Body of Evidence

Dear Reader,

When my Silhouette editors asked me to write about a crime, I became quite excited. I’m a big fan of the forensic science shows on television, which depict the modern-day methods of bringing criminals to justice. With such incredible technology at the fingertips of criminologists and law enforcement in general, the percentage of unsolved crimes has to be dropping.

Of course this book isn’t just about murder, investigation and justice. Romance blossoms among the clues and hard work of the Chicago police department, and I’m sure you will enjoy reading Josh and Maggie’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 1

Maggie Sutter’s heart seemed to be beating much faster than was healthy. She knew she had to pull herself together, as she needed every one of her five senses and every cell in her brain functioning on the highest plane for her to properly and thoroughly investigate the scene of a homicide. But the idea of talking to Josh Benton, and working closely with him, simply wouldn’t leave her thoughts.

Maggie rode the elevator to the Gardner penthouse on the thirty-fifth floor of one of the luxury residential apartment buildings on Chicago’s Gold Coast. Taking off her heavy jacket during the rise, she concluded that this was not your everyday street crime. The Gardner name was known to anyone who paid attention to the business section of Chicago’s newspapers, or to the society pages. The family had clout and immense wealth. Old money, Maggie was certain, and the kind of lifestyle only others of the same class could grasp. Maggie had never longed for great wealth, and she was much more affected by working this case with Josh Benton than hearing that the victim was a Gardner.

The elevator doors opened with barely a whisper and Maggie stepped through them and into a different world, a huge foyer with marble floors and walls, and a few pieces of elegant furniture that had probably cost more than she made in a year. Two uniformed cops were on elevator duty in the foyer, and one of them checked her ID and compared the photo on it with her face.

“Has anyone checked this area for prints?” she asked him.

“Not yet. The photographer’s been at it for about a half hour. He took some shots in here.”

Maggie’s gaze went over the frame of the elevator. Places of entrance and exit sometimes yielded all sorts of evidence. “Make sure anyone using the elevators keeps their hands in their pockets,” she said. “And the stairs as well,” she added, eyeing a door to the left that had to lead to a stairwell. She walked away from the two men and entered the penthouse apartment.

In the most incredibly beautiful room she’d ever seen-counting magazines and movies-Maggie saw a woman sitting on a plush, ivory-colored sofa and crying into a handful of tissues. Changing direction, Maggie walked over to her and the cop seated next to her.

Maggie arched her eyebrow inquisitively at the officer, and he promptly introduced the woman as Miriam Hobart. He explained, “She’s been a housekeeper in this apartment for ten years. She found Franklin Gardner’s body. Something woke her…a sound…and she got up to try to locate its source.” That information prompted another gush of tears from the woman and some loud sobs.

Maggie thought for a moment then decided not to question the woman. First of all, Miriam Hobart was still in shock-or appeared to be-and in the weeping stage of grief. Second, this was Detective Josh Benton’s case, and he might not appreciate her questioning anyone without a direct order from him. As primary detective on the case, he would orchestrate the investigation.

The elegant living room was immaculate and obviously not the scene of the crime. The sofa was already contaminated, so Maggie laid her jacket on the far end of it.

“Which room?” she asked.

“The study. Just follow the trail of uniforms,” the officer said.

Maggie did exactly that and wound through large, elegantly decorated rooms until she found the study. The police photographer was still working, and Maggie stayed in the doorway. She could see the victim on the carpet. He was wearing a white terry robe that reminded Maggie of the ones passed out in posh health clubs.

“How much longer will you be in here, Jack?” she asked.

The photographer looked her way. “I’m done. You and whoever else works this case are going to have so many shots of this place…and of the victim…that you’ll despise me.”

“I doubt that.” Jack began gathering his equipment. “Could you hang around for another thirty or so minutes?” she asked him. “I need photographs of the carpet under the body, but it can’t be moved until I do some prelim work.”

“Guess so. I’ll be down in the lobby. Here’s my cell number,” he said, handing her his card. “Just give me a ring and I’ll come back up, but I don’t want to wait in here. After twenty years on the job, I still can’t take the smell of a murder scene.”

“Seen anything of Detective Benton?” she asked, making sure not to sound as though she gave a damn.

“Yeah, he’s around. I saw him last in the master bedroom. Well, like I said, I don’t like murder scenes. Call down when you’re ready for me.”

Maggie nodded and then frowned over Jack’s second reference to a “murder scene,” which this probably was, even though she hadn’t yet found proof of that. Someone thought it was, however. Criminalists were not called out for heart attack victims.

Knowing nothing of Josh’s methods of investigation-maybe he always checked every room of a crime scene domicile before he did anything else-Maggie walked closer to the body and spotted the blood under the head. It wasn’t a huge puddle, which pretty much ruled out an arterial wound. There were also spots of blood on the white robe, about six or seven of them. Mr. Gardner’s legs were bare and a white slipper hung on his right foot while the other slipper resided about a yard from his left foot.

Setting down her bag, Maggie opened it and took out a fresh pair of latex gloves, which she pulled onto her hands. She laid some white paper on the carpet next to Franklin Gardner’s body and used it to kneel on.

The victim’s eyes were open-blank and staring. He appeared lifeless but Maggie checked for a pulse anyway. Finding none, she reached into the bag again for the little recorder she used at crime scenes and attached the microphone so she could record with her hands free. After switching it on, she began speaking. “Victim has been identified by housekeeper Miriam Hobart as Franklin Gardner. No family verification at this point. Victim is male, Caucasian, approximately fifty years of age and appears physically fit. Victim has blue eyes, black hair and darkly tanned skin. No physical exam yet, but there are…” Maggie stopped to count, “seven spots of blood on the front of his robe in the chest area. I’m now going to open the robe.”

She was just beginning to untie the knotted sash that kept the robe closed when she heard Josh Benton’s voice in the doorway.

“So how’s it going?” he asked, and walked over to her and the victim.

Maggie gulped and turned off the recorder. She lifted her face and looked at Detective Benton. “I’m really just getting started.”

Detective Josh Benton’s gray eyes rested on the face of the woman examining the dead body of the man lying on the carpet, dropped to her photo ID and then returned to her face. He could hardly believe his own eyes.

“My God, Maggie Sutter! What are you doing here? Wait, erase that. It’s obvious what you’re doing here, but how come…I mean, how long…how come you never contacted me and let me know you were in the department?”

Maggie felt her face get warm. “We passed each other once in a hallway and you…you didn’t recognize me.”

“Well, hell, why didn’t you yell at me, or trip me, or something?” Josh kept looking at her, seeing small differences between the Maggie Sutter he’d known years ago and the extremely attractive woman she was today.

“I could hardly do that,” Maggie murmured, almost feverish from the thorough inspection she was getting.

“Didn’t your hair used to be redder?”

“It got darker over the years.”

“So, is Tim still living in California?”

His question about Maggie’s older brother startled her. They had a corpse on their hands-a suspected homicide victim-and Benton was choosing this morning to talk about her family? No way, she thought, and ignored the question completely.

“I was just beginning a prelim on the victim,” she repeated flatly. “Shall I continue or do you want to take over?” She would accede to his wishes. He was her superior in the department, if not her boss. And, of course, for this case he would be her boss. It grated that he wasn’t even embarrassed about not recognizing her that day. Obviously he’d been a more sensitive person ten years ago when he and Tim had been best friends.

“Go ahead with what you were doing. I want to take a look around the room. It hasn’t yet been dusted for prints, so everyone needs to be extremely cautious about touching anything without gloves.” He glanced at her hands. “I see you’re up to speed.”

Maggie lowered her eyes and wondered cynically if he even trusted her to investigate a crime scene at all. To be honest, he just barely resembled the earnest young cop he’d been when she’d had that painful crush on him ten years ago. Not in looks. He was still outrageously handsome, maybe even better looking, but that was about it. Back then she had seen him as the most wonderful, the handsomest, greatest guy ever born. She remembered him as being kind and sweet and nice to everyone. Obviously her opinion had been severely distorted by teenage idol worship.

Wearing latex gloves, Josh strolled around the room peering at various objects while keeping an eye on Maggie. He still could hardly believe that she was here, at a crime scene and working on his team. It just seemed so off-the-wall to him. When, exactly, had she become interested in investigative law enforcement?

Maggie opened Gardner ’s robe and talked into the miniature microphone near her mouth about the wounds on his chest.

“Seven small…very small puncture wounds. An ice pick perhaps. Do people still use ice picks in their homes, considering the variety of ice-makers on the market? Note. Check the bar.”

Josh heard her and walked over to the elegantly carved wood bar with its six leather-covered stools, went behind it and took a rather admiring inventory of the many bottles of expensive liquor that were displayed on lighted shelves. He located a built-in refrigerator, another one strictly for bottles of wine and also a large automatic ice-maker. He was about to give up on Maggie’s ice pick theory-at least for the moment-when he opened a door and saw a collection of antique ice picks in a glass case. Each one was held in place by a small leather strap, and there were no empty spaces, no empty straps.

Maggie was examining the back of the victim’s head, which bore a serious scalp depression and possible skull split that had to be the cause of the blood on the carpet.

She looked over to Benton who asked dryly, “Was he killed twice?”

Maggie gasped. “What?”

Josh could tell that he’d shocked her. “Maggie, when you’ve done this for twelve years, like I have, that soft heart of yours will be considerably harder.”

“I hope not,” she said passionately. “I’m done with my prelim. Do you want to check the body before I call down to the lobby for the photographer? I’d like some photos of the carpet under the body.”

“Yes, I want a look at him.”

Maggie got to her feet and Josh took her place. He looked at the victim’s hands and fingernails. “Good manicure,” he remarked. Then he checked the man’s feet, legs and groin area. “He has some bruising…rather odd shapes…on his face. Also some signs of struggle, defensive bruises, on his forearms and hands. The medical examiner will have to determine cause of death in an autopsy, ’cause from where I sit, it could have been caused by the chest wounds or the crushing blow to his head when he fell and hit that coffee table.”

“What?” Maggie easily found the culprit table and flushed to the roots of her hair. She should have seen the blood on the corner of that table the minute she entered the study. Benton hadn’t missed it and she had. Damn! Was she so discombobulated over working with him that her brain wasn’t functioning with its usual efficiency?

Josh got up. “Call down for Jack and also the fingerprint team. I want everything in this room dusted for prints, especially the bar area. Also, there’s a collection of antique ice picks in a special cabinet behind the bar. I want them individually bagged and tested for evidence. You can handle that at the crime lab. You stay with the body until I say it’s ready for the morgue. I’ve checked out most of the apartment, and I’m going to finish that before leaving.”

Maggie tried to hide the humiliation she felt over missing something so obvious as blood on the sharp corner of that coffee table. She lifted her chin and said, “I would estimate his death to have occurred around four hours ago. Do you agree?”

“Agreed,” Josh stated and strode from the room.

Maggie dug out her cell phone and dialed Jack’s number. “I’m ready for those photos, Jack. And if the lab people are down there to do the prints, ask them to come up with you. Orders from Benton.”

“Will do.”

The body had been taken away and most of the police officers had gone. The sun was up, weak and pale, not even warming the area enough to create fog. Maggie stood at a wall of windows in a gorgeous sitting room and looked out at an incredible view of Lake Michigan. Her own body ached; she hadn’t slept enough and she had a full day of work ahead of her.

She was so tired she didn’t even hear Josh enter the room until he spoke.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Josh asked, making Maggie jump because she hadn’t heard him behind her. “There’s a little place a few blocks from here that serves mighty fine coffee and a good breakfast, as well, if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not a bit hungry, but I could definitely use some coffee. We’re not through here, though, are we? Shouldn’t one of us talk to the housekeeper?”

“I’m not sure who’s going to handle interviews yet, but don’t worry, the housekeeper’s not going anywhere. Neither are the other residents of this building. We’ll get around to each and every one of them, but we still need to have that coffee. Let’s go.”

“Let me get my things,” Maggie said.

The Coffeehouse Café was small and trendy. Josh and Maggie found an empty table and sat down. Josh mentioned breakfast again, but Maggie told him she wasn’t ready to eat, which she wasn’t. When hot, delicious-smelling coffee was brought to their table, though, she reached for her cup immediately.

“You’re right,” she said after a satisfying sip. “This is terrific coffee.”

Josh had ordered some bacon and toast, and he ate as well as enjoyed his coffee. He sent Maggie a glance. “Spend enough time with me and you’ll find out that I’m right most of the time.”

“Oh, really? When did that metamorphosis come about? I don’t recall your being Mr. Perfect when you and Tim hung together.” It was a lie. In those days she’d thought of him as nothing but perfect.

“You didn’t? Hmm. That surprises me. How is ol’ Tim doing these days?”

“Ol’ Tim is doing great. You do know he got married, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

“Well, he also has two little boys. Did you know that?”

“No. Two sons, huh? Got any pictures of them?”

“Not with me.”

“So, how’d you end up like me instead of like Tim? He’s still into computers, I suppose.”

Maggie arched her eyebrows. “Yes, he is, and doing extremely well financially. But I don’t see any similarities between you and me, other than both of us being cops.”

“I was a cop when you were still in kindergarten.”

“Hardly. You’re only ten years older than I am. I’m twenty-six. And the two of us being cops doesn’t make us think and act alike.”

“Do I detect disapproval in your voice?”

“Well, you’re certainly not right all the damned time. No one is.”

“Hey, I said most of the time, and I was only kidding anyway. Can’t you take a joke anymore? If I remember right, you used to laugh at jokes.”

“The last time we talked I was sixteen and naive. I’m neither of those now.”

Josh had finished eating. Holding his cup with both hands, his elbows on the table, he gave her a long look. “You’re all grown up, I can’t deny that.”

Was that admiration and lechery in his stunning gray eyes? Maggie wondered. A shiver went up her spine. He was even more handsome now than he’d been when she’d suffered that torturous crush. And he’d treated her like a kid, never once suspecting that he was the star player in all of her teenage fantasies.

Well, wouldn’t he have a laugh if she suddenly blurted that she was no more experienced with men now than she’d been ten years ago? She wasn’t overly proud of being a virgin at her age, but she had never met a guy who had affected her in a sexual way. Of course, she’d had her nose stuck in a book almost constantly in college, and since graduation she had worked darned hard to get where she was in the Chicago Police Department.

But Josh affected her. He had when she was a teenager and he possessed the same powerful magnetism today. She felt all sorts of things just from looking at him, from having him look at her, and the last thing she wanted was a quickie affair with the only man she might have grown up to love, given half a chance.

“Maybe we should talk about the case,” she said.

