Valentine's Day Is Killing Me (20 page)

Shanna didn’t respond.

“I have to update my boss on the project.” Angie shoved her hands in her hair. “Fuck!” She pivoted on one spindly heel and stormed out.

Calder stared after Angie as the room suddenly plunged into silence. What the hell was that? Interference or not, he had to get Shanna away from that woman.

“Can we have a rain check on the dinner?” Shanna asked in a tight voice. She was doing her best not to look at him. “Like tomorrow night?”

“It won’t be Valentine’s night,” he reluctantly reminded her.

“I know.” She nodded her head briskly. “It’s okay.”

But this time, it wasn’t okay for him.

“I better get to work.” She turned and looked at her desk, and Calder saw the glitter of tears.

“I’ll wait for you.”

She blinked and her mouth parted open in surprise. Calder almost felt offended by her reaction.

“You don’t have to,” she said with shy uncertainty. “I might be here all night.”

More reason for him to stay. “And I’ll be in my office until you need me.”

Calder liked the way she was staring at him. It made him feel powerful.

Who was he kidding? He was getting a buzz from it. She usually had that awed and dazed expression when he took her to his bed. That look was even more potent outside the bedroom.

He brushed his mouth against her cheek, inhaling her scent and enjoying the softness and heat of her skin. He paused, savagely reining in his impulses. He quickly strode out the door before he did something uncivilized and wound up with rug burn on his knees.

He might get the hang of this Prince Charming thing. Either that, or it’d kill him.

“Are you crying?” Heather asked, her suspicion loud and clear through the telephone.

Shanna wiped the moisture lying right under her eyelashes. “No.”

“Uh-
huh
. So…Psycho Boss expects you to stay late and you told her to take this job and—”

“No,” Shanna interrupted, squeezing the tissue against her nose.

“But—but—but—” Heather spluttered. “Calder asked you out! On Valentine’s Day! This is monumental!”

“I’ll go out with him tomorrow,” Shanna said as she tossed the tissue into the wastebasket. A night with Calder was the most important thing. The date was no longer crucial, although she’d prefer something sooner than later.

“It’s not the same,” Heather said.

Shanna drew the phone away, and stared at it before placing it back on her ear. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Neither can I. But you know what I mean.”

She did, just as she knew she couldn’t alter the chain of events. Shanna sighed in defeat. “I better hang up before Angie finds me on the phone. Just don’t expect to see me on the bus.”

“What I don’t understand,” Heather quickly added, “is why you aren’t fighting for it. You could tell the bitch that you aren’t going to make the deadline and there’s no way you’re going to work late.”

“And after I do that and get fired—which would be the perfect ending to this holiday—do I get to move into your place, and have you financially support me?”

“Forget that,” Heather replied. “You move in with Calder.”

Shanna felt her stomach do a funny little jump. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s a mercy date.”

“Oh…” Heather said. “So
that’s
why you’re not fighting for Valentine’s night.”

Shanna glanced at the door as she heard fast, angry footsteps thudding down the hallway. “I hear Angie coming,” she whispered, leaning down toward the phone.

“Okay, okay. But all I have to say is that Megan had better be black and blue Monday morning or I’ll do the honors for you.”

“Sounds good.” She hurriedly hung up the phone and placed her fingers on the keyboard as Angie rushed in. Shanna glanced out of the corner of her eye, but Angie made a beeline to her office. When her boss slammed the door behind her, Shanna slowly exhaled.

She absently wondered if there were any countries that didn’t observe Valentine’s Day. Shanna grabbed her computer mouse and started searching online. She might just go ahead and find out how much international flights cost. While she couldn’t do anything about it now, there was no way she would suffer through another Valentine’s night.

Shanna stretched her arms overhead and groaned. It was 9:00 P.M., her fingers were stiff, her back was sore, but she was buzzing with energy, wondering if she could salvage any part of Valentine’s night.

Don’t get your hopes up.
She needed to approach the night with no expectations. Especially since it was probably a mercy date. But could she get some mercy sex with that? No, she shouldn’t think of that. It was too presumptuous. Wasn’t it?

Shanna rang Calder’s office, glancing at the wrinkled wrapper and bread crust from her deli sandwich that he’d dropped off hours ago. “Hey, I’m done,” she said breathlessly when he answered.

“I’ll be right down.”

Was she imagining the dark promise lurking underneath his words? And was mercy sex worse than no sex? And would it help if she managed to get him stripped naked in her bed by midnight? Because then it would still be Valentine sex.

