CHAPTER 6
Libby awoke to find her head resting on Tony’s shoulder, her hand lying intimately on his thigh. She jerked up and away from him as if scorched by the heat of a fire.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens.” Tony smiled at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, running fingers through her hair self-consciously, trying not to think of how familiarly she’d been sleeping against him. “I guess I haven’t been very good company.”
“That’s all right. You were obviously exhausted.”
She focused her attention out the window. “Where are we?” she asked curiously.
“Just coming into Sedalia,” Tony said, cracking his window a bit to allow some of the warm spring air to make its way into the car.
“Sedalia, Missouri. Isn’t this where the state fair is held every year?” Libby asked curiously, looking out the car window with interest.
“Yes, the fairgrounds are just ahead. You ever been to the fair?”
“Once.” Libby smiled softly at the memory. “It was a long time ago, but I can still remember the sounds, the smells. The laughter and the music from the calliope, the smell of grilling hot dogs and roasted peanuts. Ah, I love fairs.” She laughed suddenly.
“What?” He smiled at her.
“I just remembered. Vinnie bought me a chameleon. Somehow they had managed to tie little chains around them with a safety pin so the poor little lizards could be worn on a blouse.” Libby shook her head softly, memories flooding her. “I wore that chameleon every day for a week, each day with a different-colored blouse. I was utterly fascinated the way the chameleon changed colors.” She looked at the deserted fairgrounds as they drove by. “It was a wonderful time,” she added with another soft laugh. “Vinnie took me on every ride. He even managed to win me a funny-looking stuffed crocodile.” She shook her head, remembering how much money her father had gone through in his efforts to win her the mangy-looking stuffed animal.
“It must have been difficult, raising a daughter single-handedly,” he observed.
“Vinnie was a wonderful father. If I was a burden to him, he never showed it, and I never felt it. He’s a very special man.”
“But it must have been difficult for you at times, not having a mother.”
Libby thought about it for a moment before she answered. “No, actually it wasn’t. I was so young when she died. I don’t remember her at all. I guess it’s hard to miss something you never had.”
“Sometimes mothers don’t die…they just fade into the shadows.”
Libby looked at him curiously, biting back the desire to ask him to elaborate on his strange statement. There was something about his tone of voice, the set of his shoulders that forbade her to question him. Apparently his light, flirtatious ways and his easy charm hid scars—deep ones that marked his soul. She repressed her need to reach out to him, to touch his arm, knowing he would hate her for a show of sympathy.
“You hungry?” he asked suddenly.
Libby shook her head. “No, but I could stretch my legs.”
“My breakfast this morning was far too early to really count.” He looked at his wristwatch and grinned. “And if we hurry, breakfast will be served for another ten minutes—I see the golden arches ahead. My stomach says it’s time for a couple of egg biscuits and some hash browns.” He pulled into the parking lot of the fast-food chain. “What about you?” he asked as they climbed out of the car.
“Just a cup of coffee,” she said.
“I thought you said something about being a junk-food junkie.”
She laughed. “I am, but I never indulge in my vices until after twelve noon.”
One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “Vices? Hmm, as soon as I fill my stomach, I’d like to discuss the other vices you have besides eating junk food.”
With a laugh, Libby gave him a small shove toward the order counter as she headed for the ladies’ room.
Once in the rest room, she looked at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, dismayed at the tousled condition of her hair, the slight mascara smudges beneath her eyes. She washed her face with a wet paper towel, then finger-combed her hair as best she could. Better, she thought as she looked once again at her reflection. She didn’t look half bad for a woman who was in the middle of a mystery that might possibly involve a breach of national security. “Oh, Vinnie, wait until you hear about this,” she said softly, laughing as she tried to imagine her father’s reaction.
By the time she left the rest room, Tony was nowhere to be seen. He must have gotten their order and gone back to the car. She left the brick building, raising her face to the warmth of the sun as she walked toward where Tony had parked. She frowned, startled as a car roared around the side of the building and squealed to a halt in front of her.
