OTHERTITLESBYJAYNEANNKRENTZ
RiverRoad
DreamEyes
CopperBeach
InTooDeep
FiredUp
RunningHot
SizzleandBurn
WhiteLies
AllNightLong
FallingAwake
TruthorDare
LightinShadow
SummerinEclipseBay
SmokeinMirrors
DawninEclipseBay
Lost&Found
EclipseBay
SoftFocus
EyeoftheBeholder
Flash
SharpEdges
DeepWaters
Absolutely,Positively
TrustMe
GrandPassion
HiddenTalents
WildestHearts
FamilyMan
PerfectPartners
SweetFortune
SilverLinings
TheGoldenChance
BYJAYNEANNKRENTZWRITINGAS
AMANDAQUICK
OtherwiseEngaged
TheMysteryWoman
CrystalGardens
Quicksilver
BurningLamp
PerfectPoison
ThirdCircle
TheRiverKnows
SecondSight
LieByMoonlight
WaitUntilMidnight
ThePaidCompanion
LatefortheWedding
Don’tLookBack
SlightlyShady
WickedWidow
ITheeWed
Seduction
Affair
Mischief
Mystique
Mistress
Deception
Desire
Dangerous
Reckless
Ravished
Rendezvous
Scandal
Surrender
WithThisRing
BYJAYNEANNKRENTZWRITINGAS
JAYNECASTLE
TheLostNight
CanyonsofNight
MidnightCrystal
ObsidianPrey
DarkLight
SilverMaster
GhostHunter
AfterGlow
Harmony
AfterDark
Amaryllis
Zinnia
Orchid
G.P.Putnam’sSons
PublishersSince1838
PublishedbythePenguinGroup
PenguinGroup(USA)LLC
375HudsonStreet
NewYork,NewYork10014
USA•Canada•UK•Ireland•Australia•
NewZealand•India•SouthAfrica•China
penguin.com
APenguinRandomHouseCompany
Copyright©2015byJayneAnnKrentz
Penguinsupportscopyright.Copyrightfuels
creativity,encouragesdiversevoices,
promotesfreespeech,andcreatesavibrant
culture.Thankyouforbuyinganauthorized
editionofthisbookandforcomplyingwith
copyrightlawsbynotreproducing,scanning,
ordistributinganypartofitinanyform
withoutpermission.Youaresupporting
writersandallowingPenguintocontinueto
publishbooksforeveryreader.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-inPublicationData
Krentz,JayneAnn.
Trustnoone/JayneAnnKrentz.
p.cm.
ISBN978-1-101-62100-4
I.Title.
PS3561.R44T78420152014023348
813'.54—dc23
Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,
places,andincidentseitheraretheproductof
theauthor’simaginationorareused
fictitiously,andanyresemblancetoactual
persons,livingordead,businesses,
companies,events,orlocalesisentirely
coincidental.
Version_1
ForFrank.Ipositivelylove
you.
Contents
OtherTitlesbyJayneAnn
Krentz
TitlePage
Copyright
Dedication
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ChapterTwenty-Nine
ChapterThirty
ChapterThirty-One
ChapterThirty-Two
ChapterThirty-Three
ChapterThirty-Four
ChapterThirty-Five
ChapterThirty-Six
ChapterThirty-Seven
ChapterThirty-Eight
ChapterThirty-Nine
ChapterForty
ChapterForty-One
ChapterForty-Two
ChapterForty-Three
ChapterForty-Four
ChapterForty-Five
ChapterForty-Six
ChapterForty-Seven
ChapterForty-Eight
ChapterForty-Nine
ChapterFifty
ChapterFifty-One
GardenOfLiesExcerpt
One
T
henotepinnedto
thefrontofthedead
man’ssilkpajamas
wasaone-sentenceemail
printedoutfromacomputer:
MakeTodayaGreatDaythe
WitherspoonWay.
GraceEllandleanedover
theblood-soakedsheetsand
forcedherselftotouchthe
coldskinofSprague
Witherspoon’sthroat.His
blueeyes,oncesobrilliant
andcompelling,wereopen.
