Fair Game Inc Part 11

John BarlowAEs obsessively ordered files lay in haphazard piles around the office as government auditors as well as the lawyers hired by Grayson and the law firm of Belaoussoff, Bekar, Karulis and Lacey struggled to determine whether or not a crime had been committed.

The phone rang incessantly with concerned clients calling for rea.s.surance. Everyone wanted to talk to Grayson. A few called for Barlow, but with all his business transactions for the past few years under scrutiny, he was barred from the office.

Still no charges had been filed. Which meant that John Barlow was free to sit in his home office within reach of his telephone and spread rumors about his partner, Grayson Charles.

Which of course led to more phone calls, deeper investigation. More files strewn around the office of Barlow and Charles, more lines of worry etched in GraysonAEs face when he staggered home at night.

Grayson had Amber working full-time on his own investigation of Barlow, delving years into the past. What she suspected would be painful for him to deal with. HeAEd always thought BarlowAEs partnership was a congenial one. But if her hunch proved true, it had been Barlow who profited from the work of Gordon Charles and not the other way around. No wonder Grayson worried about his motherAEs retirement. No wonder heAEd felt pressured to work hard to strengthen his fatherAEs legacy. Amber suspected Barlow had been siphoning off money from Barlow and Charles from the very beginning.

All she needed was proof. Proof that would vindicate Grayson and his late father. Proof to hold John Barlow accountable for his crimes. ****

Amber stole a glance in her rearview mirror and frowned. There it was again, the same battered brown car that had dogged her since she left the city.

Merely another commuter, sheAEd a.s.sumed at first. Someone else taking the highway to one of the bedroom communities north of the city. But when sheAEd failed to lose him on the twisting country roads, now made slick by rain rapidly turning to ice, old instincts caused the hair on the back of her neck to p.r.i.c.kle with anxiety.

She knew when she was being followed. SheAEd done it enough times herself to know the signs. Keep a few cars back. Change lanes to make it look random, closer now, then further away. And donAEt tail someone in a flashy car with vanity plates or theyAEll be sure to spot you.

Still, sheAEd noted the brown Ford with the chipped fender easily enough. If he turned off in the next five minutes, sheAEd chalk it up to nerves. If not, then she was definitely being followed and she wanted to know by whom.

Amber lifted her foot from the gas pedal, slowing enough to coast back a couple of car lengths, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was driving the Ford. But it pulled in behind an eighteen-wheeler disappeared from view.

Someone working for John Barlow maybe. But Barlow already knew Amber and Grayson were a couple. And being a partner in the firm, he would certainly know where Grayson lived.

A disquieting thought occurred to her. What if it wasnAEt anyone working for Barlow? Her shadow could be someone sheAEd angered. An enemy sheAEd made in Fair GameAEs day to day business of revenge.

In a divorce case the parties were too angry with each other to worry about the private investigator who took the incriminating pictures. But Fair Game brought things down to a personal level.

Had she angered someone enough to plan their own revenge? SheAEd a.s.sumed the vivisected mouse, the slashed tire and the angry note were ploys of John BarlowAEs to keep her away from Grayson and the secrets in the filing cabinets at Fair Game.

But what if they werenAEt?

The turnoff to GraysonAEs house wound away in the distance. Should she keep driving to throw the brown Ford off her trail?

The road narrowed to one meandering lane of traffic each way. Tearing her eyes from the slick pavement, Amber checked her mirror again, and caught a glimpse of brown, outlined against the line of bare trees by the side of the road. Still there, two cars back. She looked again at the turnoff, realizing with a sinking feeling that it led only to more secluded country roads before it reached GraysonAEs house. Private Investigator instincts went to work. A woman alone in a car could be easily forced off the road. Was that what the person in the car tailing intended? She had about two seconds to make her decision, or sheAEd be past the turnoff and committed to traveling more country roads alone.

In a splash of gravel and ice, the Ford pulled out from behind, racing against the on-coming traffic to pa.s.s her. A wave of dirty water stole her vision as it pa.s.sed, destroying all chances of catching a glimpse of the driver.

When the wipers had cleared the windshield of muddy water, the battered Ford was no longer in view. Amber sagged against the seat in relief. Not following her after all.

Turning off the highway, she headed for the sanctuary of GraysonAEs house.

Hours later, and still Grayson hadnAEt arrived.