Josh’s lips turned up in a knowing little half grin. She was pretty and she was also sharp enough to know how to keep a hot-blooded predator at arm’s length. Besides, she was Tim’s sister, and Maggie might not know it, but that meant something to Josh. He might kid around with Maggie Sutter, but that was as far as it would ever go for him.

“There’s very little to talk about at this point,” he said. “You know the drill…the autopsy and medical examiner’s report on cause of death…the endless interviews…the lab reports…and on and on.”

“Okay, fine. You’re giving the orders, so I’d like to hear mine.”

“You’ve got bags of possible evidence to examine and test. Spend the day at the crime lab. As for me, I intend to talk to the M.E. The question hounding me is what came first, the stab wounds or the blow to his head. I think that’s going to be a key issue in this case.”

Maggie was impressed with Josh’s logic, which sort of saddened her because he seemed to see things more clearly than she did. His years of experience undoubtedly accounted for such acuity, but she couldn’t help envying it.

“All right,” she agreed. “Drop me off at the Gardner building so I can pick up my car. Would you like me to contact you any time today?”

“If you find anything I should know about, yes.” Josh reached into his inside coat pocket and brought out a business card. “All my phone numbers are on that.”

Maggie handed him her card. “In case you need to talk to me,” she said.

“Good. We’re in sync.”

Much more than you could ever imagine. Maggie hated thinking those words and surely her expression or voice gave no clues to her thoughts, but Josh’s good looks, his intelligence and macho maleness were again burrowing under her skin and setting up residence in the vicinity of her heart. She would have to be careful around him or he would catch on, and if he ever realized that he had the upper hand where her emotions were concerned, there was no predicting what might happen.

Or maybe there was. Maggie’s stomach sank clear to her toes, but she rose and left the café with Josh as though he meant no more to her than any other cop she had worked with.

It was scary that he did…already…after only one time together.

Chapter 2

O ne of the jobs of a criminalist was to reconstruct the crime under investigation. Sketches of the murder scene, photographs and physical evidence all came into play. Maggie thought about the process while analyzing and testing the samples of everything from carpet fibers to fingernail scrapings that she had taken from Franklin Gardner’s study. As always, she was careful to keep very close tabs on even the smallest item, as it just might prove invaluable in bringing a killer to justice.

Around two that afternoon the growling of Maggie’s stomach was a strong reminder that she hadn’t eaten since last night. But because she wanted to finish her tests so she could log the evidence before leaving the premises, she settled for an energy bar from a vending machine. It helped, and by seven that evening she had completed everything that could be completed in one day, and then carried it all to the evidence room.

“Each bag is tagged,” she told the person in charge, even though nothing that wasn’t tagged could be logged in. “I’ll be picking up several of the bags during the next few days for further testing.” Maggie was mostly referring to Franklin Gardner’s collection of ice picks. They were suspiciously lacking in fingerprints-possibly wiped clean by Franklin ’s attacker-and two had trace amounts of blood. She needed more time on them.

She was walking out to her car when it dawned on her that Josh Benton hadn’t called. Feeling slighted personally was one thing, but professionally? No way, she thought. Her work today had accomplished a great deal, and she fully intended on staying right in the middle of this investigation. Instead of going home, she drove to the Detective Bureau, parked her car and walked in. Sometimes the place was pure bedlam. This evening, it was merely busy.

Maggie collected her written messages on her way past the duty officer, gave them a quick look and saw nothing that couldn’t wait, then proceeded to the desk she had been assigned two months ago. It was in a room crammed with file cabinets and about twenty other desks. The only items on hers were a telephone and a silent, blank-faced computer.

Passing up her desk, Maggie went in search of Detective Benton. His desk, she had discovered, was in a different room, one that was divided into tiny cubicles. It wasn’t the Ritz, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was something Maggie aspired to herself one day. It wouldn’t happen for years, she knew, but it gave her pleasure to think of that far-off event.

The door of Josh’s private space was open. Maggie peered in and saw Josh talking on the phone. He saw her, as well, and waved her in. She chose a chair and waited for him to finish.

He finally did, and while putting down the phone he asked her, “How’d it go at the lab?”

“Routinely,” she replied. She laid some papers on his desk. “Reports of my preliminary exam of the victim in situ. I haven’t finished with the ice picks, but there are no prints on them, not even a smudge. Wiped clean would be my guess, but two of them show trace amounts of blood. Type O-positive on one, animal blood on the other. Another guess is that that one was used to pry frozen steaks apart, or some kind of meat. If it becomes important, I can, of course, run further tests and identify the specie of animal. As for the other, do we know Franklin Gardner’s blood type?”

“O-positive,” Josh said calmly.

Maggie’s gaze locked with Josh’s. “Then that ice pick could be the murder weapon.”

“Could be,” Josh concurred. “On first look, the M.E. agreed that cause of death could be the head wound, the chest wounds or both, which we already surmised. But we won’t know anything for sure until we get his autopsy report, which he hasn’t yet faxed over. I asked for a rush job, but you know how that goes.”

“Did you mention the media interest in the case?”

“Pulled every string I could. But our most recent murder victim isn’t the only one in Chicago whose name makes the general population genuflect,” Josh said dryly. “Anyhow, the report could come in anytime.”

“How about fingerprint analysis of the apartment? Those guys lifted dozens of specimens from doorways, tables, the bar and on and on. Do we have anything in writing from that direction yet?”

“No. They said they would have some results by tomorrow. I was told that two captains drove out to the Gardner mansion to inform Franklin ’s mother of his death.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Captains? I thought you would go, so you could see her reaction. Were you told how she took the news?”

“Are you thinking that Franklin ’s mother might have something to do with his premature demise?”

“Don’t look so skeptical. Anything’s possible. Everyone Franklin knew is a suspect until we know otherwise. There was no sign of forced entry into either the building, the private elevator or the penthouse. Franklin admitted his killer himself, so it had to be someone he knew…or hoped to know. What about his love life? Did he have a girlfriend…or more than one? Maybe the reason he was killed twice, as you so delicately put it earlier today, was because it was a crime of passion. You know, where the killer is so emotionally wound up that he or she doesn’t know when to quit.”

“You have a good imagination.”

“Can’t be an investigative cop without one.”

“It helps…but it can also hinder. We do our best work with provable facts.”

“When they’re available, yes, but when they’re not we had better be able to connect the dots…or the circumstantial evidence…all on our own. How about the housekeeper? Did anyone interrogate her yet, and is she being permitted to stay at the apartment? Nothing should be disturbed…or cleaned…in that place.”

“Really?” Josh drawled. “Gosh, I didn’t know that.”

Maggie’s face reddened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to patronize. But what did you do with Miriam Hobart?”

“Threw her into the deepest, darkest dungeon in Chicago. What else would I do with the housekeeper of a murder victim?”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“You’re way too serious, Maggie. Lighten up.”

Maggie got to her feet. “I don’t think it’s possible to be ‘too serious’ about a homicide. I’m going home.”

Josh rose. “How about us eating dinner together first?”

Maggie’s pulse quickened, although the way she looked couldn’t possibly be sparking any foolish ideas in Josh Benton’s head. She’d gotten up in the middle of last night and come to work without a speck of makeup on her face and barely a hairdo. Even so, she looked worse now than she had then, because the wear and tear of the day had to show on her face.

“Sorry, but if you’re through with me, I’d like to go home.”

“I’m not through with you, Maggie,” Josh said quietly. “Don’t even think it.”

His tone of voice threw Maggie much more than the words he’d said. Odder still was the strange look on his face, as though he hadn’t meant to sound like the big bad hunter after the little red fox. But surprised or not, they both knew exactly how he had sounded, and Maggie narrowed her eyes at him while he proceeded to put on a tough, almost belligerent expression. It was, Maggie decided, an I-dare-you-to-make-something-out-of-it expression. A cop’s expression, distant and challenging.

She was too tired to take on another challenge today, not even a personal one that she would have loved to pursue at various times during the past ten years.

Deciding to ignore the sexual innuendo she’d just heard in his voice-for the time being, at least-she spoke rather coolly. “If there’s anything else we should discuss this evening, I will, of course, sit down again. If not…?”

Josh wondered what in hell had come over him. This was Maggie, Tim’s kid sister.

“Yeah, go on home. There’s nothing more we have to do tonight. Unless you’re handling other cases that need attention.”

“I have several in process, but I’m up to speed on them. They’re not nearly as urgent as the Gardner homicide, anyway. Well, if that’s it for the day, I’ll say good-night.”

“Oh, there is one thing. Have you worked with Colin Waters?”

Maggie had started to leave, but she turned at the door, wearily leaned her shoulder against the frame and shook her head. “No, but I know who he is. Why?”

“I’ve brought him in on the case. Orders from the powers-that-be are to get this one done fast. Colin is one of the best investigators we have. I talked to him earlier today, and he and his partner, Darien Wilson, are already working on it. Just thought you should know the latest. I’m sure they’ll be glad to read your prelim report.”

“Fine. Do you want me to check in here in the morning, or should I go directly to the lab?”

“Check in here first. Whether I’m here or not, take a look at the Gardner file, just in case some new report has come in.”

“I should be adding several more reports to the file tomorrow. Okay, is that it?”

“That’s it. See you tomorrow.”

“If you’re here,” Maggie reminded him.

Without another word, Maggie left Josh’s office.

With Maggie gone, Josh let himself dwell on her. Something about her had gotten under his skin. True, he’d been without female companionship for a while, a good six months, actually, since he and Tasha, a model he had dated for over a year, had called it quits. But he hadn’t noticed any unusual suffering because of a lack of regular sex. In fact, he realized with a frown that he really hadn’t been thinking of sex at all since Tasha. And it wasn’t because attractive women were scarce. He simply hadn’t wanted any sort of relationship with a woman. With a wry twist of his lips, Josh wondered if he was getting old.

But he was thinking of relationships now, wasn’t he? All because of seeing Maggie Sutter again, who should represent nothing beyond some fine old memories. Ten years ago he and Tim Sutter had been good friends, and often when Josh had dropped in on Tim, there would be Maggie, cute as any teenage girl could ever be, sassy, giggly and looking at him with her gorgeous violet-blue eyes.

She didn’t look at him in the same way now, Josh thought with a bit of a wince. In fact, if there was any expression at all in her eyes when she looked at him, it was cool disdain. Was that because he hadn’t shown recognition during the accidental meeting that she claimed had occurred between them? He’d been startled as hell to see her as a cop and on duty smack-dab in the middle of his arena, to be exact, and he still wasn’t sure he liked it, particularly since she was making him think some pretty off-the-wall thoughts. And her being Tim’s sister somehow made her seem to be off-limits.

Josh had lost track of Tim, but Tim had done the same with him. They lived different lives, Tim in California with his computers, his wife and kids, and he, Josh, sticking close to home, never even considering marriage or leaving Chicago, working hard and advancing in the police department. In truth, he and Tim couldn’t be more different from each other, they always had been, but still, during their twenties, they had hit it off.

Josh sighed quietly. If Tim had stayed in the Chicago area, they’d probably still be friends. In the next heartbeat another thought, a question, gave Josh a start. What about Tim and Maggie’s mother? Josh remembered Lottie Sutter almost as well as he did her kids. Was Lottie alive and thriving? He hoped she was. They used to have some really good discussions.

He sat there for another ten minutes thinking about the Sutter family, then, rather abruptly, the long day got the better of him and he realized that he was almost too tired to get out of his chair and go home. But if he didn’t do it soon he would probably fall asleep right where he sat.

He forced himself to his feet-for the last time that day, he hoped.

Maggie slept like the dead that night. Her alarm clock jarred her awake at 6:00 a.m., and she shoved aside the covers and walked to the shower with her eyes only half-open. The shower finished what the buzzing of the clock’s alarm had started-got her brain and body functioning on normal. She turned on the TV in her bedroom to catch the weather report and made a face when she heard it. “High today of thirty-five degrees and snow flurries by late afternoon. Current temperature is twenty-six degrees.”

“Great,” Maggie muttered, wishing her life away by wishing for spring and some decent weather. Almost every winter was the same. By March she was so ready for sunshine and warmth that she fantasized herself living in a southern state, where the sun shone brightly nearly every day of the year. She could always find a job in law enforcement, couldn’t she? With her education and training? Of course she could.

The television program went from the weather report to local news stories. Maggie only partially listened until she heard, “Franklin Gardner, international businessman and lifelong resident of Chicago, was found dead in his penthouse apartment early yesterday morning. Police are investigating his death as a possible homicide.”

The “possible homicide” comment surprised Maggie, because had Franklin Gardner’s entire family been notified already? Occasionally the cart got out before the horse in breaking newscasts, but surely Benton was controlling all information passed to the media.

Maggie told herself to stay out of that part of the investigation. Josh hadn’t gotten where he was in the department by talking out of turn. He knew the rules, probably better than she did.

This morning Maggie put on a little makeup and didn’t even try to kid herself that it wasn’t because of Josh Benton. Dressed in charcoal, almost-black wool slacks and turtleneck sweater, she bundled herself into her heavy outside jacket, scarf and gloves and left her apartment.

Entering the garage was like bucking a wave of Arctic air. Her breath fogged in front of her face and she thought about how great it would be if the garage were heated. Of course, when she found this apartment, she’d been thrilled it had a parking garage and she could still afford the rent!

Mumbling to herself that living through scorching Arizona summers was probably just as bad as freezing Illinois temperatures in March, Maggie hurried to her car, unlocked it and got in.

She inserted the key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. Startled, she did it again and again. Nothing happened. Her car was dead. Groaning, she put her head on the steering wheel.

But it was too cold to sit there and feel sorry for herself for long. Raising her head, she got out her cell phone and the card Josh had given her yesterday. She dialed his cell number. He answered on the second ring with a gruff-sounding “Detective Benton.”

“This is Maggie. My car is dead. I’m going to call a mechanic, and there’s no telling how long that will take. Obviously I’m going to be coming in late. Thought you should know.”

“Where do you live?”

“Pardon?”

“Give me your address. Maybe it’s just your battery. If it is, I’ll give you a jump.”

“You’re going to fix my car?”

“Don’t sound so doubtful. I know a few things about cars, and I’ve got a set of jumper cables. Unless you’d rather call that expensive mechanic than let me take a look at it.”

“Um, no…no, of course not.” Maggie reluctantly recited her address. “But I hate imposing on your time.”

“If I felt it was an imposition, I wouldn’t have offered to help out.”

“Well…all right. It’s freezing in this garage so I’ll be waiting in my apartment. Just ring my bell.”

