Snoops in the City (A Romantic Comedy) (5 page)

Okay, then. An excuse might not be the way to go. Outright denial sounded like a better strategy.

"Me, follow you?" She placed her hand on her breastbone and affected a fluttering laugh. "You're sadly mistaken, sir."

Like that would work
, she thought with a roll of her eyes.

She hadn't come up with anything better when cars parked on the street and in the circular driveway of a sprawling contemporary alerted her they'd arrived at their destination.

Located in a pricey enclave of homes that hugged the Intracoastal Waterway, the Mediterranean-style house had a multi-level stucco exterior in pale coral and a barrel-tile roof in a slightly darker shade.

Dramatic ground-level spotlights highlighted the forty-foot-tall palm trees in the front yard and shone on the covered, double-door entry. Every arched window was illuminated from within, attesting to a party going on.

Tori had heard homeowners in this part of Seahaven acquired older waterfront houses, demolished them and replaced them with pricier versions.

Although she thought it a shame to tear down history, she couldn't help admiring the dynamic, resourceful, self-made mayor.

A recent profile in the
Seahaven Gazette
told of the killing the mayor had made investing commissions she earned as a Realtor into property she later resold at a substantial profit.

If private investigation didn't work out
, Tori thought as she parked behind Grady's SUV,
maybe she should consider a career in real estate
.

She wiped her damp palms on her slacks. She needed to stop this nonsense about taking up an alternative career and concentrate on convincing Grady he had it wrong.

She might even manage to turn a negative into a positive. Taking a man's measure had to be easier face to face instead of in the shadows observing from afar.

Besides, by process of elimination, she had to be good at something. Why not PI work?

“You're full of surprises," he said when she joined him in front of the house. He'd jammed his hands in the pockets of his khakis, lending him a deceptively casual air. "I didn't think you'd come."

Not coming had been an option? She'd been so rattled that hadn't occurred to her. But fleeing would only have made him more suspicious.

"I'm not exactly dressed for a party." Her slacks and blouse were of good quality but were both brown. She would have worn the more correct black, the better to blend into the surroundings, but the color caused her to look washed out.

“You look great to me." His eyes skimmed over her, and her pulse skittered. “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t sure you’d come now that I know you’ve been following me.”

Her time of reckoning had arrived.

"I need to set you straight about that." She only had to tilt her head back slightly to meet his eyes, which surprised her. He seemed larger than life but probably fell just shy of six feet. "I wasn't following you."

“Is that why you took off at the golf course when you saw me coming?”

Oh, no. She'd thought the floppy hat and sunglasses had kept him from recognizing her.
Start bluffing
, a shrill voice inside her head screamed.
Now
.

“That had nothing to do with you.” She airily waved a hand. “I left because the event was almost over.”

He didn’t reply. She nervously chewed her bottom lip, thinking she should elaborate to make her story more believable.

"There wasn’t much more to see," she said.

Still no response.

“And I remembered something else I had to do.”

Was that suspicion she saw in his beautiful eyes?

“Something vitally important,” she clarified. There. That should allay his distrust. Except he still looked puzzled. “I needed. . . to feed my cat."

Oh, great. Had she really said that?

“She gets hungry if she’s home alone too long.”

He tilted his head quizzically. “Why don’t you leave food out for her?”

“Because. . . I don’t want her to stuff herself. You know what they say about a number of small meals a day being healthier than one large meal.”

“I thought cats stopped eating when they were full.”

“Not this cat.” She spread her hands wide. “This is one fat cat.”

“As interesting as all this is,” he said slowly, “we were talking about you following me.”

Adrenaline rushed through her like river water after a storm, and she recognized it as the fight or flight instinct.
Flee
, her mind screamed.

She nodded toward the etched glass front door. The muffled laughter and music behind it sounded like salvation. “We should go inside so we don't miss out on the fun."

“Not until we straighten this out,” he said, and she looked wildly about for help. A car door slammed somewhere down the block, but they were alone on the front lawn. “I want to know why I’ve seen you four times in the past few days.”

“You couldn’t have,” she cried. She’d adhered to the instructions in the paperback to a T, donning dark glasses, being careful not to get within twenty yards of him, sticking to the shadows.

“Let’s count them." He held up one hand, then raised his thumb before unfolding his fingers one by one. “At the post office, across the street from Palmer Construction, at the golf course and in my neighborhood. How do you explain that?”

“It sounds like a coincidence,” she ventured.

He snorted. “You obviously don’t watch crime shows on TV.”

“Why’s that?”

“The cops never believe in coincidence.”

“That’s silly,” Tori said. “If there were no such thing as coincidence, there wouldn’t be a word for it, now would there?”

“If this is all a big coincidence,” he said, taking a step toward her, “why are you so nervous?”

Her sweating palms, fast-beating heart and shallow breathing made denying it pointless. She'd never perfected the art of lying anyway. She doubted she could convince a three-year-old there was a Santa Claus.

“You might as well admit it,” he pressed. “You were following me.”

“Okay,” she snapped. "You win. I was following you.”

“I knew it.” His baby blues narrowed and his luscious lips thinned. He could challenge Arnold Schwarzeneggar for the starring role if they ever made a movie called The Intimidator. “What I want to know is why.”

She resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. She'd had such high hopes that she could excel at private detective work. Yet here she was on the brink of failing not only herself but Eddie and Ms. M as well. The thought of it made her feel like weeping.