Amber lay in his loft bed, watching the play of candlelight across the sloping ceiling. Her laptop beeped, signaling the end of its battery power. Giving up on work, she turned off the computer.

According to the radio, freezing rain snarled traffic for miles. She hated to think what it had done to the hairpin turns that branched off from the highway. Crossing to the window, she gazed out into the darkness. No glow of headlights broke the woven blackness of trees and road. No distant rumble of a car motor could be heard above the staccato beat of ice pellets against the roof.

They should have both stayed at her apartment in town. But during the past few weeks sheAEd practically lived at GraysonAEs, and the arrangement seemed to suit him fine. Why didnAEt she just move in with him? he argued whenever the topic arose.

So why didnAEt she?

With a sigh, she took the ladder downstairs to make hot chocolate. It was obvious she wouldnAEt be getting any sleep until Grayson arrived home safely.

But her doubts followed her down to the kitchen. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the flames from the fireplace.

Doubts danced in their wake. She couldnAEt dispel the feeling that there was something left uncompleted, some vital clue in the investigation with Barlow that sheAEd overlooked. The answer to who might be following her, who she might have angered, lingered just beyond conscious reach. If she thought about it long enough, it would come to her. But the notion drifted away from her replaced by that other worry.

Commitment Phobia, Sandy had p.r.o.nounced it. oItAEs your fear of repeating that last devastating relationship,o she insisted. Amber reflected darkly that RogerAEs intended deserved to be granted a doctorate in pop psychology in deference to the number of self-help books sheAEd devoured trying to lure the reluctant Roger to the altar. But maybe Sandy was right. Cold dread settled in her stomach every time she thought of saying aeI doAE.

Still that didnAEt explain the nightmares or the constant feeling of being watched. It didnAEt explain a lot of things, Amber thought taking the kettle off the stove.

The sound of a key in the lock nearly sent a wave of scalding water splashing across the floor.

oWhatAEs wrong?o Grayson asked, taking in the look of panic on her face, the kettle she brandished like a weapon. oYou look spooked.o All those doubts, the tale of her harrowing trip home lingered on the tip of her tongue. Amber choked them back. Grayson looked exhausted. No sense worrying him until she knew for certain they were in danger. Spoken out loud it all sounded so ... paranoid.

oYou startled me, thatAEs all.o She tried to force some levity into her voice and failed.

Grayson didnAEt seem to notice. From the set of his jaw and the crease between his eyebrows, she could tell his worries about Barlow and Charles had followed him home.

oHot chocolate?o she asked.

He smiled weakly. oThanks, but I think I better just hit the sack.o Brushing his lips briefly against her temple, he climbed the ladder to the loft and did just that.

Amber heard not a sound from him as she finished her hot chocolate. But when she climbed the ladder and slid back into his wide bed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, spoon-like. She could feel the tension in him, his body taut, even though heAEd supposedly been asleep for half an hour.

oIAEve been thinking.-..o Oh oh. Amber felt her stomach clench, ready to deal with another problem, another worry. Grayson never said heAEd been thinking, unless he had been thinking. About something important. About their future together, about the firm, either way it meant a heavy late-night discussion instead of reflecting on her paranoia in the sobering light of morning after a good nightAEs sleep.

She twisted around so she could see his face, then burrowed into the crook between his neck and shoulder. oGrayson, youAEre exhausted, you should go to sleep.o He pulled her closer still. She felt every inch of tight muscle pressed against her. If he did that again, sheAEd lose the capacity for intellectual thought. oIAEve been thinking about us,o Grayson finished.

Her warm languid thoughts cooled into a tight knot in her stomach. But Grayson didnAEt seem to notice. Rough stubble brushed her ear as he buried his face in her hair. oI keeping thinking when all of this is over we should make this a permanent kind of arrangement. But then tonight when I was slogging through all the work that needed to be done yesterday, I got to thinking, why wait? YouAEre the one thing that is going right in my life.o Yes! part of her cried out silently. Marry me, love me, protect me. She almost said the words, but then her breath caught in her chest. Her heart skipped a beat then resumed thudding rapid fire. She dragged in a breath past the constriction in her chest, knowing in some rational part of her mind it was only her body betraying her, acting out its warning she was in danger of being hurt.

Why did GraysonAEs proposal, something she desired more than anything else in the world feel so much like EricAEs rejection? Why when the man she loved had just proposed did she feel exactly as she felt when her fiancT betrayed her days before their wedding?

