Deadly Charade (13 page)

“This is ridiculous. If you’re not going to give me the answers that I want, then there’s no point in us talking. I’m going to fix us something to eat. You rest while I do that. After I eat, I’ll drive you back to Sacramento. Back to your real friends. To Justine, who is the woman you’re supposed to be kissing, not me.”

His lips pressed grimly together. “That’s probably what you should do. I’m grateful you’ve taken care of me, but I’ve missed a very important meeting and I need to reschedule. Unfortunately I can’t stand without falling on my ass. And have you forgotten that someone is trying to kill you? And that someone might be a cop?”

“So you say. But you also say you’re a big bad drug dealer. Either way, I’m not safe. From the dirty cop. Or from you.”

With that, she slammed her way out of the room, willing the tears forming to stay at bay.

But they came anyway.

Later, when she’d gathered enough courage, she went in to check with Tony. She told herself that now that he was better, she would indeed drive him back to Sacramento. Only when she stepped into his room, she could tell immediately he’d relapsed. He was lying in bed, but he’d kicked off all his blankets, and before she even reached him she could tell he was shaking.

Once again, he was burning hot.

Helpless. Having to depend on her to take care of him.

And even though she shouldn’t have felt relieved by any of that, she was.

Because it meant they’d have more time together. Here. Alone. Without the world or their past to intrude and ruin things.

It wouldn’t last long, but for however long it lasted, Linda would enjoy it.

Chapter 21

T
ony wasn’t sure how much time passed while he fought off his infection. He spent his time sleeping or eating what Linda put in front of him. He vaguely remembered talking to her, even kissing her, but he wasn’t sure whether he’d imagined it.

Then he opened his eyes. Feeling infinitely better and clearheaded, he knew his infection was gone. He also knew he hadn’t imagined kissing Linda or making love to her at her house. He just wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about any of that now.

One thing he did know, however, was that he wanted to see her. Right now. So despite his stiff limbs and aching muscles, he slowly got out of bed, wrapped a sheet around his waist, and went in search of Linda.

He found her in the kitchen and paused in the doorway to watch her. Damn, she was beautiful, even dressed in running shorts and his old T-shirt, her hair down around her face. In all the time he’d known her, she’d always dressed in a pulled-together fashion at work—perfectly styled hair, perfectly applied makeup and never without lipstick. But at night, when it was just the two of them, she’d let down that perfect hairdo and would let her lipstick get kissed off. She’d end up smudged and smeared and would laugh, uninhibited. He’d always loved the fact that he got to see a side of her that no one else in the world did.

She’d been nursing him nonstop, but his mind kept replaying the last time they’d made love. There’d been something wonderfully familiar yet intoxicatingly new about holding her in his arms. As if they were both the same, yet different. The memory heated his blood, making his fingers curl with the need to hold her and draw her to him again.

As if she sensed where his thoughts had gone, she looked up. She blushed when she saw what he
wasn’t
wearing. And then she frowned.

Abandoning the pot she’d been fiddling with, she moved toward him and clucked like a mother hen. “What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting some more.”

She went to lay a hand on his forehead, but he stopped her, cradling her hand in his. “I’m feeling a hundred times better. You obviously nursed me back to health. Thank you.”

“Oh.” She stared at him for a few seconds, then blinked. Pulling her hand out of his, she nodded and took several steps back. “Oh, good. That’s good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’ve lost track of time. How long have we been here?”

“This is our third day here,” she said.

He cursed. “That long?”

“That long,” she said softly, then walked back to the stove. “We should probably wait to see if you have another relapse, but if you don’t...we can head back to Sacramento.” She looked at him again, an obvious question in her eyes.

Heading back to Sacramento was exactly what they should do, he thought. The problem was, he didn’t want to go back. Not when he had the chance to stay here with Linda. But they’d been here for three days. Justine was probably worried sick about him. Plus, he’d missed his appointment with the Rapture supplier and needed to work on getting that rescheduled. And of course he couldn’t forget about the man who’d been lurking outside Linda’s house. He’d considered the possibility of a dirty cop, sure, but that wasn’t the only possibility.

What a mess.

He didn’t know what was going on.

For a second he considered asking for help. Maybe even calling Dom, Mattie’s husband. The two of them had set up a way to get in touch in the event of an emergency, and he was thinking it was getting pretty darn close to that. However, calling Dom and bringing him into things meant risking the safety of someone his sister loved. Again. He didn’t want that.

