Slow Burn (12 page)

He felt the sting of her hand fading from his cheek. Her eyes were glazed now, holding just a bit of wariness of what he might do in response.

“I'll be downstairs, Spencer.”

She paled and shook her head, moistening her lips. “I want you to leave.”

“So you can wallow in self-pity? Sorry. Sly
has
paid me, after all.”

“And you always give people their money's worth!” she exclaimed angrily.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I could call the police.”

“Call them. If you get one of my old buddies, be sure to say hello for me.”

He managed to turn away then, and he finally left her bedroom. And all the while he was damning himself for ever having entered it in the first place.

W
hen Spencer got downstairs, he was still there. Sitting in the living room, thumbing through the newspaper.

She ignored him, walked into the kitchen and swallowed two glasses of water.

She had some Valium in the cupboard that she'd been given when Danny died. She toyed with the idea of taking a few. That wouldn't make David go away, nor could it really do anything to stop the emotions ripping into her heart. She decided to pass.

She strode into the living room. She'd dressed defensively in a sleeveless silk suit with a high mandarin collar, stockings and the highest heels she owned. She'd twisted her hair up, as well, determined not to let him look down at her. “Perhaps
you've
been paid to sit around all day,” she told David as coolly as she could manage, “but
I've
got to go to work.”

He stared at her long and hard, nothing in his bronzed features giving away any thoughts or feelings. Even so, she felt there was a certain contempt in his expression. She'd felt it before when she had been younger. And maybe she deserved it.

She didn't want to think about that. She was going to pretend it had never happened. And no matter what, she was never going to let him know that she still couldn't stop shaking, that she hated him, hated herself….

And that she couldn't stop wanting him all over again. In Danny's house. In Danny's bed.

“I'll drive you,” he said, his tone flat, without a spark of emotion. As if he had already forgotten what had happened. As if it hadn't meant a thing to him.

Well, maybe it hadn't. What did she really know about his life anymore? She and Reva had more or less cut their ties after high school. She'd seen David as infrequently as possible since her marriage to Danny. And David did have a life of his own. He'd been living it just fine without her. Sex still seemed as natural to him as breathing. He was too good at it not to have been enjoying it all these years.

A flush crept up to her face. They were living in the nineties. What the hell was the matter with her? She hadn't even thought about safety. She'd just wanted to feel him as fast as possible. Have him. A burning shame invaded her. No one should just fall into bed so irresponsibly.

But she had. And then she'd wanted to ignore it. Now she couldn't seem to get it out of her mind for an instant, but there was David, cool as ice, staring at her with that strange glitter—mockery? contempt?—in his eyes.

“I want to take my car. I don't suppose I can stop you from following me, but at least it will get you out of my house.”

“Don't you mean Danny's house?” he asked softly.

She had no answer for that. She spun quickly and started for the front door, heels clicking on the marble floor of the foyer. But before she could escape, the doorbell rang. She flinched at the sound, instantly tensing.

David did more, drawing his gun from his shoulder holster and stepping past her, looking through the peephole. He frowned, instantly sheathing the gun and opening the door. “Fried! What are you doing here?”

Spencer could see Danny's last partner standing awkwardly on the front porch in a wilting brown tweed jacket. He seemed surprised to find David there, then stared at Spencer a little sheepishly. “I just came to see Spencer for a minute.” He straightened, as if inwardly yelling at himself for wavering in his purpose so quickly. “Actually, Delgado, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to try to talk a little bit of sense into her.”

David arched a brow, pushed the door open farther and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked from Jerry Fried to Spencer. “Be my guest. This ought to be good.”

“Come in, Jerry,” Spencer said wearily.

He stepped inside and looked around, and Spencer wondered if he liked the old house, with its warmth and elegance, or if he simply resented the fact that Danny had lived here. The two men hadn't gotten on particularly well, but a lot of that might have been Danny's fault. David had been his partner before Jerry, and in Danny's eyes, no one could have lived up to David. Danny had thought that Jerry was nice enough, a good fellow. Just not as sharp as David.

“Want some coffee, Jerry?” Spencer asked politely.

“Are you kidding? It's hotter than a mother out there! Oh, sorry, Spencer.”

“Cold drink? Soda, ice tea?”

Jerry shook his head. Then he plunged in. “Spencer, I've just gotta tell you, you're hurting us all.”

She frowned. “I'm hurting you…all?”

“Come on, Spencer, you lived with a cop long enough. You were his wife. You know we're doing everything we can. We practically camped out on Delia's door. We followed up on every single thing Danny was working on when he died. We haven't given up. We're going to get the killer. You just have to give us half a chance.”

“But I'm not interfering with anything you're doing!” Spencer protested.

He shrugged sheepishly. “Spencer, come on, you were prowling around a graveyard at night, for chris-sake!”

“I had a hunch.”

“A hunch, huh?”

“Jerry, I shouldn't have been there, all right? But my hunch was on the money, and you do have Delia in jail.”

“Yeah, and we're glad about that, Spencer. It's just that you gotta believe we're going to go after Danny's killer with both barrels blazing. Tell her, Delgado, please!”

David, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the exchange between them, shrugged. “Spencer, it's true and you know it. Cops look out for their own. Hell, they all know they could be next!”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Jerry, I won't snoop around in any more cemeteries. I promise.”

He turned, ready to leave. Then he turned back to her. “Spencer, if you know something you're not sharing with us, you need to come clean. Do you hear what I'm saying?”

“I—I don't know anything,” she said stiffly.

David was staring at her again.

“See you, then, Spencer. You take care. And I swear, I'll keep you up-to-date on anything I learn,” Jerry said.

