“We’re making a difference.”
“I hope so.” Skye fingered a strand of hair that had fallen down her nape from her up-do. She’d taken thirty minutes to have her nails done before the fund-raiser began, and she used one to shove that derelict curl back into place. She figured she might as well enjoy such a feminine luxury while she had the chance. The new nails would have to come off tomorrow. They made it too difficult to handle a gun.
Briefly, she wondered how many other women in the room had to worry about fake nails getting in the way of shooting someone.
“Hey, you look pretty hot yourself,” Peter said, and she belatedly realized he’d been sizing her up for some time.
She let her smile widen. “It’s the nails.”
“It’s the body!” he responded bluntly.
She laughed. “A side benefit of my passion for exercise, I guess.”
“Most people think that’s the main benefit.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I heard about what happened,” he said, growing serious.
He was referring to the shooting at her house last night, of course. Thanks to her affiliation with The Last Stand, and her background, which was already sensational enough, the incident had been splashed all over the news. A local program with an especially zealous reporter had even picked up on the fact that this second attack had occurred on the same day as Burke’s release from prison, and had reported his stabbing, too.
It was a violent day for both victims’ advocate Skye Kellerman and the man who attempted to rape her at knifepoint four years ago….
Since the guests had begun to arrive, Skye had had to respond to some comment or question about last night from almost every person she met.
I’m so glad you’re okay…. That must’ve been terrifying…. Do you know the guy who broke in?… No? Do you think he’s affiliated with that dentist who attacked you before?… But Oliver Burke’s in the hospital, right?… I saw that on the news…. Since you’re okay, I can say this: You couldn’t have staged a better publicity stunt. What a turnout!… I bet you raise some serious dough tonight, eh?… Good thing you got him….
In some respects, it didn’t feel like such a good thing. Lorenzo Bishop had to be someone’s son/grandson/brother. Maybe husband, or, God forbid, father. Skye was doing her best not to consider that aspect, not to think of him as human at all, so she could hold herself together long enough to get through this night. If only she could forget the gory details… But she couldn’t have forgotten a second of it, even without all the reminders.
“Peter, you haven’t seen anyone unfamiliar hanging around the office, have you?” she asked. Skye had told herself she wouldn’t investigate tonight. It wasn’t the time or the place. She needed to focus on wining and dining the people who’d paid to be here and could make such a positive impact on what she, Sheridan and Jasmine were trying to build. But she planned to question all the volunteers as soon as possible and couldn’t resist the opportunity to ask Peter right now.
He blinked at her. “Unfamiliar?”
“The man who came to my house last night had a map.”
“That doesn’t mean he was hanging around the office.”
“I’m unlisted.”
“Doesn’t matter. Anyone who owns property or has a utility account can be traced.”
He’d already learned a lot at TLS. “I have to start somewhere,” she said.
“I wish I could help you, but I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”
Before Skye could press him for the names of anyone who’d been in the office this past week—it was his job to organize the other volunteers—Sheridan joined them. “You okay?” she asked, touching Skye’s elbow.
Skye allowed herself to be drawn into a quick hug. “I’m fine.”
Sheridan and Peter hugged, too. “You look great,” Sheridan told him. “I feel like a proud mother.”
He grimaced at her words. “Mother? Come on. I’m almost nineteen. Maybe if I dressed up at the office occasionally, one of you wouldn’t mind the age difference between us.”
“Why settle for only one?” Skye quipped.
“Good point.” He straightened his tie, his tone purposely cocky. “I can handle both of you at the same time. That’s the beauty of youth.”
Sheridan rolled her eyes. “Where’s Charlie?” she asked Skye.
Skye glanced around the room, which was beginning to fill up. “I asked him to meet me here. I wanted to have a good reason to keep him away from the booze tonight. The fact that he’ll have to drive himself home is it.”
“Smart,” Sheridan said with a chuckle. “And practical, since we had to come early to decorate.” She angled her head slightly to the right and lowered her voice. “Did you see Senator Denatorre come in?”
“No.” Somehow Skye had missed him. But that didn’t surprise her. She wasn’t exactly at her social best and had mostly stayed in the corner opposite the hors d’oeuvres table where there was less of a crowd. She’d also been searching for Charlie. Since he was here as her guest, he didn’t have a ticket. She wanted to make sure he felt comfortable. And, for once, she was eager to hear all about the latest evil machinations of his ex-wife. At least it had nothing to do with her own problems.
“I already greeted the senator,” Sheridan went on. “So you don’t have to go over right away, but you should probably say hello before we sit down to dinner. He wants to meet you and Jasmine.”
“Where is Jas?” Skye asked.
“Still on her way from Ft. Bragg. She’ll be here soon.”
“I’ll say hello to the senator once I’ve got my escort in tow,” Skye said pointedly. “Wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea.”
“Whatever it takes to impress him.”
“Damn, even in the charity realm you gotta suck up to somebody,” Peter muttered. But he’d spotted a fellow volunteer and didn’t seem to be paying a lot of attention. “Catcha later,” he said with a wave and left to join his friend.
“So, where’s your date?” Skye asked.
“He’s here somewhere.”
“Who is it?”
“Jonathan.”
“Stivers?”
“Do we know another Jonathan?” she asked innocently.