Cat 'N Mouse (9 page)

“I don’t care what you have to do, but this incident does not leave this hotel, Hanes.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to do that. I can’t control the guests once they leave here.”

“Do what you can.”

Sam looked over at Alexandria who had begun pacing the floor. When she saw him, she hurried over to him.

“Can we leave now?” She grabbed onto his arms, desperation in her voice. “Please.”

“Give me five minutes.” Sam turned to Hanes. “Who’s in charge?”

Hanes pointed over to a police officer, a middle aged man with short grayish hair, medium build and trim. “He wants to see you. I told him about the threats to Alexandria’s life.”

The police had locked down the south wing when pandemonium had broken out. Guests wanted to find out about family members and it became a shouting match between the officers and guests.

Sam didn’t want to get caught up in it anymore. His only concern was Alexandria and the sooner he got her away from the nightmare, the better.

He approached the officer and introduced himself. His intent was to ask if he could get a copy of the report when they analyzed the dress. He was given a card with a number to call and an ear full about being irresponsible. There was nothing the man could say that he hadn’t already said to himself. He had messed up—big time.

“Let’s go.” Sam extended his hand to Alexandria and she looked down at the dried blood. The woman cleaning up offered him a damp towel and he wiped his hands.

Alexandria followed him in silence to the SUV. He was close enough that he could put his arm around her if need be, but she wouldn’t allow him to touch her. They exited the hotel leaving the sea of spectators behind thankful that Hanes had the vehicle moved to the service entrance.

“Why did you leave? You said you wouldn’t.” She stared at him when he opened the door for her and she got in.

“Your father called on the hotel phone.”

“What did he want?”

“Don’t know. I got half way to pick up the house phone and I just got the feeling that something was wrong.” He closed her door moving around to the driver’s side. When Sam got in, he said, “I figured you would stay put until I got back. I screwed up. I shouldn’t have left. It won’t happen again.”

“Doesn’t matter. The dinner plan that fell apart yesterday is on tonight,” she said as he started the engine.

Apparently when she’d called Robyn to tell her what had happened, Robyn wanted her to come by. Well, too bad. They were staying put once they got to the condo.

“After what happened a few hours ago? No way.”

She pulled the T-shirt down over her knees smoothing the material down her lap as if she was trying to get the wrinkles out.

“I’m not going to sit around all evening thinking about this and have you nag me about how irresponsible I was. I’m going with or without you.”

Arguing with her was pointless. She was poised for a fight and he didn’t want to get into it with her. Not in the state she was in. Maybe after he got her to the condo, she would see reason.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

“You can talk all you want. I’m going.”

•  •  •

Alexandria didn’t want to think about the man in the washroom or what he’d said as she showered, scrubbing her skin with the loofah sponge and washing her hair. She focused on Robyn and the dinner.

She had washed off at the hotel, but she could still see the pinkish tinge in the water running down the drain of the tub. The hotel manager had wanted her to take full advantage of the hair salon and clothing stores in the hotel but she’d just wanted to go home. She wanted to shower in her own washroom where she would be safe and no one would turn out the lights.

It had taken over an hour to dry her hair and gel it back into a ponytail her party look. She opted for a black and silver halter-top and black silk pant, silver stilettos and silver clutch purse, her armor.

She didn’t want Sam feeling sorry for her—she liked it better when they were sniping at each other. When you care about people they leave you. Sam was with her to do a job and when he completed the job he would leave. She didn’t want to care for him. From now on she would keep him at a distance because either way it would cost her emotionally or financially.

When she exited the bedroom, it was like
déjà vu
, but Sam didn’t rise to her bait as he had the day before. He gave her a once over twisting his lips but let her be. He opened the door.

Well, we can’t have that now, can we?

“If you have something to say, say it?” She challenged.

“I’m only the hired hand, remember?”

Good. His condescending tone was back. That’s how things should be between them. It was less confusing. At least she knew what to expect.

