Hello, Darkness by Sandra Brown Page A

been careless enough to stay out all night.
    He’d devised a plausible story, and she might have continued believing it if he hadn’t been so late getting home last night. The story about the tax seminar didn’t fly. He had gone to the seminar and signed in, so there would be a record of his attendance. But he had never intended to stay and had left after the first boring hour.
    He’d caught hell for it this morning. Toni shooed the kids from the breakfast table and sent them upstairs to do chores. Then, without any warning, she demanded, “Where were you last night, Brad?”
    No lead-in, just that angry, surprise attack that immediately pissed him off. “You know where I was.”
    “I was up until after two o’clock this morning and you weren’t home yet. No tax seminar lasts that long.”
    “It didn’t. It was over around eleven. I met a few guys there. We went out for a beer. Realized we were hungry. Ordered food.”
    “What guys?”
    “I don’t know. Guys. We exchanged first names. Joe, I think it was, is an executive at Motorola. Grant or Greg, something like that, owns three paint and body shops. The other one—”
    “You’re lying,” she exclaimed.
    “Well, thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt.”
    “You haven’t earned it, Brad. I tried to go into your office last night. The door was locked.”
    He stood up, pushing his chair away from the table so angrily it scraped loudly against the floor. “Big deal. The door was locked. I didn’t lock it. One of the kids must have. But why were you going in there in the first place? To see what you could find to hold against me? To snoop? To spy?”
    “Yes.”
    “At least you admit it.” He expelled a long breath, as though taking time out to get a grip. “Toni, what’s wrong with you lately? Every time I leave the house, you put me through a royal grilling.”
    “Because you’re leaving the house more often and you stay away for long periods of time that you can’t, or won’t, account for.”
    “Account for? What, I’m not an adult? I’m not allowed to come and go of my own free will? I have to check in with you if I decide to stop for a beer? When I need to take a piss, shall I call you first and ask permission?”
    “It won’t work, Brad,” she’d said with maddening composure. “I’m not going to let you turn the tables and make me feel bad for asking why you were out until early this morning. Go to work. You’re going to be late.” That had been her exit line. She had stalked from the kitchen, her spine as straight as if she had a girder up her ass.
    He’d let her go. He knew her. Once she reached that stage of righteous indignation, he could grovel for hours and nothing he said or did would appease her. She would stay frosty for days. Eventually she would thaw, but in the meantime…
    Jesus! Was it any wonder that he wasn’t eager to go home tonight? Who wanted to cozy up to a Popsicle? If he erred tonight, Toni was to blame, not him.
    Thankfully he had discovered a new outlet for his “addiction.” Sex in all its variations was his for the taking. Thinking about what was now available to him, he smiled.
    Reaching beneath his lab coat, he stroked himself. He liked to stay semierect, so throughout the day he took sneak peeks at the photographs he kept locked in his credenza drawer, or, if he felt safe from intrusion, he visited favorite websites. Only a minute or two would do the trick. Some people drank coffee for a quick pick-me-up. He’d discovered something a hell of a lot more stimulating than caffeine.
    It would be a long afternoon, but the anticipation alone was delicious.
    Hurry, nightfall.
    Chapter Nine
    W hen Paris entered the room where they were waiting for her, Dean and the other two men stood up. They had convened in a small meeting room within the CIB that was ordinarily used to interview witnesses or question suspects. It was cramped quarters but confidentiality was assured.
    Curtis pulled a chair from