Hestaredsightlesslyatthe
bedroomceiling.Arobust,
square-jawedmanwitha
maneofsilverhair,hehad
alwaysseemedlarger-thanlife.Butdeathhadshrunk
him.Allofthecharmand
electrifyingcharismathathad
captivatedtheWitherspoon
Wayseminaraudiences
acrossthecountryhadbeen
drainedaway.
Shewascertainthathehad
beengoneforseveralhours
butshethoughtshedetecteda
faint,accusingquestioninhis
unseeingeyes.Shattering
memoriessplinteredthrough
her.Attheageofsixteenshe
hadseenthesamequestionin
theeyesofadeadwoman.
Whydidn’tyougetherein
timetosaveme?
Shelookedawayfromthe
deadeyes—andsawthe
unopenedbottleofvodkaon
thenightstand.
Foraterriblemomentpast
andpresentmergedtherein
thebedroom.Sheheardthe
echoofheavyfootstepson
oldfloorboards.Panic
threatenedtochokeher.This
couldnotbehappening,not
again.It’stheolddream,she
thought.You’reinthemiddle
ofanightmarebutyou’re
awake.Breathe.Focus,damn
it,andbreathe.
Breathe.
Themantrabrokethe
panic-inducedtrance.The
echoingfootstepsfadedinto
thepast.Ice-coldadrenaline
splashedthroughherveins,
bringingwithitanintense
clarity.Thiswasnotadream.
Shewasinaroomwitha
deadmanand,althoughshe
wasalmostcertainthatthe
footstepshadbeensummoned
upfromhernightmare,there
wasstilltheveryreal
possibilitythatthekillerwas
stillaround.
Shegrabbedthenearest
availableweapon—thevodka
bottle—andmovedtothe
doorway.Thereshepausedto
listenintently.Thebighouse
feltempty.Perhapsthe
footstepshadbeenan
auditoryillusiongeneratedby
thepanickymemories.Or
not.Eitherway,thesmart
thingtodowasgetoutofthe
mansionandcall911.
Shemovedintothe
hallway,tryingtomakeas
littlenoiseaspossible.Afog
ofshadowsdarkenedthebig
house.Therewereelegant
pottedplantseverywhere—
vibrantgreenbamboo,palms
andferns.Spraguehadfirmly
believedthattheabundant
foliagenotonlyimproved
indoorairquality,but
enhancedthepositiveenergy
intheatmosphere.
Thecurtainsthatcovered
thewindowshadbeenclosed
forthenight.Noonehad
beenalivetodrawthemback
thatmorning.Notthatit
wouldhavedonemuchgood.
TheSeattlewinterdawnhad
arrivedwithalow,overcast
skyandnowrainwastapping
atthewindows.Ondayslike
this,mostpeopleturnedona
fewlights.
Noonerushedoutofa
doorwaytoconfronther.
Grippingtheneckofthe
vodkabottleverytightly,she
wentdownthebroad
staircase.Whenshereached
thebottom,sheflewacross
thegrandlivingroom.
Sheknewherwayaround
thefirstfloorofthehouse
becauseSprague
Witherspoonhadentertained
lavishlyandoften.Healways
invitedGraceandtheother
membersoftheWitherspoon
Waystafftohiscatered
affairs.
Thevastgreatroomhad
beenfurnishedanddecorated
withthoseeventsinmind.
Thechairs,cushioned
benchesandtableswere
arrangedinwhatdesigners
calledconversational
groupings.Therewasalotof
expensiveartonthewalls.
SpragueWitherspoonhad
livedthelifestylehehadtried
toteachinhisseminars,and
themotivationalbusinesshad
beengoodtohim.With
Spragueithadbeenallabout
positivethinkingandan
optimisticattitude.
Butnowsomeonehad
murderedhim.
Shewhippedthroughthe
frontdoorandoutintothe
beautifullymanicured
gardens.Shedidnotstopto
pullupthehoodofherjacket.