The passenger door burst open and before Libby had a chance to respond in any way, a pale, white-haired man jumped out and grabbed her arm. He roughly dragged her toward the open car.
The feel of his deathly cold hands on her arm broke the stunned inertia that had momentarily gripped her. She flailed out at the man, kicking and curving her fingers so her nails could be used as weapons. She didn’t know what he wanted, or why he’d grabbed her, but she did know that if he got her into that car, she would be in the worst possible danger. She grunted in grim satisfaction as she raked her nails down the side of his face.
“You bitch,” he grunted, his fetid breath smelling like death, his hands tightening their grip on her arm.
“Where is it?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes suddenly lighting on the shimmering gold necklace almost hidden beneath her sweatshirt.
He growled in satisfaction and released his grip on her arm, instead grabbing the necklace in his large hand. He yanked viciously, but the gold was thick and the clasp sturdy. The necklace clung to her neck possessively.
Her struggles shifted from trying to get away from the man, to grasping at the necklace, to keep herself from being strangled. As he grappled, pulling and tugging at the necklace, her air supply was slowly being cut off. I’ll strangle to death before it comes off, she thought in panic, her vision beginning to blur. She choked, fighting back nausea as his unrelenting strength pulled the necklace tighter…tighter. She tried to kick out at him, but she was tiring, and his grip was maddeningly strong. She felt her eyes bulging, the cords of her neck taut as she pulled and gasped for blessed air. Tears squeezed from her eyes as her vision stopped blurring, but darkened ominously. Just as the darkness of unconsciousness threatened to claim her, she had an irrational burst of anger at Tony. He was apparently going to sit in his car and eat his damned breakfast, oblivious to the fact that she was dying.
* * *
Tony unwrapped his egg biscuit, his stomach rumbling with hunger as the scent of bacon and egg filled the interior of the car. As he took his first bite, a car squealed around the corner of the building, pulling up between his car and the front door of the place. Ah, another hungry morning traveler, he thought, finishing his biscuit in three big bites. He looked back toward the building, wondering what had happened to Libby. He was anxious to get back on the road, but he knew all about women and their secret rest room rituals. He’d never known a woman who could make a bathroom stop in under ten minutes.
He tilted his head to one side, strange sounds filtering into his open window. A struggle… Yes, that’s what it sounded like. He heard grunts, skin beating against skin…harsh noises that had no place in the beauty of the spring morning. His gaze shot back to the car parked between him and the building.
His nose twitched and the egg biscuit he’d just consumed turned to lead in the pit of his stomach. He jumped out of his car, simultaneously pulling his gun from the top of his boot. Rage ripped through him as he rounded the side of the car and saw Libby in a death grip. Her face was white and her eyes were opened wide, as if she saw her own death.
The man holding her looked up, startled at the sight of Tony with his gun drawn. “You son of a bitch,” Tony snarled, his anger a force that vibrated around him. In an instant the man released Libby and jumped back into the car, which sped away with a shrill squeal of tires.
Tony didn’t waste time chasing after the car or firing a shot after it. With his heart thudding painfully in his chest, he raced to where Libby lay pale and unmoving on the concrete of the parking lot. He shoved the gun back into the top of his boot as he crouched down next to her, his throat thick with emotion.
“Libby, are you all right?” He leaned down over her, moaning softly as he saw the red, angry welts around her slender, pale neck. He brushed a strand of her silky hair off her face, relief flooding through him as her eyelids fluttered rapidly, then opened.
“Remind me to buy you some nose spray,” she uttered, her voice hoarse as he helped her struggle to a sitting position on the pavement.
“Nose spray?” He looked at her worriedly. Had she hit her head on the pavement and now was suffering some sort of disorientation?
Libby nodded. “That famous nose of yours should have told you something like this was going to happen.” She smiled weakly, then winced and rubbed her neck. “This peccadillo you have for eating breakfast is definitely dangerous to my well-being.”
