Hart To Hart (14 page)

When had he turned into a sex machine? “Haven’t gotten out much lately, have you?”

Vic reached for the food. “Let’s eat.”

The avoidance told her a lot about him. Perhaps women had been afraid of a man with a scar. Their loss.

He moved the files and other paperwork to the side of his desk and spread out the food. “It smells heavenly,” she said.

“It should taste just as good. Italiano’s is the best.”

She dished up her helping of lasagna as did Vic. She nodded to the computer. “What are you working on?”

“My old boss just faxed me the names of all my cases. It was like going down memory lane.”

“Did you catch all the men you went after?” If not, the person targeting her family might believe Vic was still an FBI agent, and the man might want to stop him from continuing the investigation at all cost.

“More or less. I first checked to see if any of the criminals were out of jail. Good news. None are. That leaves either an accomplice or perhaps a relative who would come after us.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot.”

He shrugged. “I’ve solved cases on less.”

She liked to hear that. “How far back are you going?”

“I’ve looked at the cases since we split up. I figure someone from five years ago might know you were my wife. Hell, he might still believe we’re together.”

Ellie couldn’t imagine the additional pain she’d have gone through if she’d learned Vic had been burned in a fire. “That’s logical. You have any names?”

He pushed back his chair and picked up three pages from the printer. “Eat first then you can look at these.”

She slipped them from his fingers as he sat down. “I can do both.”

As she ate the delicious meal, she perused the list. “I remember this man, Stanton Neely, only because this was the last case you had while we were together.”

He winced. “Yes. He stands out in my mind because of that, too.”

Ellie studied the rest of the names, digging deep into her memory. “I got nothing here.”

“Do any of the last names sound familiar? Could one of them have come into the gallery to browse or maybe buy one of the paintings under the guise of checking you out?”

“I’m not the best with names—other than Washington, Lincoln, and an occasional Benjamin Franklin, but I don’t recall anyone even debating buying a painting who didn’t seem into art.”

“That’s too bad. The hard part now will be researching the relatives of the incarcerated men, or possibly any cellmates who’ve been released.”

“That could take forever since that could be thousands of people.”

Vic finished his piece of lasagna. “You have a better idea?”

She decided against suggesting they go back to Washington and investigate, in case the man who took a shot at Charlotte was some hired hand rather than the criminal. “Not really.”

Vic waited until she finished off the last of her food, and then dumped the containers in the trash. “Since you seem dead set against having sex with me, what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?”

She laughed. “Will you stop with the sex talk, already?”

“I can’t help it.” Vic stepped from the other side of the desk and held out his right hand. She placed her palm in his and he helped her stand. “I swear I haven’t thought about getting laid—at least not this often—until you walked in that door a few days ago. So, it’s really your fault for looking so damn sexy.”

“You are such a suck up. You want me to look like a bag lady?”

“Might help.”

Before she could tell him he was being ridiculous, he wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her close. When their lips met, pure rapture spiked through her, and every objection to them being together evaporated. As much as she wanted to strip him naked and do him right there, she was sore.

Ellie broke the kiss. “For one thing, the front door’s open, and secondly, we need to wait.”

“I know. I was just testing you.”

She lightly punched him in the chest. “Jerk.”

“I have an idea about how to spend some fun time.”

She could use some levity. “Does it involve ropes of any kind?” Vic seemed to have a one-track mind.

He narrowed his eyes. “I like the way you think, but no. We have an indoor miniature golf course attached to the bowling alley. The good part is that it’s in a room with black light. The balls are painted fluorescent orange, as are the holes. It’s dark in there, which means no one would try anything.”

When they first dated, they used to play miniature golf all the time and had a lot of fun. “Sounds great.”

After they donned their coats, they exited the front entrance and Vic locked the door. “I think it might be best if you park in the back next time.”

“I didn’t know there was a back entrance.”

“There is. I use it because I don’t need people seeing my comings and goings.”

“I’ll remember that next time.” Not that she’d be in her car alone anytime soon.

Once in the car, Vic directed her the four blocks east. The bowling alley seemed packed, but it made sense since it was a Saturday afternoon.

“Looks like we might get some bad weather,” Vic said, as she located a spot close to the front.

“Just what we don’t need. Getting snowed in would be bad.”

“I don’t know about that. Warm fire, hot coffee, lots of snuggling.”

She could only shake her head. Where had this man been when they were married? Leaving the FBI seemed to have been good for him. She was happy he appeared content.

They hustled inside as the wind was biting and the sky gray. The noise from the pins, along with all the chatter, assaulted her—as did the smell of beer, oil, and perspiration.

Vic paid and the kid behind the counter handed them the golf balls. “It’s around the side to the left.”

“Thanks.”

As they walked toward the back, Ellie thought Charlotte should be here. She loved to bowl. “Do you think we can call Charlotte? I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Vic placed a hand on her back and led her to the section where they could pick out their golf clubs. “I know this is hard for you because it’s really hard for me, but it’s best if we don’t contact her. Trent is a good cop. He’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”

“I know, but I miss her. What harm can one little call do?”

