Secure Location - By Beverly Long Page 0,1

half the patio. Knowing that he’d always been too good at simply looking at her and knowing what she was thinking, she moved behind her desk and turned to the window.

The River Walk was coming to life. By early evening, the stone walkways would be filled with tourists. Music would pour out of buildings. Lovers would stroll in the moonlight, hand in hand, their faces close.

She always pulled the drapes at night. It was easier. “I’ll send them a card,” she murmured.

“You do that.” He stared at her. “But don’t you have bigger things to worry about?”

Damn. It was what she’d been afraid of since she’d seen him standing in the doorway. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about?” she hedged.

“Oh, I think you do. I got a telephone call yesterday from the San Antonio Police Department. They were interested in what I’d been doing for the last couple of weeks. Once I convinced them that I’d been working my ass off in Chicago, they were a little more forthcoming. Professional courtesy and all.”

She turned and faced him. “I didn’t send them looking for you. I didn’t even tell them about you.”

“That became abundantly clear when I talked with them. And you know what?” he asked, his voice louder now. “That’s what really got to me. Don’t you think I’d want to know that my wife was getting death threats?”

“Ex-wife, Cruz.”

“I read the fine print,” he replied, his tone full of sarcasm. “What the hell is going on, Meg?”

She wished she knew. “It’s nothing. A few threats, that’s all.”

“Detective Myers said your boss told them you had an ex-husband who might have a reason to be pissed off.”

“I never suggested that and I certainly didn’t ask Scott to say anything. I guess he’s...he’s more worried than I thought.”

“Of course,” Cruz said, his tone mocking.

She understood. After all, she’d deliberately let Cruz believe the worst, that she’d followed Scott to San Antonio because they were more than colleagues. She’d had no choice. She wasn’t going to tell him the truth. Ever. “Did the police ask you to come here?”

“No. I did let Detective Myers know that I was coming. Professional—”

“Courtesy,” she finished. “I got it. Well, your timing is bad. I was just on my way out.”

He looked at the pile of salad on her desk. “Really?”

“Shopping,” she said. He hated to shop.

Grabbing her suit jacket off the back of her chair, she stuffed her arms through the sleeves. It was a hundred in the shade but she didn’t care. She needed armor. Once she was safely in the car, away from him, she’d yank it off, crank up the air-conditioning, blast the Boss on her CD player and forget about it all.

With deliberate strides, she walked past him. She offered up a prayer to the office gods that Charlotte was still at lunch. She didn’t want to have to make introductions.

The executive offices flanked the lobby on the left and right sides. VPs of Finance and Purchasing next to her; Guest Services and Facilities on the other side. All of them reported to Scott, who claimed a corner of the third floor as his own.

Her heels echoed softly on the slate floor as she walked down the side hallway. He followed, a half step behind. She wondered if that was deliberate. Did he limp? Was he trying to hide it from her? She couldn’t look without making it obvious.

A sharp right would take her past the guest elevators and concierge. She veered left, heading straight for the service elevator that would take her to the parking garage.

The elevator was empty. She got in and he followed. He stood close to her, as if it was okay to breach her personal space. She edged away, until her back hit the wall. Then she had to reach past him to punch B.

“Where do you park?” he asked.

“Where all employees park. In the lower level lot.”

He didn’t answer. When the door opened, he moved fast. He held up a hand, stopping her.

“Oh, good grief. It’s very safe,” she said. “There are security cameras everywhere.”

He rolled his eyes. “And if this is like most parking lots, there’s nobody actually watching them. So all the good they’ll do is maybe, if you’re really lucky, they’ll catch your attacker on tape. Excellent evidence and all but if you’re already dead, it’s not going to be that much help to you.”

She didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she pointed to the far left side. “After you,”