Tony smiled down at her in relief, touching the tip of her nose with the end of his finger. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, gently helping her up and leading her to the car.
He eased her into the passenger seat of the car, his rage flaring again as he saw her unconsciously touch her neck and wince. His eyes narrowed as he thought of the man who had hurt her. Tony would kill him if given the chance.
“Did you get a good look at the men in the car?” Tony asked, maneuvering the lid off the cup of coffee and handing it to her.
Libby took the coffee gratefully, pausing a moment to take a sip of the hot brew, finding the heat soothing on her aching throat. “Not the driver, but I got a real good look at the man who grabbed me. He was white.”
“You mean Caucasian,” he corrected automatically, accustomed to years of taking down descriptions of suspects.
“No, I mean he was white…really white,” Libby explained. “His skin was white, his hair was white and he had the eyes of a little mouse, all beady and pinkish.” She shivered suddenly, realizing how close she had come to being strangled to death. Her skin still retained the evil cold clamminess of the man’s hands and she shivered once again, never feeling more mortal than at this very moment.
“You mean he was an albino?” Tony asked, once again fighting a murderous rage as he felt the force of her shiver across the expanse of the front seat of the car.
“Yes…that’s what he was…an albino….” Libby reached up and touched the gold of the necklace around her neck. How could anything so beautiful feel so evil… so frigid?
Tony reached over and took her hand. “Are you all right?”
She took a deep, steadying breath and smiled at him, finding his hand grasping hers comforting in a very nice way. “I’m fine.” She smiled crookedly at him. “I’m a tough old bird.”
As he wheeled the car back onto the highway, he released her hand, making her feel oddly bereft. She stared out the window, focused on the scenery, trying to regain a modicum of peace. Yes, she was a tough old bird, but she was being pushed to her limit. She reached up and touched the necklace once again. This was no game, and there were no civil rules of play.
“Damn,” Tony muttered, checking his rearview mirror. “It looks like we’ve got company.”
Libby whirled around, staring at the black sports car that quickly approached them. It was the same car that the albino had tried to pull her into. She checked her seat belt, making sure it was secure, her mouth suddenly dry as her stomach twisted in knots.
“Hang on…here they come,” he said tersely, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.
The sports car slid alongside of Tony’s car, metal crunching against metal as it swerved into the side of their car.
Libby stifled a scream. “What are they trying to do?” she gasped in horror.
“Force us off the road.” He cursed as with another screech, the sports car slid into them again. Libby shoved the back of her hand into her mouth, trying to hold back another scream as Tony jerked the wheel sideways to escape.
“Hold on. I’m going to try to lose them.” He punctuated his sentence by flooring the gas pedal, throwing Libby back against the seat with a burst of automotive power. Libby bit her bottom lip and braced herself with a hand against the dashboard, carefully juggling the cup of hot coffee in her other hand.
“We’re going to have to get off this stretch of highway,” Tony muttered, exploding with an expletive as a gunshot shattered their back windshield.
“Oh, God, they’re shooting at us,” Libby squeaked in terror.
Tony placed his hand on the top of her head and shoved her down on the seat next to him. “Keep your head down,” he commanded. “I’ve got to get us off this highway. Right now we’re sitting ducks for them.”
Libby didn’t need to be told twice to keep her head down. Her body strained against the confines of the seat belt, but she was barely aware of the cutting sensation. She crouched with her head against Tony’s thigh, hardly conscious of the hot coffee that had splashed on her jeans. “I spilled my coffee,” she remarked inanely, as the rest of the dark liquid quickly spread across the beige carpeting on the floor of the car.
“If we get out of this mess, you can pay for the car wash,” Tony replied tersely as he suddenly wrenched the steering wheel to the right, causing the tires to squeal as he turned off the highway and onto a bumpy dirt road.
