Page 30 of Dark Terror
“We’ll do that tomorrow. Anything else?”
“Yes, but it’s the dry stuff. The company’s value, jobs they’ve done and have going, a list of all the personnel. It’s all in the report I’ll e-mail you.”
“Thanks. You’ve saved us a lot of work.”
“There is something else. Hold on a sec and let me find the page.”
While she was doing that, Gabe picked up their plates and carried them to the sink. The dog followed him in, and he glanced down at the hopeful fellow staring up at him.
“Don’t look at me. You have food in your dish.” Cricket wagged his tail. “Fine. You win this round.” He took a treat out of the container Cara had brought with her and tossed it to the dog.
Cara had become attached to the little guy, and Cricket to her. They both were going to be disappointed if any of Sheri Carstad’s family turned up and wanted him. Maybe they wouldn’t want an ugly bug-eyed, tongue-hanging-out dog whose fur stuck out every which way, looking like he’d stuck his paw in an electrical outlet. He didn’t like the thought of Cara being sad if Cricket was taken away from her.
“Come tell me if you see what I do,” Cara said. He moved behind her to see that she had logged on to Facebook and had brought up Sheri’s page. The photo on the screen was Sheri at what appeared to be a black-tie event.
Sheri was even more stunning in this photo than the one he’d seen in her apartment. Wearing a slinky red dress, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, she stood next to a man Gabe recognized from the news. Colorado state senator John Winslow, known for his stance on family values and his hard line on criminals.
Cara glanced up at him. “This was a party celebrating his reelection last year. Sheri worked on his campaign.”
“How do you know that?” He was standing close enough to her that their arms brushed as he leaned in to study the photo, close enough to catch her scent. The desire to bury his nose against her neck and breathe her in was so overwhelming that he took a step away. She’d described the ylang ylang as an aphrodisiac and erotic, and he sure as hell could attest to that.
“There are more photos of her working at his campaign headquarters. I’ll show those to you in a sec. But look at this picture and tell me what you see.”
It took a moment before he saw it. “Two things. She’s looking up at him with stars in her eyes, and he has his hand on her lower back… real low.” The senator’s fingers were skimming the top of Sheri Carstad’s ass. Gabe would bet his paycheck the senator hadn’t known someone was taking that picture.
“Yeah, lower than any man who’s married should be touching another woman.”
Looked like they had their first suspect. “Good job, Cara.” Without thinking, he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
She looked up at him, those gold flecks shimmering with pleasure, and he realized right then—confirming what he honestly already knew—that he was in trouble where this woman was concerned.
Chapter Eleven
Cara pounded her pillow into a different shape. She groaned when she looked at the clock to see it was approaching midnight. Falling asleep had never been a problem before, but the last two nights she’d tossed and turned, only sleeping in spurts.
As a morning person, she was in bed no later than eleven and up with the sun. Her favorite part of her day was sitting on her back deck with a cup of mint tea and watching the sunrise while perusing her Facebook newsfeed, looking for cute pictures of puppies and kittens.
It was a habit she’d started after her brother had died, when she’d been so sad and depressed that she hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. Desperate to find something that could make her smile again, she’d discovered that it was impossible not to smile at photos of baby animals.
Giving up on sleep, she got out of bed. Cricket jumped up from his spot at her feet, his tail sweeping the cover. “Shh. We’re going to go watch TV, and you have to be quiet.” She picked him up and, barefoot, headed for the living room. Gabe’s door was closed, and all the lights were off with the exception of a few night-lights here and there plugged into sockets.
After lunch he’d holed up in his office again. Dinner had been delivery pizza, and he’d piled four slices onto a plate, grabbed a beer, and mumbled something about more work before disappearing to his office. Cara accepted that he was avoiding her, and that didn’t hurt her feelings. If he wasn’t attracted to her, he wouldn’t be hiding from her.
From the little she’d picked up about him, he took his job seriously. Having the hots for his witness wouldn’t be something Gabe would be happy about. It didn’t help that Harry didn’t approve and had called him out on it.
Or she could be totally wrong and their kiss hadn’t meant a thing to him.
She turned on the TV and muted the sound before channel surfing. “Oh, look, Cricket. The Rockies are tied in the twelfth.”
In the middle of the thirteenth inning Gabe walked by, going toward the kitchen. He stopped and turned, his gaze landing on her. “You’re up.”
“Appears so.” Mother of all that was holy, wearing only red boxer briefs, his hair mussed, the man was the hottest thing she’d ever been blessed to see.
“Ah…” He glanced down at himself, mumbled something incoherent, then disappeared back down the hallway.
“Okay,” she whispered. That picture would be imprinted on her mind forever. Too bad he hadn’t stuck around a little longer. A few minutes later he returned, wearing sweats and a loose T-shirt. That was a darn shame, but her heart still fluttered when he sat on the opposite side of the sofa.
“What’s the score?” He squinted at the TV.
