Secretive Stranger

Chapter 11

If anyone told Sophie a month before that she’d be eating, naked in bed, giggling like a kid at a carnival, she’d have suggested someone was suffering from delusions-and it wasn’t her.

But it was her. A giant tray in the center of the bed was chock-full of delicacies that Cate had prepared before her flight home. When they’d finally awakened, they discovered that they’d completely forgotten lunch-and almost dinner. They were trying to make up for it now. First, there was a wedge of brie, with hot marmalade poured over it, to be eaten with crackers. Another plate had fresh, icy shrimp keeping company with a wicked red sauce. Then there was celery, stuffed with crab and cream cheese. On the side table, sitting together, was one wine and one long-necked beer. And one very naked man on the other side of the bed-making a gooey mess out of the crackers and brie mixture, but was it good!

“Tell me again why we’re having this here, instead of at the table, like civilized people?” she demanded.

“We both agreed that we were never leaving this room.”

Until daybreak tomorrow, anyway. Heaven knew, a heap of reality was waiting for them back in D.C.-the unanswered questions of his brother’s murderer, the source of the break-ins, the repercussions of all the blackmail evidence in Jon’s apartment. Sophie still had the welts on her back to remind her that fear and danger were only hours away, still waiting. But they both figured that getting back to Foggy Bottom by Sunday morning was time enough to gear up for the coming trials.

They still had a few hours. And Sophie needed these last crazy hours with Cord like she’d never needed anything in her life before.

“You know there’ll be crumbs all over the sheets,” she groaned.

“Nah. We’ll just toss out this sheet and find another.” He motioned to the containers on the tray that neither had uncovered yet. “How can your sister make all this fabulous stuff and not weigh five million pounds?”

“She loves to cook, but she never seems to remember to eat. You liked her, didn’t you?”

“What’s not to like? She’d kill for you. Far as I could tell, that’s about the definition of a perfect sibling.”

Her eyes softened. “She is. And so is my other sister, Lily. I just wish your brother had been the least bit like my sisters, so you’d know what that kind of love is like.” She added quickly, “Cate said she’d left some kind of French stew for the real dinner, but after these hors d’oeuvres, to be honest, I can’t imagine eating another bite.”

She looked at him, her handsome lover. Cord was so sleep-deprived at this point that she couldn’t fathom how he could still be awake…much less how he’d…performed as exquisitely as he had. Twice. He loved her, she mused.

And no, he hadn’t said it, but she didn’t need the words. She’d known the instant he climbed in the shower with her in all his clothes. She’d known from how he’d made love, from how he looked at her, from how he’d opened his heart to her.

Still, she jumped when she heard the landline ring from the other room. She was relaxed, even happy, but even that innocuous sound of real life hit like a shot of adrenaline. It did the same for Cord. “I’m not answering it. There’s nothing that can’t wait for a few more hours. I guess we should solidify some plans, though.”

Her blissful mood faded, but of course she didn’t expect that euphoric high to last forever. And they did want to agree on a plan of attack for the days ahead. Although Cord had done several back-and-forths to feed and water Caviar, Sophie was still fretting about the cat being alone. So they agreed that they’d head in really early tomorrow morning-where she’d pack up some clothes, her work, pick up her mail, get rid of old milk and somehow maneuver Caviar into a cage.

The goal was for her to set up here for a while. Technically, she could do her translating work anywhere, so it was no hardship to hide out at Cord’s. “And something has to break,” he kept saying. “They’ve got more suspects and clues and information than Carter ever had liver pills. One of the leads has got to hit pay dirt.”

She not only agreed, but being an enthusiastic coward, she was happy to hide out in Cord’s cave. The deep bruises on her back were still swollen and achy. There wasn’t a reason on the planet to put herself in harm’s way. She wanted to help, but being victimized by someone who mistakenly thought she was a threat was crazy.

She heaped more of the soft, warm brie on a cracker. “Did you think about what we discussed before? That the day Jon was murdered, there had to be some kind of trigger for the killer, something unique that happened?”