There was no conversation during the ride to Robyn’s house. He found a radio station playing R&B and tapped his thumbs to the beat on the steering wheel as he drove. Except for glancing in the rearview mirror a few times, he kept his eyes glued to the road ahead while the muscle in his jaw twitched. Oh yeah, he was simmering in silence. She didn’t care.

Half an hour later, they pulled up in the driveway of Robyn’s white-bricked, two-story house in Kissimmee. He got out of the SUV and walked around to open the passenger door and took her elbow as he helped her out of the vehicle. His hand brushed her back and she shivered. It had nothing to do with the warm night breeze and she could tell he knew it. That ticked her off.

Alexandria felt his gaze on her but she ignored it. Instead, she kept her eyes on the cobblestone path leading up to the front door and rang the bell before he did.

Dennis answered the door wearing jeans and a T-shirt with Woodstock written across the chest. His eyes popped opened twice their regular size when he saw her attire. He pushed the black heavy rimmed glasses with the tip of his thumb up the bridge of his nose looking at Sam.

“Robyn didn’t say we were going out after dinner.”

“We’re not,” she snapped. Perhaps she should’ve given her choice of attire further considerations. Her goal when she started out was to annoy Sam. She may have achieved that, but she was the one feeling out of place.

Alexandria glanced into the living room. Nothing matched. Any other day she would have appreciated the eclectic collection of furnishings, but not today.

“Where is Robyn?”

“Kitchen.” Dennis scratched his head looking at Sam again as if to ask what was going on. Sam stood there with his hands in his pocket reveling in her embarrassment. “Why are you—”

Alexandria headed toward the kitchen leaving Sam to make his own introduction.

Robyn glanced up from the oven then straightened up when Alexandria pushed open the wooden swinging doors. She took off the oven mitts and placed them on the counter, relief on her face.

“I’m so sorry about what happened at the hotel. Why would someone do such a horrible thing?”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Alexandria said. “Okay?”

“If that’s what you want.” Robyn had a puzzled look on her face. “I think you’re a little overdressed for pot roast?”

“Pot roast? That’s the new recipe? I should’ve known.”

“You know I’m a perfectionist. I always find new ways to revamp old recipes and call them new.” Robyn gave her the once over and then looked down at her own simple white sleeveless summer cotton dress and flat sandals. “I feel a little under dressed. Perhaps I should put on the cocktail dress I bought for the fundraiser?” Robyn mused.

“Don’t start.”

Robyn was silent for a moment, then asked, “Why are you dressed up?”

“Someone threw blood in my face this afternoon. I couldn’t very well come in that dress now, could I?” Alexandria rubbed her forehead. The tears that had been threatening to fall since the hotel were near and she swallowed hard to keep them at bay.

“What’s going on? You’re more secretive than usual.”

“I need a drink.” There was a slight tremor in Alexandria’s voice. She took a wine glass from the metal wine glass rack affixed underneath one of the cupboards. She could still hear the man’s voice and see the blood on her dress. The blood on her skin was washed off, but she could still feel it.

“You hardly ever drink.”

“Robyn, darling, you’re not reading the right newspapers.” Alexandria uncorked the bottle of wine on the counter and poured herself a glass and drank it all. She poured another and drank most of it. “According to
Gossip Entertainment Magazine,
last week I was so drunk, I slapped my date and tripped over my dress. It was a nice picture wasn’t it?” She tipped her head back, draining the glass and proceeded to refill it.

“Easy,” Robyn said and caught her hand. “First of all, that magazine is trash.” She frowned. “This isn’t like you. You never let what they print bother you.”

“Maybe it does bother me. Maybe I’m sick and tir—” She turned away, wiping her eyes.

The kitchen door opened and Dennis and Sam entered. Dennis grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Sam.

“I’m good,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“I like this one, Alex. Sorry
Alexandria
.” Dennis turned to Sam as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “For future reference, she hates having her name shortened.”

“Noted,” Sam said looking at Alexandria, but her focus was on the stem of the wine glass she held in her hand.

“I think you should keep this one.”

“And do what with him, Dennis?” It was the wine talking. So this is what it felt like to have a real buzz.