“There’s a simple explanation,” Tori hedged as she desperately cast about for one.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting."

One of the artificial spotlights shone down on him, adding light to his captivating features. Her eyes widened, the way they had the first time she'd seen his likeness.
That’s it
, she thought.
The perfect explanation
.

“The truth is,” she said and took a breath for courage, “I think you’re hot.”

Grady carried a strawberry daiquiri and a whiskey sour past a mostly decorative coral-and-marble fireplace in Honoria Black's great room fifteen minutes later, one phrase echoing in his mind.

Yeah, right.

Tori Whitley, if that were her real name, hadn't fooled him. He knew some females found him attractive, but Tori was hardly the type of woman who trailed guys around town.

Besides, if Tori thought he were so hot, wouldn't she touch him the way she casually touched everyone else she talked to?

Not that he wanted her to touch him. Much. Okay, strike that. He might crave the feel of her hands on his skin, but he was smart enough to know he shouldn’t.

She'd probably been hired by one of the people at this party to spy on him. Maybe, as he'd originally suspected, she worked for the mayor herself.

He might have figured it out by now if a City Councilman and his wife hadn’t strolled up to them seconds after she'd uttered the I'm-so-hot-for-you whopper.

After he’d introduced Tori, she'd chatted and laughed with the couple as though they’d known each other forever. She'd told them she worked part-time at Frasier's Department store while she searched for steadier work. That had prompted the councilman to tell her of a secretarial opening at City Hall.

Grady had followed the three of them into the mayor’s stunning home, forced to bide his time until he could get Tori alone.

But now she talked to Honoria Black by the glass doors that led to the patio, her face rapt with interest as she gazed up at the mayor. Honoria, nearly six feet tall in her stocking feet, should have drawn the eye in her bold red pantsuit. But Tori, dressed in sparrow brown, outstaged her with her laughing face and sparkling eyes.

"Opportunity is everywhere," he heard Honoria say as he approached. "The trick is recognizing it when you see it. That’s my true talent."

"You're too modest," Tori replied. "From what I read, you're talented at everything you do."

"Here's my secret. I never do anything I know I won't be good at," Honoria said and laughed so loudly heads all over the room turned.

Grady suspected at this juncture in her life the mayor excelled at profiting at the expense of the citizens she'd been elected to serve.

If Honoria were a character in a Western, she'd be the smooth heavy — the big, rich boss who did the conniving before sending stooges out to perform the dirty work.

Given some time and a little luck, Grady might even be able to prove it.

"Now I know why you hosted a golf tournament, Honoria," Grady said when he joined them, handing the daiquiri to Tori. She took it with a smile of thanks that did something odd to his gut.
Please God
, he prayed,
let it be indigestion
. "You knew you were a ringer."

"Absolutely." The mayor commandeered the Scotch and water he'd intended for himself and toasted him. "Tori tells me I've you to thank for bringing her to the party. How long have you two been dating?"

Grady checked his watch. “For about twenty minutes.”

The mayor turned back Tori. "I thought you said you were at the golf course because of him.”

Tori brought a slender index finger to her mouth and laid it against her lips. “Shhh. We don’t want him getting a big head.”

The retort was nothing more than meaningless party banter, at which Tori was amazingly adept. The mayor let out her loud, boisterous laugh, no doubt as Tori had intended.

Grady narrowed his eyes as he watched the two women. Were they in on this together? Was the fast-friends act part of a plan to make him think they hadn’t known each other previously?

“We’ve got to be careful not to let him get too full of himself,” the mayor said in a teasing voice. “Our Grady, he’s a real lady killer. You saw how he almost clouted me today with that ball.”

Tori’s brows knitted. “But Grady wasn’t the one who—”

Oh, damn.

“You’ll never let me forget that, will you, mayor?” Grady interrupted. If Pete Aiken thought Grady had ratted on him, he'd be less likely to hook him up with other dirty officials. Grady couldn't risk that — not with Aiken hip deep in the corruption plaguing City Hall.

“One of the reasons I’ve gotten to where I am today is because I’m careful." The mayor considered him over the lip of the glass as she sipped the stolen Scotch and water. “I look out for people who might want to hurt me.”

Did she keep making comments like that because she knew Grady was one of those people? Was she aware that he'd love to bring her down along with her administration?

“Even if Grady
had
hit that ball,” Tori said, cutting her eyes at him to show she knew otherwise, “he didn’t do it deliberately.”

The mayor clapped her hands. “The way Tori leaps to your defense is precious, Grady. Why, you could probably convince her you're here tonight to have a good time."

“That
is
why he’s here,” Tori said.

“Like I said, she’s precious." The mayor winked at Grady. To Tori, she said, "I meant what I said about repaying the favor you did me today. Call if I can ever do anything for you. Now you'll have to excuse me. I need to say hello to Wade."

“What did she mean?” Tori asked after Mayor Black left them to greet the late-arriving Tax Assessor. She caught her lower lip with her upper teeth. "Why else would you come to the party if not to have a good time?”

“She thinks I’m here because I want the city to award Palmer Construction the contract to build the new community center."

The alternative, that the mayor knew he cozied up to city officials in order to eventually double-cross them, was more hazardous for his peace of mind.

“Palmer Construction? Is that the company you work for?”