Josh cleared his throat and squelched an impulse to tell her that he’d love to ring her bell. In fact, she just might love having her bell rung by him.

“I should be there in twenty minutes,” he stated, without innuendo.

“Um…thank you.” Maggie hit the button to break the call and stuffed the phone back into her bag. She tried the ignition again, got no response at all from the wayward engine, then shook her head disgustedly and got out. She locked the car and headed for the elevator, cursing under her breath.

Damn it, why hadn’t he just let her call for a mechanic and be done with it? Or better still, when he’d made his intrusive offer of assistance, why hadn’t she thought fast, refused with thanks, and told him she had already called for a mechanic?

Inside her apartment she yanked off her gloves and jacket and then ran around like a wild woman, frantically picking up things, such as the slippers she’d left by the sofa several nights back, and the Sunday newspapers that were still strewn across her little kitchen table three days later. She grabbed a stack of junk mail that she’d been intending to toss for days and dropped it in the trash can, and put the dirty dishes stacked in the sink into the apartment-size dishwasher she’d been almost as glad to see as the garage when she’d rented the place.

She suddenly needed coffee, and she put on a pot to brew. Hurrying to her bedroom, she made the bed and then ran into the bathroom to straighten things up in there, just in case Josh should ask to use it. She was horribly nervous and couldn’t seem to calm her racing pulse, however many times she reminded herself that she had outgrown Josh Benton years and years ago.

Of course, if that was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, would she be nervous at all?

Maggie was on her second cup of coffee when the building’s front door buzzer went off. She set her cup on the counter, went to her apartment’s front door and pushed a button. “Yes?”

“It’s me. Buzz me in.”

Maggie complied and then opened the door to watch for Josh to step out of the elevator down the hall. As usual, it seemed an eternity for the hydraulic lift to make its snail-like way from the first floor to the fourth, but finally Maggie heard it grind to a shuddering stop. The doors slowly opened and Josh began walking toward her.

“I should have taken the stairs. It would’ve been faster.”

“Which is what I usually do. The only time I use the elevator is when I’m loaded down with groceries, or something else. Come on in.”

Josh followed her in. “This building has a garage in the basement?”

“Yes. I’ll get my jacket.”

“Not so fast. Do I smell fresh coffee?”

“Uh…yes. Would you like some?”

“Sure would. I was going to stop at a coffeehouse, but then you called and I figured I’d better get over here right away.”

Maggie led him to the kitchen and proceeded to fill a mug for him. “That’s what I do on most mornings, stop somewhere for a large coffee to go.” She handed the mug to Josh who took it and then set it on the table.

“I’m going to take my jacket off, sit down and enjoy this, if you don’t mind. The first cup of the day always tastes best to me. Come and join me at the table.”

“In a minute. You go ahead and sit down. And I don’t mind if you enjoy your first cup of the day,” she murmured, a lie if she’d ever told one. She minded everything that was happening, minded him being there at all, minded that he’d had the nerve to ask for coffee and that he’d been nice enough to offer to jump her car-if that was all it needed. But mostly she minded his astonishing good looks, which seemed a hundred times more striking this morning than they had yesterday. Her stupid stomach was doing somersaults just from looking at him.

And he seemed so at home! Not at all uncomfortable or bashful or anything else that she could detect and read as a negative reaction to being alone in her apartment with her.

Maggie’s thoughts turned cynical. Josh Benton was probably so used to drinking morning coffee in women’s apartments, undoubtedly after spending the night, that why on earth would this perfectly innocent situation with her make him feel uneasy?

Well, he might be just fine with this…this togetherness, but she was not. “I have my car keys right here,” Maggie said, holding them up so he could see.

Josh grinned. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

“Of course not! Take your time. I’ll finish my own coffee.” To prove that her second lie was the unmitigated truth, Maggie took her cup to the table and sat across from him. “Were you at the Bureau when I called your cell?” she asked in an effort to keep any conversation between them on business.

“On my way.” Josh got up, refilled his mug and resumed his seat. He took a sip and looked as satisfied as a frog in a rainfall. “I’m coming alive,” he said. “I do love my coffee. I hope I never have to give it up. You probably don’t even remember when almost everyone smoked, but I sure do. Went through hell quitting that habit, mostly because I enjoyed it so much. But it was getting so you couldn’t find a building that permitted smoking, and standing outside in this kind of weather to light up got very old, very fast.”

“I never did smoke, so I know very little about the trauma of quitting. I’ve heard horror stories about it, though.”

“Believe every one of them.” Josh locked his gaze with Maggie’s. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else with eyes the color of yours.”

Maggie felt her face get warm. He had switched gears so fast he’d caught her off guard. “I…I’m sure the color is not unique,” she stammered.

“It’s very unique, and you’re very beautiful.” Josh hadn’t intended to say any of those things, and he was even more startled by them than Maggie was. But she was beautiful this morning, and maybe she’d been beautiful yesterday, as well, and he’d been too wrapped up in the Gardner case to see her clearly.

Maggie felt as stiff as a board-a board with red cheeks. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” she said, her voice sounding thin and shaky. “We have to work together, and…and…”

Josh got to his feet and walked around the table to her. Tipping her chin with his forefinger he said softly, “And what, Maggie?”

She didn’t move away from him, she couldn’t. And when she saw his face coming closer to hers, she knew he was going to kiss her.

She parted her lips and sucked in a soft breath.

Breathless seconds passed in slow motion for Maggie. Fragmented thoughts drifted through her mind. I know this man…it’s not as though he’s a stranger. I want to feel his kiss…his lips on mine. Have I waited all this time for Josh Benton to reenter my life?

His scent seemed more familiar than her own. His body emanated exciting warmth. She felt things deep inside of her that were brand-new but instinctively recognizable.

But…why was he hesitating?

The answer to that question seemed written in neon in Josh’s brain, and finally he muttered a curse and finished his remark of self-disgusted recrimination with, “What the hell am I doing?” He stepped away from Maggie and plucked the keys from her hand so quickly that she reeled. “Come on,” he growled. “Take me to your car.”

His abrupt change of heart was like a physical blow for Maggie. She had to battle both fury and tears, for she believed that showing either side of the pain he’d just caused her would make her look immature and foolish. And she would die before knowingly appearing as anything but strong and uncaring in front of Josh.

Chapter 3

Putting on her most indifferent expression, Maggie said a cold “Excuse me” and went around him to leave the kitchen ahead of him. Pulling on her warm clothing again, she led him from the apartment. In the hall she took a second to make sure the door was locked, then again took the lead. “We’ll use the stairs,” she said without inflection.

And with every step down to the basement garage, she asked herself why Josh had been so eager to kiss her one second and then so angry with himself…or with her…in practically the next. Only one possibility made complete and utter sense: he was involved with someone else.

Maggie nearly lost the control she’d been using on her emotions over that conclusion, and anger began eating holes in her hard-eyed composure. Another woman-he was in love and committed-and he’d dared to lead her on! To make her think that something was beginning to coalesce, to happen for them. In that instant she hated the man he was now-the great Detective Benton-and even the handsome, outgoing, hopeful young cop he’d been when she’d known him before.

Once in the frigid basement, she handed him the keys. “My car’s over there, the dark green sedan.”

The tone of her voice said it all for Josh. He’d started something he shouldn’t have, and she resented him now as only a woman perceiving herself scorned could resent a man. God help him, he thought, he hadn’t meant to make Maggie feel scorned, or anything else, for that matter.

“Uh, maybe we should talk about it,” he said without quite meeting her eyes. Damn it, he should have insisted on talking about it upstairs the minute he’d backed off.

Maggie’s eyes flashed pure fire at him. “There’s nothing to talk about. Are you going to try starting my car, or have you changed your mind about that, too?”

Josh knew when to quit. Forcing an issue with a furious woman not only wasn’t smart; it might reasonably be classified as temporary insanity.

He walked away from her without another word, heading for her car.

Maggie worked at the lab all day, going as far with the ice picks as she could without specific instructions to cover the investigative spectrum with them, which would have included DNA analysis. DNA testing would have been imperative if any genetic material had shown up at the murder scene from a second person, ostensibly the killer. Since there was nothing except Franklin Gardner’s own blood, there was no reason to analyze his DNA. Not yet, at any rate.

Maggie’s stack of written reports grew as the morning passed. Around two, she made copies of everything to take with her for the case file, delivered the originals to the clerical department for permanent recording, then gathered her belongings and drove to the Detective Bureau.

The second she walked in someone drawled, “Heard you had car trouble this morning.”

“My, how news does travel around here,” Maggie said wryly. “It was no big deal, just a dead battery. Everything’s fine now.”

“Well, I heard that Benton raced to your rescue.”

Maggie caught the teasing twinkle in the other officer’s eyes. Personal relationships weren’t encouraged between cops, but they happened, and when they did the gossip, the innuendo and the comical remarks-not all of them clean-went on until either the relationship fizzled out or it became old news and everyone got bored with it.

Maggie raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes. “D’ya think he’s on the verge of popping the question? A guy fixing a girl’s car is pretty serious stuff.”

The detective walked off laughing, relieving most of Maggie’s concern about a perfectly innocent incident feeding the gossip mill. True, the morning might not have turned out so innocently if Benton had followed through with that kiss, but he hadn’t and that was the end of it.

At least that was what she’d been telling herself all day. It began and ended all in a matter of thirty seconds, so for God’s sake stop making a big deal out of it. Romance is a lost art, and if you’re naive enough to think that an incomplete pass pertains to anything but a football play, you are living in the dark ages, my girl!

It was sound advice but impossible to accept as the final word on this morning’s episode. Just thinking of it again stirred Maggie’s ire, and she slapped her copies of the lab reports down on her desk, shed her heavy coat and hung it on a nearby hook, all with a sour expression on her face. After shoving her gloves and scarf into her backpack, then leaving everything behind that she’d brought in with her, she went to the New Case file cabinet to get the Gardner file.

It wasn’t there. Obviously one of the other detectives on the case was using it. If it was Josh…?

Frowning, Maggie returned to her desk and sat down. Avoiding Josh for any length of time was impossible, but she wished it weren’t. In fact, she wished she never had to look into those gray eyes of his ever again. He’d humiliated her, not by making his desire to kiss her so obvious, but because he’d changed his mind while looking directly into her ridiculously love-struck eyes. Well, maybe not love, but certainly he must have sensed her weak-kneed acquiescence and anticipation of the big event. Damn him, would she ever live it down?

Sighing because she would rather be laughing than crying-if only to herself-she began thumbing through the reports in front of her. She knew them by heart, but it was something to do until she figured out a way to get hold of the Gardner case file without running into Benton.

Maggie narrowed her eyes in thought. Maybe Colin Waters had it. Actually anyone in the building with an investigative interest in the homicide could be looking through it.

If Maggie had lifted her gaze just a little, and then looked to the left, she would have seen Detective Benton watching her. Josh had called the crime lab, learned that Maggie had left for the day and then taken the case file and headed for the squad room and her assigned desk.

But upon entering the room and seeing her so intently studying the papers in front of her, obviously concentrating so deeply that she heard none of the noise around her, he had stopped dead in his tracks. He should not have made that move this morning, but he couldn’t help wishing that he’d taken it to its logical conclusion. All day he had paid the ultimate price for behaving like a gentleman instead of the horny toad Maggie had turned him into. She drew him irresistibly, and he ached now just from looking at her. It was a shock of huge proportions; never could he have imagined himself getting all hot and bothered over Tim’s kid sister.

Muttering under his breath, he began moving again, walking over to Maggie’s desk. “You might want to see this,” he said gruffly, and laid the case file near her right hand.

Maggie saw that it was the Gardner case file. “Yes, thank you,” she said coolly, although it was a miracle that the sudden flash of heat all but melting her vital organs didn’t show in her voice. She realized with a heavy heart that this could not go on. Her career was at stake, as well as her peace of mind. There had to be a way to bring this unbearable tension between her and Josh to a head and then quash it forever.

“I have these to add to the file,” she said, indicating the reports in front of her.

“Did you run across anything unusual?”

“Actually, no. Whoever killed Franklin Gardner left no part of himself behind. He…or she…is either very lucky or very smart about forensic procedures.”

“Yes, well, that happens. Take a look at the file and if you want to talk afterward, I’ll be around.” Abruptly, Josh turned and left.

Maggie watched him go, but instead of hating him as she had believed to be the case earlier that day, she felt so much yearning that tears pricked her eyes. Heaving a sigh of despair-what in heaven’s name had she done that was so terrible she deserved to fall for a guy who had the ability to look right through her?-she reached for the case file and opened it.

The first thing she saw was the autopsy report and she quickly read that Franklin Gardner had died from a blow to the back of his skull. The ice pick wasn’t meaningless, but it had not been the cause of Gardner ’s death!

But why on earth would anyone stab a dead man? Stab him over and over again? Hadn’t Gardner appeared dead? Was it possible that Franklin Gardner had accidentally fallen and hit his head on the corner of the table? Then someone, the person who had been in the study with him, had used what he had thought was merely unconsciousness as an opportunity to stab the life out of the disabled man?

Frowning, Maggie read on: Bruising on victim’s face appears to have been made by something the attacker was wearing, most likely a large ring. My Lord, the poor man was also beaten?

Maggie sat back, contemplating the conflicting information. After a few minutes she checked the other reports in the file. So far Detectives Waters and Wilson had interviewed the housekeeper and the building supervisor. Miriam Hobart merely repeated in her statement what Maggie had already been told. An unknown noise woke her, she got up to check on it and found Mr. Gardner on the floor in the study. Frightened, she rushed back to her room and called 9-1-1.

The super’s statement didn’t offer much more, except for his opinion that Gardner had been an arrogant, unfriendly man, but he also told the detectives that his wife had always despised the penthouse resident. In speaking directly to the wife, the detectives noticed her knitting bag and spotted some long, thin knitting needles in it.

Maggie caught the implication, but her report on the ice pick would inform Waters and Wilson that Gardner was not stabbed by knitting needles.

After inserting her own reports into the file, Maggie sat and speculated. Gardner had been beaten and stabbed. Had the beating come first, then his fall and after that the stabbing? It made a crazy sort of sense. Possibly dazed from being struck in the face, Gardner had fallen-maybe tripped over something-and hit his head on the table. The attacker, not realizing that his victim was already dead, ran to the bar, grabbed an ice pick and returned to Gardner ’s immobile body to repeatedly drive the sharp point of the pick into his chest.

Maggie’s phone rang. Absently she picked it up and said, “Detective Sutter.”

“Hi, got a minute?”

