Suddenly One Summer (FBI/US Attorney #6)(17)

The doors sprang open at the thirty-third floor.

“Coming out!” she said, a tad too vehemently. To cover, she smiled as she slid past the other passengers—Nothing to see here—trying to appear normal and casual as she hurried out.

Then she stood in front of the glass doors marked Victoria Slade & Associates, and exhaled as the elevator doors slid closed behind her.

“Hey, you.”

She jumped at the sound of the voice, and saw Will waiting for an elevator heading down. “Hi.” Her voice sounded unnaturally bright.

Will cocked his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Sure.” She realized she was sweating a little under her suit jacket. Lovely. “I, uh . . . was in a rush walking back from court. I have that conference call at eleven, right? Didn’t want to miss it.”

“The call is at eleven thirty.”

Dammit. For once, couldn’t the man not be so organized and on top of her schedule?

“Right. Eleven thirty,” she said. “Well. Guess I didn’t need to rush, after all, heh, heh.”

The chuckle was probably overkill.

Luckily, Will’s elevator arrived, so with a casual wave she headed through the glass doors, nodded hello at the receptionist, and strode down the hallway to her corner office. She smiled as she passed by her associates’ offices, deliberately exuding confidence—yes, I am still your fearless leader; no, I did not just freak out trying to ride a stupid elevator—and then she shut the door when she got to her office and sank down into her desk chair.

After that experience, it looked like she’d be spending tomorrow afternoon with the good doctor, after all.

* * *

KNOCK, KNOCK.

The noise, coming from the front door, immediately woke Victoria. She sat up in bed and quickly got her bearings. According to the clock, it was nearly one A.M. Who the heck was knocking at her door?

When she couldn’t come up with an answer, her heart began to beat faster.

Dangerous intruders don’t knock, she reassured herself. Unless . . . what if this was some kind of trick to see if she was home, and maybe if she didn’t answer the door, whoever was outside would break in to steal stuff?

Another knock.

Victoria hopped out of bed, scooped her phone off the nightstand, and shoved it into the pocket of her pajama pants. Then she grabbed the baseball bat she kept underneath her bed and carried it with two hands into the living room, feeling a rush of both fear and adrenaline. The hell with this. This was her place and she was sick of weird stuff happening at night and she was not going to end up trapped and helpless in a goddamn closet this time.

The hallway outside was lit, and she saw a shadow move in the light filtering in underneath her front door. On second thought . . . She pulled the cell phone out of her pocket, keyed in 9-1-1, and positioned her thumb to hit send. With the bat still in her right hand, she crept carefully to the front door and peeked through the peephole.

A woman stood outside.

Victoria exhaled in relief. Upon closer examination, she realized it was the brunette she’d seen coming out of F. Dixon’s apartment last Saturday morning. The woman raised her hand, as if to knock on the door again, then paused and bit her lip.

Instinct took over. Thinking perhaps the woman needed some kind of help, Victoria deactivated her security alarm. She set the baseball bat against the wall, and opened her door.

The other woman was dressed for a night out in a black top, skirt, and heels. She teetered slightly and blinked when she saw Victoria. “Wait, I know you. You’re his neighbor. Are you two hooking up already?” She paused, and her eyes widened in realization. “Oh my God, you’re the neighbor. I knocked on the wrong door, didn’t I? Crap, I’m so sorry. I was looking for Ford.”

Ford.

The mysterious F. Dixon finally had a first name.

The brunette continued to apologize and explain, her words slightly slurred. “I thought I would surprise him . . . Last week we talked about getting together again, so I was out with my friends and thought, ‘What the hell?’” She paused, and then gave Victoria an embarrassed smile. “You know, I was a lot better at this kind of thing in my twenties.” She got a little teary-eyed, and cleared her throat. “Well. I should let you get back to sleep. Sorry again.” She looked unsure which direction to head in as she turned first left, then right.

Victoria pointed. “He’s that way,” she said, not unkindly. Yes, it was one o’clock in the morning and this woman had woken her up and scared the hell out of her, but still. She looked a bit . . . lost.

“Thanks.” The other woman smiled appreciatively, and then headed down the hallway in the direction of unit 4F.

Victoria closed her door, but not all the way. Because, naturally, she planned to eavesdrop.

She heard a knock, and after a few moments of silence, there was the sound of a door opening.

A deep voice, gravelly with sleep. “Charlotte . . . wow, hey. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Victoria wondered if he had the blonde cozily stashed in his place at this very moment, or perhaps yet another, heretofore unseen woman—since he seemed to have them coming out of the woodwork.

If so, somebody was going to have some ’splaining to do.

She tilted her ear toward the crack she’d left open in her doorway, trying to hear whatever the brunette was saying.