Angie couldn’t believe she was doing this—skulking around some dingy back alley. One moment, she had been anticipating a cozy little retreat at Bodega Bay, peaceful and safe. The next, she’d been persuaded to hide out in the city for a couple more days. Why had she turned into such a marshmallow when he turned those baby blues on her and suggested she stay at his home? Even his obvious reluctance to have her there hadn’t defused her ready agreement. Damn! She didn’t know what angered her more: him or her reaction to him.
Did she honestly think she’d have a second chance at melting his cold heart? Whom was she kidding? But, on the other hand, as her niggling inner voice pointed out, he must care at least a little bit, or he would have simply sent her packing. It couldn’t all be out of duty.
So here she was, standing among bulging Hefty garbage bags and trash cans, in a dark alley, imagining assailants lurking behind every dark corner and waiting for Prince Charming to find them a taxi cab.
She’d handed Rico her car keys and her suitcases. Rico would take Angie’s car, drive around for about a half hour, and, when he was sure he wasn’t being followed, meet them at a parking lot across town. She and Paavo had taken the stairs from her apartment to the basement, and then run to a side door exit.
She’d held her breath as Paavo raised his gun, opened the door, and bobbed his head outside. When no one tried to remove it, she had followed him into the darkness.
They had scrambled over three backyard fences before they reached the street on the opposite side of the block from Angie’s apartment. Every muscle in her body ached. Going over the fences wasn’t so bad—Paavo had given her a boost up and steadied her as she got both legs on the other side of the fence—but landing on that other side had caused her teeth to rattle. She was amazed she hadn’t broken a leg, if not her neck, doing it.
Now they huddled in an alley off of a busy street until a taxi drove by. Paavo ran into the street and hailed it. It stopped.
Sore and exhausted, she flopped back against the cab’s seat, wondering what she was doing. Was she the crazy one, or was it the cop beside her? The cop who made her so angry she scarcely knew her own mind….
He’d promised to drive her, using her car, to Bodega as soon as he was free to go. As they neared the rendezvous point with Rico, she realized he hadn’t ever actually seen her car. “My car’s pretty small,” she said. “It’s Italian, and a couple of years old already. Anyway, since the trip to Bodega is fairly long, if you prefer, I could rent something bigger to drive up there.”
The cab pulled into the lot. Rico was leaning against Angie’s white Ferrari.
“No,” Paavo said with a little catch in his voice, “your car will do just fine.”
Thanking Rico for all his help, Angie gave him her father’s card, in case she wasn’t able to send the payment due him and Joey.
His eyes took on a sad cast as he nodded, then left.
She turned to hand her car keys to Paavo, but he was already halfway in the car, checking out its dials and running his hands lingeringly over the soft leather interior. She’d never dreamed she’d be envious of a car.
“I can’t wait to get away,” Angie said shortly after they arrived at Paavo’s cottage. “Can’t you do something, pull a few strings, so we can leave tomorrow?”
Paavo sat on the sofa, his hands clasped. A sudden shadow came over his face. “Tomorrow morning is Matt’s funeral.”
“I hadn’t realized,” she whispered. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“No.”
She nodded. Why had she expected any other answer? Again, she wrapped herself in her rancor at him, making it a shield against the compassion she also felt, but in this proximity, her anger was difficult to hold. Holding a grudge didn’t come naturally to her. She preferred to have a simple, cleansing tantrum, and then get over it and go back to being friendly once more. But Paavo wouldn’t allow her to get close enough even for that.
Hercules was kicking up a ruckus. The cat’s hunger made Angie remember that she hadn’t eaten all day either, and probably, neither had Paavo.
Within minutes, Hercules was devouring his canned food as she scrambled eggs, made toast, and heated a can of chili. Paavo’s pitiful pantry offered little choice.
She set the kitchen table, dished out the food, and returned to the living room to call Paavo.