Bythetimeshereachedher
littlecompactwaitinginthe
sweepingcirculardriveway
herhairandfacewere
soaked.
Shegotbehindthewheel,
lockedallofthedoors,put
thevodkabottleonthefloor
andgunnedtheengine.She
drovethroughthehighsteel
gatesthatguardedtheQueen
Annemansionandoutonto
thequietresidentialstreet.
Onceoutsidethegrounds
shebroughtthecartoahalt
andreachedintohercrossbodybagforherphone.It
provedamazinglydifficultto
enter911becauseherhands
wereshakingsohard.When
shefinallygotthroughtothe
operatorshehadtocloseher
eyesinordertoconcentrate
ongettingthefactsstraight.
Breathe.
“SpragueWitherspoonis
dead.”Shewatchedthebig
gateswhilesherattledoffthe
address.“Atleast,Ithinkhe’s
dead.Icouldn’tfindapulse.
Itlookslikehe’sbeenshot.
Thereis...alotofblood.”
Morememoriesflashed
throughherhead.Amanwith
afacerenderedintoabloody
mask.Bloodrainingdownon
her.Bloodeverywhere.
“Isthereanyoneelseinthe
house,ma’am?”Themale
operator’svoicewassharp
andurgent.“Areyouin
danger?”
“Idon’tthinkso.I’m
outsidenow.Afewminutes
agoIwentintocheckonMr.
Witherspoonbecausehe
didn’tshowupattheoffice
thismorning.Thegateswere
openandthefrontdoorwas
unlocked.Thealarmwasoff.
Ididn’tthinkanythingabout
itbecauseIassumedhewas
outinthegardens.WhenI
couldn’tfindhimoutside,I
wentintothehouse.Icalled
outtohim.Whenhedidn’t
respondIworriedthathehad
fallenorbecomeill.Helives
alone,yousee,and—”
Shutup,Grace.You’re
rambling.Youmuststay
focused.Youcanhavea
panicattacklater.
“Stayoutside,”the
operatorsaid.“I’vegot
respondersontheway.”
“Yes,allright.”
Graceendedthe
connectionandlistenedtothe
sirensinthedistance.
Itwasn’tuntilthefirst
vehiclebearingthelogoof
theSeattlePoliceDepartment
cametoastopinfrontofher
carthatsheremembereda
factthateveryonewho
watchedtelevisioncrime
dramasknewwell.Whenit
cametosuspects,copsalways
lookedhardatthepersonwho
foundthebody.
Shehadafeelingthatthe
investigatorswouldlookeven
morecloselyatasuspectwho
hadahistoryofstumbling
overdeadbodies.
Breathe.
Shelookeddownatthe
bottlesittingonthefloorof
hercar.Dreadicedherblood.
Don’tpanic.Alotof
peopledrinkvodka.
Buttheonlythingsshehad
everseenSpraguedrinkwere
greenteaandexpensivewhite
wine.
Shefoundatissueinher
bagandusedittopickupthe
bottle.Notthatitmattered
muchnow.Herfingerprints
werealloverit.
Two
I supposethethreeofuscan
onlybethankfulthatwe’ve
allgotreasonablygood
alibis,”MillicentChartwell
said.Shesanklanguidly
againstthebackofthebooth
andregardedhermartiniwith
aforlornexpression.“Ididn’t
likethewaythatcute
detectivewaswatchingme
todaywhenIgavemy
statement.”
“Hewasn’texactlysmiling
atme,”Gracesaid.Shetook
asipofherwhitewine.“In
fact,ifIweren’tthe
optimistictype,I’dsayhe
waslookingforanexcuseto
arrestmeforSprague’s
murder.”
KristyForsythputdown
herwineglass.Tearsglittered
inhereyes.“Ican’tbelieve
Mr.Witherspoonisgone.I
keepthinkingtheremusthave
beenahorriblecaseof
mistakenidentityandthat
he’llcomestridingthrough
thedooroftheoffice
tomorrowmorningtheway
healwaysdoes,withsome
fresh-bakedsconesor
doughnutsforus.”
