Reconcilable Differences Read online

  But now they smelled blood and were swarming like sharks in a feeding frenzy.

  Trish glanced at the television set. A blond anchor woman was running on ad nauseam about the romance of the victim and his socialite wife, complete with pictures of the bridal couple taken on their wedding day.

  “Ghouls!” Trish ranted. “Blood-sucking ghouls!” She snapped off the television and continued to pace.

  God forgive her, but she couldn’t grieve for Robert. She had grown to loath him, but the Lord knew she had never wished him dead. Only out of her life.

  And she couldn’t deny she wasn’t in love with Robert when she married him—as if she could ever love any man except Dave. But she had entered the marriage vowing to be a good wife to him, only to discover the man she married was a monster.

  She stopped her pacing and leaned forward to study her image more closely in the mirror. Faint dark circles formed half moons under her eyes. The circles were not from crying though, they were from her lack of sleep the past few nights. She hadn’t shed a tear since Robert’s death. Perhaps she had become a shallow heartless bitch? Certainly Dave believed she was.

  Trish closed her eyes in anguish and pressed her flushed cheek against the cool, smooth surface of the glass. She’d found out just hours ago that the man she’d married had been murdered, and she still couldn’t get Dave off her mind.

  She opened her eyes and once again stared at her image. “Robert was an evil man, Trish. There’s no guilt in being unable to mourn him. Neither of you were ever husband and wife in mind, heart, or…soul.”

  With that thought and her conscience finally free of guilt, Trish washed her face and went downstairs to dinner.

  The meal was a quiet one. Her father kept stealing sympathetic glances at her until she could no longer ignore them.

  “Dad, will you stop looking at me as if you expect me to shatter into pieces any minute.”

  “I’m just concerned about how you’re holding up, baby. I know this is painful for you.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. I just wish those annoying reporters and photographers would leave us alone.”

  “They’ve left for the night. I suspect things will calm down by tomorrow.”

  “Well, I hope so. I’m sorry to be such a burden to you, Dad. I’m thinking of returning to the apartment now that Robert is—”

  “Nonsense. I won’t hear of it,” Henry said. “You’re staying here until this all blows over. What would be gained by isolating yourself in that apartment?”

  “There’s a lot that has to be done, such as making funeral arrangements, going through Robert’s papers and packing up his personal belongings.”

  “You don’t have to bother. I spoke to Chandler Davis.”

  “Robert’s attorney?”

  Henry nodded. “Chandler said he’ll handle whatever legal transactions are necessary. And I’ve told my secretary to deal with the funeral arrangements whenever the police release Robert’s body.”

  Trish felt a rush of annoyance. “It wasn’t necessary to dump the funeral on Corine, Dad. She has enough to do handling your affairs.”

  “The arrangements are simple. Robert requested cremation, so there will only have to be a private memorial. Corine does need a list of Robert’s relatives though.”

  “To my knowledge, Robert’s only living relative is an uncle who lives in upstate New York.”

  “Philip Manning?”

  She nodded. “I’ve only met him once, at our wedding, but Robert never had a good word to say about anyone except his uncle Philip. And Ali bin Muzzar, of course.”

  “Apparently, Robert did think a lot of Philip Manning because he made him his heir.”

  “Did Robert tell you that?”

  “No, Chandler did.”

  “And how did you know Robert wanted to be cremated?”

  “Chandler said it’s in his will.”

  Her annoyance escalated and she put down her fork and tried to get a firm hold on her control. “Frankly, I don’t want any of Robert’s assets. That’s clearly spelled out in the terms of the divorce. But Chandler had no business revealing to you the contents of Robert’s will.”

  “We’re old friends, Trish. And he knows I’m involved in your welfare.”

  “I don’t care how much of an old friend he is to you, Chandler Davis should not have revealed the contents of Robert’s will to you. Unless you are named in the will. When did you speak to Chandler?”

  “He called today.”

  “I wish you had given me the call. I have a great deal to go over with him.”

  “I was only trying to make things easier for you at this distressing time, baby. I told Chandler your divorce actions will be dropped at once and are to remain confidential.”

  “Why would you do that? Carter Powell has probably already filed the divorce papers we signed.”

  “He hasn’t. I spoke to him and told him to delay filing them.”

  “You had no right to do that.”

  “Trish, it’s just as well the police are not aware you were in the process of a divorce.”

  “Dad, they know about the divorce. I told them myself.”

  He frowned in distress. “I wish you hadn’t, Trish.”

  “For heaven’s sake, why not?”

  “They might think you hated Robert enough to kill him.”

  “That’s ludicrous. Why would I kill him when he was getting out of my life once and for all?”

  She was getting stressed out again. Trish took a deep breath and addressed him calmly.

  “Dad, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Truly I do. But will you try to understand that I don’t need you, your secretary or anyone else taking over my responsibilities. I’m a grown woman and you keep treating me as if I were still a child. When are you going to accept the fact that I’m no longer Daddy’s little girl?”

  “I think we’d be wiser to postpone this conversation to a later time. You’re stressed out right now, baby.”

