“Explain how either your blood or hair got to the church, and all over Todd.”
“What?” Shocked, Torie just stared at him. “My blood? My hair?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
“But I haven’t even seen Todd in six months. I wasn’t supposed to see him until Friday night. How could anything of mine be anywhere near Todd? I don’t even have a cut.” Torie looked at her hands, thinking that surely she’d see something, hear something that made some sense, because nothing Paul was saying made any.
“I don’t know. Officially, I don’t know that much. They want you to submit to a voluntary DNA sampling. That tells me there’s either blood or hair, and I’d think that if they want DNA, it’s probably blood.”
“But, I haven’t been anywhere near Todd. I haven’t bled on anything of his. What?”
Paul was pointing at her arm. A long shallow scratch showed through the gap at her wrist. “How’d you get that?”
“I think I got it when I fell on my deck after the explosion. I have a bunch of cuts on my shoulders and back, too, from the flying glass.”
There was a quaver in her voice and she fought to suppress it. She’d gotten that particular cut on her little mission with Pam. Their creepy little escapade was taking on a more sinister tone with each passing day. She wished now that she’d told the officers about it, despite the fact that it wasn’t legal. In the face of murder charges, it was definitely the lesser of the evils.
Then again, since she did have cuts and scrapes virtually everywhere from the explosion, it was logical.
“Give blood recently?”
“Yeah, you know I did. You and all your staff went that day, too, to the Chamber blood drive. I saw Melvin Jr. and Pratt Sr. there. Melvin was volunteering, wasn’t he?”
Paul flipped open his calendar, noted the date. “Yeah, Pratt Sr. set that up as a fund-raiser. Nearly two weeks ago. Blood doesn’t last that long, so maybe my contact’s wrong. It could be hair, or skin, or something. Who knows. But,” he said as he turned back to her, “that’s one thing they’re asking for. The other is a detailed, written time line of your activities that day. Also, they want to know more about this whole Black Widow thing.” Paul leaned forward, but his dark eyes gave away none of his feelings. “What’s that about, Torie? Where’d they get this idea about you being some kind of man-eater?”
“Oh, Lord. Paul, it’s been going on since Todd and I split up. I’m cursed. I know it,” she said, shaking her head at the disbelief written on his features. “It sounds absolutely nuts. But ever since the wedding, or the not-wedding, it’s been this way. Anyone I go out with, no matter how casually, ends up getting hurt in some way.”
As thoroughly as she could, she told him what had happened to her dates, especially Christian. She told him about the officer who’d asked her all about it as well. “The only thing I can think of is that that guy, Tibbet, told the press. I don’t know, Paul. All I know is that I gave up on dating. I refused to even go out to dinner with my cousin just before my house got torched. Before he got back to the conference center, he was attacked.”
“Damn. That’s crazy, Torie.”
“I know. It sounds insane. I mean, who am I? Why the hell would someone obsess over me?” The look Paul gave her was so strange, it made her shiver. “What? What do you know?”
“Nothing. It’s just that Todd has had terrible luck ever since he won the money. Every time he came home to Philly, he’d have problems. His car windows were smashed one night. Someone slashed the tires another time. It ranged from nuisance stuff, like the rental car getting key-scratched, to the smash-up incident. And he’d always have trouble wherever he stayed, even the Ritz. He’d come back to his room, and there’d be no towels. Or all the linens would be gone off the bed and the mattress would be on the balcony. It was weird.”
“He never mentioned any of that to me.”
“I wonder why. I guess he didn’t want to worry you.”
“That would be like him,” Torie agreed. It was all she could do not to cry. Paul seemed oblivious to her wavery answer.
“I know you’re tired, but here’s what I need you to do,” he said, pulling a lined yellow pad out of a desk drawer. “Take this, and list every event, every time something happened to you or to someone else. I kept a list of the things that happened to Todd. We need to compare them, see if there’s a pattern.”
“A pattern?” Torie was so tired, so confused, that it didn’t make sense.
“Yes, yes, a pattern,” Paul insisted. “If there was someone after both of you, it makes this good evidence that you weren’t after Todd, but that someone is after both of you.”
“Both of us? But why?”
“We’ll get to that, but for now, just go to the hotel and get started on that list, okay? I’ll send a car for you in the morning, too. Will nine o’clock work?”
Baffled, Torie agreed. She wasn’t expected back at work for another two days, so she could do as he asked. She wasn’t sure she could remember everything without her notes, which were on her computer, which was melted at her house.
“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” Paul asked, as he came around the desk, sitting on the edge nearest her chair.
“Yeah. I didn’t sleep much at the B and B.”
“Hmmm. Well, let’s get you home, such as it is.”
“Thanks.”
Paul didn’t ask any more questions or give her any more instructions before helping her into the dark sedan that pulled to the curb in front of his office. “I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll go over the list, okay?”
“Okay.”
Paul started to say something, then stopped. Instead, he bestowed an awkward pat on her shoulder, and shut the car door.
Paul had given the car service the address, so Torie didn’t have to do anything, which was good. She was wrung out.
At the apartment, she offered to pay the driver, but he declined, saying Paul had taken care of it. He helped her with her luggage, pulling the larger suitcase from the trunk and popping the handle up so she could set her carry-on bag on top and wheel them both behind her. She bid him good night as she turned toward the building.
The shattering of the sedan’s car windshield had her spinning around, but she immediately obeyed the driver’s shout: “Get down!”
Chapter Five
“Stay down,” the driver yelled again, motioning her over to the car. He was simultaneously yelling into his cell phone, giving the address of the Extended Suites, and babbling about gunfire.
In shock, Torie stared at the pile of pebbled glass at her feet. Her skirt was sprinkled with the octagonal shards, darkly tinted and jagged.
“Shit!” the driver said as two more thwacking pops sounded.
Torie had no idea what the sound was. “What’s happening? Why did the windows break?”
The driver looked at her like she was insane. “That’s gunshots, lady.”
“What? Gunshots?”
“Gunshots. I’m a South Philly boy, born and raised. If I tell you somebody’s shooting at us, then somebody’s shooting.”
“Good God!” Torie gasped, frantically looking around.
“Stay down,” the man hissed. “Cops’re coming but we don’t know where this guy is. He may be gone, but we can’t take a chance.”
No sooner had the words left his lips, than another snick and pop sounded, and she smelled a hard, sharp scent.
“Move!” The driver was up and running for the dubious safety of the building. “C’mon, lady!” he yelled over his shoulder. “That hit under the hood, it could blow!”
Blow? Shit. As in blow up?
Still dragging her bags, she sprinted after the driver. She stumbled and fell as she passed him, scrambling up to huddle under the metal stairs. Her knees stung, as did her hands, but she dug out her own cell phone. Her fingers were shaking so badly she misdialed four times, but the sound of sirens helped her steady.