“Yeah. And I think you’re absolutely right.” He took a pull on the beer, as comfortable naked as he was fully clothed. “Something had to have happened that day. Something that provoked the person into confronting Jon. God knows, any number of women could have been motivated to kill him. But if we could figure out the trigger on that one day…”

“The puzzle would come together,” she finished.

“Sophie, we need to talk about a couple of the women you know. Jan Howell and Penelope Martin.”

Cord’s head was down; he was still opening tops, finding more stuff Cate had made for them. Something looked a little green; he put the lid back on. Likely it was petrified vegetables. Sophie, though, had gone absolutely dead-still. She couldn’t say why alarm bells suddenly went off in her head. But something was…off. Cord’s tone had changed in an odd way, become too casual, too careful. And he’d brought up the two names out of seemingly nowhere.

“Sure,” she said. “What about them?”

Again, it seemed like an innocuous question. But they hadn’t been talking about innocuous things. Sophie felt another whistle of unease. “Well, you know how it is around Foggy Bottom. There are a lot of people living there alone, temporarily-like for political jobs, or for the schools, or for projects with the government or whatever. There just seemed a regular group who grabbed breakfast on Sunday morning at the same bistro. You start to recognize people in the same neighborhood, you know? They made the first moves, I think. Made friends. I wouldn’t say any of them are soul mates or likely to be lifelong friends, but they’ve been good neighbors. Good company.”

“Like Penny. Like Jan.”

“Yeah. And like Hillary.” For someone who’d been eating like a wanton pig, she suddenly couldn’t look at the food. And sitting there without clothes abruptly felt…wrong. She reached down, found his shirt on the floor, yanked it on. “They talked about your brother all the time, naturally. All the best gossip revolved around him. Everybody knew Jon. He wasn’t awake most Sunday mornings, but he was known to grab a coffee there, too. What makes you ask about them?”

Cord wasn’t looking at her. Of course he was still eating. “I just think that your holing up here for a while is a good idea.”

“Actually, I was thinking that we’ll be in Foggy Bottom early enough tomorrow that I could do my Sunday coffee klatch thing with them. They’ll think it’s weird if I don’t show up. In fact, they’ll worry. Besides which…Cord, they’ve been really good to me, like pitching in to help after that first break-in.”

“Maybe they pitched in. But maybe that gave them an ideal excuse to nose around.”

The comment startled her. “They’re nosy for sure. Gossipy. But I can’t imagine a reason to be suspicious of them.”

Cord fell silent. She watched his expression, watched his body language, and thought he might as well have been stabbing her in the heart.

Before making love, before becoming so close, he might have reasons to keep serious things from her. Cord was private by nature. So was she. But at this point, he surely had to know she’d trusted him with her heart. With her life, when it came down to it. Yet every instinct megaphoned that apparently, that trust wasn’t shared, because he was locking her out of something.

She tried a short joke, a laugh. “What? You think the police see Penelope or Jan as suspects in your brother’s murder?”

His response was immediate. “I think the cops see everyone as a potential suspect right now.”

She tried another short laugh, this one downright fake. “Next thing, you’ll be telling me they think I’m a suspect.”

There was just a flash of dark in his eyes. He immediately said, quietly, strongly, “There’s no way you’re a suspect, cookie.”

But she knew from that flash in his eyes, from his sudden stiffness, from the way he jerked around for his drink-that she was. She actually was a suspect. And Cord knew of the police’s suspicions.

She didn’t say anything else, didn’t ask anything else, couldn’t, not then. Cord’s exhaustion caught up with him, which was probably the reason he’d slipped with those comments to begin with. He crashed early. So did she.

Yet, on the morning drive back to D.C., Cord kept trying to make conversation. She answered him. She smiled.

Yet her heart sank lower with every mile. The glow from the time with Cord-his lovemaking, his caring, the shelter of feeling unquestionably loved-was dissipating like fog in the wind. She didn’t doubt he wanted to protect her. She didn’t doubt that he cared, or that their lovemaking had touched him.

