He nodded.
“Did she recognize it?”
“Her eyes went wide for a minute. But she didn’t fall over in a faint. She’s a nice girl. Let me in without a word.”
Savannah could understand that. Jared Snow had a way of making women forget to breathe, let alone speak. He was doing it to her right then, with nothing more than the light in those blue eyes of his.
Jared was no less entranced. He was acutely aware of the fact that the last time he had seen Savannah, she had been wearing a nightgown in bed. Now she was wearing a calf-length skirt with a silk overblouse belted at the hip, and a long blazer over that. Her hair was pulled back into its knot, and her skin was lightly made up. She looked very together, very professional. Still, she looked sexy.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice a bit softer and more husky.
She took a shallow breath. “Okay.”
“Did you sleep?”
She wrinkled her nose. “A little. I had lots on my mind.”
“How’s Megan?”
“I saw her for a minute late this morning. I’m not sure if she was sleeping, but she didn’t respond when I spoke. She still looks awful. I haven’t had a chance to get back to the hospital. Things have been a little hairy here.”
Jared could imagine. “Are you pleased with the way the press conference went?”
TheEvening Bulletinwould have hit the stands by then and she assumed he’d seen it. Eying him warily, she asked, “How did they portray us?”
“I don’t know about the paper. I overheard talk downstairs.”
“Good or bad?”
“Nonjudgmental. It centered more on the kidnapping itself than on the efforts to solve it. I think you’re off the hook for a while.”
“Not for long. People get impatient when arrests aren’t forthcoming, and in this case, arrests are about as far from forthcoming as in any case I’ve ever had.”
There was a knock on the door. “Yes?” Savannah called.
Janie Woo stuck her head in. “I’m ready to leave. Is there anything you want before I go?” Her gaze wandered to Jared with a nonchalance Savannah found to be sweet.
“I’m all set, Janie. Have a good weekend.”
“You too,” Janie said. With a final glance at Jared, she closed the door.
Savannah looked at the floor, then at Jared. “You do know that she’d normally buzz me to say she’s leaving.”
The image of innocence, he shrugged. Then he asked, ‘Who’s the Cat?”
For the second time in less than an hour, the Cat took her oy surprise—until she realized that Jared had overheard the last part of her conversation with Beth Tocci. She sighed resignedly and crossed the room. “The Cat is Matty Stavanovich.” She deposited both the handful of pink slips and her briefcase on the desk. “He’s the kind of character who gives law enforcement officials ulcers. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he owned blocks of Maalox stock.”
“Does he?”
“No. Then again, he might, but under an alias we’ve never heard.”
“So he does use them?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Is he that man from the California prison?”
“No, but he inspires plenty of stories like that. Years ago, ne spent a brief period of time in a California prison. Unfortunately, he’s never been a protected witness. If he had been, we’d have a little more control over his comings and goings.”