  “Yes, I realize that I’m stressed out, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of functioning as an adult. Dave was right, I don’t—”

  “Dave? Dave who?”

  She wanted to bite her tongue. She never should have let his name slip from her lips.

  “It doesn’t matter. If you don’t mind, I have a headache, and I think I’ll go to bed and try to get some rest. This has been an unforgettable day.”

  “Sit down, Trish,” he ordered when she started to get up. Bridled anger now sharpened his tone, and her throat suddenly felt dry.

  Trish sank back down and reached for the glass of water at her plate.

  “Kindly tell me the full name of the Dave to whom you referred.”

  This was the very kind of scene she had hoped to avoid. She certainly didn’t need this, but it was too late.

  To avoid looking at him, she studied the embossed pattern of the damask tablecloth. “Dave Cassidy.”

  She heard him suck in his breath, and glanced up to meet the displeasure in his eyes.

  “So your knight in armor has returned.”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm, Dad.”

  “When did Cassidy show up?”

  “He was the leader of the squad that rescued us in North Africa.”

  “Oh, my God! Astride a white charger, no doubt.”

  She tried to lighten the mood. “Actually, it was a gray helicopter.”

  He wasn’t amused. “And you failed to mention this to me.”

  “What difference does it make, Dad? Dave poses no threat to you. He loathes the sight of me. He made that quite clear when I saw him last night.”

  “You saw Cassidy last night!”

  “Yes, I did.” She was coming apart at the seams, unable to disguise her frustration and resentment. “I went to his apartment.”

  “You went to the apartment of the man you were once engaged to on the very night your husband was murdered. That will read well with the police,” her father said with a sneer.


  “Get real, Dad. How did I know Robert would be murdered? Furthermore, I was only there for a few minutes.”

  “Why, Trish? Why would you even go there in the first place?”

  “To tell Dave about the diamonds.”

  She had already said more than she should have, but knowing her father it was too late to back off now.

  His eyes narrowed, and he lowered his voice. “What is this about diamonds?”

  “Yesterday afternoon I went to the apartment and found a small pouch of diamonds in the safe. I could only assume Robert had put it in there.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “I left it there, of course. But it didn’t make sense to me, so I thought I better tell Dave about it.”

  “Why in hell would you tell him? Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “You were gone. And I didn’t know what to do, so I went to Dave.”

  “That was a damn fool thing to do, Trish.”

  That did it! She tossed her napkin aside and stood up. “You’re right, as usual, Dad. I suppose I was just looking for an excuse to see him again. You see, I’m still crazy about him, but he wants nothing to do with me. That should make you very happy. You won, Dad. Break out the champagne. ‘To the victor fall the spoils.’” She strode from the room.

  Later that evening, driven by the need to stretch her legs, Trish took Ayevol outside for a walk. In the event there was a reporter lurking around, she remained on the grounds of the estate.

  As she strolled through the garden, Ayevol scampered ahead of her, stopping to sniff a blade of grass or examine a fallen leaf.

  A light breeze ruffled her hair and she raised her face to catch the full measure of the soothing massage. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and reveled in the sweet fragrance of jasmine and roses that followed in its wake.

  “Trish.”

  Startled by the sudden intrusion, her eyes flew open as a cry of alarm slipped past her lips.

  Barking profusely, Ayevol streaked back and sprang at the figure who stepped out of the shadows.

  “Hi, boy, how you doing?”

  Dave Cassidy knelt down and the excited dog leaped into his arms, attempting to lick his face in greeting. “I missed you, pal.”

  Trying to avoid the lapping tongue, Dave looked up at her and grinned. “I can’t believe he remembers me after all this time.”

  Trish contained her surprise, but couldn’t stop her heart from pounding joyously at this reunion. The three of them were all together again.

  Ayevol had been the first gift Dave had given her. Shortly after they’d set up housekeeping together, they’d seen the puppy in the window of a pet store and it’d been instant love between all three of them.

  The dog’s name was always a source of confusion to people. Many misunderstood and thought it was Eye Full, others Eiffel, but actually, as a secret message to each other, she and Dave had created an anagram for Love Ya when they named the dog.

  “Of course he does, Dave. Dogs are like elephants; they never forget.”

  Trish knew she had to get a better control on herself before talking further with him. She walked over and sat down in the nearby gazebo that sat in the center of the garden.

  For another long moment, Dave and Ayevol renewed their friendship, then Dave stood up and joined her. Traitorous little imp that he’d become, Ayevol stayed at Dave’s heels, and settled down at his feet when Dave sat down.

  “What are you doing out here, Dave?”

  “I was on my way up the driveway when I saw you come outside.”

  “Why didn’t you stop me and come into the house?”

  “I prefer talking to you without Henry around.”

  “He’s not home. Would you like to go inside?”

  “This will do.”

  “I imagine you’re here because of Robert’s murder.”

  “Are you aware that you and I are suspects in your husband’s murder?”

  His comment took her by surprise. “No I wasn’t. Why would the police suspect you?”

  “Because they know you came to my apartment last night.”

  “But I never even mentioned your name to them.”

