A Dangerous Dance (14 page)

He nodded. “That's where their past began. We can grab some drive through on the way. Don't know about you, but I'm starved.” He opened the door for her, then went around and got in behind the wheel. “I can't believe Titus let you get away so easily.”

“I can't either. Maybe he's taken with Leda.” Dorothy exchanged a mischievous look with him.

“That would make him too human,” Remy said. “He'd never stand for it.”

Dorothy chuckled. Titus did like to cultivate a spooky, emotionless mien. Maybe it was a body guard rule or something.

They made a copy of the letter, dropped it off with the detectives assigned to the case, endured a brief lecture on tampering with evidence, then grabbed some lunch and arrived at the library in record time. She was surprised to meet Titus outside.

“I thought we got rid of him too easily,” Remy muttered as they approached him.

“What happened to Leda?” Dorothy asked in alarm.

“She changed her mind, decided she needed to stay and help make arrangements for Vonda's funeral.”

“Oh.” Dorothy was surprised, but she had sensed a lot of strength in Leda. “I'll call her later then.”

“She said she'd call you in a few days. Or if she thought of anything,” Titus said. “I guess we all had the same idea. I can cover this, if you have things to do.”

“And miss the hunt?” Dorothy shook her head. “You know me better than that!”

His smile was rueful, but worried.

“What can happen inside a public library?” she asked. “Besides, this time I think we're one step ahead of the killer instead of behind.”

“Maybe,” he said. “If we knew how he was staying ahead, I'd feel better.”

The news of Vonda's murder had preceded them to the library so, sadly, it was easy to convince her co-workers they needed to look around the area where Vonda worked. They were far too shocked to think clearly.

At first they stayed together, working systematically through the reference area and even going through her work locker. They got nowhere except in accumulating dust.

“This is crazy,” Titus said. “We need to split up. This is going to take forever.”

Remy frowned. “As long as we stay within voice contact, I guess it would speed things up. Titus, why don't you go right, I'll go left and Dorothy, you start in the middle and work your way—” he stopped. Their gazes connected and the cool air around Dorothy warmed a bit. She may have lost track of time looking at him. He was easy on the eyes. If only he'd be as easy on her heart...

Titus cleared his throat, shattering the moment, or whatever it was.

“I'll figure something out,” she said. Her lips twitched, but whether it was for Remy, who looked embarrassed or Titus, who looked annoyed, it was hard to say. Both men moved away from her, both stopping often to look back. She gave each a sweet smile before moving into the stacks. When she realized that she was in the history section, her blood quickened and her awareness of either man faded. Could their past also mean
the
past?

The place felt like it had been forgotten in the past. The air was musty and humid despite the chill of the building pumped in by the air conditioning system. The books smelled old, too, and many of the spines lined up in rows were cracked and worn from use or years.

It was an interesting problem. How could Vance be sure that no one would look for a particular book, assuming he'd used one as a repository for whatever it was he'd hidden? These books couldn't be checked out. They had to be used in the library. But even the most oblivious researcher would probably examine any piece of paper inserted into a book. It was simple human nature.

What if he'd thought of that and put it in a book shelved out of order? It was still a risk. He'd have to assume that someone wouldn't notice the book and correct the omission. If this was the only place she had to hide something, where would she put it?

She'd either go high or low. Dorothy got on her knees and checked the bottom two rows for anything that looked out of the ordinary, but didn't find anything. Okay, that left high.

“Dorothy?” Remy's voice was a bit sharp, as if she'd been quiet too long. “Titus?”

“I'm still here.” She found a rolling ladder and pushed it into the opening of the aisle assigned to her. Once up the steps, she studied the top two rows in the first sections, but again, found nothing that looked out of the ordinary.

“Titus?” Remy said, very sharply. “You all right?”

“Yes.”