Libby’s stomach did a series of erratic flip-flops, making her grateful she hadn’t eaten anything. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as she heard the resounding echo of more gunfire and Tony rounded another corner on what felt like two wheels. “Why do I suddenly get the feeling that I’m living out a scene from a ‘Miami Vice’ rerun?” she gasped, looking up at him from her crouched position on the seat.
“If you happen to see Don Johnson around, tell him we could use his help.” Tony’s jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed to mere slits of concentration.
Libby closed her eyes once again as the car continued to travel bumpy back roads at bone-jarring high speed. She could hear the sound of tree branches swishing by and scratching the sides of the car as they flew over roads that were no more than cattle tracks.
As they zoomed over a particularly hard bump, Libby grasped Tony’s thigh tightly. We’re going to die, she thought, surprised that the thought brought with it no hysterical fear, only an intense anger because they were going to die and she wasn’t sure why.
They would either have a wreck and die, or the men chasing them would catch them and kill them. She could envision Vinnie at her grave site, his grief deep and despairing. It wasn’t fair…none of this was fair. She hadn’t asked for any excitement in her life. She hadn’t wanted an adventure.
“We’ve lost them.” Tony’s voice intruded into her morbid thoughts and she suddenly realized the car had slowed down.
“Are you sure?” she asked breathlessly, not moving from her position.
“I’m sure,” he replied. “But I’m not sure what’s worse, the claws on your cat or the claws on you.”
His words made Libby realize that her fingers still dug into his thigh. “I’m sorry.” She released her death grip on his thigh and sat up. “Like Twilight, I’ve also had all my shots.”
He smiled at her, his eyes still radiating with dangerous glints. “Are you all right?” he asked tersely.
Libby shrugged and grinned jauntily. “Of course I’m fine. My pawnshop and apartment were vandalized. Some creep crept into my bedroom and put his filthy hand all over my mouth, a guy tried to strangle me in a McDonald’s parking lot. I’ve got hot coffee burning a blister in my leg and I’ve just finished participating in a high-speed chase through the backwoods of the Ozarks. Heck, why shouldn’t I be fine?” She realized she was on the verge of hysteria, but didn’t know how to control it.
He pulled the car off into the thick growth at the side of the road, then shut off the engine. For a moment they both sat still, the interior of the car darkened by the thick brush that surrounded it. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, his dark eyes gazing at her intently.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied tremulously, taking in a deep breath of air.
“Let me see that neck of yours.” He turned in his seat and eyed her critically. Beneath the heavy gold necklace, the angry redness of her neck was already turning a vivid blue. “Damn them,” he breathed, his fingers lightly caressing the smooth silkiness of the skin just above the bruised area. “Does it hurt much?” he asked, his dark gaze shining with anger, and something else…something that caused Libby’s breath to come unevenly.
She shook her head, unsure whether her sudden breathlessness was a delayed reaction to her fear, or the result of the soft, gentle touch of his hand against the sensitive area of her throat.
“I promise you, nobody will get the chance to hurt you again. I’ll kill them first,” he promised and as he pulled her into the circle of his arms, she believed him.
But she didn’t want to think about death. The scent of death had surrounded her for too long. The memory of the albino’s cold hands on her arms had been like the fingers of death reaching out for her.
She wanted life. She wanted the feel of Tony’s warm, vital body to chase away the last lingering vestiges of the graveyard. She needed to lose herself in his very aliveness.
As he swept a strand of her hair away from her face, she looked up at him. Gone was the anger in his eyes, replaced instead with a flame of fire that turned them into glowing chunks of charcoal. Without warning his lips took hers; hot and wet, they demanded a response. It was a demand she couldn’t help but give in to.
She responded feverishly, clinging to him as if he were the only stable point in an all-too-dangerous world. His lips were hungry, aggressive, but no more than her own as she pressed against him, wanting to meld herself into the warmth and safety of his arms.