But something was broken. And she was afraid it was her.

A watery sun peaked over the horizon as they reached Foggy Bottom. He dropped her off, rather than both of them wasting time finding a place to park. She said the obvious things, that she’d see him in a few hours after she got all her things together.

But the instant she entered her apartment and called for Caviar, she sank in a chair, feeling weak as dandelion fluff. The tomcat immediately prowled into the room, meowing furiously as he leaped on her lap, and butted his head under her chin.

“Okay, okay,” she murmured. “I know you’re mad I was gone. But Cord was here every day, giving you fresh food and water. You know I’d never abandon you, you doofus.”

But the cat seemed beside himself, kneading and purring and nuzzling. Sophie closed her eyes, burying her face in the cat’s soft fur, wishing the thick, sad lump in her throat would go away. She knew she had some unreasonable fears. She knew it was irrationally hard for her to believe that anyone could last in her life.

But Cord’s behavior-his suddenly changing from a lover to a man keeping secrets from her-hurt like a raw wound. When the killer was found, he’d be gone. What had held them together was the danger, the connection to Jon. But he’d always had one foot out the door.

Trusting someone was always a choice, always a risk.

Apparently it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take with her.

“Come on, Cav, we can’t sit here and let ourselves wallow like this.” She forced herself out of the chair. Whatever happened between her and Cord, her immediate plans were the same. She had all her records, and translating dictionaries and work to put together. Clothes and toiletries. For darn sure, the litter box needed cleaning out, and the milk in her fridge poured down the drain.

None of it should have taken more than a few minutes, if Caviar hadn’t tried to trip her every step of the way. If he wasn’t winding around her legs, he was dropping cat toys at her feet-or stealing anything that wasn’t tied down, such as her toothbrush, which he actually took out of her carry-on satchel and started batting around.

“Cav, quit it,” she finally said, impatiently. Naturally, when she was knee-deep in kitty litter-new and old-the cat chose that instant to drop a new toy in her path. “How am I ever going to get you in a cage to take to Cord’s, when I have no…Hey, what on earth do you have there?”

She caught the glimpse of something small and black, rectangular in shape, knew in a blink it was a flash drive. “How did you get that, you little demon? Give it!”

Naturally, the cat took off with it, delighted when Sophie gave chase. She couldn’t imagine how the cat had found the thing. All her computer supplies and records were safely in files. In life, she might be a wee bit on the untidy side, but she’d never been careless with her work.

Naturally, the cat chose to burrow under the bed, making it all the harder for Sophie to retrieve it. She had to lie flat and stretch her arm out full length-which the cat thought was even more play. Finally, though, her fingers closed on the cat’s treasure. Having lost the game, the cat ambled off with dignity, to wash himself in the sunlight, as if he’d never cared at all…leaving Sophie to stare at the booty.

She used flash drives. Everyone did. She used several kinds. Everyone probably did that, too. But she definitely didn’t recognize this brand. Confused, she carted the drive to her desk computer, booted up, popped it in.

Within seconds, she recognized that it wasn’t her flash drive. It was Jon’s.

The drive contained a half-dozen files-all women’s first names-but Sophie only recognized one. Jan. And when she saw it, she hesitated, then clicked on the file.

The first image made her wince.

She didn’t finish looking at all the images.

Couldn’t.

For a while she couldn’t seem to move, just sat there, trying to make sense of this new development. Jan had freely admitted sleeping with Jon, but until Cord’s comments yesterday, Sophie had no idea Jan was a suspect. The file, of course, supplied a potential reason. Then she considered the break-ins, the times Jan had been in her apartment, whether those events could be put together in some way she’d never thought of before. And still she sat there-but not for long.

Less than ten minutes later, she knocked next door. Cord answered immediately, although his sleeves were rolled up, as if he’d been working hot and hard in Jon’s flat. “You’re already ready to drive back? I figured getting everything together would take you longer.”

“It will,” she agreed. “And I need to make a short trek out for some stuff. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we didn’t leave for another couple hours.”

