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My love . . . my fairest love . . .
The hand paused, the point of the pen digging into the vellum, but it wasn’t the time to write a signature. Not yet. There was too much to do. Carefull
y, the nib of the pen was pulled away from the page, leaving a small hole that almost looked like a heart. A growing stack of notes lay on the side of the desk and the latest missive was placed gently on top.
Thump, thump, thump.
The prisoner was angry.
Again.
Well, it was past time to take care of that loose end, too, wasn’t it?
Pieces of fate were swirling in the atmosphere and slowly coming together, linking their past, present and future.
Soon, Elizabeth. Very soon . . .
Chapter 18
Monday morning and the sky was deep gray and oppressive. Traffic was moving steadily, but if the rain should fall, who knew what the other California drivers would do. Rain didn’t bother Rex much, but it seemed to paralyze half of the other drivers on the road.
“Far be it from me to tell you what to wear, but do you have anything else?” Rex asked Ravinia as he drove them to the strip mall he’d visited on Sunday, the building that housed Harper Insurance Agency.
In the passenger seat, Ravinia glanced down at her wrinkled blouse and made an effort to smooth it out with her hands. Her jeans had a dark stain on one leg that he hadn’t noticed when they’d been at the Ivy, but at least they weren’t full of holes . . . although with current fashion trends that would undoubtedly be more acceptable. As it was, she looked like she’d been camping for a month . . . which was close to the truth.
“I don’t have a lot of clothes. And I don’t have time to get them clean.” And I don’t care, she could have added.
“I could have thrown them in the wash last night if I’d known.”
Ravinia turned her blue-green eyes his way but said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her cool gaze said it all. There’d been no time to do much of anything but pick her up and take her back to his house, which of course, he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do. But finding her a place to stay at nearly one in the morning had felt like a chore he wasn’t up for, so he’d taken her back and shown her the couch in his family room as there was no second bed. She’d curled up instantly, still wearing her clothes and fallen fast asleep whereas he’d spent a fitful night feeling like a heel, wondering if he should have at least offered to swap the couch for his bed.
He’d heard her get up early in the morning and had tensed, but she’d just used the bathroom. After he’d showered and dressed for the day in casual slacks and a dress shirt, he’d found her standing in the middle of his family room. She’d been staring outside to the leaf-carpeted patio, the last stubborn leaves hanging tenuously to bare branches etched against a gray sky.
“I like your kitchen,” she’d said, still looking through the window.
He’d glanced at her in surprise, then taken a harder look at the kitchen with its basic U-shape and the island that divided it from the family room. “Thanks.”
“Where I come from, we add conveniences at the speed of snail,” she said, still gazing outside.
She’d washed up in the bathroom and then they were on the road. Their only stop had been at a diner where he’d ordered huevos rancheros and watched her tuck into a pile of pancakes that looked fit for Paul Bunyan. That her slim body could eat so much defied the laws of nature. While he sipped coffee, she drank a tall glance of orange juice and another of water.
“How much do I owe you?” she’d asked after he’d paid and they were walking back to the car.
“I’ve got this one.”
“Just put it on my bill,” she said stubbornly.
He’d shrugged, in no mood to fight with her. At that time, he’d tried not to comment on her clothes, but they were about to walk into an interview that could net them information . . . or not.
“We’ll throw ’em in the wash when we get back,” he said as he parked the car.
“When we get back. So you’re not putting me on a bus to somewhere else?”
“Would you go, if I did?”
She smiled. “Maybe, but now I know where you live.”
“That makes you sound like a stalker. People get arrested for that kind of thing.”