His lips devoured hers, his tongue invading and probing, and she welcomed him body and soul, allowing the flare of passion to take the place of her fear of death. She wanted the oblivion of his desire, the comfort of his warm, living body covering hers.
His hands slowly moved down the sides of her sweatshirt to the bottom, then just as slowly caressed upward inside the shirt, against the heat of her skin. She moaned deep in her throat as his hands cupped the mounds of her bra-covered breasts. His hands were fire and the icy fear of death left her as she reveled in being alive.
She ran her hands down his back, feeling the sinewy muscles as she caressed downward, finally stopping to linger at his belt.
Her sweatshirt became an encumbrance to be rid of, and as he tugged at it, Libby helped him by raising her hands over her head and allowing the shirt to be pulled off and discarded into the back seat of the car.
She could smell him, dark and hungry, as his eyes lingered on her round full breasts, the nipples surging tightly against the lacy beige bra. “Libby…” His voice sounded tight as his thumbs brushed the top of the bra. He leaned down and placed his mouth against one peak. She could feel the heat of his lips through the thin material and suddenly she wanted the bra gone, swept away, so she could feel those lips against her flesh.
She reached around behind and unclasped the bra, shrugging her shoulders and allowing it to fall to her lap. The flame in his eyes burned brighter, threatening to consume her. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his words ragged with his raspy breathing. He reached out and touched one of her nipples, catching and teasing it between thumb and index finger.
Libby felt her response beginning in the center of her stomach, a roiling heat and ache that slowly vibrated outward. She closed her eyes, emitting another small moan as his lips followed the path trailed by his fingers. She groaned as a nearly forgotten sensation of sexual splendor swept over her, intensifying the ache of need that throbbed in her lower stomach.
A thud on the roof of the car caused them both to burst apart.
A squirrel raced down the front windshield and disappeared into a nearby tree.
Tony expelled a deep breath as Libby released a shuddery sigh. He turned to reach for her again, but for Libby, the spell was broken. “No, please…” she said, confused and embarrassed at the same time. “This…this is all crazy.” She crossed her arms in front of her, shielding the sight of her naked breasts from his onyx eyes.
For a long moment they merely looked at each other. Libby could see her own confusion reflected in his eyes. With a muttered oath, he flung himself from the car and disappeared into the brush along the side of the road.
Libby watched him until he disappeared, then quickly scrambled for her sweatshirt in the back seat of the car. My God, where had her brain been? How had she allowed things to get so far out of control? She hardly knew the man, yet she’d been ready to… She shuddered as she thought of what they almost had done.
She pulled the shirt on over her head, then wrapped her arms around herself, the chill back in her veins. She’d encouraged what had just happened. She’d been afraid, off center, and had wanted his arms to wrap her up securely. But she hadn’t considered what else she might promise in indulging her own needs.
She rubbed her forehead tiredly, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in such a short space of time. She couldn’t process everything. Still, there was something about Tony Pandolinni that drew her to him. But she certainly hadn’t intended to make love to him in the back seat of his car. She needed him to help her solve the mystery of the necklace. She needed his expertise in criminal matters—and that was all she needed.
She owed him an apology for allowing their physical intimacy to go as far as it had. She owed him an apology for unconsciously promising things her intellect wasn’t prepared to give. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she leaned her head back against the car seat, gathering her thoughts before she went to find him and offer her apology.
* * *
Tony sat on a moss-covered rock, breathing deeply of the clean, country air, trying to eradicate the vision of Libby’s bare breasts. It wasn’t just the thought of her breasts that tormented him and made his desire difficult to kill. It was also the sound of her throaty moans, the sight of her passion-glazed azure eyes, the satiny feel of her heated flesh.
Damn it, he wanted her so badly, he ached with the need to take her, possess her, make her cry out his name in ecstasy.
He released a long, ragged sigh and clenched his trembling hands tightly together. He had been physically attracted to her from the moment he had first met her, but he’d been physically attracted to many women in the past, and never had he lost control as he had just now in the car. For heaven’s sake, they had fallen on each other like sex-starved teenagers.