“No sweat at all. From mail to phone calls to computer records, I can hunker down here as long as you need. Just rap when you’re ready to go.” He leaned down as if to kiss her, saw her eyes, stopped.

Maybe there was a short, sharp glint of hurt in his eyes, but there was certainly no surprise. He said slowly, “On the drive back to my place, I think…we need to air out a whole bunch of things.”

“Yeah, we do,” she agreed, and turned around.

When she hiked outside, it was a leaf-shuffling morning, crisp and sunny. The bistro was only a short two blocks away. Right off, she could see a few hardy souls had chosen the cement tables outside, but the line inside for fresh blueberry bagels stretched almost to the door.

Most of the neighborhood group was already there. Hillary, dressed in hospital scrubs, had clearly taken the ownership of a table, judging from the heap of jackets and purses behind her. Sophie recognized at least a half-dozen faces in the line, including Jan and Penelope. They both spotted her as she was walking in.

“Sophie!” They shrieked hellos as if they hadn’t seen her in weeks, and immediately demanded to hear the latest news about Jon’s case. Jan wore a fabulous Australian shawl over a riding skirt and boots, looking artsy and elegant, as always. Penelope, for once, looked as if she were a tad hungover. At her worst, she was still gorgeous, but mascara smudges darkened her eyes and her hair was clipped up in an unbrushed knot.

Sophie wanted to slap herself. It was so like every other Sunday, the same whispers and laughter, the same talk about people, the same smells and tastes, the same scraping of chairs as they crowded around a table. No one looked different. No one behaved differently. If it weren’t for the flash drive in her pocket, Sophie would never have thought anything was wrong-much less that her whole world had turned upside down.

Hillary was the first one to rise. “I was on call all last night, can hardly hold my head up. I have to go home and get some Z’s. Sophie, you better have more news for us next time!”

“I’ll try,” Sophie said.

Penelope and two others reached for coats next. Jan reached for her jacket around the same time, but Sophie said, “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“You know you can.” Jan tossed some change on the table, stood up. “I’m headed uptown, rather than home.”

“That’s okay. I just need a minute.” Once they were both outside, away from all listening ears, Sophie palmed the flash drive and pressed it in Jan’s hand. “What’s this?”

But Jan’s face bleached of color, in spite of the brisk chill. Sophie fell silent, studying her, at first trying to imagine Jan shoving her in that closet. Then trying to imagine her capable of killing Jon. Although Sophie knew it was hardly evidence in a court of law, the blanched, sick look on Jan’s face told her the truth that mattered. Jan’s conscience was eating her up from the inside out.

“As goofy as it sounds,” Sophie said calmly, “the cat hid this. I have no idea for how long. Apparently, Caviar thought the flash drive was a toy. For the record, there were a few other files on the drive besides yours. I deleted the others. I don’t know who they were, and didn’t want to know.”

Jan was clutching the drive in a white-knuckled fist. Her other hand was pressed to her stomach. She said nothing else for a moment, then blurted out, “He was blackmailing me, Sophie.”

Sophie took a breath. “I figured that. Not because I saw or heard about anything else related to you. I didn’t. But when I saw what was on that file…” She didn’t want to remember what few images she’d seen. They weren’t pornographic. They were simply…lovers’ pictures. A woman at her most vulnerable.

“I’d have lost everything if he took it to the attorneys handling my trust fund. It wasn’t just about the money, Soph. It was about the family name. It was about ripping away everything I had-”

“You don’t have to say any more.”

But Jan only looked more hollow, more sick. “I didn’t love him, Sophie. But I cared. I never thought he’d…destroy me. And the more money he kept bleeding me for, the more frantic I got. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted whatever pictures or CDs he had. I was ashamed. Try to understand-”

Sophie made a dismissive motion. “Hey-I’m not your judge and jury, and not looking to be. I just think it’s time all this got stopped. All the threats, all the harm, all the destruction. Before anything worse happens.”