Titus sounded annoyed, though that wasn't unusual these days. This wasn't good for him. Despite the lingering imperatives of her past, she'd been able to move forward. His life had stopped the day Magus died. She'd been selfish. She'd allowed him to be her anchor without considering the effect it was having on him. His jealousy of Remy was her fault, too. She'd set him up as protector, confessor, and on occasion, a friend, her one constant in a life spinning out of control. Then she shut him out when she brought Remy in to the situation. How would she have felt if their situations were reversed? She probably wouldn't have handled it as well, she realized. She was a punk.

He didn't know he didn't need to be jealous of Remy, that they were playacting. Well, Remy was anyway. She wasn't sure anymore where reality began and ended on her side. There was too much happening for any kind of clarity. But even if Remy and she parted ways, at some point in her life she did want love. She wanted romance and a husband, a family, an ordinary life. She wouldn't need Titus then and she didn't need him right now. He was more in the way, because he was so focused on protecting her. She needed wings right now, not cement boots.

She hadn't learned a lot from Magus. He hadn't been in her life long enough, but one lesson had been thoroughly learned. Life was about risk. Living
was
risk. The only real tragedy would be dying without having lived or loved. Feelings weren't always reciprocated. When she'd realized who she was and what she was worth, she'd known that finding real love wouldn't be easy. Maybe she wouldn't be loved, but she intended to love someone and to live her life fully and completely.

“Are you all right?” Titus asked her.

She looked down and found him watching her from the darker end of the row. As usual, his thoughts were his own, but his body language radiated his intent. He was hungry for any clue to who hired Vance. He throbbed with it.

“You look tired. Why don't you take a break?” She expected him to reject the suggestion, but to her surprise, he hesitated before nodding.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked.

“I don't think anything is allowed down here,” she said. “I want to check a couple more rows, then I'll probably take a break, too.”

He nodded and left, the echo of his footsteps fading in the direction of the stairs. With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the unyielding line of books. This was crazy. No place here was really safe.

Unless...

She lifted her gaze to the top of the cases, just barely within reach of her fingers. If she stood on tip-toe...she reached up, but felt only dust.

“Yuck.” She got down, moved the ladder a few feet and tried again. More dust. Another few feet and she found more dust. At the end of the row, her tiptoes were getting tired. Her dust-coated hand felt dry as sandpaper. And she needed to pee.

On her tip toes the last time, she felt along the top, straining to reach at least the middle of the case. Just as she was about to give up, her finger bumped something. Her first impulse was to call out, but what if this were a false alarm? She'd feel silly for having distracted Remy, particularly because she really wanted to distract him in her direction. She sighed, reaching up to try again, but could still only bump the edge. Maybe if she tried from the other side? She scooted the ladder around and this time was able to move the book her direction and grab it. It was so coated with dust, the cover almost wasn't readable. Almost. Through the layer of dust, she could faintly see the title

The Wizard of Oz.

“Did you find something?” Titus asked.

She jumped. “I thought you were gone?”

“I'm back,” he said. “Did you find something?”

He sounded odd, though she couldn't place how or why. She hadn't planned to start cutting him out of the loop. It was instinct that had her shelve the book, as if she'd just pulled it out. “I thought so for a moment, but no. Nothing yet.”

With a stab of worry, she realized she hadn't heard anything from Remy for a few minutes. “Remy?”

No answer. “Titus?”

“Wait here.” With the silence of a stalking cat, he disappeared around the corner, leaving only a disturbance in the dusty air to mark his passing. Instead of comforting, she found it disturbing he could move so quickly and quietly. What if the killer were as adept?

The air felt colder around her and she felt exposed and isolated, now that she didn't dare call out to either man. She quietly pulled
Oz
back off the shelf, wiped it as best she could. Trying to shield her actions with her body, she briefly thumbed through the pages, but found nothing that jumped out at her. No papers or writing on the fly leaf, front or back. After a quick look around, she tucked it in the waistband of her jeans, against her back.

The silence grew more dense and menacing. She had to break it.

“Titus? Remy Mistral?”