She pondered the question as she took the last sip of her hazelnut latte. A smile slowly formed on her lips as she remembered Calder surprising her with the large cup made just the way she liked it. Shanna sighed and closed her eyes as she felt the caffeine hit. She hadn’t had a latte for six weeks. It beat a box of chocolates any day.

Logging off her computer, Shanna paused while grabbing her purse and glared at Angie’s closed door. She hadn’t heard a thing from the woman since she stormed in there hours before. And that’s the way Shanna preferred it.

She would have liked to continue the silent treatment by leaving without saying good-bye to her boss, but what was the point in that? She wanted Angie to know just how long she’d stayed.

Shanna strode to the door and knocked loudly, but there was no reply. Yep, the silent treatment continued. She listened at the door, but she didn’t hear any noise.

She knocked harder. “Angie?” Jeez. Her boss could be such a big baby sometimes. Shanna creaked the door open, hoping she wasn’t going to interrupt another X-rated videoconference. “Hey, Angie?”

Angie was sitting at her chair, her head resting against her desk, turned toward the computer. The screen was blank, indicating the screen saver had turned off hours ago.

This is
so
unfair. Rage bloomed and stung against her ribs. She had been doing the work of three people, and her boss was in here taking a
nap
?

“Yo, Angie!” she said loudly, stomping around the desk to face her lazy boss. “I’m going now. Okay?”

She faced Angie and drew back. Alarm tingled in the back of Shanna’s neck as the fine hairs on her arm stood to attention. Something was wrong.

Angie didn’t wake up, but her eyes were wide open. Her lips were parted. Her skin didn’t look right.

Shanna cocked her head to the side. That was weird. It almost looked like Angie was…dead.

Calder was in the hallway strategizing how the evening was going to end—preferably with Shanna in his bed, underneath him, over him, and all the prepositions and positions that were humanly possible—when he heard her cry out.

The scream was primal and blood-chilling. Calder bolted into a full run. “Shanna?” he called, careening into her department.

Fear, icy and tight, gripped his heart as he ran to her desk. She wasn’t there. A quick look at the other cubicles showed that they were empty.

So where was she?

“Shanna!” He ran by Angie’s office and stopped at the doorway. The first thing he saw was Shanna standing at the desk. Her arms were wrapped tightly against her midriff, but she was visibly shaking.

He glanced at where she was staring with wild eyes. Angie’s head rested on the desk, pitched forward as if she had fallen asleep. Dread filled his chest as he slowly walked over to where Shanna stood and looked at Angie.

The woman’s eyes were open and stared blankly at him. Her lips and skin were blue. Oh, yeah. That woman was dead.

“Don’t touch anything,” Calder told Shanna, unable to stop staring at the stiff, almost rigid body.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Shanna whispered.

He studied Angie’s desk. It was cluttered with flowers, files, chocolates, reams of paper, gift boxes, a travel coffee mug, and a teddy bear. But no blood. “I’m going to call Security.”

“Okay.” She didn’t move.

He made himself look at Angie, but Calder didn’t see anything that would give him a hint of what happened. As far as he could tell, there was no sense of panic in Angie’s last moments. No outstretched hand or contorted expression. Not a hair was out of place.

He slowly surveyed the room. The bookcases were crammed with awards and plaques. The computer equipment hummed quietly. The desk and chairs were in the same spot as always. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. There was no sign of struggle. “Was anyone here this evening?” he asked.

Shanna shook her head dazedly. “No.”

He cast a sharp look at her. “Are you sure?”

She pulled her attention away from her boss and met his eyes. “I can see and hear everything that goes on in this department.”

“Then what happened here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you have anything to do with this?” He ran through the list of possibilities. Accident, self-defense…

Her mouth slowly dropped open as realization hit. “What?” She nearly hissed the word. “No!”

He held his hands up. “Just asking.”

Shanna took a step back, her eyes widening. “How could you even suggest such a thing?”

Calder motioned at Angie. “I find you standing over the body of a woman you hate.” Obviously the question wouldn’t help his new romantic image, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility.

She put her hands on her hips. “Do you think I have it in me to kill someone?”

He never said the K-word, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. “I’m trying to find out how much I need to protect you.”

Shanna’s eyes grew impossibly bigger. In fact, she was looking at him as if he were insane. So much for being her knight in shining armor.

“Are you okay?” Calder asked.

“No.” She hunched her shoulders and closed her eyes. “I think I’m going to be sick all over the floor.”

“The cops won’t appreciate you contaminating the crime scene.” Calder placed his hand on her back.

Shanna flinched, and he silently prayed it wasn’t because of his touch.

“What makes you think a crime occurred?” she asked, finally moving toward the door. “For all we know, she could have keeled over from a heart attack.”