There was nothing else she wanted to say or hear-not from Jan. She spun around and aimed for home. She stepped in the street, heard the blare of horns, jumped back on the sidewalk. Yeah, her heart was pounding, but she kept thinking how ironic it was, that she’d been fine going into that meeting with Jan…but now that it was over, her hands were shaky and her stomach pitching acid.

Maybe that wasn’t so weird, though. Facing Jan was never going to be as tricky, as hard, as unsettling…as the man she had to face now.

When she sped up the stairs, she found Jon’s apartment door wide open. Cord showed up as if he’d just been waiting to hear her footsteps. “I thought you were just going out for a few minutes, like to a quick stop. When you were gone awhile, I started to worry.”

“I’m fine.” The classic lie, but this wasn’t the kind of thing she could tell him until they could be quiet somewhere. She felt his gaze on her face, searching, studying, but she hurried on. “You ready to go? It’ll just take a minute to put my things in the back of your car. I’m hoping you’ll carry the litter box. And I’ll do something brilliant to con Caviar into the traveling cage.”

“If you have trouble, we’ll do the Caviar thing together.”

Doing that mundane running around helped calm her nerves, at least for a few minutes. Caviar wasn’t that hard to trick into the cage, but started fiercely meowing the minute the door was latched-and he got really ticked when the car engine started. Apparently, he didn’t care for car rides.

Sophie was just as miserable.

She’d intended to wait until they got back to Cord’s-it wasn’t that long a drive-but an accident created a traffic jam. They weren’t stalled indefinitely, but Cord kept shooting her concerned looks. Every conversation pushed to engage her, to understand her silences. “I’ve got classes early tomorrow,” he told her. “And the police left messages, last night and this morning both. I called the detective. They want another meeting tomorrow. I’ll keep in touch with you by phone, so you know where I am and what’s happening, but I may be not around until well after six-”

She interrupted him. She just couldn’t wait any longer. “If you’re going to see the police, there’s something I have to tell you. Well. Actually, there’s something I want to give you.”

She fished in her patchwork bag, found the original flash drive and put it on the dash where he could see it.

“What’s this?” Finally, there was a break in the stalled traffic and Cord could pick up speed.

It seemed like a million years since she’d made love with him, since her sister had come, since she’d sat on Cord’s bed, bare naked, eating shrimp. She leaned her head back against the seat. “This morning, when I was gone for an hour or so…I went to Sunday breakfast with the group. Saw Jan, Hillary, Penelope. I stopped to talk to Jan afterward.”

“You what?”

“There are a half-dozen files on that flash drive. I didn’t actually look at all of them, but I’d bet the barn they’re pretty much all…lovers’ pictures. Women. Posing for their lover. That sort of thing. Anyway, you’re the only one who knows or has that original. I made a partial copy-a copy that only had Jan’s files on it-and gave it to her.”

“You what?”

Her voice got a little waver in it, but she explained in a steadfast and calm manner, about Caviar, about how she’d found the drive. “I just did a tiny, tiny change in the original I just gave you. Jan’s file is a little darkened. As if whoever took the pictures didn’t have enough lighting. All the pictures are still there. It just isn’t obvious, in her file, who the woman is.”

“Wait a minute. Hold it. Just hold it.” Cord almost caused a second accident when he jerked to the side of the road and skidded into a sharp brake. The tires spit gravel. Cars honked behind them. He slapped the car in gear. “I must be deaf, because somehow I thought you said that you went alone. Without telling me, even after all you’ve been through. To see two of the women we already believed were suspects-”

“Actually, I didn’t believe that. Or even hear the theory until last night.”

She watched, a little fascinated, when Cord rubbed a hand over his face. She’d never seen him angry before. For that matter, she’d never seen him confounded, either.

“So let me see if I’ve got this straight. You actually went to see the person who probably broke into your place-”

“Yes. I think Jan was definitely the one who broke into my place both times.”

“And who could have murdered Jon-”

“No. She didn’t do that.”

“And you know this how?”