“Natalie, hi. Yes, I can talk. What’s going on?”

“Just thought we might have a burger or pizza together tonight. How about it? Do you have to work late, or can we meet somewhere. I have something to tell you.”

“Bet I can guess what it is,” Maggie said teasingly. From the lilt in her friend’s voice, her news had to be about a new man in her life.

“But don’t guess, okay? I’m dying to tell you all about it. Can we meet around six-thirty?”

“I don’t see why not. Where?”

“Do you want pizza or a burger?”

“Um…pizza. How about meeting at Tony’s?”

“Great. See you at six-thirty.”

After putting down the phone, Maggie checked the time. It was almost five. She had plenty of time to talk to Benton before she drove to Tony’s Pizzeria.

Bracing herself for a face-to-face with Josh, Maggie took the case file and her cell phone-she rarely did anything without it-and went to his private cubicle. He was at his desk, on the phone, and exactly as he’d done the first time Maggie had come to his domain, he waved her in.

She lowered herself onto a chair, then realized to whom Josh was speaking-the head of the Bureau of Detectives! Instantly alert, Maggie didn’t even pretend not to listen.

“It might be just a little too soon, sir,” Josh said. He had swung his chair around so that he was sitting sideways to his desk and looking out a window. It was dark outside, Maggie saw. Early nightfall was another aspect of winter she didn’t enjoy. “Doesn’t the woman understand her son was murdered?” Josh asked into the phone.

And then, “Yes, I realize the importance of closure to a mother, and that Mrs. Gardner would like to hold the funeral right away, but is the M.E. a hundred percent certain the body has no more secrets to tell?”

After a silent minute, Josh said, “All right, fine. But I’m going over to the morgue and have one more look at the deceased before the body is released. When am I going? Right now. Talk to you later.”

He put down the phone, swung his chair around and looked at Maggie. She set the case file on his desk. “Could we discuss…?” she began.

Josh interrupted her by getting to his feet. “Right now I’m going to the morgue for a last look at Gardner ’s body. Maybe you should come along.” He paused a moment, then added, “Yeah, no maybe about it. I want you with me. You might see something I don’t. And we can talk on the way. Go get your coat.”

“But…but…”

Josh stopped moving and frowned at her. “But what?”

“Nothing. I’ll get my coat.” She left in a rush and on the way back to her desk she used her cell phone and dialed Natalie’s number. “Sorry, but I have to cancel,” she said. “Something came up, boss’s orders. Maybe tomorrow night, okay?”

“Oh, darn. All right, we’ll do it tomorrow night.”

“Bye, Nat.”

Bundled up again, she joined Josh in the corridor leading to the parking area. They walked out together without talking. When they were in his car and underway, he said gruffly, as though greatly perturbed, “Mrs. Gardner is pestering the police commissioner for release of her son’s body for burial. I think it’s too soon, but I was just warned that it’s probably going to happen, whatever I think about it.”

“Are you thinking the M.E. missed something? Is that why we’re going to take another look at the body?”

“Sometimes there’s room for differing interpretations of bodily wounds. I don’t doubt the M.E.’s findings. Hell, I don’t know if I doubt anything, but I need to satisfy whatever it is that keeps gnawing at my gut.”

“Oh, you have one of those gut feelings that’s so prolific in detective novels.”

Josh slanted a startled look at her. “You don’t get ’em?”

“Only when I eat chili laced with loads of hot peppers.”

“You’re really pissed off at me, aren’t you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, your frozen face could be a clue.”

He was using sarcasm on her, the jerk? “A frozen face is small potatoes compared to a frozen heart.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, that my heart is frozen? And just how the hell would you know if it was?”

“Clue upon clue upon clue, perhaps?”

“Because I didn’t follow through with that pass this morning? I had my reasons,” Josh said grimly.

“I’m sure you did.”

Josh let her have the last word and drove the rest of the way in silence. Maggie acted unconcerned, as though she couldn’t possibly care less about anything he did or said, when, in actuality, the ache in her chest felt like a mortal wound. This whole thing might mean nothing to him, but it was destroying her professionalism as well as breaking her heart. She had to do something about it.

The question, of course, was what? What on earth could she do to jar Josh Benton as he had jarred her? Was still jarring her!

At the morgue Josh requested a viewing of Franklin Gardner’s body. Ten minutes later he and Maggie were standing on opposite sides of the gurney on which Gardner ’s remains had been delivered from a refrigeration unit to a viewing room. Both Josh and Maggie wore latex gloves.

“He put up a fight,” Josh murmured, concentrating on the blotchy discolored spots on the victim’s arms and hands. “And the facial bruises have an odd pattern.”

“The report mentioned the probability of a large ring worn by the attacker.”

“I would think a diamond, for instance, would have broken the skin…leave cuts instead of impact bruises. Any large gemstone might cut the skin, for that matter.”

Maggie frowned a bit, thinking. “Unless it didn’t protrude above the overall design of the ring.”

“There is a design, isn’t there? Do you see it in the facial bruises?”

Maggie bent over to peer more closely at the facial bruises. “There’s something,” she said slowly. “A pattern of some sort. But I can’t make it out, can you?”

“No. Do you have your camera with you?”

“In my backpack. I’ll get it.” Maggie removed her gloves and tossed them in the appropriate waste receptacle, then went into her backpack, which she had left on the counter near the door. Returning to the gurney with her camera, she asked, “Haven’t we received the photos Jack took at the scene yet?”

“They’re in my office.”

Maggie stiffened. “Why aren’t they in the case file?”

“Because I’ve been studying them, trying to figure out which ones should be in the case file,” Josh snapped. “You can examine them anytime you want. There are far too many to keep them all in the file, and…and didn’t you see my note in the file when you went through it?”

“No, I did not.”

“Well, it’s there. Take some close-ups of those facial bruises.”

Maggie’s camera was hi-tech digital with automatic, immediate development. For more exacting detail, the photos could also be transferred to a computer, and from there the sky was the limit. Enlargements and an array of shadings that brought out various characteristics were often used on data.

Wondering how she could have missed seeing Josh’s note about Jack’s photos, she decided that she had missed nothing in that file. The great Benton might have intended to insert a note, but he hadn’t done it. God, what an ego, she thought. Bring him down a peg? Her? Hardly.

She focused entirely on the facial bruises and the camera clicked, whirred and coughed out instant photos that Josh grabbed and studied. He finally said, “That’s enough. Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” she said icily and walked over to her backpack and put away the camera. Returning to the gurney, however, she couldn’t resist saying, “I doubt that Jack overlooked the facial bruises in his numerous shots of the scene. But I must be wrong in that assumption, since you’ve been studying his photos. Jack would have to be at fault, not you.”

Josh scowled at her for at least a full minute, then snarled, “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Of course, anything you say.” Maggie’s mind whispered the word master, but she couldn’t let herself say it out loud. That would be going too far.

It did tickle her, though, that she’d grated on Josh’s nerves, and she rode back to district headquarters with a little half smile on her face.

Josh thought he saw her smiling when they passed under a bright streetlight, but he squelched the impulse to ask her what was funny and said instead, “It could be a signet ring.”

“What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What did you say?”

“I was referring to the attacker’s ring. It could be a signet ring, one of those huge sports rings or a fraternity ring, or maybe just a college class ring. Some are really big, especially if it’s in a large size because the killer has large hands.”

“Sounds as though you’re ruling out women in this homicide.”

“Some women have large hands,” Josh said as they reached his car.

“Few women wear college class rings. Fewer still own a sport ring, and I really have never personally known a woman who possessed a fraternity ring.”

“Oh, really? How about the ones that are given frat rings from their boyfriends?”

“You mean our killer is a coed today? Now that theory surprises me.”

Josh fell silent as he started the car’s engine, then said quietly, “You know what surprises me, Maggie? You do. What do you want from me?”

Maggie couldn’t believe her ears. Her pulse ran wild and she wished she could backtrack and steer this conversation in another direction. But it was too late. All she could do now was stand up for herself and show Josh Benton that he didn’t scare her.

“I could ask you the same question,” she said brazenly. “But I fear I’d hear a different answer at any given time of the day. Take this morning. I think we both know what you wanted from me this morning, although I do admit to not having a clue at the moment. Guess I’m not a mind reader after all. Maybe I was wrong about this morning, too.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

“Pardon? What did you say?”

“You heard me. I said you weren’t wrong.”

“Prove it,” Maggie said before she could stop herself.

Josh had had enough. He wove through traffic and made a sharp right turn into a dark alley. Slamming on the brakes, he put the shifting gear in park, unhooked his seat belt and then slid as close to her as he could get, considering the elaborate console on the seat between them.

Maggie was staring at him wide-eyed, trying to make out his eyes in the dim dash lights. “Wha-what’re you doing?” she stammered.

“Proving it,” he growled, and unhooked her seat belt. He took her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him, close enough that he easily found her lips with his. His kiss was hot and hard, and she felt herself breaking apart, piece by piece.

When she could no longer breathe through her nose, she jerked her face to the side and whispered hoarsely, “No more. You proved your point.”

“Not entirely.” He took her hand and brought it to his lap.

She wanted to leave it there. She wanted to unzip his pants and feel the heat of his arousal on the palm of her hand. Instead, she drew it back slowly and waited to see what he would do next.

He finally did it. “Is that what you want?” he asked harshly. “I didn’t want to hurt Tim by messing with you, but I’m losing ground on that noble concept. If you want sex with me, I think I’m ready to crumble. But you have to remember something. The reason I’m not married is because I don’t like the statistics. Everyone I know…practically everyone…has been married and divorced at least once. I won’t live my life like that. There are usually kids, and they’re the ones who really suffer, but so does at least one person in every destroyed marriage.

“Maggie, if you and I sleep together that’s all it will ever be. Can you live with that? If you can, we’ll go to my place right now and make love all night.” He stopped talking and waited. “Don’t you have an answer?”

“Not tonight I don’t,” she whispered, shaken to her very soul. “Please, let’s go.”

“Are you going to have an answer tomorrow?”

“I…don’t know.”

“I already know your answer, you don’t have to say a word. You want marriage and kids, the same as everybody else does.”

“Everybody but you.”

Josh slid back behind the wheel. “Could be. I won’t argue about it. I’m who and what I am, and it’s take me as I am or not at all.”

“I have the picture, loud and clear. You don’t have to belabor the point.” She fought tears all the way back to the Bureau and her car, but she also did a lot of deep thinking. And just before getting out of Josh’s vehicle, she let him have it with both barrels. “I will never believe you haven’t married and plan to remain a bachelor for life because of divorce statistics. You’re conning yourself and I think you know it. Just don’t insult me again by using that line of drivel with me!”

Chapter 4

M aggie’s current workweeks ran Mondays through Fridays. In a few more weeks that would change, as everyone in the Detective Bureau, even forensic specialists, had to rotate their days off so that no one had a lock on the traditional weekend. It was an equitable arrangement, Maggie felt, fair to everyone. She willingly worked her weekends when necessary, but as she began work on Friday she actually prayed that no one heading up a case would request her services on Saturday or Sunday. She needed some time off, and two days away from Josh Benton should help her down-in-the-mouth mood immensely.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the things he’d said to her.

What she’d said to him had been richly deserved, she told herself, and maybe she should have said more. Any woman stupid enough to get mixed up with a man of Josh’s sentiments and outlook on the only things that really mattered in this grueling life-love, marriage, children-deserved all the pain she would suffer. That life wasn’t for her, Maggie thought again and again, and if it were possible to rip every shred of feeling from her body until she truly got over the arrogant jerk, she would do it in a New York minute.

But that was where she was stymied. Her feelings were their own master, apparently, and uncontrollable. Her heart thumped much too frenetically whenever she caught sight of Benton, and when he talked to her about the Gardner case and she had to look him in the eye, she got weak in the knees and felt like a pot of molten lava was boiling her insides. It made her almost ill to acknowledge such a weak-willed thing about herself, but how could she deny something so obvious? She could tell herself a million times that she hated Josh, but it wasn’t true. She had always considered herself so sane and sensible, but where was her sensibility now? It’s probably hiding behind your incredibly stupid heart that’s just begging to be smashed to smithereens!

Trying almost desperately to not drown in self-pity and not completely succeeding, Maggie studied photos for most of the day, those that Jack had snapped at the scene, those she had taken at the morgue. Especially provocative were the shots-both Jack’s and hers-of the victim’s facial bruises. A major step in the process for Maggie was booting up her computer, pulling up the photographic analysis program and then inserting the tiny digital disk from her camera.

For hours she studied the images on the monitor, enlarged pertinent areas of the photographs and used different screening and shading techniques to enhance vague features of the photos. Zooming in on the characteristics of one particularly harsh bruise, Maggie frowned and narrowed her eyes at the screen. There was a design of sorts in that bruise, but it still wasn’t clear enough to identify.

“I’d like us to go over the case file together.”

Maggie nearly jumped out of her skin. It was Josh’s voice, and she had been so involved that she hadn’t realized he’d been sneaking up on her.

Well, maybe the word sneaking was a bit harsh. He could hardly do much sneaking when there were other detectives all over the place.

Maggie looked at her watch. It was almost six, her shift was only minutes away from being over for the day. And then, thank goodness, she had a whole weekend to pull herself together.

“It shouldn’t take that long,” Josh said, fully comprehending the reason for Maggie checking the time.

“Fine,” she said stiffly.

“We’ll do it at my desk.” He walked away.

“I have to print something, then turn off the computer,” Maggie called to his retreating back.

He waved his right arm without looking back, an impersonal acknowledgment that grated on Maggie’s nerves. All but gritting her teeth, she printed, saved her work and then followed proper procedure to safely shut down the computer.

She also picked up the photographs, which she had arranged in order of importance. One small stack remained on her desk when everything else had been cleared away. Along with the printed image of the vague design she had just started to digest, she brought those with her, and strode to Josh’s office with an all-business look in her eyes. This meeting is not getting personal! If he says one thing that’s not related to the case, I’m going to let him have it again, and if he files a complaint with human resources about my bad attitude and conduct, I’ll tell them exactly what he said to me yesterday. How would he like that, huh?

He wouldn’t like it, and she knew it. But there were things going on that she didn’t like and still had to put up with.

For some unknown reason Maggie felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes. God, am I going to start bawling every time Josh says something to me? What in heck is wrong with me?

Josh looked up when she slipped into his little cubicle and took a chair. The case file was open in front of him, and he started the discussion with, “I don’t see a report on the coffee table.”

“It’s there. I examined every inch of that table and wrote a detailed report on it. The table is in the evidence room at the crime lab and the report is in that file.”