Besides, Dom wasn’t here right now. Linda was. And she was a prosecutor, for God’s sake. Even if someone in her office was dirty,
she
wasn’t.

Maybe it was time to confide in her, after all. If he told her the truth, maybe he could convince her to stay at the cabin. Then he could continue his work in Sacramento and—

He shook his head. Right. And do what? Ask her to twiddle her thumbs until he had time to come visit here? Take the risk that someone would still find out about her and somehow get to her? No. Not an option.

So the charade would have to continue.

“I suppose we should head out,” he said slowly, wondering if he imagined the disappointment that seemed to briefly flicker in her eyes.

She nodded. “Of course. I’m sure Justine misses you.”

He frowned, wanting to shake her for that comment but knowing he had no right. He was the one who’d decided to pretend Justine was his girlfriend. Yet there’d been something he’d been wanting to tell her. Something that had driven him to go to her house before his arranged meeting with the Rapture supplier.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he said abruptly. “After we were together. I—I just want you to know that.”

Her instant relief was obvious. Licking her lips, she nodded. “Thank you for that, at least. But—but why tell me now?”

He shrugged. “You took care of me. You’ve always taken care of me. No matter what’s happened between us, I owe you that much.”

They gazed at one another until he was sure she could see every secret yearning he was harboring for her. With a mental curse, he turned away, mumbling that he was going to shower and dress.

He took his time in the shower, hoping it would wash away not only his lingering aches but the emotional weakness that seemed to have come with them. When he was done, he dressed then eyed the closed bedroom door and the limited floor space around the bed. Reluctant to face Linda again when he was still feeling so needy, he cautiously got down on all fours on the floor.

Before last week he’d been able to do one hundred push-ups every morning. One hundred in the afternoon. One hundred before bed. Coupled with sit-ups, weight lifting, endurance running and mixed martial arts, all done despite the pain his back and leg caused him, his workout regimen had changed his body. He should be able to do at least a few dozen even now, right?

He managed to do a dozen before his arms caved. He went prone, the muscles in his pecs and biceps quivering.

Damn. He hated being so weak. It reminded him of when Sabon had kidnapped Mattie. How Tony had failed to protect her. How Tony had failed to protect Linda—

“Tony? Are you all right?” Worry filled Linda’s voice.

Great. Just what he wanted Linda to see—him flattened by three minutes of working out. “I’m fine,” he called. “I’m doing push-ups.”

He heard her footsteps and cursed when he couldn’t get to his feet quickly enough. For a moment silence filled the air, then he heard a snort. He rolled over and peered at Linda, who stood tall above him.

“Looks more to me like you were making out with the carpet. Maybe you should give your body a chance to heal before you push yourself too hard. Here,” she said, coming to stand between his knees and offering him her hand. “I’ll help you up.”

He let her pull him up to standing but then, despite his best intentions, didn’t release her hand even when she tugged it back.

“I wanted to check on you. Your food’s waiting for you,” she said, her voice breathy all of a sudden.

He swiped the back of her hand with his thumb in a slow caress. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

She stared at him. Swallowed hard. Then took a deep measured breath. “No,” she said, yanking her hand back with enough force that he automatically let go. “I’m going to go for a long walk. When I get back, we can leave.”

He watched her walk away, acutely aware that his heart was racing harder and faster than it had been when he’d been exercising. And wondering how he was going to survive once she walked away from him for good.

* * *

Linda left the cabin even though what she really wanted was to stay. She wanted to repeat the kiss they’d shared. She wanted to make love to Tony again. She couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more. She left because she didn’t trust her own willpower.

She walked around the ten acres surrounding the cabin, bombarded by memories of when she’d been a little girl, and she and Kathy and their father had sometimes played hide-and-seek here. When he’d been around. He’d chase her and Kathy as they ran and giggled. Then he’d catch and tickle them.

Tony had used to tickle her, too. He’d go at her mercilessly until eventually the game turned into something altogether different, and then he’d go at her in the bedroom. They’d go at each other. He’d been the one man she’d felt comfortable letting go of all her inhibitions with. Maybe because he was wounded, like her. Maybe because he wasn’t threatened by her professional success. She missed that. She missed reveling in who she really was instead of constantly having to guard against her true nature.