That old panic triggered new ones, tightening her chest further, stopping her from accepting GraysonAEs offer of a lifelong commitment to her.

Played out in her mind, she watched her father leave, saw his shape receding as he walked out the door. She heard her motherAEs bitter warning, oThatAEs what happens when you combine your destiny with a manAEs. You get hurt.o Amber squeezed her eyes shut, but the images just kept coming.

oItAEs just not working for me,o Eric leered from that dark spot in her mind where she kept her deepest hurt. She still had a silk and lace wedding dress in the back of her closet to show for her pain.

But Grayson is different, her heart insisted.

You thought Eric was different her mind replied. SheAEd trusted him, loved him, and in the end heAEd walked away with his new love leaving her with a broken heart, a failing business and a ma.s.sive catering bill.

oAmber?o She jolted back to her senses her heart still racing. Grayson looked intently into her face. How long had she kept him waiting for an answer to his proposal?

oA permanent kind of thing?o she asked, stalling to catch her breath. oLike moving in together?o oA permanent kind of thing like moving in together permanently, forever.o Calm down, she ordered herself. Her body refused to cooperate. She had to find a way out of this conversation to buy herself time to straighten out her tangled feelings. Time to relieve the terror that insisted this time she was setting herself up to be irretrievably hurt.

Because she loved Grayson. More than sheAEd ever loved anyone else in her life.

The crease between his eyebrows deepened. He drew the wrong conclusions from her silence, but she could barely spare oxygen to breathe instead of rea.s.suring him.

oA permanent kind of thing, like getting married,o Grayson finished, as if she needed clarification.

They couldnAEt have this conversation now, not with her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her stomach clenched into a tight ball. She needed time to convince herself Grayson wasnAEt Eric. In desperation she settled on the first excuse that leapt to mind. oShould we be thinking about this now?o The words came out more harshly than she meant them to. oI mean weAEre both under so much stress. YouAEve got the problems at firm to deal with and my business isnAEt going well, except for the work youAEre giving me, and I donAEt know how much longer you can realistically afford to do that--o oYes! I do think we should be discussing this now.o Amber could hear the hurt behind his anger and frustration. oI love you. I want you to be part of my life. Forever.o oI love you, too. And I want to be part of your life, Grayson--o The knot in her stomach wound tighter. Grayson drew entirely the wrong conclusions. The argument s...o...b..lled rapidly out of control. Somehow she had to rectify the situation.

oBut what, Amber?o She heard the coldness seep into his tone as he put up barriers against the rejection he suspected was coming. oIf you donAEt want to marry me, you should just say.o ****

How could he have misread the situation so completely?

Grayson cursed himself silently. HeAEd mistaken AmberAEs contentment with their current situation as a sign she was ready for greater commitment. HeAEd a.s.sumed she shared his dreams for their future together. But instead of his surprise proposal being met with joy, Amber looked about to burst into tears at any moment.

Which could only mean like a fool heAEd risked his heart once again. Well, better to know now than later. Better to have this happen while everything else in his life was falling apart anyway. Grayson prepared himself to be hurt.

oI do want to marry you, Grayson.o Her words cut into his thoughts. With her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with tears, she didnAEt look like she wanted to get married. He levered himself up on one elbow and turned on the light above the bed. oSo what is it then?o oI--IAEd just like to talk about it in the morning thatAEs all. WeAEre both tired and stressed out--o But tonight had held all the magic. When heAEd come home from the nightmare at Barlow & Charles to find her standing in his kitchen wearing that fuzzy robe, heAEd felt that somehow everything in his life would be all right. ThatAEs why heAEd offered such an impulsive proposal of marriage. Now he felt like a total fool. He wanted to cry himself. But he wouldnAEt, heAEd shamed himself enough already. Out of a desperate attempt to soothe his pain and put the situation to rights, he insisted, oIn the morning IAEll be right back in the middle of the mess in my office. I want to discuss it now.o Tears spilled over onto her cheeks, tumbling like pearls onto the duvet. oYou donAEt understand,o she got out, then the words deteriorated into sobs.

Whatever it was, it broke her heart as well he realized, his anger evaporating. He reached for her, pulling her back into his arms. oWhat is it, Amber?o he forced himself to ask gently. oWhat donAEt I understand?o oHow I feel.o She shuddered against him, struggling to say more.