It was possible, but his instincts were screaming
foul play
. “Do heart attack victims turn that blue?”

She looked over her shoulder at Angie. “And she
still
looks good. Damn it.”

Whew, Calder thought as he gently guided her out of the door. He was worried for a minute there, but Shanna was back to normal.

After spending most of the evening in silence, the crime scene was almost deafening. Plainclothed and uniformed officers crowded her department. The atmosphere buzzed with urgency, interspersed with jolts of heightened activity.

Since Shanna wasn’t allowed in her cubicle, she took the opportunity to station herself at Kerry’s desk and look through the drawers. She learned more about her coworker than she ever wanted to know.

Shanna grabbed a women’s magazine off Kerry’s desk and flipped through it. She stopped at a romantic quiz. “If you were a famous lover in royal history, who would you be?” she read aloud softly. “a) Cleopatra, b) Wallis Simpson, or c) Grace Kelly.”

Well, that was a no-brainer, Shanna decided with the wiggle of her eyebrows. It was “c” all the way.

“If you chose Grace Kelly,” Calder said over the cubicle wall, “you got the answer wrong.”

She glared at him. “There’s no right or wrong answer,” she answered primly.

“Yep.” He rested against the wall. “You picked ‘c’.”

“Lucky guess.” She slapped the magazine closed and paused. “How did you know?”

“Because she was the closest one to a fairy-tale princess.”

She felt her jaw tighten. “That’s not why I chose her.” At least, it wasn’t the
only
reason.

“Suuuure.”

She tossed the magazine back onto the desk. “Who did
you
pick for me?”

His slow grin turned her inside out. “I’m not telling.”

Shanna scowled at him, wishing her heart didn’t kick up a beat at the sight of one of his rare smiles. “You think you know me and how my mind works, but you don’t. Now go back to your corner.” She motioned for him to leave. “You’re not supposed to talk to me while they investigate.”

“Why are you mad at me?”

Was he serious? “You think I”—she dropped her voice a level—“did it!”

“No.” He splayed his hands over the wall. “I
asked
if you did.”

Didn’t he get it? A guy who was head over heels in love with her would never ask. Come to think of it, neither would a guy deep in infatuation. Or attraction. “This day truly sucks,” she decided. “It’s an omen.”

“Not that the world revolves around you or anything,” Calder muttered dryly.

“Okay. I get it.” She crossed her arms and twirled the office chair around. “I get that I’m selfish and self-absorbed.”

“I didn’t say that. You are one of the most giving—”

“And I feel like I’m being punished for asking something in return,” she said, twirling back to face him. “I wanted some romance and you acted like I was requiring you to risk your life for me.”

His face tightened. “I
would
risk my life for you,” he said in a dark, low voice.

“Yeah, I know.” Which was a romantic thought, in a disturbing way, but she wanted action! “Not to worry—I’ll probably die of extreme old age. Don’t get me wrong—I appreciate the offer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sorry. Nothing seems to come out right.” Shanna sighed. She shoved her hands in her hair. “What a day. My perfect Valentine’s Day went down the toilet, and the love of my life thinks I have homicidal tendencies.”

His head jerked up. “Love of your life.”

Jeez. He didn’t have to act all poleaxed about it. “As if you didn’t know.” Did he think she was this attentive and loving to every guy she dated? She didn’t cook, dress up, or swallow for just anyone!

Calder’s eyes glittered with a possessiveness that took her breath away. “You never said—”

“Shanna Murphy?”

“Yes?” She turned and saw a handsome man in a dark suit standing in front of her.

“Sergeant Donovan Anteros,” he said by way of greeting and shook her hand. “I’m the investigating officer. So what happened here?”

“I have no idea.” Which is what she’d told about a dozen other officers.

“When was the last time you saw her alive?”

“Four…” she shrugged, “four-thirty.”

“What was she doing?” he asked, scribbling down notes on his pad of paper.

“She returned from a meeting.” She pointed at the pathway Angie made hours ago. “She went straight to her office and slammed the door.”

The sergeant’s brow wrinkled. “Did she do or say anything unusual?”

“No, she was bitchy as usual.”

A pause hovered between them. The officer looked directly in her eyes. His eyebrow quirked up.

“Sorry, did I say that out loud? God!” She thwacked her palm against her forehead. “I’ve been doing that all day.”

“You didn’t get along with the victim?” he asked.

Shanna made a face. “No one did.”

“Why not?”

Calder jumped in. “Uh—”

Sergeant Anteros pointed the tip of his pen at Calder. “I’ll get to you in a minute, sir.”