He breathed deeply once again, reflecting on all the times lately that he had come home after work and sat in his driveway, momentarily wishing there were somebody in the empty house waiting with a hot cup of coffee and a sympathetic shoulder.
Dangerous thinking, he admonished himself. He could always hire a housekeeper to make his coffee and a therapist to listen to all his problems. He didn’t need a woman in his life. He’d been happy for thirty-six years without one. He wasn’t about to compromise the vow he’d made long ago.
Still, even as he tried to dismiss thoughts of Libby, his mind filled with hazy, evocative images. Libby in her little blue teddy, handing him a freshly brewed cup of coffee, her eyes promising greater delights to come. Libby, lying in bed next to him, wrapping him up in her heat, enfolding him to her heart.
Fantasy, he chided himself angrily, unwilling to concede that there might be a need in him that Libby Weatherby, with her easy laughter and direct manner, might be able to fill.
He turned to see the object of his thoughts making her way through the thick underbrush toward him. She sat down next to him on the rock, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Tony didn’t want to talk to her, perversely irritated with her because she somehow made him feel vulnerable.
“Tony, I owe you an apology,” she said softly, not looking at him but instead directing her attention out over the rolling hillside in the distance.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he countered tersely.
“On the contrary, I owe you for many things, but I definitely owe you an apology for that scene in the car,” she said, coming right to the point with the straightforwardness he found both appealing and slightly unnerving. “I usually don’t get myself into a position where I could be called a ‘tease,’ but that’s exactly what I did, and for that I’m sorry.”
When he didn’t answer, she continued, “I really have no excuse for what happened…for letting things go so far. I guess I was scared and I suddenly realized how mortal we are and well, I guess it’s the same way a lot of people felt during World War II. I suppose there were a lot of babies conceived in bomb shelters. I think I read about that sort of thing someplace—it’s some sort of phenomenon…people reaching out for passion in times of facing death—” She broke off and looked at him.
As she talked, Tony felt his anger dissipating. After all, her explanation made his whole crazy feelings for her—the whole crazy scene in the car—make a certain kind of sense. Of course, they had both responded to the stress of being chased, the fear of being hurt or killed. It was a sort of war-induced sexual freedom. They had smelled death and destruction and had responded by reaching out for each other in the oldest form of communication in the world. It had nothing to do with any special feelings for her; it had nothing to do with her at all. He would have reacted the same to any woman in the same circumstances.
He turned and smiled at her, feeling relieved. “Making love in a crowded bomb shelter has got to be easier than making love in the front seat of a car…especially with dancing squirrels in the area.”
She returned his smile, obvious relief on her face, as well. “I think we both agree that what happened between us in the car was a crazy mistake. We’ve been thrown together due to a bizarre twist of fate, and we shouldn’t let that fact force us into a personal relationship we might regret.” She looked at him, her blue eyes serious and level. “I think the best way for us to handle this is to work as business partners, with no personal entanglements to muddle things up.”
“Absolutely,” Tony agreed instantly, relieved that their relationship had not only been identified in words, but agreed upon, as well.
“Partners?” She thrust her hand out to him.
He hesitated only a moment. “Partners,” he agreed, taking her small hand in a firm handshake, ignoring the way even the mere physical contact of her hand in his caused tingles of pleasure to dance up his arm. “We’d better get back on the road,” he said, releasing her hand.
She nodded.
As they walked back to the car, Tony was pleased that apparently she wasn’t looking for a relationship, either. It made things so much less complicated, and they had enough complications just trying to keep one step ahead of the men who were after them.
Now, if he could just forget the hot, sweet taste of her mouth against his. If he could just forget the feel of her silky flesh, the way her breasts had swelled, as if in anticipation of his caress….
A lapse of memory would certainly make things easier, he thought as he started up the car. But one thing Tony had learned through the years was that life was rarely easy.