He was curled up on the sofa, sound asleep, his brow unlined, the sadness and worry momentarily gone. She stood over him a moment, realizing that he needed sleep far more than dinner. She suspected he hadn’t slept well last night, and she knew he had spent the night before that at the hospital, at the station, and with her. She stood there a long time, just watching him. He could be brusque, cold, and bossy, but underneath, his heart was warm—with others, at least. Matt must have known that, and Matt’s wife. She remembered Chief Hollins saying Matt’s son liked visiting Paavo. It seemed Paavo wasn’t doing nearly as good a job as he imagined at hiding his true nature. Poor man.
She found the linen closet and an extra blanket. Perhaps her being there relaxed him in some way he didn’t even realize. She hoped it was so, because that was how she felt. In fact, she had to admit she liked being there more than the thought of being alone in Bodega. She covered him, smoothing the blanket over his long, powerful frame. Maybe he’d ask…no, demand…that she stay right there until her own place was safe again. Of course, she’d say “no” for a little while….
She ate dinner alone. After cleaning up the kitchen, she moved her suitcase into the bedroom. It was a comfortable room. The whole house was comfortable, as Paavo was under that steely surface.
She read the plaques and certificates on his wall, all of which had to do with the police force. Aulis Kokkonen must have been a good influence, but what makes a kid go from the streets to the force? Whatever it was, being a cop meant a lot to him. He clearly was proud of his work and his accomplishments, and he believed in them. Looking at his mementos, she felt a stirring of affinity. She couldn’t have explained it, but it was there.
After changing into a long, heavy, flannel nightgown—brought along especially for cold Bodega nights—she switched on the lamp by the nightstand, propped up pillows, and took Sam’s recipes from her handbag. She had decided to read through them to see if she could spot some code or clue, as Paavo had suggested. There had to be some hint, some ingredient….
The next morning, the smell of freshly brewed coffee gently nudged her awake. Across the room, Paavo stood at his dresser, his back to her, putting on cufflinks. That done, he looked in the mirror, adjusted his tie, and picked up his hairbrush.
Angling her head just a bit, she could see his reflection in the mirror. She stared, struck by how handsome he looked in his charcoal suit, dark tie, and white shirt. She hadn’t spent much time simply observing the man before. Usually she had been too busy being irritated by him to pay much attention. But as always, he had a magnetism that she couldn’t deny.
Deep in thought, he held a faraway look that softened his features and erased the wariness that too often defined his expression.
She noticed the gentle waves appearing in his hair now that it was a bit longer than when she had first met him. The skin at the inner corners of his eyes and below was a shade darker than the surrounding area, making his eyes look especially deep set and intense. She loved his eyes.
Her gaze caught his in the mirror. He had been watching her through the glass with an odd expression on his face. She smiled and tried to appear nonchalant, as if she hadn’t been staring at him so openly, so admiringly.
“Good morning,” she said.
He put down the hairbrush and faced her. His gaze traveled the length of her there, in his bed, wrapped in his blankets. When he raised his eyes to hers again, they were like blue flames. Their heat traveled straight to her heart.
He turned abruptly to the dresser and began to rummage through the things on top of it. “Where are the keys?…Ah!”
“Did you eat, Inspector?” she asked, wrapping her pink quilted robe over her gown as she got out of bed.
“I’m not hungry.” He left the bedroom and walked toward the front door. “I won’t be gone long. I’ll use your car, if you don’t mind. Mine is still at your place.”
“Fine.” She followed right behind him.
“Don’t go out. A patrolman will be driving by at least every half hour. He’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Thank you,” she said. He reached for the doorknob, looking so alone that her heart ached for him and she moved closer to him. All of yesterday’s resolutions had vanished, and she couldn’t let him go without saying something. “Paavo.” Her voice was a choked whisper.
He turned, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, tightly, not even quite sure how she had gotten there. The clean, spicy scent of his aftershave, and the warm, firm feel of his lips made her knees weak. Almost as quickly, she let go of him. She was embarrassed but nonetheless glad she had kissed him. “Take very, very good care of yourself,” she murmured.
He nodded, his blue eyes capturing hers a moment, and then he hurried from the house.