She gave him an icy glare. “That’s not a very good suggestion.”
“It’s the only workable solution.” Trammell countered her glare with a gentle smile. “I know it isn’t ideal, but it’s a compromise that will work, if you’ll let it. Dane won’t take you into protective custody, but I can tell you right now that the chief will order it and not blink an eye.”
Frustrated fury welled up in her, almost choking her. She didn’t want to stay in Dane’s house, didn’t want to be forced into intimacy with him. But Trammell, unfortunately, was right; the chief didn’t know her, and wouldn’t think twice about ordering her detained, for her own good.
“Trammell’s wrong,” Dane said softly, breaking into the silence. He met her angry gaze without blinking. “I will take you into custody. You might hate my guts for it, but I’ll do it if I have to. It’s better than risking your life. So, honey, it’s my house or jail.”
Stated like that, she accepted that she had no choice. The move was swiftly accomplished. Marlie took the time to thank Beverly for the risk she was taking, and to show her around the house, then she was hustled out. She insisted on taking her car, so it was a caravan of three that parked at Dane’s house not long afterward.
Dane had seen the completed changes Trammell had wrought in his house, and considered the money well spent. The new furniture was both comfortable and chic; his living room now felt like a patio, with the same sense of freshness and space. His bed was the one thing in the house that had been fairly new; he’d replaced his grandparents’ standard double with a king-size when he inherited the house. The only reason he had endured the double bed at Marlie’s these past weeks was the fact that she had been in it. For that, he had been content to have his feet hang off the end.
If he had had any hope of sharing that big bed with her now, it disappeared when she resolutely carried her clothes into the second bedroom, which had also received Trammell’s sprucing up. Still he was fiercely elated. She was here; that was what mattered. She obviously wanted to make a complete break with him, but circumstances had conspired against her, and she was forced to stay with him. He would have the chance to break down that wall of anger.
Again Grace helped Marlie with her clothes. They worked quietly together for several minutes before Grace said, “You’re really angry at him, aren’t you?”
“Anger doesn’t begin to describe it. Not only did he set me up, that was his reason from the beginning for getting involved with me.”
Grace looked shocked. “That can’t be so!”
“Can’t it? He didn’t deny planning it before he moved in with me.”
“But Alex has been positively gleeful because Dane is so obviously crazy about you. Surely you know that he loves you!”
“If he does, he’s never even come close to saying it. In fact, we’ve never discussed our relationship at all, except for sex. I’m beginning to think that’s all it ever was, just sex. He had this plan of his, and as a side benefit I happened to be acceptable in bed.”
Grace thought about it. “You’ve never talked about your feelings at all?”
“Not one word. I called him when a vision started, he came over and took care of me, and simply never left. The next thing I knew, he was hanging up his clothes in my closet.”
“I see. Even on our first date, Alex admitted that emotionally he was in deep water,” Grace murmured. “And Alex is the most skittish man in the world.” She thought about it some more, then pronounced: “You’re right. On the evidence, you have to assume that Dane deliberately became involved with you to gain your trust, and moved in with you to stay close to the action, so to speak.”
“In a nutshell, he used me.”
When Grace left the bedroom, she gave Dane a frosty glare. Trammell caught his partner’s eye and shrugged in amusement. Dane didn’t think it was a damn bit funny. He didn’t protest when they left; the sooner he and Marlie were alone, the sooner he could begin mending fences. God, what if he couldn’t change her mind?
At the thought of losing her forever, he felt a cold knot of panic form in the pit of his stomach.
Marlie finally came out of the bedroom to watch the local evening news. As she had expected, she was the lead story.
“WVTM learned today that the Orlando Police Department has been using the services of a local psychic, Marlie Keen, to aid them in their search for the Orlando Slasher. WVTM reporter Cheri Vaughn talked to Ms. Keen earlier today, when she and a city detective were seen leaving the house of the latest victim, Marilyn Elrod, who lived in Wildwood Estates.”
The picture switched from the studio to the tape shot earlier. Marlie watched in silence for a minute, then said, “You played it perfectly. The way you told them to leave, and kept stepping in front of me, looked exactly as if you were trying to keep me under wraps. Do you think I came across as a publicity-hungry kook?”
“Not quite,” he muttered. At least she was talking to him. He had been worried that she would give him the silent treatment for the rest of his life. No, she hadn’t come across as a kook, at least not to anyone with an ounce of perception. There had been too much controlled anger in her face, too much disgust when she had described the killer.
The next scene featured Lieutenant Bonness, sweating in the heat, looking properly embarrassed. Dane had briefed him on how to play it. Bonness wasn’t comfortable with what he was doing, but his discomfort fit in with what he wanted to project. Yes, Marlie Keen had contacted them. They were willing to listen to anyone who might be able to help them with the investigation. Ms. Keen’s allegations hadn’t panned out, though, and the Orlando PD would no longer be working with her.