“Show me.” Josh slid the folder toward her.

Maggie pursed her lips. Was he calling her a liar? Doubting her efficiency? She grabbed the folder, opened it and began thumbing through the reports. She pulled out the coffee table report and held it out to him, but barely noticed when he took it. Another one had caught her eye, one she hadn’t yet read, and she stopped to scan it. Detectives Waters and Wilson had driven to the Gardner estate and talked to Mrs. Cecelia Gardner, Franklin ’s mother.

“Detective…let me see who signed this.” Maggie looked for the signature and continued. “Detective Waters indicated that Cecelia Gardner was at a charity function the night her son was killed, among many witnesses.” Maggie looked at Josh. “Do charity affairs last all night?”

“Time of death was set by the M.E. as having occurred before midnight.”

Frowning slightly, recalling that she had judged Gardner ’s death to have occurred at around that same time after her preliminary examination at the crime scene, Maggie chewed on her lower lip and thought about this new development. Mrs. Gardner was almost eighty years old, which certainly didn’t preclude an occasional late night. Maggie decided her imagination was going to extremes. She dropped her eyes to the report and read that Detective Waters and his partner, Detective Wilson, had made inquiries about Franklin ’s son, Stephen, age twenty-three, who wasn’t at home when they called.

“I didn’t know Franklin had a son,” Maggie murmured.

“There’s also a Lyle Gardner, Franklin ’s older brother. He lives at the Gardner estate, as well, but was home supposedly watching television that night.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow, pondering the Gardner family. “Everyone lives with Cecelia Gardner, except for Franklin. Was he a bit of a bohemian?”

“Probably just a little more independent than the other men in his family. Could be he liked his privacy.”

“He could have had reasons for liking his privacy.”

“Such as?”

“Late-night visitors? Maybe people of questionable character? People his mother might have objected to?”

“There’s still the chance the whole thing began as a burglary.”

Maggie sniffed. “I never did buy into that theory, and since you haven’t talked about it, either-not in my presence, at any rate-it appears to be pretty low on the motive totem pole.”

“What do you think could be the motive?”

“I believe that Franklin knew his killer and some sort of disagreement evolved into violence.”

Josh hesitated a few moments, then nodded. “I think the same thing. You’re pretty sharp, Detective Sutter.”

“Uh, thanks.” Maggie’s cheeks burned, not from the compliment but from what she’d just seen-again-in his eyes. Now, what was it she had been going to say if he became even remotely personal with her?

Josh leaned back and enjoyed the view. That glorious dark red hair of hers was a major temptation. She always wore it back from her face, and he would love to see it wild and free. Or tangled beneath her head on a pillow. Ah, yes, how could he deny the pleasure that would bring him?

Maggie’s interest in the case file had waned dramatically. In fact, she could hardly make out the typewritten words on the reports. Benton kept giving off sexual vibes, saying things with his eyes that he wouldn’t dare put into words. Not on the job, at least.

But how about in her apartment? Something had almost happened there. Could she make it happen again, only this time with her keeping things rolling along?

But what if he really was involved with someone? The last thing Maggie could ever see herself doing was carrying on a clandestine affair with a married or otherwise committed man.

How could she find out? An idea occurred to her. “This has nothing to do with the case, but I’ve been thinking about having a little dinner party. If I put you on the guest list, would you come or refuse?”

Josh couldn’t quite conceal his surprise. Or his instantaneous curiosity. What was really going on behind those stunning violet eyes of hers? Had she decided that his little speech yesterday had been more of a compliment than an insult? After all, wasn’t honesty always better than deceit, which was the game a lot of guys on the prowl practiced with women they wanted to bed? But considering the way she had bristled before getting out of his car, a dinner invitation was just about the last thing he could have imagined happening between them.

He regarded her for a long moment. “Are you and I becoming friends?”

Maggie knew she had perplexed him. “Does a dinner invitation indicate an offer of friendship to you?”

“Yes, but I was under the distinct impression you didn’t like me. You used to like me, but that was a long time ago and people change.”

“Yes, they certainly do,” Maggie drawled dryly. “Back to that dinner idea, should I put your name on the guest list, or not? I would include your wife…or girlfriend…of course.”

“My wife! Didn’t I tell you just yesterday that I’m not the marrying kind?”

“And I told you what I thought of such obvious malarkey, didn’t I? Why you still think that I’m backward enough to believe every word you say is beyond me. Do I really strike you as being a pickle short?”

Josh laughed. “A pickle short of what? Look, if you throw a dinner party and want me as a guest, I could probably scare up a date, just to keep your numbers even. That’s assuming, of course, that you would have a date of your own at the table.”

At that exact moment Maggie’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw Natalie’s name and number. “Oh, I forgot my promise,” she groaned. “May I take this call?” she asked Josh.

He shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Maggie pressed the talk button. “Nat, I’m sorry but I’m very busy and can’t talk right now. You’re calling about tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. Tonight I’m the one who’s canceling,” Natalie said with a little giggle. “I’ve got a date with my new guy.”

“Oh, good for you. Let’s get together over the weekend, okay?”

“If I can. He’s pretty hot stuff…or at least he looks like he is. I’ll probably find out all about it tonight. I’ll let you go. Just didn’t want to leave you hanging on a Friday night.”

“I appreciate the consideration. Bye for now.”

Maggie broke the connection and saw the most peculiar look on Benton ’s face, a rather sour look, in fact. It struck her then that Nat was a non-gender name. She could have been talking to a man!

The damned dog in the manger. He didn’t want the hay but neither did he want the horse to have it. Okay, she’d had enough of his lecherous looks and about-face attitudes. It was kill or cure time…and he sure deserved anything she might dream up to make him show his true colors.

“I have the weekend off,” she said casually. “What’s your day like tomorrow?”

Startled, Josh sat up straighter. “Um, I’ll be here for most of it. Why?”

“That dinner party I mentioned.”

“You can plan a party and invite people that fast?”

“My friends aren’t at all uptight. If they’re not busy, they’ll be happy to come.”

“Well…sure…I guess I could make it. About what time?”

Maggie could tell he wasn’t thrilled about this. He seemed sort of squirmy to her, but since he’d already said he would come if invited, he would keep his word.

Good boy. “Seven should do it. Is seven okay for you?”

“It’s…uh, fine.”

“Good. Now, I have something I’d like you to take a look at.” Maggie handed him the photo she had enhanced and printed.

Josh took it, studied it for several moments then looked at her. “You’ve brought up portions of a design. That’s darn good computer work, Maggie. Do you think you could make this clearer still?”

“I fully intend to try. Maybe I should come in tomorrow and work on it,” she added thoughtfully. Personal plans were secondary to solving a crime of this magnitude, especially when the plan was nothing more than a half-baked, undeveloped, completely aimless impulse in the back of her mind. It was all about putting Benton in his place, of course, but how did a sexual greenhorn accomplish such a feat with an obviously experienced man?

Shuddering and praying he wouldn’t notice, she expanded her previous comment. “Tomorrow morning, at least. What do you think?”

Josh nodded. “Maybe you should. But would your working tomorrow morning…say until noon…ruin your dinner party plans?”

Maggie began gathering her things. “I don’t think so. Is there anything else for now?”

“Well, we could talk all night about the case, but I doubt we would know any more at sunup than we do right now. Are you going to be here in the morning, then?”

“Yes.”

Josh got to his feet. “Maybe I’ll see you, maybe not. I plan to spend some time at the lab in the morning. I’d like another look at that coffee table, for one thing.”

Maggie was immediately defensive. “I’m sure you’ll find everything in order as far as the tests and analyses I did at the lab.”

“Did I say I wouldn’t? Did I even hint that you might not have handled everything as professionally as possible?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Go home, Maggie. I’ll either see you here in the morning or at your apartment at seven tomorrow evening.”

Cheeks on fire over being dismissed so abruptly, she hurried out.

All during the drive home she worried about her virginity. The only thing she knew about luring a man into either making love or an awful fool of himself was what she’d read in novels, or heard about from friends. Did she possess enough knowledge to behave as a worldly woman? She had to, she told herself. She simply had to! If he ever caught on that she was green as a gourd around men, he would probably laugh her into next week.

“Oh dear Lord,” she whispered, almost afraid to get to the bottom of what was driving her into doing something so foreign to her nature.

The streets were dangerously icy in spots. Maggie drove with a tight grip on the steering wheel, an eye out for black ice and an agonizing sense of despair. The despair was a result of feeling so confused about tomorrow night. When Benton arrived at her door expecting to join other guests for her “dinner party” and discovered he was the only guest, would he bolt? Laugh at her?

At a red light Maggie watched for the green signal and realized that she had turned into an awful wimp since meeting Josh again. Other than her outburst last night, she had let him walk all over her. For heaven’s sake, why? Had she been thinking that he was so far above her that he was better than she was? He wasn’t a bit more intelligent. Yes, he had more experience with the CPD, but he was also ten years older, which meant that when he reached retirement age, she would still be going strong.

“Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. The signal light turned green and she got the car moving again.

And that was when her plan-so vague and undefined before-became clear in her mind. Each and every step of it. She wasn’t a wimp, she never had been, and tomorrow night she was going to knock Josh’s socks off.

Still at his desk, Josh finally heaved a sigh and closed the Gardner case file. It was becoming thicker by the day-by the hour, actually. Colin Waters and his partner were doing an exemplary job of interrogating family, friends and business associates. There was a report in the file about Desmond Reicher, the COO for Gardner Corporation, which was intriguing because of its reference to Reicher, supposedly an upstanding citizen, possibly having an underworld connection. The report left Josh uneasy and wondering if Franklin had been aware of the corporation’s chief operating officer’s extracurricular activities. And, of course, the logical question to follow that one could only be, was Gardner himself involved in Reicher’s unlawful schemes, if they were, in fact, provable?

Josh’s thoughts suddenly changed directions. Maggie, Maggie. What am I going to do about you? Leaning back in his chair with his hands locked behind his head, he put his feet up on his desk. He felt all torn up over Maggie, and he truthfully didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe when the Gardner case was solved and they were no longer working together, he could stop thinking about her.

But, hell, there’d be another case, he thought disgustedly. Even so, he might be able to avoid Maggie most of the time, but how could he avoid what was going on inside his own body? He wanted her. There, he had finally admitted it. He wanted to make love to Maggie Sutter, and not just a quick slam, bam, thank-you-ma’am kind of love. He wanted to hold her, to stroke her beautiful long hair, to look into her eyes while he…while he…

Josh dropped his feet to the floor and told himself to get a grip on reality. Good God, she was ten years younger than he was and Tim’s kid sister, to boot. Besides, she sure didn’t act as though she would welcome a seriously adult pass from him.

Wishing that he’d refused her dinner invitation-he could have come up with some excuse-he pulled on his heavy coat. But there was consolation in knowing about the other guests. Probably wouldn’t be many because Maggie’s apartment wouldn’t accommodate a crowd, but there was safety in even small numbers. Two or three other guests would be enough to make him keep his hands to himself. It might even turn out to be a pleasant evening.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered on his way out.

The next day, Maggie worked intently on those photo enhancements until noon. She had printed out five of the best ones and put them in the case file, although she still wasn’t satisfied with their quality.

Benton hadn’t shown his face all morning, and she was glad because her stomach had been doing somersaults as it was. She rushed away a few minutes after twelve, made several stops to purchase the things she needed for dinner tonight, and finally got home at one-thirty. After working in the kitchen for two hours-now all she had to do to feed Benton was turn on the oven for about fifteen minutes-Maggie hurried to the bathroom to start on herself. She had cleaned the apartment last night, and everything shone like a looking glass. This morning she had put fresh linen on the bed. Everything was ready for the evening ahead except for herself and a few final touches to the apartment. She had hours to get ready, and she planned to use every minute of them. She began with a foot soak and a pedicure. No part of her was going to remain untouched. She was going to be as perfectly groomed as any woman could be.

And she was going to learn tonight why Josh kept looking at her with hot, desire-filled eyes and never did anything about it.

Her virginity scared the hell out of her. What if he did something about it tonight and then came unglued because she had never been with another man?

“Oh God,” Maggie whispered. If they should happen to end up in bed together, was there anything she could do to prevent his understanding her pristine state? What scared her most was that she’d heard all her life that the first time for some women was horribly painful. If she were in that category, Josh would know in an instant that he was the first.

Maybe she could pretend everything was wonderful, and really, why did she keep thinking it was even going to happen?

Because you’re going to make it happen, that’s why! It’s why you cleaned until midnight last night, and the reason there’s fresh linen on your bed, and why dinner is ready and just needs a few minutes in the oven, and why white wine is chilling in the refrigerator, and two bottles of red are uncorked and breathing on the kitchen counter.

It’s the reason that it’s going to take you at least three hours to get yourself ready for the evening. When you open your door to let Josh in, his eyes just might pop right out of his head, because he’s going to see a Maggie Sutter that he’s never seen before.

Maggie was working on her pedicure when the telephone rang. Walking on her heels so her toes wouldn’t touch the carpet, she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mag. How’re you doing, kid?”

“Tim! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”

“Couldn’t be better. But you didn’t answer my question. How are you doing?”

“I’m great. Working hard and loving my job.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I ask how you’re doing and all you can talk about is your job? Baby sister, what about Mr. Perfect? Haven’t you met him yet?”

“Are you trying to get me married off?” Maggie teased, though her heart had begun thumping over Tim’s reference to the perfect man for her.

“Of course I am. That’s what big brothers are for. Seriously, you must be seeing someone. Tell me about him.”

“Sorry, but my dates have been only casual events for years and years. How’s Laurie and the boys?”

“The boys are healthy, happy whirling dervishes, and Laurie is pregnant.”

“Pregnant! Oh, Tim, I’m so happy for both of you. You’re hoping for a girl this time, aren’t you?”

“Laurie is. We’ll know if it’s a boy or a girl in about another month. I’ll let you know, okay?”

“You bet it’s okay.”

“So, what’s going on with your job. Working on a big case?”

“Actually, yes. It’s a homicide, and…and…” Maggie knew the only way to say this was to dive in headfirst. “I’m working with Josh Benton on the case.”

“Josh! Hell’s bells, is he still on the force? Say hello for me, all right?”

“Why not call him and say hello for yourself?”

“Maybe I should do that. Do you have his number?”

“Sure do. Hold on.” Maggie was back with Josh’s business card in seconds. She read off the numbers, assuming that Tim was writing them down. “It’s too bad you two lost touch,” she said. “If memory serves, you were pretty tight.”

“To some degree. Oh, we had some good times, that’s for sure, but Josh came by to see Ma as much as he did to see me.”

