“Did you take your supplements?”
“Of course. Did you take yours?”
“I will, right after we hang up.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Good night, Bobby.”
“Good night to you. Hey, Luke?”
It was Bobby W’s way, that last question of the day. “Yeah?”
“I still think you’re attracted to Rikki-Rikki.”
“You’re crazy,” he said, then realized he was holding only a dial tone to his ear. The old bastard had hung up on him. But he’d tagged him first. It didn’t make any difference, though. He wasn’t about to act on his feelings. He didn’t need to single out this woman. There were plenty to go around. Including the one in the next office.
He picked up the phone and pushed the button labeledHomer.Ellen didn’t answer. Not like her to leave so early. Mild disappointment flitted through him. He was going to ask her to dinner, not a date, just one of those extended business days they shared occasionally. She’d made it clear from the start that theirs was a professional relationship only, and that made it possible for them to be friends without games or expectations.
Might as well leave for the day. He could pick up something on the way home, maybe drop by Bobby W’s. No, the old man would be into the bourbon by now, and that was getting too sad to witness.
He had just turned off his computer when Ellen burst into his office.
“I was just going to call you,” he said. Then he saw her flushed face and wide eyes.
“I’m glad you’re still here.” She shoved a tablet of scribbled notes into his hands. “I just got this from the people doing the background check. Rikki Fitzpatrick had a cousin.”
“Had?”
“She died.” Ellen moved next to him, jabbing her finger at the words she’d jotted down. “Just two weeks ago, Lucas.”
The words on the page taunted him. It couldn’t be. He felt Ellen beside him, was vaguely aware of her perfume, of the suddenly too-warm room closing around him.
“Lucas, what is it?”
“Oh, God,” he said. “Not Lisa Tilton.”
TWELVE
Gabriella
She had been wrong to speak rudely to Jesse on the phone. His behavior was above reproach, shy almost, as he ordered their drinks. She’d agreed to a glass of chardonnay, after all, not because she wanted it. Wine was loaded with sugar. Only one table remained unoccupied at the Hilton’s lounge, heavy traffic for a Thursday. Must be a convention somewhere nearby.
They sat, tucked against the wall adjacent to the bar, probably the most private place in this darkened room that was anything but private.
“Why didn’t Rochelle join us?” She felt it was the proper thing to say.
“She never accompanies me on business.” That made her feel better. But then, he smiled and added, “In this case, I have to say the business is also a pleasure. You’re looking wonderful, but then, you know that.”
“It’s always nice to hear.” She tasted the wine. A compliment didn’t hurt. It’s not as if he were leering. And she hadn’t put on this fuchsia ruffle-front dress to be ignored. “One never knows what to wear out here. The weather can change so suddenly.”
“Rochelle says Bobby likes women to look like women. I’m sure he’ll approve of that dress.”
She started to say she wasn’t wearing this tomorrow, but her cell phone surprised her with its embarrassingWilliam Tell Overturering. She’d have to get Christopher to programin a new sound. “Excuse me,” she said, pulling it out, hoping Christopher was okay. “Very few people have this number, so it must be important.”
It wasn’t Christopher’s voice that greeted her, however.
“Gabriella Paquette?”
