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He shoved a hand through his hair. “I wish to hell I knew.”
“Why aren’t you calling the police?” She finally asked the question that had been bothering her the most. Every time she’d mentioned the police, Blake’s expression had grown shuttered. She wanted to know why.
Again, Blake’s eyes shifted away from hers. He glanced at his watch, then reached for the television remote that lay on the nightstand beside the telephone.
“You’re going to watch TV?” Tara asked in disbelief. “Now?”
“I want to check the local news,” he replied, pressing the power button. “Before we call the police, it might be a good idea to see what’s being said about tonight’s events.”
Tara tried to be patient as he concentrated on the unfolding news report. Several national stories took the lead, and then both Blake and Tara tensed as the news anchor mentioned a robbery at a local art gallery that evening. Cash and a collection of valuable framed miniatures that had been stored in a back office for an upcoming show were missing.
“Details are still sketchy,” the anchorwoman recited, “but police are searching for a man and woman, both blond, both believed to be in their early thirties, who attended the showing this evening as Mr. and Mrs. Bill Austin. If anyone has any information regarding this robbery, they are asked to call the Atlanta police department.”
Tara spun in her chair to stare at Blake. “The police are looking for us? But what about the man who was killed? And why didn’t they mention my real name, since they know who I am?”
“I don’t think the police have as many details about what went on there as we do,” Blake replied.
“You mean they don’t know someone was murdered at that gallery tonight?”
He nodded.
Tara sprang to her feet, moving toward the telephone. “Blake, we have to tell someone. We saw him. We’re witnesses.”
Blake stood, blocking her way. “We’re suspects.”
His blunt words made her catch her breath. She shook her head slowly. “No one would believe we had anything to do with this.”
“We were there, under assumed names. We were wandering around in the back of the gallery during the show. I’m quite sure there are a couple of loyal gallery employees who would be willing to swear they saw us coming out of that office. The same loyal employees who tried to put a bullet into us earlier.”
“But you’re a private investigator. You were there on a case. And I’m an attorney—or at least, I was until...”
She bit her lip. Having been recently fired by her law firm didn’t exactly provide a glowing character reference.
“In general, police officers aren’t all that fond of private investigators,” Blake murmured. “And at the moment, I can’t reach my client to prove that I was there on a case. I have a few friends on the force, but I’d rather wait until we have more to go on before I risk getting us hauled in for interrogation.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Blake?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing specific,” he assured her. “I just...well, I have a feeling.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “A feeling?”
She would almost have sworn that his cheeks darkened as he cleared his throat and looked away. “Sometimes I just know when something’s all wrong. And I’ve been hearing all kinds of mental warning bells about this mess, ever since I found out the number I was given isn’t a working number.”
Narrowing her eyes, she searched his face. “You’re saying that you’re...what? Psychic?”
He scowled. “Let’s just say I’ve learned to trust my instincts.”
“And your instincts are telling you not to call the police.”
“Yeah.”
He looked at her squarely. “I don’t know what’s going on, Tara, and I’m sorry as hell that I’ve gotten you involved in it. I know you think we should call the police, tell them what happened, and let them take care of everything. If that’s what you really want me to do, I’ll call and we’ll take our chances.”
“But your instincts...or your funny feelings, or whatever you call them, tell you that would be a mistake,” she finished slowly.
Still holding her gaze with his, Blake nodded.
She drew a ragged breath. “You’ve had a lot more experience with this sort of thing than I have,” she said after a long pause. “Do what you think is best.”