Maggie was floored. “I don’t remember him spending time with Mom.”

“Well, he did. His own mother died when he was in his teens, you know, and he took a big liking for Ma. She thought the world of him, too. Used to cook his favorite dishes when she knew he’d be there for supper. You don’t remember any of that?”

“No,” Maggie said quietly. “Obviously my mind was elsewhere when that was going on.” Yes, it sure was. It was dreaming about Josh Benton noticing that you were all grown up and dying to be kissed by him.

“Next time I see him I’ll tell him to expect a call from you,” she said before ending the call.

Maggie found herself even more unnerved about Josh coming over tonight than she’d been before Tim’s phone call.

Maybe her upset stomach was because she’d lied to her brother about never having met Mr. Perfect. After all, she’d met him ten years ago, when he’d dropped by the house to see her mother!

Chapter 5

“N at, I’ve gotten myself into the most ridiculous mess. Before I explain, let me ask how you and your new guy are getting along.”

Natalie sighed dreamily in Maggie’s ear. “He’s wonderful…absolutely wonderful. I think I’m in love.”

“I’m glad. Are you seeing him tonight?”

“He should be here any minute. Why, Maggie?”

Maggie gave her friend an abbreviated explanation of her dilemma. “I invited Detective Josh Benton to have dinner here tonight. He thinks there are going to be other guests. There aren’t. Or there weren’t going to be. I can’t do it. He’s going to end up thinking I’m a total moron. Could you possibly bring your boyfriend and act as though I invited both of you yesterday?”

“Oh gosh, Maggie, we have tickets for that big fund-raiser concert everyone’s been talking about. Dozens of music and movie stars have donated their time and talents, and Tom paid a fortune for the tickets. I can’t disappoint him. I mean, how could I disappoint him?”

Maggie had heard about the big affair for weeks now. It was great that Natalie was getting to go to it. “You can’t,” Maggie said, adding, “I can’t believe I got myself into this.”

“Wait a sec. What time is your detective supposed to show up?”

“I told him seven.”

“Well, the concert starts at nine. Tom and I could come by, talk about the concert and how excited we are about attending it, eat a bite if you want us to and leave. Actually we could already be there when Detective Benton arrives. I can walk out my door the minute Tom gets here, and he’s such a sweetie that I’m sure he wouldn’t mind going to your place first. Would that help you out?”

Relief flooded Maggie’s system. “Immensely. Nat, I owe you, big-time. Come over the second Tom gets there.”

“This Benton guy must be important to you.”

“I don’t know if he’s important or simply a challenge. We…we have a history. I’ll tell you about it the next time we get together, after tonight. Anyhow, I nearly made a huge mistake. Thanks for the rescue, Nat. I won’t forget it.”

“See you in a few.”

“Right.” Maggie hung up then checked the time. She had about an hour until Josh got there, if he was on time. Thank God Nat and her friend Tom would precede his arrival.

Maggie, Natalie and Tom were sitting in the living room, talking, laughing and sipping wine when the front door buzzer went off in her kitchen. After the third refill Maggie no longer had to pretend to be having a good time but now her stomach did a flip-flop. Josh had arrived.

Maggie excused herself and went to the kitchen intercom. “Who’s down there ringing my bell?” she asked brightly.

The lilt in her voice startled Josh, but then it pleased him. Obviously the party was already in process and Maggie was enjoying it. Great. She was usually far too serious.

“It’s the big bad wolf,” he growled playfully. “Let me in or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.”

“Which big bad wolf? There’s more than one in this neighborhood.”

“This one happens to be your boss, my dear,” Josh said in his best imitation of a villain in a melodrama.

“You just said the magic words, my dear,” Maggie drawled back at him. She laughed and pressed the button that would unlock the front door.

She checked the table that was set for four, turned on the oven and then returned to the living room. “He’ll be right up,” she announced.

“Maggie, we can only stay long enough to meet him,” Natalie said with a concerned expression. “I didn’t know it when we talked on the phone, but Tom promised to pick up several of his friends on the way to the concert. They’ll all be waiting, and…well…”

Tom spoke up. “I’m really sorry we can’t stay for dinner, Maggie. We’ll do it some other time, I promise.”

Maggie’s stomach sank, but she forced a smile. “I understand. I’m glad you were able to come by at all, considering your plans for the evening.”

They were getting into their coats when the doorbell rang. Maggie let Josh in, introduced the trio, then said good-night to Natalie and Tom. Natalie hugged her and whispered in her ear, “He’s gorgeous. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Maggie closed the door and leaned her back against it while she looked at Josh. His overcoat was wonderful. He was wonderful. Wonderful looking, at least. No telling what he would say or do when the truth came out.

Josh stood there in his overcoat and wondered what in heck was going on. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anyone else in the apartment. Was he late? Had everyone already eaten and gone? Maggie had said seven, hadn’t she?

“Did they leave early or am I late?” he asked. He couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over Maggie, down, up, down, up. She looked ravishingly beautiful in a blue skirt and blouse that were very close in color to her eyes. Her hair was exactly the way he’d been wanting to see it, loose, bouncy and framing her face. Her skirt was short, with the hem about two inches above her knees, and her legs in hosiery were stunning. This was a Maggie he’d never seen before, and he liked the view immensely.

She pushed away from the door. “Let me take your coat. Natalie and Tom had previous plans. They left early. You’re not late.”

“And the other guests?” Josh handed her his overcoat.

Maggie hung it in the tiny foyer closet. “There aren’t any.”

“Your other friends were all busy?”

“So it appears.” Maggie stepped into the living room. “Come and sit down. Would you like some wine? We’ve been drinking this bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, but I also have some white wine in the refrigerator.”

“The Cabernet is fine.” He noticed the one unused wineglass upturned on a napkin, which told him that Maggie had expected only three guests. Four wineglasses, including her own, were all there were. Obviously her spur-of-the-moment dinner party hadn’t panned out.

But he didn’t mind being the only guest, he didn’t mind it a bit. In fact, as he sat on Maggie’s sofa and sipped her wine, he began feeling cozy and contented. Sort of like he was sinking into a big, soft, warm pillow. Not that he’d actually ever done that, not literally, but the sensation was delicious, all the same. Here he was, alone with a beautiful, sexy woman, drinking wine and hearing soft music along with the wail of the wind beyond the walls of the building. Could heaven be more pleasurable? he wondered with a smile at Maggie.

That smile said a thousand things-Lord, he was a stunner!-and discombobulated Maggie. Nervous again, she stammered, “Uh, dinner is warming in the oven as we speak. We’ll be able to eat in about ten minutes.”

“Whatever you say. Anything you say.”

He was much too sweet and affable tonight, not at all the man she’d been working with these past few days. Even his face was different. Still outrageously handsome but without the granite his gray eyes usually portrayed. In fact, there was softness in his eyes that she certainly hadn’t seen before. Not even the morning he’d almost kissed her.

He’s on the prowl, you ninny! You could have him in your bed tonight with one small hint from you that he’d be welcome! Wasn’t that what you wanted to happen? The reason for this farce of a dinner party? After all, do you want to die a virgin?

No! But I don’t know what to do.

Just…just smile and feed him! He’s a man, isn’t he, and haven’t you heard for most of your life that men basically want two things from women, sex and nurturing? He’s not stupid. Be nice and he’ll catch on, and when he does, watch out!

Maggie nearly choked on her swallow of wine over that wild and woolly progression of thoughts. Her head was spinning more than it should be. She’d consumed too much wine on an empty stomach. It was time to eat.

She got up. “I’m going to put the finishing touches on dinner. You sit back and relax. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” She started for the kitchen, never dreaming that he would do what he did next.

“I’ll help. I’m not the kind of guest who lets the hostess do all the work,” he said smoothly. Josh was no more than one step behind her when they entered the tiny kitchen. “Oh, you have the table all ready. What else needs to be done?”

“Nothing. I mean, nothing big or…you know…important.” This was not going well, although she honestly didn’t know how to improve the status quo. Her stomach was in knots and her head was spinning, but the peculiar sensation down very low in her body was by far the most disconcerting symptom of whatever malady had attacked her at the very same moment that Josh had stepped inside her apartment. It was, of course, his fault.

“Sit down,” she said, deliberately sounding curt. She went to the refrigerator and brought out the bowl of salad she had prepared earlier. She removed the plastic wrap from the bowl before setting it on the table. Then she dared to look directly at her guest. “You’re not going to sit?”

“I will when you do. Besides, there are four place settings. Where would you like me to sit?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Such a small oversight should not have been an embarrassment, but Maggie felt her face flame. Instantly she became defensive. She wasn’t perfect, especially in this sort of situation. She should have removed two of the place settings from the table before doing anything else in the kitchen. “If you’re still looking for something to do,” she said a bit sharply, “you can gather two of the place settings and put them on the counter.”

“Glad to do it.” Josh could tell she was terribly uneasy. Almost clumsy, in fact, when at work she walked and moved with the utmost grace. He moved the extra settings to the counter then turned to look at her. She was just about to open the oven door when he asked quietly, “What’s wrong, Maggie? Do I make you uncomfortable?”

She straightened, stared wide-eyed at him and then humiliated herself beyond belief by getting tears in her eyes. “I…I’m so…stupid,” she whispered, and grabbed a paper towel from the roll near the sink and dabbed at her wet eyes.

Josh took one big step and clasped her upper arms. “Why would you say something like that? Why would you even think it?”

“You make me think it.” Her voice was thick from emotional unshed tears.

Josh studied the moist depths of her eyes. They were standing no more than six inches apart. His hands on her arms were like a live-wire connection, and he felt the desire for her that had been badgering him off and on since the night of the murder taking control of his system, including his ability to deny how much he wanted her.

“If I’ve been doing that, then I’m sorry,” he said huskily.

“I…I don’t think you mean to do it,” she whispered. “It’s me, and…”

“And what?”

Maggie slid her eyes away from his. “I’m sure you didn’t know it, but I…I had an awful crush on you when…when you and Tim were friends.”

“And that makes working together now tough for you?” Josh laid his hand on her cheek. “Look at me.” She brought her eyes back. “First of all, I knew all about that crush. I also knew it wouldn’t last and that teenage kids seem to love torturing themselves with crushes…”

“That’s not true! It lasted…forever!”

They stared into each other’s eyes. Josh dampened his lips with his tongue. “You’re not saying those old feelings are still making your life miserable, are you?”

Again she angled her gaze away. “Something is,” she said in a shaky little voice.

Josh was astounded. “Maggie, I’m ten years older than you!”

“And that’s important because?” she asked with heavy sarcasm.

“I could almost be your father!”

“Oh, for crying out loud. Don’t overdo the drama, Benton. Who ever heard of a ten-year-old father?” She wriggled free of his grasp and went to the oven. “Sit on the far side of the table. We’re going to eat.” She took the hot dishes from the oven and placed them on the table.

Then she brought out a bottle of chilled white wine from the refrigerator and set it and a corkscrew near Josh’s plate. “Do the honors, if you don’t mind,” she said and brushed away one more errant tear.

Josh didn’t know what to do. Maggie couldn’t seem to stop crying, dinner was on the table, and he felt like pond scum, although he didn’t know why he should. So what if she’d had a girlish crush on him ten years ago? It was a common enough occurrence and shouldn’t be bothering either one of them at this late date.

But it was. It was the reason Maggie couldn’t keep her eyes dry, and maybe had a lot to do with why he wanted to haul her off to the bedroom instead of sitting down to eat the fine meal she had prepared.

Just to do something with his hands, he opened the wine and poured some into the stemmed glasses by each plate. Then they sat and Maggie said, “Help yourself. The chicken is baked and I’m sure you’ll remember that vegetable casserole.”

Josh looked at it. “You’re right. Your mother used to fix that.”

“It’s her recipe. You know, Tim called today and he said something that sort of surprised me. He said that you used to come by the house to see Mom, as well as him. Is that true?”

“Probably. I like your mother. How is she?”

“Dead.”

“My God, Maggie, you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“Fine, I’ll try to say it in such a way that it won’t affront your tender sensibilities. She passed away at age fifty after one hell of a battle with cancer. Is that better?”

“It’s terrible. I never knew.”

“Well, after Tim moved to California, Mom got a better job in Detroit, so we moved, too. It never occurred to me that you would come by after Tim left, so you probably never knew. Unless Mom talked to you.”

“No, she didn’t. I went by your old place about a month after Tim had gone, and someone else was living there. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I thought you and Lottie had also moved to California.”

“But you never really tried to find us.”

“Through the department, you mean? No, I never did. Did you ever try to contact me so I would know where you were?”

“Did you ever talk to Tim again after he left?”

Josh realized that they had both raised their voices. He put down his fork and sat back. “Why are we at each other’s throats?”

“I can’t speak for you, but I’m sore because we…none of us…meant enough to you for you to keep in touch.”

“Nor did your family keep in touch with me, Maggie. And everyone knew where I was.”

“Which makes the Sutters the villains and you Mr. Innocent.”

“I didn’t say that, but maybe it’s partly true.” Josh shook his head. “No, it isn’t. None of us kept in touch and with only a small effort we could have.” After eating a few more bites he said, “This is good, Maggie. You want to know something? You don’t look anything like a cop tonight.”

“And you do?”

Josh grinned. “Don’t I? What do I look like to you?”

“If you think I’m going to say something dorky, like a movie star, think again.”

“A movie star!” Josh roared out a laugh. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

Maggie smiled weakly. “Hilarious. Actually you look like a banker in that striped shirt. Or a stockbroker. Maybe an attorney…a well-dressed attorney.”

“Ah, so it’s this shirt that eradicates my cop image. I’ll have to remember that. Want to hear what destroys your cop facade? It’s the way your hair looks tonight, and that pretty blue outfit, and your legs and feet in high heels, and…” Abruptly Josh fell silent. What she’d said about her crush lasting forever had finally sunk in. Should he believe that she had feelings for him now that had endured through ten years of separation?

His pulse quickened. So what if he was older? Thirty-six wasn’t ancient, by any means, and she was twenty-six now, no longer a teenager and certainly no novice to male-female relationships.

Maggie became aware of the changing expression in his eyes as he regarded her. She’d had just enough wine to be bolder than usual.

“What’re you thinking?” she asked.

“You don’t look like a cop tonight, but now you’re sounding like one. What are you suspicious of, Maggie?”

His soft voice touched like a whisper of silk. “I’m wondering just how far you would let your imagination carry you.”

“How far does your imagination take you?”

