Ricochet Read Online Free PDF Page B

hair. Facing the mirror, she smiled at her husband’s reflection. “He asked if I had change. He needed to tip the parking valet and didn’t have any bills smaller than a ten.”
    “He only asked for change?”
    “Hmm.” Reaching behind her she tried to undo the clasp of the diamond brooch at the small of her back. “Could you help me here, please?”
    Cato left the bed and moved up behind her. He unfastened the clasp, pulled the pin from the black silk with care, then handed her the brooch and placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently. “Did Hatcher address you by name?”
    “I honestly don’t remember. Why? Who is he?”
    “He’s a homicide detective.”
    “Savannah police?”
    “A decorated hero with a master’s degree in criminology. He has brains and brawn.”
    “Impressive.”
    “Up till now he’s been an exemplary officer.”
    “Till now?”
    “He testified in my court this week. Murder trial. When circumstances forced me to declare a mistrial, he lost his temper. Became vituperative. I found him in contempt and sentenced him to two days in jail. He was released just this afternoon.”
    She laughed softly. “Then I’m sure he didn’t know who I was. If he had, he would have avoided speaking to me.” She took off her earrings. “Was the woman with him his wife?”
    “Police partner. I don’t believe he’s married.” He slipped the dress off Elise’s shoulders, sliding the fabric down her arms, baring her to the waist. He studied her in the mirror. “I guess I can’t blame the man for trying.”
    “He didn’t
try
anything, Cato. He asked me for change.”
    “There were other people he could have asked, but he asked you.” Reaching around her, he took the weight of her breasts in his palms. “I thought he might have recognized you, that you might have met before.”
    Meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, she said, “I suppose it’s possible, but if so, I don’t remember it. I wouldn’t have remembered speaking to him tonight if you hadn’t brought it up.”
    “Untrimmed dirty-blond hair isn’t attractive to you? That shaggy, scruffy look doesn’t appeal?”
    “I much prefer graying temples and smoother shaves.”
    The zipper at the back of her dress was short. He smiled into the mirror as he pulled it down, following the cleft between her buttocks, then pushed the dress to the floor, leaving her in only a black lace thong. He turned her to face him. “This is the best part of these dull evenings out. Coming home with you.” He looked at her, waiting. “No comment?”
    “I have to say it? You know I feel the same.”
    Taking her hand, he folded it around his erection. “I lied, Elise,” he whispered as he guided her motions. “This is the best part.”
     
     
    A half hour later, she eased herself from the bed, padded to the closet for a robe, and pulled it on. She paused briefly at her dressing table, then went to the door. It creaked when she pulled it open. She looked back toward the bed. Cato didn’t stir.
    She slipped from the room and tiptoed downstairs. Her insomnia concerned him. Sometimes he would come downstairs and find her on the sofa in the den, watching a DVD of one of her favorite movies. Sometimes she was reading in the living room, sometimes sitting in the sunroom, staring out at the lighted swimming pool.
    He sympathized with her sleeplessness and urged her to get medication to help remedy it. He chided her for leaving their bed without waking him when he might have helped soothe her into sleep.
    Recently she had begun to wonder if his concern was over the insomnia, or her nocturnal prowls through the house.
    A night-light was left on in the kitchen, but the route was so familiar she could have found her way without it. Whatever else she did when she came downstairs, she always poured herself a glass of milk, which she claimed helped, and left the empty glass in the sink to ensure never being caught in a lie.
    Standing at the sink, sipping the