Dark Magic Page 0,51

suicidal.

He stepped back to allow Savannah entrance to his office and was not a bit surprised when her husband somehow managed to insert his solid frame between his body and Savannah's. Johnson closed the door firmly and refrained from giving in to the impulse to pull the blinds. The entire squad was staring through the dingy glass, ogling her.

Johnson had never noticed how filthy his office was, the layers of dust and grime, the greasy, leftover, empty boxes of Chinese food and pizza. The pale woman with her haunting beauty made him all too aware of his grim surroundings. He wanted to sweep the debris off his desk into the wastebasket and out of her sight. To his horror, he actually felt faint color stealing up his neck. He was known throughout the precinct as a cop married to the department, completely cynical, no feelings whatsoever. But his hormones had kicked into high gear and seemed to be working overtime.

Johnson cleared his throat twice, trying not to make an ass of himself. "We appreciate your coming in like this to help us out. Thank you for identifying the body; I know it must have been difficult for you." He waited, but when neither spoke, he went on. "We'd like to clear up a few things concerning that night. We already have statements from security and the drivers who loaded the truck. You both seem to have an airtight alibi, Ms. Dubrinsky. Security saw you leave and saw Peter on the loading dock. Peter never drove out. When was the last time you saw Peter Sanders alive?"

Savannah knew that Gregori had planted the scene in the minds of the security personnel as they had left the stadium that horrible night. "Detective Johnson," she began.

Her voice was every bit as beautiful as she was. "Call me David," he found himself saying to his complete astonishment.

Her husband stirred, a slight rippling of muscles, a suggestion of danger. Those brilliant, slashing eyes settled on Johnson's face, touching him with cold air, the vision of an empty grave, a shiver of death. He swallowed nervously, suddenly glad it was not one of his new detectives assigned to this bizarre case. Johnson could almost believe that this man was perfectly capable of killing someone. What was a woman like Savannah Dubrinsky doing with such a man?

"I picked Savannah up an hour or so after her performance," Gregori informed him softly while Savannah sat with her head bowed, twisting her fingers together. Anguish radiated from her, turning Gregori's heart of stone to mush. He was fully aware of the detective's thoughts and purposely dropped his voice an octave lower. Anyone with half a brain would see he was dangerous; it wasn't easy to hide that kind of thing, and Gregori didn't particularly feel like doing so. "The props were being loaded into the trucks, and most of the workers had already left," he said softly.

Johnson found himself hanging on to every word, listening to the pitch and cadence of the voice. It was like a running brook. This man, this Gregori, was honest, had integrity. Johnson shifted position, leaning across the desk toward the man. He couldn't help himself; it was almost as if he was mesmerized.

"Peter was alive and well at that point," Gregori went on softly. "We talked for a few minutes, perhaps as long as half an hour. The truck with the props was pulling away just as we decided to leave. Peter walked to his car but called back to us that he had left his keys on the loading platform."

Savannah ducked her head, feeling a shudder run through her. She was pale but composed. Inside, she could hear herself screaming in outrage, in sorrow. Gregori appeared not to move, yet his body was touching hers so that his warmth could seep into her skin. It amazed her, the perfectly acceptable tale he wove in his beautiful voice. No one would ever question him. How could they, when he controlled all within hearing of his voice?

"That was the last you saw of him alive?" Johnson asked.

Savannah nodded. Gregori laced his fingers through hers. "Peter was our friend as well as our business associate. He handled everything for Savannah. Without Peter, there is no show. I have many businesses that keep me extremely busy. Peter took care of every detail of the magic shows for us. As you can imagine, this is devastating for my wife. For both of us. We should have waited