Perched up on the ladder, she felt like a sitting target, rather than above the fray. After a brief inner debate about staying or going, she climbed down and padded down the aisle in the direction of the stairs. She wanted to look for the guys, but she'd seen enough movies to know that was a bad idea. She needed help first and then they could search.

She reached the end of the aisle and stopped. What if someone were waiting for her to emerge from the stacks? She tried to quiet her own breathing, reaching out with all her senses for any hint of danger or an indication of a malignant presence. As she strained, she heard movement. Slight at first, but then more definite and in the direction Remy was working.

“Dorothy?” Remy sounded both groggy and worried.

Dorothy started toward him. It wasn't wise, but she couldn't help herself. She had to get to him. There was an impression of movement behind her, but before she could react, a hand came over her mouth. She struggled against the strong smell that filled her nostrils, but it was a battle she'd already lost.

Strength left. Darkness engulfed.

* * * *

Suzanne Henry found Bubba Joe staring out the window of his office. He'd been happy when Vance died and the lawyer, but the news Vonda Vance was dead had turned him moody and dangerous. What she didn't understand was why?

“What's wrong?” she asked, even though she hated drawing his attention to her when he was like this.

He shrugged, but turned to look at her, his gaze the half-shamed, half-embarrassed one he'd been throwing at her since the first time he strayed from their marital bed. Amazing that she'd cared back them. Briefly. Until she realized he was incapable of feeling shame or remorse. He just hated getting caught. For short time, his view of himself as this great guy was disturbed.

He still had the remains of the charm he'd had back then, though he and it were starting to smudge around the edges, as if not just his character were losing cohesion, but his body was, too. He'd managed to slather a patina of sophistication over his trailer park trash past, but it was still there and popped out on occasion.

To her amazement, no one but her seemed to see the dark side of Bubba Joe. His utter and complete ruthlessness. His lust for power that was even greater than his lust for women. His inability to be anything but completely selfish and completely self-centered. The world revolved around Bubba Joe. And what he wanted he got.

She felt a chill as the pieces began to fall into place.

“You're the one who hired Vance, aren't you?” Every time she'd thought he'd gone as low as he could go, he'd find a way to go lower. These days it was all she could do to pretend to look adoringly at him when they were in public. Most of the time she had to pretend he was someone else. She'd gotten real good at pretending. Thank goodness she didn't have to fake it in their bed anymore. She wasn't that good.

He seemed to hesitate and she knew he was trying to find the right lie to tell her. Like she couldn't see through anything he threw at her. If he needed to lie, that meant he was involved.

She sank into a nearby chair. “How bad is it?”

Usually it was women. Bubba Joe thought his confessions were good for her soul. If she were wholly engaged in cleaning up his messes, then she wouldn't have time to have political ambition for herself. Suzanne let him do it, because at least then he wouldn't have her killed. It wasn't a good thing to know too much of Bubba's business or get in the way of what he wanted.

Like Magus had.

Bubba Joe shrugged, looking predictably sulky. Truth was an anathema to him.

“Vonda Vance? Clinton Barnes? They your work, too?”

“No!” He was so quick, so emphatic, she had to believe him, though it went against the grain. “I don't know who did that.”

Bubba Joe looked puzzled and annoyed. It wasn't a good look for him. And he wanted to run the most powerful nation in the free world. Maybe we'll be to Mars before it happens, she thought wearily, and I can go live there.

“Tell me everything and give it to me straight.” He wouldn't, of course. He couldn't. Suzanne had learned that as soon as something happened, he'd begin to shape it into a version more favorable to him. “You hired Vance, using what money?”

“I'd picked up some cash along the way.”

Translation: he'd been pocketing cash given him by political donors who didn't want to be tracked on any reports. Funny how they always knew who could be bribed. It was like calves who knew their own mother.

“Well, you remember how Magus was back then. Everything was Wizard this and Wizard that. Oh, we just
love
the Wizard.”

And how could a Bubba Joe compete with a Wizard?

“And then he passed you in the polls.”

“He passed everybody. He was going to be elected. He wanted to be president!”