a game of staying out of her date’s sight, making new friends as she worked her way around the room. She should just go home, though she wasn’t ready to be alone and she didn’t feel right about intruding on Lucy and Rush. Desperate for a distraction, she found a quieter spot and sent a text message to Bill, asking about the interview with Theo Manning.
Bill replied immediately, explaining Manning had been a no-show.
She should tell him about Lawton’s visit and had her fingers poised to do just that when she changed her mind. He’d only insist she move in with him for a couple of days. Not happening. She’d be better off getting a room here at the hotel for the evening.
When Bill asked, she shared how well the evening was not going with Mr. Grab Hands. Welcoming the snarky replies, she was soon chuckling at herself for this latest failure at establishing a personal life. Her eyes landed on Rush and Lucy on the other side of the mezzanine and she sighed.
Love was lovely for them. Becca just wasn’t cut out for the interpersonal stuff. She had her career to love. She had a stable of reporters who gave her plenty of ups and downs to juggle. She’d pit a moody reporter against the grumpiest toddler any day of the week. It might not look like a standard life, but it was hers.
Wishing Bill a good night, Becca went to find one more glass of champagne before going to the front desk to book a room. Better alone in a posh suite than home wondering when Lawton would come back and knock down her door.
* * *
AT HIS PLACE, Parker finished shaving and dressed for the gala. It seemed every breath was a new battle to keep his grief at bay. With a last check of his appearance, he decided it wouldn’t get any better tonight. He grabbed the go-bag he kept ready in the coat closet, added another change of clothes and a rain jacket considering the season. Parker planned to be a much harder target for the assassin who had double-tapped Theo. Packing up his computer, he left his apartment, one eye searching for anyone too interested in the building or himself. He thought longingly of the SUV he’d had armored and knew it was too soon to reveal that asset.
Tossing the gear into the small space behind the driver’s seat of his black-and-silver Audi R8 Spyder, he headed out, arriving at the awards gala well past the point of fashionably late. One perk was the lack of a wait at the valet stand. Easing out of the low-slung sports car, he tossed the keys to the valet. He flashed a fifty-dollar bill and pressed it into the young man’s hand. “Keep it close. I may need a quick getaway,” he said with a wink.
The kid grinned conspiratorially and promised Parker a zero wait time. Didn’t matter. With the upgraded locking system, Parker could get into his car without the key he’d handed to the valet.
As he walked through the extravagant lobby, he scanned the attendees milling about on the mezzanine level. Resisting the urge to tug at his bow tie, he did his best to believe he looked like all the rest of the men in tuxedos. Although he preferred his military mess kit on formal occasions, tonight he needed to blend in with the upper echelons of San Francisco society.
He knew it wasn’t wise to pester her again after she’d made it clear she’d speak with him tomorrow at her office. He just couldn’t wait. A man was dead, cut down in his prime by a coward who’d ambushed him. Eyeing the free-flowing champagne, Parker hoped to have more luck this time. He deserved a chance to share his side of the bogus story, to counter every unsubstantiated claim in that email.
More important, he intended to make her understand that Theo should be allowed to rest in peace, free of any scandal casting shadows over his honorable service.
She would give him the name of her source by morning, and he would take that information to Detective Baird.
At the top of the wide staircase, he wandered left, bypassing the first two bars and the long lines of men and women in glittering formal wear. Reconnaissance was the first step in getting a handle on the situation and the woman. After two circuits of the areas designated for the event and the acquisition of a champagne flute he was using as a prop, he still hadn’t found her.
She was here. He kept his gaze roving, eager for a flash of her auburn hair or those long, creamy legs. Striving for the patience he used to demonstrate in the field, he planted himself where he could watch the majority of the guests come and go.
At last he spotted her, walking up the stairs from the lobby alone. Where was her date? Her red hair gleamed, swept up off her neck in a sleek twist. The short black dress and sky-high heels with the sparkling straps winding around her ankles showed off her toned legs. At her door, in those heels, she’d been almost eye level with him. Her bright blue eyes, full of defiance and intelligence and amped up for the evening, had captivated him, putting an unexpected sizzle of attraction in his blood.
Forget that. He didn’t need her to like him, and he’d blown any possible personal advantage by being a jerk earlier. Now he’d have to adjust his approach. He moved cautiously, using the crowd as cover to follow her when she reached the top of the stairs, so she wouldn’t bolt. He wasn’t in the mood to chase her around a hotel or out into the chilly October night.
He didn’t want to tell her about Theo, didn’t want to use his friend’s death that way, but he was prepared to fight dirty and play the sympathy card if necessary. He couldn’t afford to give the blackmailer any more of a head start.
How to get a stubborn woman to talk? He drifted after her as she aimed toward the ballroom where the dinner and presentations had been held. To save the rest of the men named as targets, he needed to succeed on his first attempt, not flounder around hoping for her cooperation.
His skills didn’t run to charm, and with his heart in a vise over Theo, his patience was waning. The best option was to draw her away from the party, isolate her and make her see the wisdom of cooperating with him.
She tossed back her head, laughing at some flirty greeting from a man who appeared at her elbow offering champagne. Then she suddenly turned toward Parker, as if she’d sensed him staring.
Parker smiled, holding his ground while he waited for her to react. Her eyes went wide with recognition. From one second to the next, her initial shock shifted into a glare that would have split him in two if her eyes had been weapons. He merely raised his glass in a silent salute.
She turned away, returning her full attention to the people surrounding her.
He started toward her, taking his time, assessing the people around her as he practiced polite phrasing over and over in his head. She continued to check on his progress, something he found inappropriately satisfying under the circumstances. With growing confidence, he anticipated having her full attention, and the name of her source, before the night was over.
Fluttering her eyelashes at her entourage, she excused herself and moved toward the restrooms. Did she really think that would stop him?
Another man halted her, blocking her path just as she turned the corner. She stepped to the side and the stranger did the same, in that awkward dance of two people who were striving to be courteous.
Parker saw the danger a moment too late. The stranger’s startled expression clouded over and he yanked Rebecca around the corner and out of sight. Hurrying through the crowded space, Parker wondered why she wasn’t screaming. The woman had put up more resistance against him.
He turned into the corridor only to be blocked by a second man. Younger, trimmer than the first, he was moving into position to make sure no one interfered. Not your day, Parker thought. With two quick strikes, he disabled the sentry and pulled him out of sight of the partygoers.
