Nine Lives. Sharon Sala

Benton was missing, but it wasn’t going to be on his head.

      By the time he got to the restaurant, his step was lighter. This was going to work out perfectly. He had been seen flying over his own oil leases, which he did on a regular basis. And he was eating at his favorite restaurant, as he did with every visit. Nothing out of the ordinary. No one to blame.

      The owner greeted him jovially as he walked in the door, then led him straight to his favorite table. Mark ordered a slab of baby back ribs, a side order of fries and coleslaw, and cleaned his plate. He left a big tip on his credit card as he paid, then walked out. A short while later he was on his way home. The night was overcast, and the weather was already beginning to change for the worse as he landed the chopper back at the company hangar. He was home, but still not done.

      He put on another pair of gloves, got into Marsha’s car and headed for what he called the projects. Within the hour, he was circling an old housing complex. When he found a likely spot, he called a cab, asking to be picked up at The Bump and Grind, a busy, well-known nightclub with a reputation for drugs and whores, which was a few blocks over.

      He parked the car on a corner beneath a broken street light, and left the keys in the ignition and the car unlocked. He got out without looking back and jogged to the club. Once there, and without making eye contact with the crowd around the front door, he waited for the cab to arrive.

      Luck was with him.

      Within five minutes he was being driven away. As they left the bad streets of Dallas behind him, he began to relax. He knew that Marsha’s car would be gone before morning, most likely stripped or on its way to Mexico. Even if it showed up somewhere down the road, they would never be able to link it to him.

      He rode the cab to within a half mile of the company airport, paid the driver off, then walked the rest of the way back. When he finally reached the hangar and crawled into his own car, it was close to four in the morning. His hands were shaking as he reached for his seat belt.

      It was ten minutes to five when he entered the house. He reset the security alarm before it sounded, then removed his shoes and hurried upstairs, sidestepping the family cat, who, as always, was roaming the rooms in the dark. When he finally made it into the bedroom, he was relieved to find Penny sound asleep.

      As badly as he wanted to crawl into bed beside her, he needed to maintain his alibi. When he saw how she’d curled up in a ball, he put an extra blanket over the bottom half of the bed, then hung up his clothes. Then, conscious of the continued need for an alibi, he wadded up his pajamas and messed up the sheets and his pillow as if he’d been in them all night, before hurrying into the bathroom.

      His face was drawn, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot as he looked at himself in the mirror. He stared at himself until he started to smile, and then he did a little jump-hop and turned the water on in the shower.

      He’d done it! His troubles were over, and no one was the wiser.

      By the time he came out of the shower, Penny was sitting up in bed and combing her hair out of her face.

      “Darling…what on earth are you doing?” she asked.

      Mark bent down and kissed her as he tossed his wet towel toward the bathroom.

      “Got to get to the office early,” he said. “I have some overseas phone calls to make.”

      Penny made a face.

      “What time did you come home? I never even knew when you came to bed.”

      “Lord, honey, I’m not sure. It was late.” Then he leaned down and kissed her again, this time lingering on her pouty lips. “You looked so cute. You know how you get when you’re cold, all rolled up in that little ball? I put extra covers on your feet and you relaxed.”

      Penny blew kisses at him. “Poor baby, working so hard, and it’s almost Christmas.”

      “I know,” he said. “But we’ll be leaving for Tahoe in a day or so, with plenty of time to enjoy ourselves there.”

      She got up and went to the bathroom. Mark was dressed and ready to head downstairs by the time she came out. She made a face because she’d missed a morning quickie, then crawled back into bed and closed her eyes.

      Mark was riding an adrenalin high as he arrived at his office. He felt no guilt for what he’d done. Marsha Benton had been a threat to everything he’d accomplished. The only downside was that he was going to have to find another personal assistant.

      A few hours passed before he got tired of answering his own calls. He was reaching for the phone book to call the employment agency when the door to his office opened. Frowning, he looked up. It was Penny.

      “Darling, where on earth is Marsha?”

      Mark quickly shifted gears mentally as he strode across the room to greet her, then ignored her question by taking her in his arms.

      “Penny, darling, I didn’t know you were coming into the city. Please tell me you have time to let me take you to an early dinner.”

      Penny Presley giggled and fluffed her freshly done hair as she threw her arms around her husband’s neck.

      “Oh, darling, you can take me anywhere you want.”

      Mark made a low growling sound in the back of his throat and nuzzled the spot behind her ear. She moaned as she rubbed herself against his groin.

      Mark’s reaction was just as she’d expected. She smiled slowly as she looked up at him.

      “You want me, don’t you, honey? I can tell you do. Even after all these years, I still turn you on, don’t I?”

      “Lord, yes,” Mark said, and cupped her hips, pulling her closer. “Feel me, honey? You’re the best there is, and you’re mine.”

      He grinned at her, locked the door to his office, and for a short while the business of hiring and firing—and killing—was put aside as he gave Penny Presley everything she wanted.

      Four

      Cat had been home for three hours before her patience wore thin. Despite the cold and rain, she’d driven back over to Mimi’s townhouse again and had staked out the building, intent on confronting her the moment she arrived. But when sunset came and then went, and the street lights came on, she got a knot in her belly. She left message after message on Mimi’s cell phone but never got an answer. All night, she sat outside the building, growing more fearful by the hour. When sunrise was only a heartbeat away, she picked the lock on Mimi’s apartment one more time. This time, she was going to go through the place like she owned it.

      Two hours passed as she went through everything there was to see. She found note pads where Mimi had been doodling Mark Presley’s name. There were notes to herself to pick up her dry cleaning, a grocery list that had yet to be filled and a note to call the doctor. Still Cat could find nothing identifying which obstetrician Mimi might have chosen out of the hundreds in the city. All her suitcases were in the extra bedroom where she always kept them, and the closets were full. She should have been there, but she wasn’t. Sick with a growing panic, Cat went back to her car and drove away.

      Wilson had been wondering why he hadn’t heard from Cat Dupree. She’d seemed so excited that he’d found her charm; then, when he’d called her, she’d all but brushed him off. He’d gone about his business, telling himself that if it was meant to be, they would run into each other again.

      He’d been in court for part of the day, testifying at a trial, and had gone from there to the police station to drop off some papers. It was one of the few times he hadn’t been thinking of her, and then she walked into the building.

      He saw her pause and speak to a uniformed officer who was going out the door. The officer spoke to her briefly, then pointed up. At that point she walked toward an elevator. Curious, Wilson watched her get in; then, against his better judgment, he followed, taking the stairs in a run.

      He caught a glimpse of her backside as he exited the stairwell. She was going toward