for lunch and I want to see you dressed up. You won’t do that if I don’t pick somewhere nice.”

He knows me well. I consider dressing up a nuisance and wearing panty hose to be one short step above torture. Tom’s solution to that, of course, was to suggest garters and thigh highs. His birthday is coming up soon. I plan to surprise him by doing just that. But not today. I didn’t have the time or money to go shopping for lingerie before lunch.

“Fine, Guiseppe’s it is,” I agreed. “And Tom—” I took a deep breath. I knew it should be easy for me to tell him, but it never is.

“Yes?”

Hesitating would make me sound uncertain, so I just blurted it out. “I love you.”

He paused, and his voice softened. “I love you, too.”

I was smiling when I hung up the phone. He loved me. He forgave me. My stomach fluttered with happy butterflies.

Tom wanted me dressed up and at Guiseppe’s by 11:30. I’ve never been one to buy a lot of dressy clothes. I have business clothes. I have casual clothes. I just didn’t do dressy often enough to need a wardrobe for it. He’d have to live with something he’d already seen on me.

I flipped through the various hangers in my closet looking for something suitable. I finally realized there was an outfit he hadn’t seen me in. I’d bought it for Joe’s graduation from medical school. I’d only worn it that one time a few years ago, but fortunately I’d chosen a classic look that hadn’t gone out of style. The dress was sleeveless linen, with a low scoop neckline, in a small floral print on a daffodil-yellow background. The collarless jacket was a matching solid yellow. The color looked good on me, the tailoring was feminine enough that Tom would like it, and comfortable enough that I’d be able to move in it. Somewhere in the back or bottom of the closet there were even matching shoes and a purse.

Of course it was a spring outfit, not exactly perfect for a winter lunch, but I told myself I refuse to be dictated to by fashion norms. Besides, it was clean.

I was dressed, pressed, and wearing makeup and jewelry by the time the cab arrived at the front door. It was a bit of an extravagance to take a cab just those few blocks, but I’d gone to a lot of trouble with my appearance. And damn it, if Tom could spring for lunch at Guiseppe’s, then I could spring for a short cab ride—hopefully, the cab driver wouldn’t mind a handful of change for his tip.

At exactly 11:28 the cabbie dropped me off at the side street that intersected Sixteenth Street nearest the restaurant entrance. Tom came running over as I was pulling my wallet out of my purse. He paid the driver before I could, giving him a hefty tip. As the cab drove off he looked me up and down, letting out a whistle of appreciation. “I like the outfit. I haven’t seen that one before.”

He planted a kiss in my hair before I could speak, and I found myself inhaling deep to catch the clean scent of him. It wasn’t cologne, it was just Tom, and my heart tightened in my chest.

“I save it for special occasions.”

“Ah. And this is a special occasion?”

Any date with Tom was a special occasion, but I’d feel like an idiot saying so. So I blushed and stammered, which made him chuckle low in his throat.

“You look pretty spiffy yourself.” I wasn’t the only one who thought so either. More than one woman walking along the mall was staring at him. He was worth a stare, too, no doubt about it. The tan dress pants he wore had been perfectly tailored to show off the best backside God had ever put on a human male. His shirt fit just as well, showing off a broad, muscled back and narrow waist. His belt and shoes were shined to a high gloss and were almost exactly the same shade of brown as his hair. He was absolutely gorgeous and completely unaffected by it.

“You know, there are lots of people in this world who think kissing in the rain is romantic.” He gave me a sly look.

“Wanna try it?”

I laughed, but he kissed me anyway. It was warm, sweet, and yes, very, very romantic.

“We’d better get inside.” Putting his hand around my waist we walked to the front of the restaurant. He held open the door for me, and in we went.

The first thing that struck me was the smell of freshly baking bread. It made my mouth water. I wasn’t the only one. Behind me, I could hear Tom’s stomach rumbling as the maître d’ led us to an intimate, linen-draped table at the far side of the restaurant. Already it was beginning to get crowded as men and women in business suits settled down to power lunches. A large group was already at the long table in the corner, laughing and teasing a man who was retiring. Black balloons with snarky sayings danced in the breeze from the heater vents. At least a dozen servers in starched white shirts and crisp black pants were moving swiftly through the dimly lit room to a counterpoint of clinking glass and muted voices.

The maître d’ managed to scoot my chair in beneath me as I sat without either of us looking too awkward. At his signal, a young man came over with a pitcher of ice water and our server appeared with menus and a bread basket and introduced himself.

There were no prices on my menu. To me, this is never a good sign. I frowned, and Tom caught the look. “It’s all right, Katie. I can afford it. Really. Remember I told you the rent you charge was saving me a bunch of money every month. Well, today you’re getting some of it back.”

I made little grumbling noises and he laughed. “You worry too much.”

I didn’t have a ready answer to that, and I was spared the necessity of coming up with one by the appearance of a stranger at our table.

He was tall, thin, with close-cropped silver hair that was a shade or two lighter than the gray of his suit. The white shirt he wore had enough starch to stand up without him in it. His perfectly knotted raw silk tie was exactly the same shade of pale blue as his eyes. He held out a manicured hand to me and introduced himself in a voice that would have screamed self-confidence if screaming just weren’t so tacky.