“Therewasnomistake,”
Gracesaid.“Isawhim.And
NylaWitherspoonidentified
herfather’sbody.Iwasstill
atthehousetalkingtothe
policewhenshearrivedon
thescene.Shewasseriously
distraught.Intears.Shaky.
Honestly,Ithoughtshewas
goingtofaint.”
Itwasjustafterfive
o’clock.Thethreeofthem
wereexhaustedand,Grace
knew,stilldazed.Aclose
encounterwithmurderhadan
unnervingeffectonmost
people.Sheandheroffice
colleagueshadnotonlylosta
greatboss,theyhadjustlost
theirjobs.Theywereallof
theopinionthatworkingfor
theWitherspoonWayhad
beenthebestthingthathad
everhappenedtothem,
career-wise.Theirliveshad
beenturnedupsidedownby
Sprague’smurder.
Aftergivingtheir
statements,Millicenthad
suggestedgoingforadrink.
Therewasunanimous
agreement.Theywerenow
seatedinaboothintheir
favoriteafter-workspot,a
cozytavernandcafénearthe
PikePlaceMarket.
Thedaywasendingthe
wayithadbegun,withrain
andgloom.Thewinter
solsticehadpassedafew
weeksearlier.Thedayswere
becomingperceptiblylonger
—Seattleiteswerekeen
observersofthenuancesin
theever-changingpatternsof
sunlight—buttheearly
eveningtwilightmadeitseem
asifitwasstillDecemberon
thecalendar.
Millicentsippedher
martiniandnarrowedher
eyes.“IfIwerethepolice,the
firstsuspectonmylistwould
beNylaWitherspoon.”
AsSprague’sbookkeeper
andfinancialmanager,
Millicenthadatendencyto
gostraighttothebottomline,
regardlessofthesubject.She
wasavivacious,curvy
redheadwithatastefor
martinisandtheoccasional
barhookup.
Millicenthadbeen
workingforSpraguefor
nearlyayearbeforeGrace
hadjoinedtheWitherspoon
Wayteam.Onthesurface,
sheseemedtohaveitall—
filmstar–levelglamouranda
computerforabrain.Shehad
usedbothtomakeherwayin
theworld.WhatMillicentdid
nothavewasafamily.Her
pastwasmurky.Shedidnot
liketodiscussit.Butshehad
oncesaidthatshelefthome
attheageofsixteenandhad
nointentionofeverreturning.
Shewasasurvivor.Inspite
oftheoddsagainsther,she
hadlandedadroitlyonher
stilettoheels.
Kristyblinkedawayafew
moretears.“Nyladoeshave
themosttogainfrom
Sprague’sdeath,doesn’tshe?
Butshe’shisdaughter,for
heaven’ssake.Weallknow
thatshehadissueswithhim.
Itwasatroubledrelationship.
Still,murderingherfather?”
Kristywasthemostrecent
memberoftheWitherspoon
team.Bornandraisedina
smalltowninIdaho,shehad
movedtoSeattleinsearchof
adventureand—asshehad
explainedtoGraceand
Millicent—moreoptionsin
husbands.Withherlight
brownhair,warmeyesand
prettyfeatures,shewas
attractiveinasweet,
wholesomewaythatwent
downwellwiththe
Witherspoonclients.
UnlikeMillicent,Kristy
wasclosetoherfamily.
Althoughshehadconfidedto
hercoworkersthatshedidnot
wanttomarryafarmer,itwas
clearthatshehadadeepand
abidingaffectionforthe
bucolicworldshehadleft
behind.Shewasforever
regalingtheofficestaffwith
humorousstoriesabout
growinguponafarm.
GraceandMillicenthad
privatelyspeculatedthat
Spraguehadfeltsorryfor
Kristy,whohadfoundherself
strugglinginthebigcity.