“Phones can be traced.”

Damn. “You think this guy is that smart?”

“Some criminals are unbelievably stupid while others are rather bright. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with.”

She didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize her daughter’s safety. “Okay.”

Vic pulled out his phone and her pulse jacked up. “Speaking of being able to trace phones, I want to make sure I always know where you are. There’s a location setting on your phone as well as mine.”

Vic showed her how to change the setting on hers. “In fact, I asked Charlotte to do it to her phone a while back.” Vic brought up her number and a map appeared. “She’s in Seffner. That’s about an hour from here. It must be where Trent’s cabin is. When we finish playing golf, we can check it again. I bet she’ll be in the same spot.”

Ellie gave Vic a hug. “Thank you. That makes me feel better.”

“Ready to get trounced?”

“Trounced? I don’t think so. If you recall, I could hold my own in this game.”

He shook his head. “Back then, I let you win so I could get into your pants.”

She tried to punch him, but he stepped out of the way and laughed. “Come on.”

Chapter Thirteen

E
llie hadn’t expected
it to be so dark inside the black light room. She held onto Vic’s arm, waiting for her eyes to adjust. “Everything is glowing. How do you know where to start?”

“The first hole is over here.” Vic clasped his hand over hers and moved slowly to the other side of the room.

Good thing he could see. From the laughter, and the number of florescent-colored balls rolling on the floor toward the cups, she guessed about six kids were there. That made her feel better.

Vic stopped then leaned close. “Here’s hole number one. Can you see how the course bends to the left?”

By now, her vision had adjusted to the new conditions. “Yes.”

“You go first,” he said.

He probably just wanted to see how fast the greens were. As Ellie bent down to place the ball on the rubber mat, she gasped.

“What’s wrong,” Vic said.

She stood up. “Why didn’t you tell me you could practically see my yellow bra through my white blouse?”

He grinned and his teeth glowed. “Why did you think I suggested this place?”

“You didn’t know this would happen. If I lose this game it’s because I’m self-conscious.”

“No one cares. Look around. The kids are all too absorbed in what they’re doing.”

He was right, but she wished she didn’t stand out like a neon sign. Refocusing on the task at hand, she tapped the ball. It ricocheted off the right hand wall and headed toward the hole.
Yes!
Just as she was about to raise her arms in victory, the damn thing sailed past its target, hit the back wall, and returned halfway back. Crap. It might only be a stupid game, but she wanted to win.

“Good try, El. Go ahead and put it in. I don’t want to accidentally bump your ball.”

When she bent over again to take her second shot, Vic dragged his club between her legs. She jerked up. “What are you doing?” she whispered, not wanting the kids to hear.

“Trying to distract you.”

She stepped within an inch of his face and playfully grabbed the front of his shirt. “Oh, I get it. You’re afraid of losing. Perfectly understandable since you know I’m that good.” He laughed, damn him. “Now, can you be good for the next half hour while I play my way to a win?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and placed his lips to her ear. “If you promise I don’t have to be good after we leave, I’ll behave.”

It was her turn to chuckle. “Win and we’ll negotiate.”

Vic stepped back. “Deal.”

For the next thirty minutes, they battled. She’d get ahead for a few holes, and then Vic would edge forward. Her winning flow was often disrupted when they were forced to wait for a group of kids to finish, but Ellie admitted she couldn’t remember when she’d had such a good time. Even though bad shit might be happening outside this building, inside, she was insulated against the danger.

In the end, Vic won by two strokes. Damn. Now she’d never hear the end of it. He raised his club. “Want to go again?” he asked.

The release of tension had actually made her tired. “I think I’d like to go back to the house and maybe take a nap. My sleep patterns have been interrupted.” She cleared her throat.

He tapped his chest. “Don’t look at me.”

“Ri-ight.”

They returned their gear and headed out. The sky had turned leaden, but so far, no snow had fallen. “Do we need to stop at the store for food?” she asked.

“We’re good, assuming you can handle frozen dinners and canned food.”

It wasn’t her first choice, but she wasn’t sticking to her food plan while in Montana. The trip to his place only took about ten minutes. While she’d been here after someone shot at Charlotte, Ellie hadn’t been paying attention. Now she studied his house. The exterior of his one-story home was brick. Other than having more trees on a bigger lot, his house looked similar to the one they’d owned many years ago in Virginia. “You chose well.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

From the hope in his tone, she could tell Vic wanted to talk about their future, but she’d only break his heart if they did. There was a time when Vic was her world. Her love had been unconditional, but he’d proven time and time again that his job was his real love. Given all the stuff that was going on, Ellie wasn’t ready to think about how much he’d changed. She had a gallery to run in the nation’s Capital, not to mention all the good friends she didn’t want to leave. While Rock Hard had its artist enclaves, it wasn’t like home, and it could never be a match in terms of culture.

Vic opened the front door and led her inside then slipped the case from her fingers. “I’ll show you where you can stay.”

Really? She assumed he’d want her to be in his room, but she wasn’t going to complain.