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Perkins finally spoke up. “You were away from your house last night.”
She glared at him through the glass panel. “With tragedies unfolding one right after another, you had nothing better to do than put surveillance on my house?”
As unflappable as a statue, he said, “You weren’t seen leaving, but you returned at two-thirty-four a.m.”
“I’m impressed, Detective. Even I couldn’t have told you what time I got home.”
“Where were you, Ms. Foster?”
“None of your damn business.” Then, thinking about the honey/vinegar adage, she said, “But if you must know, I was out late at a friend’s house. Not Elle. Another friend. A male friend.” She arched her eyebrow, implyingGet it?
“I didn’t learn about the shit show at that safe house of yours until I got home and turned on the TV. I immediately started calling Elle’s phone and continued calling for over an hour. She hasn’t picked up or called back, leading me to believe that she doesn’t want to be found just yet, and who could blame her?”
The two on her porch remained unmoved. Compton repeated, “Let us in.”
“And have you stomping through my house in muddy shoes for nothing? I don’t think so. Watch my lips. Elle. Isn’t. Here.”
“If that’s true—”
“It is.”
“—then she could be in even greater danger,” Compton said. “Is she with Calder Hudson?”
Glenda’s breath was momentarily arrested, but she tried not to give that away. “That’s what you said in your interview on TV. So you tell me. Is she? Did they escape together, or was that supposition on your part?”
“How much do you know about him, Ms. Foster?”
“I know his girlfriend has a big mouth. If not for Shauna Calloway, Elle wouldn’t be in danger of her life.”
Compton exchanged a glance with Perkins before coming back to her. “We’re as worried about Elle’s safety as you are, especially in light of Mr. Whitley’s death, which appears to have been a homicide.”
Glenda thought that over. “Between him and Elle, the common denominator is the Fairground shooting.”
“It hasn’t been established yet that these two crimes are related, but even a tangential connection seems likely.” She let that sink in, then said, “I ask again, is your friend with Calder Hudson?”
Glenda looked at them in turn. “Is all this abouthim?” Neither responded, only maintained their infuriating passivity.
Decision made, Glenda disengaged the alarm, unbolted the door, and opened it. “I’ll make coffee.”
Calder eased himself away from his spooned position with Elle, trying not to wake her. Also trying not to be tempted to wake her. God knew she needed the sleep.
Their trek through the woods had been a mere warm-up for their sexual exertions. In between bouts of ardent coupling, they’d rested while lazily exploring each other. They kissed endlessly.
That cycle of lovemaking had continued until their bodies had demanded a time-out. Heavy eyelids and languid limbs ultimately betrayed them. They’d fallen sleep.
But now, just by watching her in a deep slumber, he became aroused. His body was reawakened to how much pleasure it had derived from hers. What a delightful surprise to discover that her wholesome aspect concealed an incredibly carnal lover.
Every inch of her was sensitive to the touch of his fingertips, lips, tongue. He’d been ravenous. She’d been inviting and generous, responding without inhibition even when, after minutes of nuzzling between her thighs, he’d made good on his promise to kiss her on that most delicate spot when he had the time. He’d taken a lot of time.
Shauna prided herself on being a hot number in the sack. She didn’t come close to Elle’s secret smolder. Her full lower lip only got plumper when kissed, sucked, bitten. Her unusually colored eyes became downright sultry during foreplay. He now knew that her laugh didn’t only sound sexy. It had a cello-string vibration that he wanted to bottle, so he could apply it, as she had, to his beseeching cock.
With a muffled groan of self-denial, he got up and slipped into the bathroom. Making as little noise as possible, he showered and dressed, then, in stocking feet, left the suite for the kitchen.
The cabinetry included a desk nook furnished with a laptop, which he booted up using the password on Glenda’s chart. After making coffee, he sat down at the desk and began his search for Arnold Draper.
Assuming that Compton had unearthed that name from his own work files, he accessed them from the cloud, ran a search, and found Draper, Arnold M. (Milton) in a client’s file from four years ago.
Out of hundreds, Calder never would have remembered the name or the man. He never would have met him. He never would have wanted to know him.