Perhapsgivingherajobhad
been,inpart,anactof
kindnessbackatthe
beginning.Butsomewhatto
everyone’samazement,
Kristyhadquicklydisplayed
aninvaluableflairfortravel
logisticsandanabilityto
charmclients.Asthedemand
forWitherspoonWay
seminarshadgrown,sohad
theworkinvolvedin
coordinatingSprague’sbusy
schedule.Businesshadbeen
sobrisklatelythatSprague
hadbeenonthevergeof
hiringanassistantforKristy.
“Itwouldn’tbethefirst
timeanheirhashurried
thingsalong,”Millicent
pointedout.“Besides,we
knowthatNylawasfurious
withSprague.Theyargued
constantly.Thingsbetween
themonlygotworsewhen
Mr.Perfectcamealong.
Spraguedidn’tapproveof
himandthatjustmadeNyla
angrier.Ithinkshewasready
todojustaboutanythingto
getherhandsonher
inheritance.Shehated
Spragueforputtingheronan
allowance.”
“Well,sheisanadult,nota
child,”Gracepointedout.
“Ifyouaskme,she
decidedshedidn’twantto
waitanylongerforthe
money,”Millicentsaid.She
swallowedsomemoreofher
martini,loweredtheglassand
fixedGraceandKristywitha
grimexpression.“Ithink
there’ssomethingelsewe
shouldkeepinmind.”
Kristyfrowned.“What?”
Millicentpluckedthelittle
plasticspearoutofthe
martiniandmunchedthe
olive.“It’struethatNylahad
issueswithherfatherbutshe
wasn’tveryfondofthethree
ofus,either.Wehadbetter
watchourbacks.”
Kristy’seyeswidened.
“Jeez,you’reserious,aren’t
you?”
“Oh,yeah,”Millicentsaid.
Gracepickedupherglass
andtookasip.Thewinewas
startingtosoftentheedgy
sensationthathadbeenriding
herhardalldaybutsheknew
fromexperiencethatthe
effectswouldnotlast.She
toldherselftothinkpositive
butshehadabadfeelingthat
theolddreamwouldreturn
thatnight.
ShestudiedMillicent.“Do
youreallythinkNylaisa
threat?”
Millicentshrugged.“I’m
justsayingitwouldbeagood
ideatobecarefulforawhile.
I’mtellingyou,Nyla
Witherspoonisunstable.She
andSpraguehadwhatcan
onlybecalledafraught
relationshipbutthecapper
wasthenewfiancé.”
“BurkeMarrick,”Kristy
said.Shemadeaface.“AKA
Mr.Perfect.”
“Youknowwhat?”
Millicentsaid.“Burke
MarrickwasSprague’sworst
nightmare.Spraguewas
alwaysworriedthatsome
good-looking,fast-talking
conmanwouldcomealong
andsweepNylaoffherfeet.
WhydoyouthinkSprague
insistedonpayingherbills
andkeepingheronan
allowance?Hewastryingto
protecther.”
Kristysniffed.“Small
countriescouldliveonNyla’s
allowance.”
“Theactualamountis
besidethepoint.”Millicent
aimedtheolivespearat
Kristy.“Ifthere’sonethingI
know,it’smoney,andIknow
howpeoplereacttoit.Trust
me,nooneeverthinksthey
haveenough.Nylacouldn’t
standthethoughtthatthe
bulkofherinheritancewas
tiedupinaspecialtrustthat
shecouldnotaccessuntilher
father’sdeath.AndI’vegota
hunchMr.Perfectwas
pushingherhardtogetahold
ofthemoney.”
Agrimsilencesettledon
thetable.Gracereflectedon
thefactthattheyhadallhad
theirrun-inswithSprague’s
temperamentaldaughter.
Nylahadseemedjealousof
thethreeofthem.Nowshe
wouldhaveherinheritanceto
gowithhercharmingfiancé.
Fromacertainperspective,
lifewassuddenlylooking
quiterosyforNyla.Andfor
Mr.Perfect.
Graceclearedherthroat.
“Youdorealizewhatyou’re
saying,Millicent.Ifyou’re
right,thatmeansthatBurke
Marrickisalsoasuspect.”
