Free Deadly Intersections by Ann Roberts Page B

ridden it yet?”
    She shook her head, conscious that Biz still held her arm.
    “My offer still stands. I’d be glad to teach you how to ride.”
    “I don’t think so. I’ll probably just sell it when I have time.”
    “That would be a terrible waste.” She tipped Ari’s chin until they gazed into each other’s eyes. “I want you to make me a promise.”
    “What?” she whispered.
    Biz’s finger stroked the side of her cheek, and her knees went weak. “I want you to promise me that before you sell that incredible machine you’ll at least let me take you out on it. You need to know what you’re missing.”
    She closed her eyes momentarily, oblivious to Biz’s words. When she finally opened them, Biz was grinning. She knows she has power over me .
    With that thought she burst the bubble Biz had wrapped her in and scowled. “You’ve broken every rule we agreed to. You’ve flirted. You’ve touched me, and you’ve clearly made a pass at me.”
    Biz shook her head in disagreement. “I haven’t made a pass at you, at least nothing really overt.”
    “And what would you call that last move?”
    Biz hooked her finger inside Ari’s waistband. “That was just testing the waters. Do you really want to know how I make a pass at a woman, an incontrovertible and obvious pass?”
    She remained motionless, unable to move or speak. Biz was too close and the sexual energy between them was debilitating. She just stood there, praying Biz would leave soon, before Lorraine came out or Molly drove up. Of course if Molly pulled up right at that moment, they would make the newspapers, for she’d pull her gun out and kill Biz.
    But Biz just continued to smile, her finger stroking Ari’s belly. “If I were really going to make a pass, I’d kiss you. I’d kiss you hard. I’d kiss you so deeply that I’d pull all the breath out of you.”
    Biz’s comment rang in her ears, and she was too stunned to respond. Common sense pulled her away, and she retreated inside the office. She leaned against the wall for support. She remained there, breathing deeply until the sound of the Shelby’s engine roared out of the neighborhood.

Chapter Ten
     
    The woman called Checkers clucked her tongue four, five, six times—a nervous tick she could no longer control. It was an inevitable holdover from her days as a smoker, a habit she hadn’t been able to afford for years.
    Seven. Eight. Nine. 
    The Greyhound bus terminal was busy since it was a Monday, and the security guards wouldn’t notice her for a while. She slipped into a molded plastic chair in the bustling lobby and glanced up at the TV in the corner. Her favorite show Law and Order was playing, featuring Briscoe and Green. She loved Lennie Briscoe. He reminded her of Sully with his thick New York accent and his “tell it like it is” attitude.
    She missed Sully, but that was a lifetime ago back when she had a home. 
    And Laurie. Her dear, sweet Laurie.
    Tears welled in her eyes, and she sniffed. No point in thinking about the old days. They were over and would never return. Sully was dead and Laurie was gone. Briscoe and Green stood over a body, a crimson stain at the base of his skull. She shuddered involuntarily at the sight. So much violence, so much blood. Or had she imagined it?
    It hadn’t seemed real. Her dear friend Professor Shakespeare had bought her a hamburger, and she’d taken it back to the old schoolhouse and eaten it in the empty classroom that faced the swingset. No one was there to bother her, and she loved watching the children play.
    Ten, eleven, twelve.
    Pictures scrolled through her mind like the old-time movies at the Coney Island arcade. She’d pay her penny and crank the handle, watching the sepia images flip over one on top of the other, faster and faster.
    Like the swinging. The little girl going higher and higher, a smile on her face. Just like her Laurie. Laurie loved the swings.
    She’d seen the dark man coming before the little girl. He