Dark and Deadly

“Hold that thought,” he cautioned, checking outside the doors before letting her get off.

“You’re acting as if there were a raft of reporters waiting at every turn.”

“There could be. Todd was well loved in our fair city, and you were not only his jilted bride, but rumors are already floating about what happens to his estate.”

“His estate?” Torie was flabbergasted. What did that have to do with her?

“Hush, now. We don’t want anyone to overhear us discussing anything of the sort.” Martha was the voice of caution. She led the way to a silver Mercedes with faintly tinted windows. Paul piled their luggage in the trunk, and helped her into the backseat.

“You won’t be seen back here. Martha often picks me up, so hopefully no one will think you’re in here.”

She nodded. Right now, she had so much to think about that she didn’t want to talk, or be seen.

Torie closed her eyes and dropped her head onto the smooth leather of the headrest. How was she going to explain this to her boss? Or her Mama? Her brother would know immediately that it was all crazy. Pam obviously thought so already. Dev probably didn’t care as long as he could get as far away as possible from her. Lord only knew what GoodMama would think.

“Torie,” Paul said as they pulled into the garage at his office. “I want you to stay here with Martha for a few minutes until I’m sure there’s no one waiting upstairs. Will you do that for me?”

“Sure.” Torie managed the word without lifting her head. Her mind was fogging over with all the thoughts and ideas, the details and ramifications of Todd’s death. Who would she call when she wanted crazy advice? For solid business advice, she had always called her brother. Even though he was younger than she, he’d been a suit-and-tie businessman from the time he was twelve. But when she wanted off-the-wall, go-for-it kind of advice, she’d called Todd.

Paul stood there for a moment, looking at her. It was unnerving because she could swear he was reading her mind. He didn’t say anything, just turned and walked away. Martha, in the driver’s seat, never looked back. She kept her eyes on Paul as he walked through the door to the elevators, and she kept her gaze there the whole time he was gone.

Mercifully, Paul returned within five minutes. “We’re good. Why don’t you come on up, Torie? We’ll talk.”

“Talk?”

“I’ll fill you in on what the police have, or at least what they’ve shared.”

“Okay.”

“Mister Jameson,” Martha began.

“It’s okay, Martha. You can head out. I’ll send for the car for Torie.”

Martha didn’t say anything, but Torie was sure she disapproved, just by her body language.

Paul confirmed it once they got to his office. “Don’t mind Martha. She’s overprotective.”

“Why? Surely you’ve already shared with her how much you dislike me.”

“I don’t dislike you, Torie. And no, I don’t share my opinions with my assistant.”

“Ha. Yeah, like she doesn’t know your opinion. She probably knows it before you do,” Torie said as she walked into the spacious office. Framed photos of beach scenes, in haunting black and white, graced the walls. They were of empty stretches of sand, or twisted driftwood. No people. No color. They made her sad, and she said so.

“Really? I find them restful,” Paul replied. He seemed surprised. “Nothing but sand and waves and peace.”

“You crave peace?” There was a surprise. Paul had always struck her as the quintessential party animal.

He smiled. “Sometimes. The older I get, you know the line.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So, have a seat. Let’s get this over with.”

Nice. He couldn’t wait to get rid of her. Suddenly the thought of her empty, cheerless Extended Suites room made her want to cry. She longed for the comfort of her home, her things. Her dog. All of which were currently covered with soot, and under investigation, or in veterinary care.

“What do I need to do to convince them I didn’t do this?”

“Explain how either your blood or hair got to the church, and all over Todd.”

“What?” Shocked, Torie just stared at him. “My blood? My hair?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“But I haven’t even seen Todd in six months. I wasn’t supposed to see him until Friday night. How could anything of mine be anywhere near Todd? I don’t even have a cut.” Torie looked at her hands, thinking that surely she’d see something, hear something that made some sense, because nothing Paul was saying made any.

“I don’t know. Officially, I don’t know that much. They want you to submit to a voluntary DNA sampling. That tells me there’s either blood or hair, and I’d think that if they want DNA, it’s probably blood.”

“But, I haven’t been anywhere near Todd. I haven’t bled on anything of his. What?”

Paul was pointing at her arm. A long shallow scratch showed through the gap at her wrist. “How’d you get that?”

“I think I got it when I fell on my deck after the explosion. I have a bunch of cuts on my shoulders and back, too, from the flying glass.”