Kristyputherglassdown
veryquickly.“WhatifNyla
andBurkeplannedSprague’s
murdertogether?”
Millicentshrugged.
“Wouldn’tsurpriseme.”
“Ithinkwehadbetterhold
offontheconspiracy
theories,”Gracesaid.“If
you’regoingtomakealistof
suspects,you’llneedareally
bigsheetofpaper.”
KristyandMillicent
lookedather.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Kristyasked.“Spraguewas
sonice.Sogenerous.”
Understandinggleamedin
Millicent’seyes.“You’re
right,Grace.AfterNylaand
Marrick,thenextnameonthe
listjusthastobeLarson
Rayner.”
“Weallknowtherewas
notalotofpositiveenergy
lostbetweenLarsonand
Sprague,”Gracesaid.
“Nothinglikeafalling-out
betweenbusinesspartnersto
createmotive.”
“That’strue,”Kristysaid.
“RememberhowLarson
stormedintotheofficelast
monthandaccusedSprague
ofstealinghisclients?”
“Professionalenvyanda
strongdoseofjealousy,notto
mentionadeclinein
revenues.”Millicentsmiled.
Hergreeneyesgleamed.
“Greatmotivesformurder.”
ShelookedatGrace.“I
wonderifLarsonrealizesthat
you’rethereasonwhy
Sprague’sbusinesstookoffa
yearandahalfago.”
Gracefeltherselfturning
pink.“Thatisagross
exaggeration.Ihadafew
ideasandSpragueletmerun
withthem,that’sall.”
“Bullshit,”Millicentsaid
cheerfully.“Beforeyoucame
along,SpragueWitherspoon
wasjustanothermotivational
speakerinaverycrowded
field.You’retheonewho
launchedthebusinessintothe
bigtime.”
“Millicentisright,”Kristy
said.“IfpoorSpraguehadn’t
beenmurderedlastnight,he
wouldhavebecomethe
numberoneself-helpguruin
thecountrywithinafew
months,thankstoyou.”
“TheWitherspoonWay
wasdoingwellbeforeyou
camealong,”Millicentsaid.
“Butthereallybigmoney
didn’tstartrollinginuntil
afterthecookbookwas
published.Theaffirmationof-the-dayblogcaughtfire
afterthat.Duringthepastfew
months,Kristycouldn’t
confirmspeaking
engagementsandseminars
fastenough.Isn’tthatright,
Kristy?”
“Yes.”Kristysmiled
reminiscently.“Spraguewas
ontheroadeveryweek.I
don’tknowhowhedidit.But
henevercomplainedwhenI
bookedback-to-back
seminars.”
“Helovedit,”Gracesaid.
“Hethrivedonthetraveland
thecrowds.Hehadsomuch
charismaandsuchan
incredibleabilityto
communicatewithan
audience.”
Kristynoddedsagely.“But
itwasthecookbookandthe
affirmationblogthatputthe
WitherspoonWayoverthe
top.You’retheonewho
cameupwithbothprojects.”
“Thecookbookandblog
wouldneverhaveworkedif
theyhadn’tbeendoneunder
theWitherspoonname,”
Gracesaid.“AllIdidwas
dreamupsomemarketing
ideasthatsuitedSprague’s
approachtopositive
thinking.”
“It’scalledbranding,”
Millicentsaid.“Iwouldn’tbe
surprisedifyougetacall
fromLarsonRaynersoon
makingyouanofferyou
can’trefuse.”
Kristybrightened.“Maybe
he’llofferallthreeofus
positionsinhisfirm.Weare,
orrather,wewereSprague’s
team.Larsonmustrealizethat
we’vegotexactlythe
qualificationsheneedsto
takehimtothetop.”
“True,”Gracesaid.“But
youmightwanttorethink
thatcareerpathifitturnsout
thatLarsonRaynerisa
suspectinSprague’smurder.
Couldbetoughtobookfuture
seminarsforhim.”
Kristywinced.“Thereis
thatlittleproblem.”
