The Heart of Brody McQuade. Mallory Kane
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voice that she already knew what had happened.
“Hi, Tammy,” she said, forcing a brightness into her voice.
Of course Tammy would know about the break-in. Not even uber-Ranger Brody McQuade could stop the police from reporting the incident to Kenneth Sutton.
“I do apologize for calling so early, but I heard about your attack and I just had to see if you’re all right. What on earth happened?”
“I’m not sure I should be talking about it.”
“Nonsense. I’m your friend. You need someone to lean on right now.”
Friend? Hardly. She and Tammy were on a couple of charity committees together. Victoria’s grandmother would not have approved of the cavalier way people threw around the word friend these days. She’d have called them speaking acquaintances.
“That’s very nice of you to offer—”
“Sweetheart. It’s what friends are for.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Tammy’s mouth, she thought. The woman was up to something. Victoria almost laughed at that thought. When was Tammy Sutton not up to something? The woman could chew up and spit out anybody, then rinse her mouth with a Long Island Iced Tea.
“Tell me what happened. Could you identify the attacker? Did he say anything?”
“No. It all happened so fast. And he didn’t say a word. He just tried to choke me.”
“Oh, my God! And you didn’t see anything?”
“Not a thing.” Victoria wasn’t about to give Tammy the details of how she’d come awake just as the man grabbed her and flipped her onto her stomach. The horror of what could have happened still chilled her to the bone.
“Oh, Victoria. Are you sure you’re all right? He didn’t—”
“I’m fine. Just a little shaken. Now I really have to get ready for work.”
“Work? Victoria, what is the matter with you? You’re in no shape to work. My God, you could have been killed.”
Victoria’s mouth tasted like ash. She could happily have gone all day without hearing that. She licked her lips and sucked in a breath. “Working will help. In fact, it will help a lot, since I’ve got stacks of paperwork to finish. For once I’ll welcome the boredom. I’m fine, really.”
She was so not fine, but she wasn’t going to let anyone know that. She’d built her reputation as an attorney—face it, she’d built her life—on her ability to stay cool no matter what the situation.
She’d had trouble hanging on to her signature cool last night in the presence of Brody McQuade, and that dismayed her.
She didn’t like the sense of safety she’d felt from the moment he’d walked into the room. She didn’t like the sexual attraction that had sparked between them in an arc of electricity that she’d have sworn was visible.
Most of all, she didn’t like Brody’s air of supreme confidence. He knew he was in charge and his confidence was palpable to anyone he came in contact with.
She’d dealt with guys like him, guys who used bullying to get their way. For some inexplicable reason, she was drawn to the caveman type, but at least she’d learned to recognize them and avoid them.
“Hello? Victoria?”
“Oh, sorry, Tammy. I…I thought I heard something.”
“See? You’re obviously too upset to work. Why don’t you spend a few days at my lake house? It’s got all the comforts—even the freezer’s stocked.”
“Thank you, but I can’t leave in the middle of this investigation.”
Tammy Sutton had always been gracious at dinners and teas, but she’d never made overtures to Victoria. Until today. Victoria couldn’t help but wonder what Tammy’s motive was.
A faint beep sounded in Victoria’s ears. “Tammy, I have another call. It could be the police.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll let you go. We must get together for lunch soon.”
“That would be lovely. Bye.” I won’t hold my breath until I hear from you.
She picked up the incoming call. “Hello?”
“Victoria, are you all right?” It was Caroline Stallings.
“What’s going on, Caroline? How does everybody know about my attack?”
“It’s on the early-morning news. They didn’t say much about your condition, so I had to call. I’m so glad you’re not in the hospital.”
“How do they do it? The media, I mean. I didn’t see a reporter anywhere.”
“Tell me about it. I often get the idea that certain people would be happy to have every move they made played out on television. So they delight in talking to the press about anything.”
“Well, I’ve had about enough of this latest media circus. I’m seriously considering moving.”
“I know. This whole year has been so bizarre. Do you realize that three people we know have died in the past eight months?”
“Three? Oh—you mean starting with Kimberly.”
Caroline paused infinitesimally. “Yes, and all three were such tragedies.”
An eerie chill spread through Victoria. “Sometimes I wonder—”
“If there’s a connection? Me, too.”
Victoria heard her sigh. “Caroline, Kimberly’s death wasn’t your fault.”
“I was driving, and Kimberly didn’t have her seat belt on. There are two people who are certain it was my fault. Lieutenant Brody McQuade and me.”
“It was tragic, but it certainly wasn’t your fault. The only person at fault was the driver who ran away from the scene.”
“I’m the only one who can say what happened, and I have no idea,” Caroline said. “Until I can remember what happened…”
“Still nothing?”
“Zero. Zilch. Nada. I’d always heard about amnesia, but I guess I never really believed someone could actually have zero memory of something that happened to them. And yet here I am, living proof.”
Victoria heard the chimes of her intercom. “Now there’s someone at the door. Looks like I’m the most popular person in Cantara Hills this morning.” She’d tried to make her voice light, but knew she’d failed.
“Don’t let them get you down. Are you going to work?”
“Planning to. I’m sure not staying here all day.”
The chimes rang again. “I’d better go. It might be Lieutenant McQuade, wanting to harass me some more.” Her words were sarcastic, but deep inside, Victoria felt a twinge of anticipation.
What the heck was wrong with her? Did she actually want to see Brody again? Want to experience that sense of safety and power again? Last night he’d filled her apartment with his comforting presence.
“Victoria, if you need to talk or if you just want to get a drink or have lunch or something, let me know.”
Victoria thanked her and hung up. She looked down at herself. She was still in the ivory gown and black-and-red kimono. She started toward the intercom, reaching to turn on the security camera’s monitor.
But before she got to it a ping announced the arrival of the elevators. She recoiled.
Who…? Nobody but the manager had a master access card capable of sending the elevator to the penthouse. She clutched her kimono together at the neck and waited, paralyzed with fear, as the doors slid open.