  “Most likely they heard it from Mrs. Graham. She probably saw your picture in the newspaper and called them. The woman means well, but she doesn’t realize that some things are better left unsaid.”

  “I’m sorry, Dave. My going to your apartment last night was a big mistake. Now you’re dragged into all this, too.”

  “It’s too late for regrets. I’m in it whether I want to be or not. Has there been any break on the case?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  “You would have, if there’d been. I can’t help thinking that pouch of diamonds you mentioned had something to do with your husband’s murder.”

  “I thought it was just a random mugging. The police said Robert’s watch and wallet were taken.”

  “The killer could have done that to make it look like a robbery. Did Robert have any enemies?”

  “You met him. Do you have to ask?”

  “Anyone you know of in particular?”

  “Ayevol. He growled every time Robert came near him.” At Dave’s impatient look, she said, “Truly, Dave, I don’t know. Robert didn’t seem to have many friends. Ali bin Muzzar appeared to be the closest. I wasn’t with him long enough to meet his friends, and we haven’t done any socializing together in the past year and a half.”

  “What about Henry?”

  “They seemed to get along well—certainly better than you and Dad did. Dad always seemed to make excuses to me for Robert.”

  “Most likely because he knew your husband didn’t pose a threat to him where his little girl was concerned.”

  There it was again. That same issue that had destroyed the relationship between them: the tug-of-war over her between Dave and her father. Would it ever be put to rest?

  “We’ve been there, Dave,” she said wearily.

  “Did Manning have the diamonds on him when he was killed?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been back to the apartment.”

  “I think it’s important we know.”

  “Are you suggesting we go there now?”

  “I’d like to know.”

  “Okay, I’ll get my keys. Come on, Ayevol.” The dog gave Dave a reluctant look, then trotted after her.

  Dave was waiting in front of the garage when she showed up a few minutes later.

  “Are you going to follow me?”

  “I didn’t come in a car.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You walked?”

  “I had a cab drop me off about a mile from here.”

  “And you’ve been prowling around Georgetown in the dark! You know as well as I there are very wealthy and influential people living around here. You’re lucky you weren’t spotted and shot as a prowler or even a terrorist trying to assassinate one of my congressmen neighbors.”

  “I’m trained to move around unobserved. The keys, Trish.” She dropped the keys into his outstretched palm.

  Trish savored their riding together again in the intimacy of a car. It always made her so aware of his masculinity. His long fingers on the wheel, the smell of his aftershave.

  She leaned her head against the smooth leather and closed her eyes, recalling that long-ago night when she had met Dave for the first time. He had driven her home from the party.

  The memory was still so vivid—so pure.

  From the time her father had introduced them Trish had purposely avoided Dave Cassidy. Stolen glances at him didn’t count. The man was lethal. Sensuality oozed through every pore in his gorgeous body, and like most of the women in the room—married or single—she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. No man had ever attracted her as much as he had, and it scared her. It gave him an advantage over her.

  Yet, when he approached her two hours later, she was too intrigued to reject him.

  “I’m ready to leave anytime you are.”
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  “As a matter of fact, I was just considering leaving. Is that an offer to drive me home, Mr. Cassidy?”

  “The offer’s for whatever you wish, Miss Hunter.”

  If she’d had any sense she would have backed off then, but the attraction between them was too strong, too irresistible.

  He was unexpectedly silent as he wove through the Beltway traffic with the same air of confidence as he moved. Some might mistake it for arrogance—Trish recognized it as a man secure with who and what he is. That quality attracted her more than his obvious physical ones—which were overwhelming in themselves.

  He pulled up at the front door of her father’s house but kept the car idling, which gave her a clue to his intentions to leave.

  Turning to her, he grinned. “So at last I’ve met Patricia Hunter. Exquisitely beautiful. Brainy. Pleasant. Selfless charitable volunteer—and according to the gossip, the boss’s pampered daughter.”

  “And I’ve finally met David Cassidy,” she replied. “Dangerously handsome. Phi Betta Kappa. Summa cum laude. Rising star on the corporate horizon—and according to the gossip, the anointed future head of Hunter International.”

  “That won’t be for a while, Miss Hunter.”

  “Does that bother you, Mr. Cassidy?”

  “Not in the least. On the contrary, it could be an unexpected company benefit—plenty of time for us to get to know each other.”

  “I’m not included in the firm’s cafeteria plan, Mr. Cassidy.”

  “I hope not. I’d prefer to keep this just between us.”

  “Keep what?”

  “What’s going to happen between us.”

  “Which is nothing. I don’t date men who work for my father.”

  “Until now.”

  “Are you always this confident?”

  He chuckled. “I try to be, but I admit my ego’s taken a hit a time or two.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “And you can chalk one up again, Cassidy, because you’re not about ‘to go where no man has gone before.’”

  A dark brow arched in amusement. “Does that mean you’re a virgin, or a Trekkie?”

  “I thought I made myself clear, Mr. Cassidy. I don’t date the help.”

  He sobered, and drew her slowly into his arms. Lowering his head, his voice a husky whisper, sent a shiver down her spine.