Darkness Before the Dawn (Maggie Bennett 2)

Maggie’s steps quickened as she headed down the elegant hallway outside Kate’s fourth-floor apartment. Chrissie would have been retrieved and settled for the night by now, and the apartment would be quiet. Maggie could kick off her shoes, pour herself another, much more generous drink and collapse on the couch for at least half an hour before she had to figure out their next step. The idea of the couch and the drink was so enticing that she was almost dizzy with longing. She fumbled with the key and then practically stumbled in the front door.

“Mission accomplished,” she sang out, heading into the well-lit living room. She stopped short. Kate wasn’t alone.

She wasn’t happy, either. She looked like a small, fierce terrier confronting a St. Bernard. Actually, an Irish wolfhound would be a better description. Kate’s companion was definitely shaggy; his Celtic ancestry was clearly proclaimed in the sandy red hair, in the huge body, and in the incongruous trace of freckling across his broad, earnest face. He was dressed in a dark business suit. His tie was long since gone, his hair was rumpled, and his blue eyes were still frustrated as he turned to look at Maggie. The frustration faded and was replaced with surprise tinged with amusement.

Maggie was used to seeing surprise on men’s faces. She was a healthy, six-foot-tall woman with curves, muscles, and long, rippling blond hair. The mere sight of her had a tendency to daze mortal men. But amusement was something new—until she remembered the baseball cap on her head and the soot covering her face.

“Who’s the street urchin, Kate?” he inquired. Maggie liked his voice. It was warm and low-pitched, with a flat Midwestern accent that somehow added to its charm.

“My sister,” Kate said flatly. “Maggie Bennett, this is Caleb McAllister.” She placed a slight emphasis on his name, and Maggie took a second glance. During her short drive back to the apartment, she’d decided that Kate’s nemesis Caleb was her most likely suspect in Francis’s untimely demise. But casting another glance over Caleb’s rangy figure, she quickly revised her original suspicion. She wouldn’t rule him out, but at the moment he seemed very unlikely—even if he looked now as if he wanted to wring her little sister’s neck.

“Did I interrupt something?” Maggie inquired coolly, kicking off her shoes and sinking onto one of the white couches. Her hand left a nice sooty imprint. She brushed at it with little success. At least it wasn’t blood.

“Caleb insists on interrupting my home life to discuss business,” Kate said in an icy tone, “to find out what our colleague Francis had to say this afternoon.”

“Had to say about what?” Maggie asked, wiggling her bare toes.

“Studio business,” Caleb said, staring at her toes with unwilling fascination.

“About budgets,” Kate said at the same time, watching Caleb watching Maggie’s feet and not looking pleased. “Francis was way over budget on The Revenge of the Potato People, and his figures didn’t add up. Caleb decided to see me about them instead of going directly to Francis.”

“You’re in charge of production, Kate. It’s your job,” Caleb replied with maddening patience.

“You’re in charge of finances—it’s just as much your job to find out where the money went,” Kate snapped.

“I don’t want to argue about it. I want to know what Francis had to say.”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Maggie inquired smoothly, curling her bare feet under her and rolling her sleeves back up.

Caleb cast her an irritated glance. “Don’t you think I haven’t tried? He hasn’t been home a

ll evening. I’ve called—I even stopped by—but there was no one home.”

“Why didn’t you ask him this afternoon before he left work?” Maggie persisted gently.

“Because he disappeared right after he and Kate had their battle in the lunchroom, and he didn’t bother to leave word with anyone about where he was going,” he said, telling Maggie exactly what she wanted to know. He turned back to her sister. “I need answers on this, Kate. The end of the fiscal year is only a month and a half away, and I—”

“You know what you can do with your fiscal year, Caleb,” Kate said sweetly.

Time to take a hand, Maggie thought, stretching her feet out in front of her and rising with all the languid grace she could muster—which wasn’t much, given her recent activities. She smiled up at Caleb McAllister, who had to be six foot four or five at least, and was pleased to see that she could still summon forth an appropriate male response. It had been years since she had tried, but right now she needed to get Caleb out of there and Kate settled down with a good book and a Valium.

“Why don’t you ask him tomorrow morning, Caleb?” she inquired, dropping her voice a note or two. “It’s after eleven already. By tomorrow, I’m sure Francis will turn up with all the answers. He’s probably just spending the night at a girl friend’s—”

Kate shook her head. “Boyfriend’s,” she supplied.

Maggie shrugged. “Anyway, I’m sure everything will be cleared up in the morning. As you said, you have a month and half to get the answers. Surely a few more hours won’t make any difference?”

Caleb looked torn. Maggie’s low, soothing voice was having a predictable effect, and he was warming to it while still trying to keep his attention on her embattled sister. “You call Mrs. Stoneham,” he ordered Kate.

“Did she send you out here?” Kate demanded. “I don’t believe you.”

“She was worried about you, Kate. When she called me tonight, she asked me to check on both you and Francis. She said she’d never seen you as angry and upset as you were in the lunchroom.”

“Then clearly she’s never seen me around you,” Kate said angrily, and once more Maggie intervened.

“Mrs. Stoneham can wait till tomorrow, too,” she said, taking Caleb’s strong arm in her hand and pulling him gently toward the door. “I don’t see what all this fuss is all about. Life must be extremely peaceful at Stoneham Studios if a little lunchroom argument can cause so much worry.”

A reluctant smile creased Caleb’s expression, and the change was a revelation. Maggie cast a surreptitious look back at her sister to see if she had any reaction to that glorious smile, but Kate was looking, if possible, even angrier.