But if she wanted to be a judge—and a young one at that given she was only thirty-three—well, judges were held to a higher standard than even most people. They couldn’t be wild or impetuous or selfish. Quite the opposite, in fact. Judges were impartial and objective and fair. That was what being the woman underneath the robe was all about, right? Being a judge meant she needed to be without prejudice. Blind, like Lady Justice.

Could she be blind to her prejudices against others? To her prejudices about herself?

At one time she had been wild and impetuous and selfish.

Was that what was happening now?

Why else would she so strongly cling to the idea that Tony was innocent? Why would she have made love to him? Kissed him? Brought him here in the first place? Was she blind to the realities of who he really was?

But even as she asked the question, her faith in Tony’s innocence didn’t waver. Because she
had
kissed him. Tasted who he was now, not just in the past. And he was still sweet. Still good. Still—

Her cell phone rang. When she saw the caller was Neil, she hesitated. He’d called her six times in the past few days, leaving her voice mails every time. The last one he’d left had sounded serious.

With a sigh, she answered.

“Hi, Neil.”

Ten minutes later Linda walked swiftly back to the cabin. Neil’s words still rang in her ear.

A reporter has linked you and Tony Cooper. He’s been asking questions. And implying that you had something to do with Tony being granted bail. He’s also questioning the fact that you disappeared soon after he was released. Damn, I’m sorry, Linda. This isn’t good. Not for your judicial campaign and not for...

He’d lapsed into silence, but Linda had known what he was about to say.

It’s not good for my career as a D.A., either. I might very well lose my job over this, Neil, isn’t that right?

Hell, I’m sorry, Linda. But don’t worry. I’m on your side and so is Norm. We’ll get our comments to the press. Assure them that you only took some time off because of what happened, not because you’re with Tony.

She’d swallowed hard. Hesitated. Then said,
But I am with him.

What?

I mean, I have been with him. Someone tried to hurt me again and he helped me. But he got hurt and...

Dear God, listen to yourself. Someone tried to hurt you and he just happened to be there to help you.
Again.
Don’t you think that’s a little convenient, Linda?

It wasn’t like that,
she’d protested.

No? So he wasn’t hanging around where he shouldn’t have been? At your house maybe?

He
had
been at her house. Even before she’d gone to his place at Tortuga Boulevard. But no, he’d been blocks away. He hadn’t even wanted to go into the house with her. She’d practically forced him to.

Hadn’t she?

She rubbed her forehead. Of course she hadn’t forced him.

She couldn’t force Tony to do anything.

Just like she hadn’t been able to force him to stop taking the painkillers when they were together.

Linda, he’s playing you. Playing on your feelings for him. Trying to convince you he’s a good guy so you’ll believe he’s innocent.

But I wasn’t sure of his guilt before...

And he obviously decided to capitalize on that.

It made sense. Everything Neil had said made sense. But it wasn’t what her instincts told her.

Listen to your instincts,
the fax had instructed her.

But she still didn’t know who had sent that fax.

It would have to have been someone who knew both her and Tony. Knew about their previous relationship. But who would—

It hit her then. Mattie.

It could have been Mattie who’d sent her the fax.

Mattie who was in WITSEC and couldn’t risk coming out of it because of her daughter, Jordan, but who’d heard of Tony’s arrest and wanted to get a message to Linda.

That made sense, too.

And thinking that Mattie had sent that fax, that she still believed in Tony from afar, was a much more palatable option than believing what Neil was saying.

Neil, I heard Justine saying Tony had set up an appointment with someone who sells something called Rapture. Do you know anything about it?

Damn it, Linda, that’s the last thing you should be worried about. Where are you? Tell me and I’ll—

Neil. Please. Just answer the question.

Rapture is a new street drug. A dangerous one. It’s similar to the bath-salt drugs, but it’s a hybrid, with an added component that makes the highs more intense, and the withdrawals even worse. It’s hard to come by, which is definitely a good thing. It’s been linked to mental deterioration in those who use it long enough.

Mental deterioration?

It drives people crazy. Makes them delusional. Makes them dangerous.”

“In other words there’d be a reason why someone might want to get to this supplier to stop him from selling these drugs? Someone who was working undercover, maybe?

Neil snorted.
And what? You think the person doing that is Tony Cooper?

I don’t know, Neil. But it’s a possibility. As you know, he acted as a confidential informant before. He had lots of reasons to bring Guapo down.