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Had someone made another attempt on her life? The very idea left him cold.
Catching hold of her arm, Bowie physically stopped her exit. “Marlowe, what’s wrong?”
Because he had her arm, she was forced to stop. It was either that or create a scene, and while he knew she had no qualms about doing that if the situation warranted it, for the time being, it didn’t.
Tossing her head, Marlowe looked up at him. “You mean other than the fact that your assistant over there could benefit from a crash course in manners?” she asked, casting a disparaging look in the older woman’s direction. Gloria stood, looking formidable, frowning at Marlowe.
Right now, his attention was focused on the large box Marlowe was holding. He curbed his immediate desire to ask her about it.
“Yes, other than that,” Bowie answered dismissively. He knew without turning to look in Gloria’s direction that the woman was taking in every syllable. The assistant was exceedingly protective when it came to him. “Why don’t you come into my office?” he suggested. “You can tell me why you’ve ventured into enemy territory.” He expected at least a small smile in response, but when Bowie peered at her face, Marlowe continued to look like the very definition of anger. “Nothing?” he asked. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
Rather than answer his question, Marlowe said, “Let’s go into your office like you suggested—as long as your fire-breathing protector doesn’t object.”
Bowie felt like he had to come to the woman’s defense. “Gloria was just doing her job, Marlowe,” he told her, leading the way back to his office. “There are a lot of people trying to get to talk to me for one reason or another.”
“Really?” she said. “That must be really rough on you.”
Bowie closed the door behind them. Once it was shut, he turned to look at his unexpected visitor. She really looked upset, and he didn’t think that he was the reason for that.
“All right, Marlowe. Let’s stop waltzing around. What happened since I dropped you off? Why are you here?” he asked. And, since she hadn’t volunteered the information herself, he nodded at the box she was holding. “And what’s that?”
She placed it on top of his desk. “That was waiting for me in my office when I got in this morning. When I asked my assistant who left it there, she didn’t know. She said it must have been put into my office before she got in. The woman regularly gives roosters their wake-up call, as a sideline.”
“So whoever dropped that thing off either came into the office incredibly early, or he knew your assistant’s routine,” Bowie surmised.
“And if it’s the latter, that suggests that whoever did leave this gift works at Colton Oil,” she told him. “Otherwise, how could he possibly have known Karen’s routine?”
Bowie inclined his head. She had a good point there, he thought. “And just what did this mystery man drop off?” he asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.
Marlowe had been doing her best to distance herself from the implications that this “gift” brought with it, not to mention what it indicated about the person who had given it to her. She had just gotten the bear back from Security, which had found the stuffed animal to contain nothing harmful. A lot they knew, she thought.
Telling Bowie about the bear brought those feelings back to her in spades.
Pulling the teddy bear with its note out of the box, she put both on his desk.
“This,” she declared.
“A teddy bear?” he asked, as if not quite certain why she seemed to be so shaken up by the gift. “It’s a little strange, but I don’t—”
“Read the note that came with it,” she insisted. “And then we’ll talk.”
Picking up the card, Bowie quickly read it. His expression became grave. “I see what you mean.”
“It appears that I’ve got a hostile admirer,” she told Bowie. She could all but feel the hostility emanating from the card. Restless, Marlowe began to pace back and forth in front of his desk. She wasn’t accustomed to not handling problems, and yet, with no one to focus on, there wasn’t anything she could do about this.
Bowie nodded thoughtfully. “That would explain why the attacks on me started after I left your hotel room that morning. It points to the fact that this admirer of yours is jealous.”
Marlowe tried not to shiver, but she failed. “My admirer is crazy,” she corrected.
“Well, yes, that goes without saying,” Bowie agreed. “Can you think of anyone you’ve turned down recently?”
Marlowe shook her head. “I haven’t turned down anyone,” she protested. “I’ve been so busy, nobody’s even approached me on a social level. It’s been all about work,” she told him.
“Okay, have you noticed anyone staring at you lately—worshipfully or otherwise?”
“No to both questions,” she told him. She drew herself up. “But I know one thing for sure.”
“And what’s that?” he asked.