“Asforthatlistofsuspects
weweretalkingabout,”
Gracesaid,“itdoesn’tend
withNyla,BurkeandLarson
Rayner.You’llhavetoadd
thoseoddanddisgruntled
seminarattendees—thefolks
whoemailedSpragueto
complainbecausetheirlives
didnotundergoadramatic
changeaftertheystarted
practicingtheWitherspoon
Way.”
“Well,shit,”Millicentsaid.
“You’reright,Grace.That
wouldmakeforaverylong
list.”
Kristysighed.“Itmaybe
sortoftackyunderthe
circumstancesbutIcan’thelp
noticingthatifLarsonRayner
isonthesuspectlist,ourpool
ofpotentialemployersis
goingtobeextremelysmall.I
don’timaginetherearealot
offolksouttherelookingfor
peoplewhopossesstheskills
requiredtomanagetheoffice
ofamotivationalspeaker.”
“Ontheotherhand,”
Millicentsaid,goingvery
thoughtful,“ifRayneris
clearedasasuspect,he’s
goingtoneedus.Iwonderif
heknowsthat?”
Gracepickedupherwine.
“Timeforsomeserious
positivethinking,asSprague
wouldsay.”
“WeneedaWitherspoon
affirmationforsuccessfuljob
hunting,”Kristyannounced.
ShegaveGraceamisty
smile.“You’rethe
affirmationwriterinthe
crowd.Gotoneforus?”
Millicentlaughed.“Well,
Grace?Whatwouldbea
goodWitherspoonWay
sayingforthoseofuswho
findourselvessuddenly
unemployed?”
Graceranonefingertip
aroundtherimofher
wineglassandgavethe
problemsomethought.
“IfSpraguewereherehe
wouldremindusthatnoone
findsaninterestingfutureby
stayingindoorsandwaiting
forasunnyday,”shesaid.
“Todiscoveryourfutureyou
mustgooutdoorsandtakea
walkintherain.”
“Thatsoundsaboutright,”
Kristysaid.Herwarmeyes
turnedsomberandserious.
“Don’tknowabouttherestof
you,butworkingforthe
WitherspoonWayreallydid
changemylife.”Sheraised
herwineglass.“Here’sto
SpragueWitherspoon.”
“ToSprague,”Millicent
said.
“ToSprague,”Gracesaid.
Millicentdownedthelast
ofhermartiniandsignaled
thewaiterforanotherround.
“Iprobablyshouldn’tsay
this,”shesaid,“givenhow
muchmoneyImadeworking
fortheWitherspoonWayand
absolutelynooffense
intendedtowardyou,Grace,
butIhavetotellyouthatI
reallydetestthosedumbass
WitherspoonWay
affirmations.”
Three
T
hedreamwaslying
inwaitforher...
...Thewind
shriekingthroughtheold,
abandonedasylumcaughtthe
dooratthetopofthestairs
andslammeditshut.
Thedarknessofthe
basementclosedinaround
her.Itwassuddenlyhardto
breathe.Sheknewshecould
notallowherownfearto
show.Shehadtostaystrong
fortheboy.Hewas
unnaturallycalm,theway
peopleareindreams.He
clungtoherhandandlooked
upather.
Sheknewthathewas
waitingtoseeifshewould
savehim.Thatwaswhat
adultsweresupposedtodo—
savelittlekids.Shewantedto
tellhimthatshewasn’tareal
grown-up.Shewasonly
sixteenyearsold.
“He’scomingback,”the
boysaid.“Hehurtthatlady
andhe’sgoingtohurtus,
too.”
Sheaimedthecellphone
flashlightatthelongbundle
onthefloor.Herfirstthought
wasthatsomeonehadleftan
unrolledsleepingbaginthe
basement.Butitwasn’ta
sleepingbag.Theeyesofthe
deadwomanstaredupather
throughthethicklayersof
plastic.
Heavyfootstepsthudded
onthewoodenfloor
overhead.Hurriedlyshe
switchedofftheflashlight.
“Hide,”shesaidtotheboy
inthelanguageofdreams.