His hand cupped the back of her head. He wound his fingers through her fiery curls, as though by pulling her closer he could somehow shield her from her hurts with his body. oYou can tell me, Amber. ItAEs all right.o oIt sounds so foolish when I say it aloud,o she said. oI want to marry you, Grayson. I love you. IAEm just so afraid of--o oOf what?o he prompted gently, when her words would have dissolved into tears again.

oOf getting hurt again.o He opened his mouth to protest her image of him, but she continued.

oI know it doesnAEt sound much like the Fearless Amber Shaw Private Investigator, Avenger for the Lovelorn, but thatAEs just a stupid image I try to portray. Inside IAEm--o oStill hurting,o he finished for her. oWeAEve both been hurt. But we have to find the strength to try again. ItAEs a hard thing to do, but I thought it was working between us. IAEm prepared to take the risk.o oThis horrible fear I have,o she stammered, oI canAEt make it go away.o oDonAEt you know that I love you, Amber?o Grayson asked, risking her rejection all over again.

oYes, but--o If she loved him, she wouldnAEt have said aebutAE. If she truly loved him, she would have said aeyesAE emphatically. He prepared himself to hear the same string of excuses Melanie had given him. oItAEs not you itAEs me. You really are a nice guy, youAEll make some other woman happy.o Self defense turned his pain to anger. How could she possibly compare him to that lout whoAEd deserted her? He wanted to ease her pain, but at the moment his own overwhelmed him.

oHow can you possibly think IAEd leave you after all weAEve been through together?o he heard himself demanding. oHow can you take the declaration of my love and just throw it back at me?o AmberAEs mouth moved, but no sound came out. She buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, and he was dismayed to feel the hot wetness of her tears soaking the hair on his chest. Now what had he said? All heAEd wanted was confirmation of her love for him. An enthusiastic yes to his clumsy and ill-timed proposal. Somehow heAEd upset her deeply and d.a.m.ned if he knew how. It had always been that way. Roger had always instinctively understood the secret ways of women while Grayson had been obliviously ignorant.

oAmber.o His voice came out rough, as raw as his feelings. oI love you. I want you to be my wife. But if thatAEs not what you want, then you should tell me now.o ****

This wasnAEt how Amber wanted the conversation to go at all. GraysonAEs distress only intensified her own panic. oBut donAEt you see, Grayson?o she stammered past the vice around her chest and the lump in her throat. oAll the men in my life said they loved me. Eric, my father. But they were lying.o Her words sliced through the conversation. She heard GraysonAEs quick intake of breath and winced at her own clumsiness. Bad enough that sheAEd accused him of being untrustworthy, now sheAEd accused him of lying as well.

oOh G.o.d, thatAEs not what I meant,o she moaned. But he thrust her away from him to sit by herself along side him in bed.

oUnderstand one thing,o he said, and she could hear the protective coldness in his voice as he laid out his argument as if he was in court. oIAEm not Eric. IAEm not your father. IAEm not a dishonest man. I offer you my love freely. If you choose not to accept it, then I think youAEre right, we ought to discuss this in the morning.o oBut Grayson--o If the thought of marrying Grayson made her heart pound, the thought of losing him sent a pang of anxiety through her entire body. Somehow, she had to think past her fears, find the right words before she damaged the fragile understanding between them completely.

But he stole the opportunity from her, turning out the light and putting his back to her.

oIn fact,o he said. oI donAEt think we have much to discuss at all.o The hurt in his voice put an end to the conversation. SheAEd asked him for time, and time heAEd given her. So why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like sheAEd lost something irretrievable? A manAEs trust, Amber thought lying silently beside him the dark, listening to the sound of his breathing and the rapid beat of rain. His body lay warm beside her, and she longed to snuggle back into his arms. It didnAEt help when a few hours later, Grayson rolled over in his sleep and drew her closer. Did that mean she was forgiven? That even in his sleep he somehow understood?

Morning dashed her hopes of reconciliation.

Their late night discussion caused them both to sleep late. Cursing at the alarm clock theyAEd slept through, Grayson showered quickly and left the house without breakfast, offering her no more than a curt, oTalk to you later,o on his way out the door.

