was nothing, no one tangible yet, to fight.
Which left only the flight response, Abby decided abruptly. Whirling, she headed for the bedroom. The blackmailer couldn't do much if he or she couldn't reach the victim. There was always the possibility that he might go straight to Cynthia with the pictures, but that didn't seem entirely logical. There was no money to be had that way.
No, it seemed more probable that the blackmailer would first try to find the intended victim. And if the intended victim were out of town, it might just give Abby the breathing space she needed to figure out what was going on and who was attempting to threaten her.
The decision to run gave her a sense of taking some action instead of offering herself as an easy target. It was an illusory sense of action. She knew it even as she showered, dressed in jeans and a narrow ribbed-knit red sweater, and began to pack. But instinct told her that the blackmailer would seek her out and if it took a while to hunt her down, she might be able to use that time to do something constructive. If she could lure whoever it was out into the open, identify him or her, she might be able to retaliate.
Not knowing how long she would be gone, Abby forced herself to pack carefully. It was April, early spring in the
Pacific Northwest and that meant the weather was still chilly most days. She piled sweaters and slacks into her largest suitcase and then selected enough underwear to last for a week. She could always wash out necessities in a hotel room.
Hotel room. What hotel room? Where was she going to go, she asked herself. And what about the deliveries scheduled to be picked up during the week by her salespeople?
More time was spent as she got on the phone and arranged to have her top saleswoman handle distribution. Gail Farley was willing, if mildly surprised.
"Sure, I'll come over right now and collect the boxes. But when will you be back, Abby?"
"I'm not sure. Something's come up and I could be gone a couple of weeks. I'll tell the apartment manager to let you into my place if you need more supplies, okay?"
Then there was the impatient wait for Gail to arrive and collect enough boxes to last the salespeople for at least a week. By the time the other woman had driven off with a selection of MegaLife products stacked high in the back seat of her car, it was after twelve.
Abby took a last glance around the apartment and then spotted her own private collection of vitamin bottles. Hastily she gathered them up and dumped them into a small zippered bag. If she'd ever needed vitamins and minerals, it was now! Just before she closed the bag she reached inside, retrieved the bottle of vitamin C tablets and popped a couple into her mouth. This was no time to leave herself open to the possibility of colds or flu.
Abby wondered if she might have overpacked when she realized she could hardly drag her large suitcase to the front door. But how could anyone guess how long she'd be gone in a situation like this? Better to have overpacked than underpacked. With a great deal of pushing and shoving she got the case into position by the door and was going back to the bedroom for her coat when the doorbell rang.
It was then that she remembered the date with Torr Latimer. A horrified glance at the clock showed that it was ten to one.
"Damn!" Now she was going to have to make up some very hasty explanations for breaking the date. Why hadn't she thought to telephone him earlier? He probably wasn't going to appreciate arriving at her door and discovering that she was on her way out of town.
"I'm awfully sorry. I was just going to call you," she began firmly as she threw open the door and found him standing there. He was dressed in his usual conservative style, wearing a tan long-sleeved shirt and dark brown slacks. A soft suede jacket was folded neatly over one arm. Abby realized it must be drizzling rain outside because there was a glistening dampness about his dark hair.
Torr looked
Which left only the flight response, Abby decided abruptly. Whirling, she headed for the bedroom. The blackmailer couldn't do much if he or she couldn't reach the victim. There was always the possibility that he might go straight to Cynthia with the pictures, but that didn't seem entirely logical. There was no money to be had that way.
No, it seemed more probable that the blackmailer would first try to find the intended victim. And if the intended victim were out of town, it might just give Abby the breathing space she needed to figure out what was going on and who was attempting to threaten her.
The decision to run gave her a sense of taking some action instead of offering herself as an easy target. It was an illusory sense of action. She knew it even as she showered, dressed in jeans and a narrow ribbed-knit red sweater, and began to pack. But instinct told her that the blackmailer would seek her out and if it took a while to hunt her down, she might be able to use that time to do something constructive. If she could lure whoever it was out into the open, identify him or her, she might be able to retaliate.
Not knowing how long she would be gone, Abby forced herself to pack carefully. It was April, early spring in the
Pacific Northwest and that meant the weather was still chilly most days. She piled sweaters and slacks into her largest suitcase and then selected enough underwear to last for a week. She could always wash out necessities in a hotel room.
Hotel room. What hotel room? Where was she going to go, she asked herself. And what about the deliveries scheduled to be picked up during the week by her salespeople?
More time was spent as she got on the phone and arranged to have her top saleswoman handle distribution. Gail Farley was willing, if mildly surprised.
"Sure, I'll come over right now and collect the boxes. But when will you be back, Abby?"
"I'm not sure. Something's come up and I could be gone a couple of weeks. I'll tell the apartment manager to let you into my place if you need more supplies, okay?"
Then there was the impatient wait for Gail to arrive and collect enough boxes to last the salespeople for at least a week. By the time the other woman had driven off with a selection of MegaLife products stacked high in the back seat of her car, it was after twelve.
Abby took a last glance around the apartment and then spotted her own private collection of vitamin bottles. Hastily she gathered them up and dumped them into a small zippered bag. If she'd ever needed vitamins and minerals, it was now! Just before she closed the bag she reached inside, retrieved the bottle of vitamin C tablets and popped a couple into her mouth. This was no time to leave herself open to the possibility of colds or flu.
Abby wondered if she might have overpacked when she realized she could hardly drag her large suitcase to the front door. But how could anyone guess how long she'd be gone in a situation like this? Better to have overpacked than underpacked. With a great deal of pushing and shoving she got the case into position by the door and was going back to the bedroom for her coat when the doorbell rang.
It was then that she remembered the date with Torr Latimer. A horrified glance at the clock showed that it was ten to one.
"Damn!" Now she was going to have to make up some very hasty explanations for breaking the date. Why hadn't she thought to telephone him earlier? He probably wasn't going to appreciate arriving at her door and discovering that she was on her way out of town.
"I'm awfully sorry. I was just going to call you," she began firmly as she threw open the door and found him standing there. He was dressed in his usual conservative style, wearing a tan long-sleeved shirt and dark brown slacks. A soft suede jacket was folded neatly over one arm. Abby realized it must be drizzling rain outside because there was a glistening dampness about his dark hair.
Torr looked
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