“Unlike yours, not far at all. But then it’s hard to even try to imagine things that one has never experienced.” Maggie froze. She’d said too much! “Uh, how about some dessert? Ice cream and chocolate sauce?”

“No dessert. Your dinner was great. I’ll have some of that coffee, though.”

Maggie rose. “I’ll bring it to the living room. Please let me do a few things in here…I won’t be a minute…then I’ll join you.”

Josh got up. She was suddenly nervous as a cat. Because of what she’d said about not being able to imagine things she hadn’t experienced? What was that supposed to mean?

But he really had no wish to keep her strung out, so he nodded and walked from the kitchen. “The bathroom?” he called.

“Down the hall. On the right,” Maggie called back. She put her forehead against the refrigerator and wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She’d given away enough information tonight for a half-wit to figure her out, and Josh Benton was no half-wit. Was it because her tongue and privacy inhibitions had loosened from the wine she’d drunk, or would she have found a way to make a fool of herself without ingesting a drop of alcohol?

Maggie forced herself to put away the leftover food, then quickly cleared the table by putting the dishes in the sink. She would deal with them later, after she got rid of Josh. It was strange how her priorities had changed. She’d wanted him in her home badly enough to lie about it, and now she could hardly wait for the moment when he would say “Thanks for dinner and good night,” or something to that effect.

She filled two cups with coffee, put them on saucers on a small tray and went into the living room. Josh was again using the sofa, and when he saw the tray he shoved things aside on the coffee table to make room for it. Maggie set it down and stood to go to a chair, but he caught her by the arm.

“Sit here, by me,” he said quietly.

Her heart nearly burst through her chest wall. “I…I think I, uh, might have given you the wrong, uh, impression during our dinner conversation,” she stammered.

“You gave me the impression you wanted me to have. Sit down, Maggie. I won’t lie and tell you I don’t want you, because I do, and I’m sure I don’t have to spell out in what context. But no woman’s ever been in danger of having her principles compromised by me. One word is all I ever need to hear, one little word. It’s no, Maggie. Say it once and everything stops. Do you follow me?”

“You have assumed far too much from some of the silly things I said because I was half-tipsy throughout dinner.”

Josh frowned. “That sounded like a no right out of the starting gate. Was it?”

Maggie gulped. Yes or no? This was the moment of truth. The awful truth, actually. She didn’t want Josh to know she was still a virgin!

“It was a no,” she said in a shaky whisper.

Josh slowly rose. “Would you like me to leave? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I’ll make that decision myself and tell you it’s time for me to go.” He went to the closet for his overcoat and looked at her while putting it on. “Something odd is going on with you, Maggie. Maybe I’m part of it. I sort of feel as though I am.” He stopped to think a moment, then asked with a frown, “Did I lead you on ten years ago? Make you think something could happen for us?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“That’s a relief. I enjoyed all of the Sutters’ company, but I never thought of you back then as anything but a cute kid. Decent men don’t fool around with teenagers.”

“You don’t have to rub it in. I know the score now. According to what you told me the other day, men don’t fool around with women who want more than a roll in the hay from them, either.”

Josh’s eyes widened. “Are all of my sins written in concrete so that you will never forget them?”

“Why would I give a damn about your sins? I have enough of my own to worry about.”

Josh went to the door and turned to look at her. “You know, that’s where I think you’re pulling my leg. You don’t have any sin in your past, do you? Oh, maybe a romantic love affair or two, but no real sin.”

Maggie’s breath almost stopped in her throat for good. As she’d already known, he was no half-wit. He was very close to figuring out her every secret. He would have hit the bull’s-eye exactly if a twenty-six-year-old virgin wasn’t beyond his realm of realistic thinking.

“You’re right,” she said after catching her breath. “There’s no real sin in my past. I left that for you to handle, Detective. Here, let me unlock the door for you.” Maggie moved next to him and began unbolting the locks. She felt his eyes on her profile and flushed hotly. Expecting a pass any second, she finished quickly and stepped back. “Good night.”

Josh touched his forehead in a semblance of a salute. “Dinner was delicious, and I have to say one thing before I go that you’re probably not going to like. You, Maggie Sutter, are a flaming coward. Good night.”

He vanished through the door, closing it behind him. Maggie wilted into a weak-kneed heap while struggling to lock the dead bolts.

Then she fell onto the sofa and cried her eyes out. She hated Josh Benton.

But the real truth, she realized with another spate of tears, was that she didn’t hate him at all. She loved him. Madly, passionately, eternally. With all her heart and soul. She always had, from the first time they met when she’d been a starry-eyed teenager and he’d been her big brother’s friend until this very moment. It would go on, she knew. It would never disappear and let her lead a normal life. She was destined to die alone and miserable.

But her apparently indestructible feelings explained one thing very clearly. It was no wonder she’d never slept with another man-none had ever come close to measuring up to Josh.

Chapter 6

J osh slept restlessly that night. Along with images of Maggie haunting his dreams, he couldn’t clear his mind of Franklin Gardner’s premature demise. Something told him they were getting closer to the truth in the case, but there were still some perplexing pieces missing from the puzzle.

By morning Josh was feeling testy and out of sorts. It was a gray, cloudy day, which didn’t lift his spirits any. Grumbling about the lousy weather, he put on a pot of coffee to brew and then opened the door of his apartment to retrieve his copy of the Sunday newspaper from the hallway.

There, on the front page, was an inflammatory headline: Politicians Demand An Arrest In Gardner Murder.

Josh sank onto a chair at his kitchen table and read the article, which harped mostly on one theme: The police department was being pressured by everyone in the city with a modicum of power to find and arrest the murderer of Franklin Gardner. Various persons were quoted and had expressed shock over the heinous crime and perhaps some laxity in what should have been a speedy arrest. “After all,” one public figure stated, “it was a simple burglary until poor Franklin tried to protect his possessions. I understand that one of the missing treasures from his home is a priceless and very identifiable jade Buddha, carved in the sixteenth century. Now, how is the killer going to pawn something like that?”

“ Moron,” Josh muttered. Anything could be sold. Besides, the items that had gone missing that night, according to the housekeeper, were not “priceless.” Valuable, maybe, but not priceless. Josh never had believed the burglary theory, not when Franklin ’s killer could have taken things that might truly be categorized as priceless.

But Josh knew that anyone wanting to put their image before the public jumped on any bandwagon that happened to pass through their territory. An article like this one often got results, though. Josh might hate the pressure the media had the power to apply, but he couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Everyone involved with this case would feel bullied and unappreciated today, him included, but they would work just a little bit harder to find the killer and bring him to trial.

After drinking the entire pot of coffee and going through the Sunday paper, Josh shuffled back to his bedroom, threw the blankets over his bed, which was how he made it every morning, then continued on to the bathroom for a shower.

Even that didn’t bring up his mood, but he knew something that would. He got dressed in comfortable old jeans and an ancient Chicago Cubs sweatshirt. He was in his outside jacket and ready to leave when his house phone rang.

He almost left without answering, but that was only because of his bad mood. He went to the nearest extension phone and said a gruff “ Benton.”

“The decision to release Franklin Gardner’s body for burial was just made. Mrs. Gardner has planned the funeral for Tuesday morning. I expect you’ll be attending the service?”

“Yes, sir,” Josh said to his commander, even while thinking about how quickly that newspaper article had jacked everyone up. “Detective Sutter and I will both be there. Do you know the exact time and place?”

“Eleven o’clock at the Pines Cemetery. The church service before that is private. Family only. But the graveside service will be open to Franklin ’s many friends.”

“Mrs. Gardner’s words, I take it?”

“Precisely. I’ve some other calls to make. Have a good day.”

“You, too, sir.” Josh put down the phone, then wondered if he should call Maggie now or delay telling her about the funeral until he saw her at work tomorrow.

The mere thought of talking to her on the phone caused what felt like a low-voltage electrical shock to leap through his body. It left him feeling a bit numb but it didn’t surprise him. His whole damn system was out of sync because of Maggie Sutter.

She was becoming a larger-than-life person to him, making him rethink attitudes and standards that had seemed pretty much settled years ago. God, he was even beginning to think that getting married and having kids wasn’t such a bad way to go.

Cursing out loud, he grabbed his athletic bag and left the apartment. He drove to the gym that most of the cops used, changed into shorts and running shoes, then hit the indoor track.

Two hours later he had run at least five miles, worked out with weights, showered away the perspiration and donned his bathing trunks to finish his workout in the huge indoor swimming pool. He was at the door to the pool area with a towel around his neck when his heart actually skipped a beat. Just getting out of the water, climbing one of the far ladders, was Maggie.

She was wearing a plain black one-piece suit, she was dripping wet and she was, without a doubt, the prettiest sight he’d ever seen.

He knew when to admit defeat. You’re a gone goose, Benton. Be a man and admit it.

Entering the echoing pool room he walked straight to Maggie. She was drying off with a big soft-looking towel, and when she saw him her eyes got very big.

“Hello,” he said with a smile.

“Uh, hi,” she said, unable to conceal her surprise.

“Do you come here often? I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

A spurt of her normal gumption prompted a wry retort. “Since you didn’t even recognize me until the night of Gardner ’s homicide, why would you have noticed me here, at the gym?”

“Maybe because you’re very noticeable.” Before she could hit him with another zinger he said, “There’s something I need to tell you about the Gardner case. How much longer are you planning to be here?”

“Not long.” She had used six different exercise machines and finished her regimen with about twenty laps in the pool. “After a shower, I’m out of here.”

“I was going to swim a few laps, but I don’t have to. I’ve been working out for over two hours already. That’s enough for today. So, how about meeting me in the lobby in about what? Ten minutes? Fifteen?”

“Fifteen. I need to dry my hair.”

“Great. See you in fifteen.”

They went in different directions, Maggie to the women’s locker room, Josh to the men’s. She hurried through a shower and then drying her hair, wondering all the while if he really had something to tell her about the case or was using some feeble tidbit as an excuse to lord it over her one more time.

She groaned, because she wasn’t thinking clearly. Josh had his faults, but insisting on being king of the hill wasn’t one of them. Besides, why on earth would he want to spend time with her today for anything remotely personal when he’d had ample opportunity only last night to haul her willing if incredibly ignorant butt to bed?

He has absolutely no wish to haul any part of you to bed! Good Lord, you’re the one with the completely insane imagination, not him!

And you told him everything last night…all the secrets hidden in your foolish brain for so many years.

It was true, Maggie realized with a sinking sensation. She hadn’t revealed her secret passion for him in one long uninterrupted confession, but anyone with half a brain could connect the dots. Not only did Josh Benton possess a full and complete brain, he was an exceptional detective. The only thing that would prevent his grasping the content of her alcohol-induced blathering last night was a lack of interest. He just might not give a damn.

Also, exactly how mature was it for a woman to confess to the object of her affection that she had worshipped him from afar for ten damn years?

Groaning because she was behaving so out of character these days, Maggie unplugged her hair dryer and put it in her bag. She hadn’t brushed the natural curl out of her hair as she did on workdays, and her head was a mass of dark red curls. Yesterday, because of her dinner party-Maggie pursed her lips over that phrase-she had taken the time to actually give herself a hairdo, leaving some curl in strategic places, brushing it straight in others. Today she had taken no such pains.

Nor would she put on makeup, she thought spitefully. Why should she care if her face was practically colorless? Josh probably wouldn’t even notice.

And then she remembered what he’d said by the pool. Maybe because you’re very noticeable.

Did she have this thing all wrong? Was she reading Josh wrong? Where was her intuition, her instinct, her normal good sense?

Grabbing a small zippered case from her carryall bag, she went to a mirror and applied a touch of blusher to her cheeks and put on a bit of lipstick.

She was ready. “Go forth and face the enemy,” she said under her breath, wishing she knew for certain if Josh was a friend or merely her current working partner. Truthfully, she wished for more than that. If only she could read his mind just once and learn how he really felt about her.

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” she muttered.

A few moments later Josh saw her coming toward him. The large lobby contained a snack bar and some small tables, one of which he had held for their usage. He got to his feet and smiled. Maggie arrived and set her bag on the floor next to his.

He motioned to the other chair. “Have a seat. How about something to eat? And drink?”

“Thanks, but I’m not crazy about the snacks in this place.”

“Too healthy?” Josh asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Something like that, I suppose, though I prefer to call them tasteless. I’ll have one of those tropical fruit drinks, though. They’re pretty good.”

“Maybe we should leave this health-nut place and hit my favorite cheeseburger hangout,” Josh said with a little laugh.

He was surprising Maggie, she realized, teasing her, maybe even doing some flirting. Talking like a man did to a woman he liked. A thrill she couldn’t control rippled through her system, and her pulse began fluttering as she wondered if maybe she had somehow attained the power to read his mind after all.

“You know something?” she said pertly. “I would love to have a cheeseburger. Let’s go.”

Josh chuckled. “A woman after my own heart. By the way, I love what you did to your hair.”

Maggie cocked her eyebrow and spoke drolly. “It’s what I didn’t do to it. It would be a mop like this every day if I didn’t brush out the curl while I dried it.”

Josh reached across the table and stuck his finger into a curl. “It’s incredible,” he said softly. “Believe me, it doesn’t look like any mop I’ve ever seen.”

Okay, she hadn’t expected this! Not in a public place, at any rate. She backed away from his hand. “If we’re leaving, let’s get moving.”

“Sure, why not?”

They stood, picked up their bags and left the building.

Maggie drove her own car and followed Josh in his.

Josh was thinking with something other than his brain. In truth, his blood was running hot and fast. He would tell Maggie about the Gardner funeral service, of course, but that would use up about three minutes and what else could he talk about to hold her interest? He could always ramble on about the case, of course. He could mention Desmond Reicher…ask if she’d read Colin’s report on the man…talk about the shadow that possible underworld ties had cast on the whole affair…things like that.

“Damn,” he said, wishing he’d hung around her apartment a while longer last night, even though in his estimation they hadn’t gotten along all that well. But maybe the feelings she had admitted to having for him years ago still meant something today.

Wait a damn minute! What was that remark she’d made about her crush lasting forever?

Josh’s pulse rate quickened as he went over their conversation again, or tried to. It had occurred in starts and stops, he remembered that clearly, which made it nearly impossible to recall it word for word. But the gist of it all made a crazy kind of sense. Maggie felt the same about him now as she had ten years ago!

“You are imagining things,” he told himself flatly, refusing to believe that a woman with her looks, intelligence and magnetism would carry a torch for a guy who’d never done anything but kid around with her and treat her as the teenager she’d been back then.