Amber sat at the kitchen table with a cup of the coffee sheAEd made for him cooling in her hands. Like their argument, last nightAEs storm had pa.s.sed. Weak sunlight streamed through the high windows casting watery yellow streaks across the floor. But unlike the weather, the argument with Grayson only served to muddy things instead of clearing the air. Amber sighed. She should get dressed and go to work, do what she could to salvage Fair Game, Inc. from insolvency. She should do something other than sitting at GraysonAEs table. But she couldnAEt seem to pry herself from the chair.

What would she have without Grayson? she asked herself bitterly. The same as she had when her relationship with Eric had broken up, her mind answered. A failing business and a lifetime of loneliness stretching before her. Only this time it hadnAEt been Eric whoAEd destroyed the relationship. She had done that herself.

oBatting a thousand here, arenAEt we Amber,o she whispered. She wondered idly if she should take her clothes and toothbrush with her when she left today.

Tears stung her eyes, but she sniffed them back, determined to do what she could today to fix the situation as best she could. If things couldnAEt be mended with Grayson, then she had to find a way to salvage Fair Game, Inc. Amber Shaw, Private Investigator did not go down without a fight.

But somehow knowing Grayson had dampened her joy in taking revenge. Getting even on behalf of the lovelorn no longer held the appeal it once had. The thought of spending another moment dwelling on the dark side of love started her heart pounding all over again. Last nightAEs panic attack took the strength from her spine, leaving each limb feeling as if sheAEd run a marathon. DawnAEs gray light tinged the sky by the time sheAEd fallen asleep.

Grimacing around a mouthful of cold coffee, she dumped what was left in the sink and went upstairs to get dressed. Her problems would not be solved by sitting at GraysonAEs kitchen table, Amber rebuked herself.

SheAEd go into work, make an appointment to see her accountant, discuss what could be done about the companyAEs flagging receivables. Perhaps the act of sitting at her desk would nudge her mind toward a solution.

Somehow sheAEd find a way to save both Fair Game and her relationship with Grayson.

Chapter FOURTEEN.

Amber shivered in the frigid air of early dusk. Last nightAEs storm had pa.s.sed, leaving the air clear and crisp with the promise of frost to come. The premature sunset had stolen the last of the sunAEs warming rays. Dried husks of leaves rattled across the sidewalk.

Late autumn always brought depression. The brief days, the bare stalks of trees gray against the sky cast her in a somber mood. Flagging business at Fair Game and the mess at Barlow and Charles amounted to a staggering list of problems. Topped off by her argument with Grayson and her unwanted shadow, it was far too much for one person, Amber decided.

And that was before the meeting with her accountant.

Another month, heAEd warned her. If things didnAEt improve by Christmas, sheAEd be closing the doors of Fair Game forever. Most people didnAEt have an urgent need for Private Investigators in December, she thought darkly. They were too busy enjoying the holiday.

The prospect of another heart-wrenching talk with Grayson only served to sour her mood further. Somehow she had to mend the rift between them, find the words that would make it all right when all others had failed.

That, or spend another Christmas eating a turkey TV dinner alone.

But Grayson had been out when she arrived. A thick file folder and a list of scrawled instructions greeted her instead. The disorder at the firm only nagged at her already frazzled thoughts. The offices of Barlow & Charles were no place to have a personal conversation, Amber decided. Leaving a note for Grayson to call her later, she gathered up the folder and headed for her own apartment.

Rush hour traffic had appropriated most of the curb side parking when she had arrived, forcing Amber to park several blocks from GraysonAEs office. She didnAEt mind the walk in the brisk sun of afternoon, but the empty sidewalks seemed somehow sinister in the thickening darkness.

Dark thoughts occupied so much of her mind, Amber almost missed the soft patter on the pavement behind her. She slowed her pace, listening again for the soft tread of rubber soled shoes behind her.

Events swirled in her mind, the pieces of the puzzle taking shape. The dead mouse, the flat tire, mysterious car following her home, the constant sense of being followed. What was the common piece of the puzzle? What buried clue had she missed?

A stone ricocheted off the payment behind her. She heard a smothered curse.

Not again, she prayed silently. Not tonight when IAEm already tired.

She listened intently, straining to hear over the rattle of leaves against the sidewalk. Sure enough--nearly buried beneath the rough hiss of the leaves, she heard the regular tread of footsteps moving toward her.

Amber squinted into the shadows between the streetlights. Her car was parked in the next block. Rummaging in her purse, her fingers closed around the cold metal of her keys, as much to use as a weapon as a quick entry to her car. Trying to appear nonchalant, she glanced behind her.