“Thanks,” Spencer said.

David gave her a hard look, then followed Jerry Fried to his unmarked car.

“What was that all about?” David asked.

Jerry slid into the driver's seat, shaking his head. “I don't know. It just seems like she must know something she's not saying. She's got to have a connection we don't. Something.” He stared at David. “Christ, we've got to get a break here somewhere! We've got nothing, David. No prints, no murder weapon. No witnesses. Nothing. And he dies—a cop, for God's sake—without giving us a clue, just whispering his wife's name.” He shook his head. “Hell, I'd pull out my own teeth to solve this thing. Just to get the lieutenant—
and
Ms. Spencer Montgomery Huntington—off my ass! Sorry, Delgado. I know he was your friend. And he was a good guy. A good partner. But damn it, I think even Danny knew stuff he wasn't sharing with me, and that sure pisses me the hell off now!”

David shrugged noncommittally. “Danny was a good cop.”

“Yeah,” Jerry muttered. “You working for her now?”

David shook his head.

“For old man Montgomery?”

“I'm working on this one for Danny, and for myself. See you around, Fried.”

“Yeah, see you around.”

As Fried started to drive away, Spencer was already getting into her little Mazda. David strode to his Mustang, settling in just as she whirred the Mazda to life.

“Bitch!” he said softly, burning rubber to get out of her driveway quickly enough to fall in line right behind her. She wasn't going to shake him. Not unless he decided to let her.

He followed right on her bumper, almost as close as if the two cars were attached, watching for any sneaky moves. But it seemed that she really was going to work.

He picked up his car phone and punched in Sly's private office number. Sly picked up right away.

“Spencer's pulling into the parking lot now. I'll be at my office for a while.”

“Fine. Thanks,” Sly said.

“Call me when she's going to be on her own.”

“I'll do that,” Sly agreed. “You think you're going to be able to keep a tail on her all the time?”

David opened his mouth to reply. Spencer sure as hell wasn't going to be happy having him around. It didn't matter. He would be out on the street. She couldn't stop him.

“Yeah, Sly. I'll keep on her. She's yours during the day, and I'll handle her coming and going. Be careful. I think that things may be starting to break now. If you can watch her during the day, I can use the time to see a few old friends—and enemies.”

“I'll keep an eye on her,” Sly promised, then hung up.

 

Sly was as good as his word, though the weekend promised to be rough. But Sly had told David that he and a dozen stonemasons would be with her most of the time—neither Saturday nor Sunday had been planned as a day of rest.

David followed her to church and home again on Sunday, keeping a fair distance from her. She wasn't aware that she was still being followed, or if she was, she gave no indication of it.

Late Sunday afternoon, she sat out by her pool. Then she swam, and he felt both the hunger and the pain she had reawakened in him stirring again as he watched her. He swore at himself, mocked himself, but he kept watching her. As the sky darkened, she sat on the edge of a lounge chair and pressed her temples between her fingers. She was crying again, he thought. Well, Danny was dead, and maybe he was a poor substitute. Or maybe she wasn't ready to forgive herself for wanting a substitute. He didn't know which. But he couldn't say he didn't care. Because he did.

The weekdays went a little better, but his nerves were definitely on edge by the time Friday arrived. Nothing had happened. Juan, another of David's employees, had kept him up on Ricky Garcia's movements. Ricky had kept a very low profile recently, probably because the police were breathing so closely down his neck.

David had used his police connections to make sure that the alarm company went out to Spencer's house, supposedly on a routine check, to do a thorough evaluation of the system. Each night he checked the doors himself, then called the company and made sure that Spencer's system was being monitored.

He'd been sure that something would happen quickly. As a result, he'd been so tense that the week had gone excruciatingly slowly.

If he'd only kept his damned distance from Spencer…

But he hadn't.

On Friday he followed her in to work at a discreet distance. He still didn't know whether she was aware that he was following her constantly or not. It didn't matter.

David stayed on Main while she turned into the parking lot for Montgomery Enterprises. His office wasn't far down the street. He pulled in. Reva was at the front desk. She gave him a curious look when he walked in.

“How are things going?”

She shrugged. “Marty is working on that insurance fraud thing. He called in to say we're right on track with it. Juan has been down in Little Havana, seeing what he can find out about everything Ricky Garcia is into. Someone called with a divorce case.”

“You turned it down.”

“Yes, big brother, I turned it down. God forbid, we don't want to do anything that actually makes us a whole bunch of money here!”

He shrugged and walked into his office, pulling out his files on Danny's case. Reva followed him.

“Coffee?”

“I've had some.”

“Lunch? I can microwave some of Tia Anna's black beans and rice.”

He shook his head again. “I'm not hungry.”

“Spencer Montgomery has quite an effect on your appetite, big brother. Has anything happened since you took her to see that guy in jail?”

He folded his fingers together, looked at his sister and he shook his head. “I did pay him a second visit.”

“And?”

He shook his head unhappily. “I just can't believe Delia killed Danny. I do believe he's completely out of his head, and I'm certain he's murdered some of his followers. But I don't think he killed Danny.”

“You're putting all your time into this one case.”

“Hey! I'm the boss.”

“You refused to accept a salary from Sly Montgomery, didn't you?” Reva asked.

David stared at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I refused to accept his money. Reva…”

“I know, David. He put us both through school. I didn't think you'd accept anything from him.”

“I've been on this thing forever anyway.”

Reva stood, ready to leave his office. “David?”

“Yeah?”

“Just watch out around Spencer, huh? She's caused enough heartache in your life already.”