“Before you continue,” Shanna said, “let’s get something straight. I don’t know what happened and I had nothing to do with Angie’s death.” She glared pointedly at Calder.

“Sergeant!” one of the officers called out from Shanna’s cubicle. “Can you come here for a minute?”

“I’ll be right back,” Anteros promised.

Shanna leaned back into the chair. “Can’t wait.”

Calder watched the police officers crowd into Shanna’s cubicle. Something close to panic pressed against Calder’s ribs as he watched them point out something on Shanna’s computer. The way they whispered and put their heads together said it all. Shanna was in trouble.

She might not have had anything to do with the death, but circumstantial evidence was building up against her. He had to do something about it. But what? He looked around the department, praying for a sign, for inspiration, but came up with nothing. If it was any other day, he
might
find a clue, but Valentine’s Day screwed everything up.

“If you think about it,” Calder said, as an idea slowly formed, “Valentine’s Day is a good setup for a homicide.”

Shanna flashed him a cold look. “That is blasphemous.”

Calder felt his mouth tug up into a grin. “I thought you were off V-Day.”

“Not
that
much.”

“Come on, Shanna. On February 14 everything is off-schedule. You do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

“And isn’t that sad? Shouldn’t every day be like Valentine’s?”

He shuddered. He then noted another officer had joined the others in Shanna’s cubicle. “So,” Calder said as casually as possible, “who do you think killed Angie?”

“I don’t think you should be so hasty. Right now it’s considered a suspicious death.”

“A woman who was rabid about her health and fitness level suddenly dies. There’s an overwhelming possibility someone killed her.”

“Then that would mean I might be working next to a murderer. Thanks, Calder. Like I didn’t have enough trouble psyching myself up to go to work.”

He didn’t want to hear that. “My bet is Tony. He was the last one around her. Other than you,” he added under his breath.

“Not true. She went to a meeting after she got back from her nooner. As far as I know, her boss has no motive.”

She was right. Calder rubbed his forehead as an ache bloomed against his temples. “Damn.”

“Now that I think about it, it couldn’t be anyone I work with. Kerry and Megan left early. And honestly, I think they had better things to do on Valentine’s Day than come back to the office to bump off their boss.”

“That doesn’t leave us with a lot of choices,” Calder muttered.

“We don’t need to come up with the culprit,” Shanna said. “Let the police do their job.”

“Shanna, don’t you see? You’re the prime suspect.”

She froze. “
What
?”

“And if we don’t come up with some reasonable doubt—like, say, another suspect—in the next five minutes, the rest of your Valentine’s Days are going to be spent in prison.”

She was the prime suspect?
She
was?

Shanna stared at Calder, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Her mouth was suddenly dry. Her tongue felt thick and swollen.

She didn’t do a damn thing wrong. She stayed in her cubicle, did what was asked of her, and kept her hands to herself. Everything was going to be fine.

Riiiight.

Don’t freak
, she told herself silently. Calder was here. He wouldn’t let them take her away. Calder, the guy who just vowed to risk his life for her. The same guy who also just suggested that she’d bumped off her boss.

Shanna hunched her shoulders. She was so going to fry. To a crisp.

“Poisoned?” she heard Calder ask. Shanna froze, tuning back in to the conversation.

“There are many poisons that can cause cyanosis. You know, the skin turning blue,” Anteros explained. “Anything from a plant, spider bite, or a chemical.”

“That’s strange,” Shanna murmured.

The officer picked up on that right away. “Why?”

“I can imagine a stabbing, or a shooting,” Shanna said. “Even pushing her in front of a bus.”

“Shanna,” Calder said with warning, “now is not the time to critique a murderer.”

“But poisoning?” She clucked her tongue. “It doesn’t fit Angie. It’s not aggressive enough.”

“Murder is always aggressive,” Sergeant Anteros said.

“Well, fine.” She rolled her eyes. “If you look at it that way.”

“You’ll have to excuse her,” Calder told the investigating officer. “She’s in shock.”

“Ms. Murphy, did you bring her coffee at any time during the day?”

Shanna huffed and looked at Calder. “Why does everyone think I’m the lackey?”

Calder shrugged.

“So,” Anteros tapped his pen against his notepad, “that’s a…”

“It’s a no.” She returned her attention to the sergeant. “A big, fat one.”

“You sure? Not even a cup?”

“No one touched Angie’s coffee mug,” Shanna explained. “She never let it go. I bet she never washed it.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“Do you know what she had to eat or drink?”

“No. I only saw her drink from the coffee mug.”

“There’s more than one way to poison someone,” Calder said. “Sergeant, you might want to look at those flowers on Shanna’s desk.”