She’d never seen a man try to talk through gritted teeth before. As calmly as she tried to answer him, her palms were slicker than waterslides. “Because I saw her face when I was talking to her. That was partly the reason I needed to do this. So I could see her reactions. Although I was always pretty sure she wasn’t Jon’s killer, Cord, because…I kept remembering how that burglar had pushed me in the closet. How she didn’t shoot me or stab me. She did what she had to do, so that I couldn’t identify her and she could get away, but she didn’t deliberately hurt me. And that’s just not the way a killer would behave.”

“Stop. I’m really struggling to grasp this. You tampered with evidence. You’re aware that’s against the law?”

She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. “Not exactly.”

“Sophie! The way you described what you did, it was exactly tampering!”

“Okay, okay. I was in a hurry, I didn’t have a whole lot of time to think. Maybe I should have thought that part through a little more. But I just changed it a tiny bit, Cord. And this was the thing-Jan didn’t really do anything that terrible, except want Jon as a lover, care about him. She comes from this old, landed family, where she could lose her inheritance if she caused any scandal to the family name. But this wasn’t about her, Cord. I wasn’t trying to protect her from what she chose to do. When I found that flash drive…I saw a chance. A chance to push out the truth. This whole mess could go on ruining people’s lives indefinitely. If the police can’t come up with any better suspects than me, I don’t have a lot of faith-”

“So that’s what this is about, isn’t it?” he said quietly. “The police thinking you’re a suspect.”

She turned away, watched the gray-hemmed clouds drift from the west, darkening the sky. Cord slowly pulled back onto the road, started driving again. She wasn’t going to cry. She just needed a moment to swallow the fat, thick lump in her throat. “No,” she said finally. “This wasn’t about the police thinking I was a suspect. It’s about something more serious.”

“Possibly only you would think something could be more serious. So let’s have it. What really bothered you?”

She’d lied before. Who hadn’t? When a woman was struggling to survive, she did whatever she had to do. But it was odd, how the darkening sky and traffic sounds all seemed to fade to a distance. She noticed a ragged cuticle on her thumb. Bit sharply at it. Even drew blood, although she didn’t feel a thing.

“Eventually-hopefully sooner than later,” she said carefully, “your brother’s murderer is going to be found. But after that…I know perfectly well you and I won’t see each other again.”

For an instant, she thought he was going to slam on the brakes again, but beyond a sudden sway of the wheels, he kept on driving. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“You don’t think there’s a chance that…real love, serious love, gut love could grow out of this mess?”

She kept her voice even and calm. “I think we came together in a time of stress and confusion. At a time when neither of us really had anyone else to turn to. And it’s been wonderful. I haven’t let down my guard with anyone in eons.”

“But. I hear the but in your voice.”

No, he didn’t, Sophie thought. She certainly wanted him to think she was calm enough to sound logical and honest. “But,” she echoed softly, “when it’s over, it’s over.”

“It’s not over.”

“I realize that. But giving that drive to Jan was a start. Something’ll happen from here. No one else will be breaking into my place-at least I hope not, because I’m certain she was the culprit. One by one, other suspects could be eliminated if they’re pushed a little, too. Layers are getting peeled off the onion. The smell’s out there.”

Cord was silent for a mile, maybe two. She saw the turn for his drive. Even if she wasn’t clear on the directions yet-generally, she could get lost in an elevator-she recognized the nest of white birches, the skinny creek gleaming pewter in the fading sunlight.

“Soph?”

She turned her head.

“I’m in love with you. Even if I want to wring your neck right now, I’m in love with you. We’re going to fix this mess. And then we’ll finish talking about this.”

She thought that maybe he believed that. God knew, she felt love when she was with him. But when he’d kept so much from her, especially the police’s suspicions, she felt as if something just…crushed…in her heart.

It was so hard for her to trust that she shouldn’t have been surprised Cord couldn’t find it in himself to trust her. She got it completely. It was life as Sophie always knew it. The only surprise was realizing that she’d still had a heart that could be broken.