Tension as tight as a coiled spring passed through the air. This time she met Sam’s gaze and held it, daring him to respond. It was if they were the only two in the room.

Something had happened since the incident at the hotel. She had a feeling he was reaching out to her, trying to comfort her in his own way, and she didn’t know how to accept it. Could she accept it?

“Have some fun.” Robyn laughed breaking the tension. She hugged Alexandria because she needed it. Then she moved to Sam. “I’m Robyn Anderson.”

“Sam O’Malley.” Robyn hugged him as well because she was a hugger. Sam appeared to be taken aback by Robyn’s gesture and patted her awkwardly on the back.

“His mother is Irish and his father is from Trinidad,” Dennis said as if he was doing a show and tell. He popped a diced carrot into his mouth he’d taken from the tossed salad on the counter. “Get this, babe,” Dennis pointed his thumb in Sam’s direction. “He used to be a detective in Boston.”

That was news to Alexandria. She hadn’t cared enough to ask what he really did for a living. But Dennis did. He reached for another piece of carrot again and Robyn swatted his hand away. It took a lot to impress Dennis. He hadn’t even like Alexandria when they’d first met. Robyn had told him to get over himself and get to know her before passing judgment. It had taken almost a year to do that and here he was salivating over Sam.

Alexandria took another mouthful of her wine enjoying the dry taste of the liquid. She inched her way over to the sink because she wanted to put as much distance between herself and Sam as the kitchen would allow—which wasn’t a lot.

Dennis stood beside Sam grinning up at him as if he was a kid who had just discovered a new toy. A six foot plus action figure with a tongue as lethal as a poison dart and lips she would love to—

“Have you ever been shot?” Dennis’ voice cut into her daydream. “I bet you get asked that a lot.”

“Here.” Robyn handed Dennis plates and silverware. “Hon, set the table and leave Sam alone.”

“Sure, babe.” Turning to Sam he asked, “How did you meet Alexandria, you being a detective and all? Heard you were at the hotel with her too. What’s going on?”

Sam looked at Alexandria as he was leaving the kitchen. She didn’t hear his response.

“That’s an interesting question. I would like to know the answer too,” Robyn said as she put the pot roast in a large white serving dish.

S
am had thought he would have ended up in a corner somewhere bored out of his mind. He was expecting a replica of guests like the committee members this afternoon. He didn’t think Alexandria knew any normal people. By normal he meant people that didn’t throw their money in your face, or put you down because you didn’t have any. Alexandria worked overtime to shove that down his throat.

The incident at the hotel had shaken her up this afternoon. Anyone in their right mind would be locked away, behind closed doors, afraid to leave the house. Not her. She was decked out in high fashion, showing him that it was going to take a lot more than that incident to knock her down. Even though he admired her spunk, he still didn’t think this dinner thing was a smart idea.

He was concerned but she had thrown his concern back in his face. Hell, he deserved it. He hadn’t really made it easy on her since she crashed into his life so why should she believe that he cared. The truth was, he did care.

Dennis and Robyn were very laid back. They were, for lack of a better word, ‘normal people’ and as the evening wore on, their relaxed vibe rubbed off on him. He was enjoying himself. Who would have thought? The tension between him and Alexandria seemed to disappear and she started enjoying herself too.

Dinner was pleasant with smooth jazz and blues playing in the background. Thanks to the light bantering between Dennis and Robyn, there was no need for conversation from him. The two were the most oddly matched couple he had ever come across, yet their relationship seemed to work.

Dennis was about 5’2, and that was being generous. He was skinny with a short afro, and loved to talk, jumping from one story to the next, half the time not completing an entire sentence. Sam didn’t mind Dennis’ rambling because Dennis found a captive audience in Robyn, a tall Vanessa Williams look-a-like. Sam couldn’t help but wonder how the nerd ended up with the prom queen.

Sam mused at the thought when Dennis began telling a joke he had heard at a recent medical convention he attended, but then proceeded to laugh before he got to the punch line.

“You see, this is why you can’t tell a joke,” Robyn said with a laugh, pointing a finger at Dennis. “You always ruin it before you get to the punch line.”