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“Poor Bud,” Maggie said sweetly. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you and Randall take the limo to the airport, and I’ll get a taxi?”

“Have you got any more information for us, Willis?” Randall inquired with apparent courtesy.

“Nope. Just that we’re ready to grab the admiral when you get things sewed up in Chicago. Unless you want to bow out—”

“I’ll take care of things. I like to finish what I start.”

“Don’t let the merry widow keep you from nailing her sister if she’s involved. I want Stoneham and McAllister on ice by the day after tomorrow. If you get tired of Mrs. Pulaski here, you can send her back to me for a little discipline. Might as well spread some of the hot Danish around.” He reached out to pinch her again.

Maggie had had enough. She lunged for him, but Randall was faster. He caught her around the waist and held her while she struggled, muttering dire threats and insults.

“If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here, Willis,” Randall said with a cheerful drawl, his strong hands pressed against her middle as she fought him. “If I let her go, there won’t be enough left of you to bury at Arlington.”

“Hey, man, I’m going,” he said, backing away nervously. “Tell your mother I’m looking forward to seeing her again.” And he disappeared back into the night.

“Hell and damnation!” Maggie said. “Put me down!”

Randall obeyed immediately, dropping her onto the marble floor of the deserted foyer. She staggered slightly and stumbled into him, then she quickly righted herself. “Wouldn’t you know my damned mother would have gotten involved with a scumbag like him?” she demanded.

“Don’t believe everything Willis tells you,” Randall said.

She was still staring out into the hot city night. She gave herself a tiny shake. “No, you’re right. I always was too gullible where Bud Willis was concerned. What do you think about what he said?”

“Which scintillating remark?”

Maggie sighed. “Caleb. Do you think he’s really involved?”

“I don’t know. I think we can’t be sure of anything at this point.”

“It would break Kate’s heart.”

“You aren’t going to say anything to her.” Randall’s voice was implacable. It wasn’t a request, and it wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.

A dozen possible retorts rose in her mind, starting with “Says who?” and going downhill from there. She closed her mouth and promised nothing.

“Do you hear me, Maggie? If he is involved, we can’t afford to have him warned. You’re to keep your damned mouth shut, or I sure as hell will find a way to shut it.”

She smiled up at him. He was angry with her; his blue-gray eyes were stormy, and his sexy mouth was a pinched frown. She couldn’t believe that she’d once thought him passionless and inhuman. “You know, you’re beautiful when you’re angry,” she said with a mischievous smile, feeling suddenly, oddly playful. There was something to be said for catharsis, both emotional and sexual.

“Maggie …” His voice held a very definite warning.

“Are we going to Chicago?” she questioned in a dulcet voice.

He stared at her in mute frustration, then thrust out his arm for her to take. “We’re going to Chicago,” he said. And after only a moment’s hesitation, she took it, following him out into the New York City night.

They were back at Kate’s apartment well before midnight. Randall could see tension begin to build in Maggie as they deplaned at O’Hare, and he watched it grow during the ride back into the city in his Jaguar. He knew without false modesty that he was the cause of it. She was wondering where he was planning to sleep tonight.

The apartment was deserted when Maggie opened the door with only slight but telltale fumbling. The matching VCRs were still in place, the curtains were open to the dark Chicago night, and a note was taped to one of the television sets. Before she could reach it, Randall had ripped it off the screen.

“Maggie, where the hell are you?” he read. “Chrissie’s still with Sybil—I’ve gone with Caleb to check out a lead in Wisconsin. Stay put. Kate.”

“Damn,” said Maggie.

“Indeed,” said Randall. “If he’s as bad as Bud Willis thinks, your sister might be in deep trouble.”

“He’s not. I’m sure we can trust him. I have excellent judgment when it comes to people.”

“Do you?”

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