"I'm sorry." Byron shook his head. "You've lost me."
"Anybody who dives headfirst into third and busts their nose to stretch a double has guts. And style. Somebody who wants to win that bad doesn't steal. Stealing's too easy, and this kind of stealing's too ordinary."
"Sliding into third," Byron murmured, grinning foolishly. "So that's how she did it. I never asked her." Because Kusack was grinning back, Byron offered a hand. "Thanks for your time, detective."
The crowd was thinning out by the time Byron arrived at Pretenses. Three hours late, he thought with a wince. The auction was obviously over, and only those lingering over their drinks or conversations were left. The fragrance of night jasmine blooming on the veranda mixed with the scents of perfume and wine.
He spotted Margo first, flirting with her husband. Even as he hurried toward her, he was scanning for Kate. "Margo, I'm sorry I'm so late."
"You should be." She touched pouty lips to his. "You completely missed the bidding. Now you'll have to come in next week and buy something very, very expensive."
"It's the least I can do. Still, you look successful."
When you bother to look at me, she thought, smothering a grin at the way he kept searching the room. "We raised just over fifteen thousand for Wednesday's Child. Nothing makes me happier than raising money to help handicapped children."
Josh wrapped his arms around her from the back, placed their joint hands
protectively over her belly. It rippled under them, thrillingly. "She's trying not to look too gleeful over the number of requests to hold merchandise."
"It's a charity event," she said primly, then laughed. "And boy, are we going to clean up next week. In fact, Kate's in the office logging in all the holds."
"I'll go let her know I'm here. Actually, I—" He broke off, torn. Josh was her lawyer, after all. "No, I have to tell her first. Don't go anywhere."
He started across the room just as Kate swung through the office door. "There you are." She beamed at him. "I thought you must have gotten stuck in L.A. You didn't have to—" She stopped because he was staring at her as if he'd had a lobotomy on the trip home. "What is it?"
He managed to close his mouth, get his lungs working again. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Katherine Powell?"
"Boy, a guy doesn't see you for a few hours, and—oh!" Her face lit up and she tried a sophisticated turn. "I forgot. Margo did it. What do you think?"
He turned first to Margo. "God bless you," he said fervently, then took Kate's hand. "What do I think? I think my heart stopped." He kissed her fingers, then, wanting more, her mouth.
"Wow." A little surprised by the dizzying depth of the kiss, she took a cautious step back. "Look what a little goop on the face and a push-up bra gets you."
His gaze shifted down. "Is that what's under there?"
"You're not going to believe what's under here."
"How long is it going to take for me to find out?"
Amused by his reaction, she toyed with his tie. "Well, big guy, if you play your cards right, we can—''
"Damn." He grabbed her hands. "It's amazing how a sexy woman can shut a man's mind down. I have news for you."
"Fine. If you'd rather discuss current events than my underwear."
"Don't distract me. I've just come from seeing Detective Kusack. It's why I'm so late."
"You went to see him?" The excited flush drained out of her cheeks. "He called you in? I'm sorry, Byron. There's no reason for you to be involved."
"No." He gave her a little shake. "Be quiet. I went to see him because I finally got the report I've been waiting for. I had the documents Marty Bittle gave me sent to a handwriting expert that Josh recommended."
"Handwriting expert? But you never told me. Josh never said anything."
Before her eyes could heat, he hurried on. "We wanted to wait until we had some results. And now we do. They were forgeries, Kate. Copies of your signature."
"Copies." Her hands began to tremble in his. "He can prove it?"
"He's one of the most respected people in his field in the country. But we didn't need him. Kusack had already verified the signatures. He knows they're forgeries. He doesn't consider you a suspect, Kate. Apparently he never really did."