Driving behind him, Maggie’s thoughts were practically in the same ballpark. She’d said far too much last night. Nervous again because of Josh’s rare display of affection and watching the back of his vehicle, Maggie kept thinking of his philosophy toward women in general. After that hair compliment-or forked-tongue flattery-she probably should worry that Benton had decided she was worthy of one of those brief affairs he had professed to prefer. Or else he had put it all together and that was the reason he was being flirty and cute today. She had made herself easy prey, giving him the impression that she would go wherever he led her.

She truly felt like bawling. Yes, she’d run off at the mouth, but not just to lure Josh into a cheap affair.

Or had that been her motive all along?

Maggie gasped. Of course that had been her motive! Why else had she contrived a dinner party with Josh as the only guest? For God’s sake, stop lying to yourself! You want to make love with him so much that you would do just about anything to get him into bed. You’re just afraid of how he’ll take his being the first!

It was the painful truth, and she wished ardently that she had slept with some guy, any guy, just so she wouldn’t be in this ludicrous place now.

Maggie gave her head a small shake. Josh had made a quick right turn and she didn’t want to lose him. He had invited her to ride with him just before leaving the gym, but she had thought it best if she took her own car. How silly could she get? She was so damn cowardly with Josh it was a wonder he didn’t kick her off his team at the Bureau.

Maggie’s lips thinned in further self-reproach. Wasn’t it time she acted her age in Josh’s presence? In every other area of her life she was independent as hell and afraid of nothing. The mere thought of how she behaved around Josh sickened her. Her adolescent ploy to get him to her apartment last night was bad enough, but then she’d chickened out and called Natalie. Then she’d drunk too much wine and made a fool of herself.

There’ll be no more of that, she thought grimly, squaring her shoulders. From this moment on she was off silly games and pretense. If she felt like saying something, she would say it.

Josh pulled his vehicle to the curb and parked, and Maggie followed suit. She was getting out when she saw Josh walking toward her.

“It’s Sunday,” he said with a look of chagrin on his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but Sammy’s Hamburger Haven is never open on Sunday. That’s why we had no trouble with curb parking. I should have remembered, but I guess I was thinking of other things.”

“Oh…well, no problem. We can do it some other time.” She got settled behind the wheel of her car again. “Do you want to talk right here about the case? You said you had something to tell me.”

“Yeah, guess so, though I don’t mind admitting I was all set for one of Sammy’s cheeseburgers and I’m feeling disappointed as hell. I’ll get in, okay? It’s too cold to stand out here.” He shut Maggie’s door and walked around the back of her car to reach the passenger door.

She realized that she hadn’t agreed to him getting in her car, but so what if he did? With lunch together out of the picture they were back to a business-only basis.

That was fine, too, she thought with a sigh, although she couldn’t help being at least as disappointed over the missed cheeseburger as Josh had said he was. But her sense of loss was more focused on what might have been said and done while they ate. Who knew where a simple lunch together might have gone?

Damn, was she back to grasping at straws?

Josh got in and pulled the door closed. “This cold goes straight to a man’s bones,” he said with a slight shiver.

“I’ll start the car.” Maggie turned the ignition key and the heater came on immediately.

“Thanks,” Josh said and proceeded to tell her about the funeral service on Tuesday.

“I think we should be there, too. I’d like to see the Gardner family for myself, for one thing. They seem to be an odd lot, if you read between the lines of Waters’s and Wilson’s reports about them.”

“You may be right,” Josh murmured. He turned his head to look directly at Maggie. “Can we talk about us now?”

She blanched. “Us?”

“Yes, us, as in you and me. I told you the latest information on the case, but I don’t want to just drive off now in one direction and watch you driving off in another.” He saw the color return to her face and knew he’d really given her a jolt. “I’ve changed a lot this week,” he said quietly. “I’ve changed because of you.”

She swallowed and realized how dry her mouth had become. Remembering her vow to be herself with him, she said, albeit hoarsely, “I…I’ve changed, too.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes.” She turned in the seat to face him. “It’s always been about you.” She watched the changing expressions on his face and within the depths of his incredible gray eyes. “Whenever we’ve been together I tried to act as though it didn’t matter, but it does matter.”

Their gazes locked and nothing short of an atomic blast could have broken their admiration of each other.

“I want to make love to you,” Josh said thickly.

“I want to make love to you,” she whispered, and had to forcibly stop herself from saying too much. It would be better for him to find out her last and final secret for himself.

“Your place…or mine?” Josh asked.

“Which is the closest? I don’t know where you live.”

“Yours.”

“Then we’ll go there.”

“Maggie…” He leaned forward, cupped the back of her head and touched his lips to hers, once, twice, a third time. And then he really kissed her, letting go of every inhibition and overwhelming them both.

She felt his tongue, the movement of his lips on hers. She inhaled his scent and realized how much bigger than her he was. The desire racking her body caused her to tremble, and she actually wondered if women ever fainted from this kind of passion.

He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Drive safely,” he said, and heard in his own voice how deeply affected he was.

“You, too.”

“Follow me again.” He got out hurriedly and strode to his own vehicle.

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” Maggie said as a tear spilled from her eye and coursed down her cheek.

Once they got to her apartment building, she couldn’t remember actually driving home. Her mind had gotten stuck on that kiss and what they were going to do in her bed. She’d felt feverish one minute and chilled the next. Anxiety had eaten at her one minute and more happiness than she’d known existed had warmed her soul the next. She was eager and she was frightened. But most of all she was swirling in a sea of the kind of excitement she’d only been able to imagine before today.

Finally they were both parked and in her apartment. They tore off their heavy jackets and dropped them on the floor just inside, right near the door, and then they fell into each other’s arms and began kissing hungrily.

Josh picked her up and mumbled two words. “Your bedroom.”

“Next to the bath.”

“I know.”

He set her on her feet next to her bed and began undressing her. It was lovely and startling and arousing for Maggie, all at the same time. No man had ever undressed her before, and looking at Josh’s face between hot, passionate kisses and the almost magical way he made her clothing disappear, she saw a reflection of her own feelings. This was as exciting for him as it was for her! How could that be? He certainly wasn’t a novice to…

No, she wasn’t going to think about his previous lovers. She adored him, and she loved every striking feature of his handsome face. She suddenly felt the need to see the rest of him, all of him, and she shoved the bottom of his sweatshirt up and pressed her lips to the hot skin of his bare chest.

He helped by grabbing the back of the shirt and yanking it over his head. Naked to the waist, he concentrated again on getting Maggie out of her clothes.

“Maggie, do you even know how beautiful you are?” he asked in a ragged shard of a voice.

She was pushing down his jeans and fitted boxers, and she didn’t care how beautiful she was, she only cared how beautiful he was. The sight of his hard belly and manhood weakened her knees. She stepped backward, to the bed, and quickly threw back the covers. Then, with him watching intently, she took off her bra and panties and lay down.

He was on her in the very next second, covering her body with his, covering her lips with his, and managing to whisper again and again, “Maggie…Maggie…Maggie.”

Nearly overcome by the pleasure of having his body on top of hers, with his arousal nestled in the perfect spot between her legs, Maggie ran her hands up and down his back and kissed every part of him she could reach with her lips. “Josh…oh, Josh,” she whispered. “My beautiful man, my love.”

Josh brought himself down so he could kiss her breasts. When he lavished attention to her nipples, he heard her moan softly and felt her twine her fingers into his hair. From the movement of her hips and the way she was rubbing herself against his erection, he was certain she was as hot as he was for the real thing.

He moved up again, took her mouth in a long, feverish kiss and slid into her. Or tried to. Startled, he raised his head and looked at her. “Maggie…”

“Don’t say one word. If you stop now I will never forgive you.”

“But…” She turned her head on the pillow, but he still saw the tears. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said in a hoarse, emotional voice. “You should be proud. You’re giving me the only gift a woman can give once in her life.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be gentle, little love,” he whispered.

And he was. He caressed her back to writhing passion, and when he finally entered her she was so breathless and needy that she barely noticed any discomfort. Fully inside of her, he began an easy rhythm. In seconds she was riding the same crest of passion that he was on. It built, not hurriedly but steadily, and the first spasms of completion were so amazingly pleasurable that she dug her fingertips into his back and began moaning. The sounds coming from her would not be held back; she heard herself and realized that the mere thought of control at this point was laughable.

She wasn’t laughing, though. She was soaring far above the mundane world that had been her life for twenty-six years. She was in love, and being loved, and nothing else that had ever happened to her could compare. When Josh moved faster and breathed harder, she went with him. And incredibly delicious minutes later, when he yelled her name, she was only strong enough to whisper his. He had taken her to the stars, and she was in no hurry to come back down to earth. She clasped him tightly and vowed that she would never let go of him. It seemed to be a completely reasonable oath in her dazed and bedazzled brain.

But it was over, and she was floating. The sensation of dreamy satisfaction she felt was certainly a close second on the pleasure-list, with the actual act of lovemaking being the first.

“I never knew,” she said softly.

Josh moved his weight from her to the bed and lay up against her. “Tell me why you never knew, Maggie,” he said softly while stroking her damp hair back from her face.

She looked into his eyes. “I guess I waited for you. I love you. I’ve always loved you. It wasn’t a kid’s crush, after all. It was the real thing, and maybe I knew that.”

He was overcome with emotion and tears filled his eyes. “I love you, Maggie.”

She snuggled closer and pressed her lips to his before whispering, “I’ve never been happier.”

Josh and Maggie went-in the same car-to the Pines Cemetery on Tuesday morning. They talked about the case, but they also kept smiling at each other. They had spent last night together, and while they hadn’t yet discussed marriage, they each knew they were heading in that direction.

“At least there’s a little sunshine today,” Maggie said as they exited the vehicle.

“Very little,” Josh said with a quick glance at the weak sun hanging in the sky.

“Spring has to be just around the corner. I, for one, can hardly wait.”

“I, for two, feel exactly the same.” Josh took her arm as they approached the group standing around the open grave. He stopped about twenty feet away. “This is close enough,” he said under his breath. “Look at each face. Who do you recognize?”

Maggie named some of the bigwigs in the Chicago government that were present.

“The woman seated is Cecelia Gardner, Franklin ’s mother,” Josh said. “Lyle, her eldest son, is sitting on her right. Stephen, Franklin ’s son, is sitting on her left.”

“Oh, there’s Colin and Darien.”

They were on the other side of the small crowd, doing exactly what Josh and Maggie were doing, checking out the attendees.

“And there’s Desmond Reicher,” Josh murmured. “The man standing right behind Mrs. Gardner. Do you see him?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if any of those men is left-handed,” Maggie murmured.

“Because?”

“Even though I still can’t make out a clear design of the killer’s ring from Franklin ’s facial bruises through photo enhancement, I’m certain that the person who delivered the brutal blows is left-handed. I did a report detailing the proof of that opinion but I need to verify one piece of it before I put it in the file for Detectives Waters and Wilson to follow up on.”

Josh looked at her. “You’re amazing.”

“So are you, my darling, in bed and out.”

“Are you asking for trouble, my sweet?”

“Umm, could be.”

“Then let’s go and find some.” With a wicked smile he tucked her hand around his arm and walked her back to his vehicle.

Epilogue

T he news that night did a special on the Gardner family, with emphasis on their good deeds in the Chicago area.

Snuggled together on the sofa, Josh and Maggie watched the report. They both snapped to attention when the special segment was followed by a statement from the anchor.

“Desmond Reicher, COO of the Gardner Corporation, was taken into police custody today and charged with the murder of Franklin Gardner.”

Josh and Maggie looked at each other, each of them conveying shock. “Is Reicher left-handed?” Maggie asked in a hushed, startled voice.

“I think we had better find out, don’t you?” Josh got up and went over to the phone. In a moment he had identified himself and asked, “Which facility is holding Desmond Reicher?” After another moment he said, “Thanks,” and broke the connection to place a second call. “This is important, Sergeant. You’ve got Desmond Reicher in a holding cell. Is he left-or right-handed?”

Josh turned to look at Maggie. “He doesn’t know,” he told her. “But he’s checking.”

She sat without moving, tense as a coiled spring, waiting to find out. Finally Josh said, “Thanks, Sergeant,” and put down the phone. “Reicher’s right-handed,” he said quietly.

“They’ve arrested the wrong man!”

“Yes, they have, but I would bet anything that Colin and Darien are already on top of it.”

Maggie relaxed some. “You’re right. But if it’s as simple as which hand the killer used to pummel Gardner, wouldn’t Reicher have been released by now?”

“There are complications in the case still to be ironed out, Maggie.”

Maggie sighed and put her head back. Josh resumed his place on the sofa next to her and took her hand. She smiled at him.

“There’s something I’d like to tell you,” he said.

“Feel free.”

“I led you to believe I never even got close to a genuine commitment with anyone and that’s not true.”

Maggie sat up straighter. “You don’t have to…I mean, you’re entitled…”

“You’re dying to know all about my life during the past ten years, so don’t get phony on me now, sweetheart.”

“All right, fine. Go ahead and bare your soul.”

“Well, my soul is hardly overburdened with deep, dark secrets, so my little story isn’t apt to leave me naked and bleeding.”

“Aw, heck. And there I thought I’d finally see the real Josh Benton.”

“You’ve always seen the real me, Maggie. You just didn’t know what went on behind the scenes ten years ago. And why would you have? Adult men don’t tell kids about the women they’re dating.”

“Oh, you were dating…someone,” she said, speaking almost wistfully.

“Your mother knew I was getting pretty serious about…would you like to know her name?”

“Do you still see her?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen her in years. The last I heard of her was that she had gotten married and moved to Savannah, Georgia.”

“Then, no, I don’t want to know her name. But you told Mom about her. How come?”

“Probably because your mother sort of became my mother for a while. Guess I missed my own mom, and Lottie was always willing to talk to me. Anyhow, I was on the verge of popping the question when the woman of my dreams started sleeping around. My friends all knew it before I did. Tim was the only one with the guts to finally tell me about it. I was wounded, I can’t say I wasn’t, and it took a long time before I healed enough to even take a woman to a movie.”

“I knew there was more to your negative attitude about relationships than bad statistics, darling,” Maggie said softly. “I’m sorry you were hurt but I’m glad it happened.”

He chuckled. “Want to know something? So am I.” He kissed her until they were both breathless, then whispered, “I’ve been thinking of a honeymoon in a nice warm place, maybe Hawaii or the Bahamas. What do you think?”

“A honeymoon?” Maggie leaped up from her spot on the sofa and straddled his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes…yes…yes!”

“Looks like we’re going to get married,” Josh said with a big grin.

All Maggie could manage was another “Yes!”