Thedooratthetopofthe
stepsopened.Theentranceto
thebasementwasonceagain
illuminatedwithanempty
graylight.Soonthemonster
wouldappear.
“It’stoolate,”theboy
said.“He’sherenow.”
Therewasasmall
prescriptionmedication
containeronthefloornear
thedeadwoman.Nexttoit
wasaliquorbottle.Shecould
notseethebrandonthe
bottlebutshecouldmakeout
thewordvodka.
Theonlywayoutwas
throughthedooratthetopof
thestairs...
Thepingoftheemailalert
broughtheroutofthe
nightmareonarushof
adrenalinethattightenedher
throatandicedherblood.For
afewsecondsherheart
poundedtothedarkrhythm
ofthekiller’sfootsteps.She
hoveredinthemurkyterrain
betweenthedreamstateand
thewakingstate.
Breathe.
Ithadbeenawhilesince
thedreamhadhauntedher
nightsbutshehadlongago
madethebreathingexercises
adailyroutine.Itwasoneof
threeritualsthatshepracticed
regularly.Allwererelatedto
thenightmareofthepast.
Shesatupquicklyonthe
edgeofthebedandfocused
onherbreath.Buttheedgy,
fight-or-flightsensation
threatenedtooverwhelmher.
Shecouldnotsitquietlyso
shegotup,wentoutintothe
livingroomandstartedto
pace.Sometimesittookafew
minutestocalmhernerves.
Thegentleglowofnightlightsilluminatedeveryroom
inthesmallapartment.In
addition,thedrapeswere
opentoallowthecitylights
topourinthroughher
fifteenth-floorwindow.She
didnotturnonanyofthe
regularlampsandceiling
fixturesbecauseshedidnot
wanttofurtherstimulateher
alreadyoverstimulated
senses.
Breathe.
Theimagesofthedream
flashedandflared,clawingat
herawarenessinanattempt
todragherdownintothe
dark,seethingpitofraw
panic.Herskinprickled.Her
pulsepounded.
Asshepaced,shemadethe
promisethatshealwaysmade
toherselfduringabadattack.
Ifshedidnotgetthingsunder
controlshewouldtakeadose
oftheanti-anxietymedication
thedoctorhadprescribed.In
thepastfewyearsthatvow,
combinedwiththebreathing
exercises,wasusually
sufficienttogetthrougheven
theworstepisodes.
Justgivethebreathing
exercisesachancetowork.
Themedsareinthedrawer.
Don’tworry,youcanhave
oneifyoureallyneedit.You
knewtonightwouldprobably
beabadnight.
Breathe.
Sheneededtogothrough
thedoor.Shehadtoget
outside.
Sheunlockedtheslider.
Colddampairswirledinto
theroom.Shesteppedout
ontothebalcony.Therain
hadstopped.Thejeweled
cityscapeofSeattlesparkled
aroundher.TheSpaceNeedle
glowedreassuringly,agiant
torchagainstthedarkness.
Shefocusedonthe
exercises.
Thethud-thud-thudofthe
killer’sfootstepsfadedback
intomemory.
Graduallyherpulse
steadiedandherbreathing
returnedtonormal.
Whenshewassureshe
wasbackincontrolshe
returnedtothelivingroom.
Sheclosedandlockedthe
slider.
“Crap,”shesaidaloudto
thesilentroom.
Andeveryonewondered
whyshehadnevermarried,
whysheneverletanyman
spendthenight.Panicattacks
werelikeearthquakes.It
wasn’tamatterofifthere
wouldbeanotherone.Itwas
onlyaquestionofwhenit
wouldstrike.Shehad
discoveredthehardwaythat
itmightbeweeks,monthsor
evenyearsbetweenattacks.
Oritcouldbetomorrow
night.Howdidawoman
explainthattoapotential
lover?
Maybe,ifhersociallife
everprogressedbeyondthe
short-term-relationship
patternshehaddeveloped,
shemightfindamanshe
couldentrustwithhersecrets.
Butsomehowthathadnotyet
happened.
Shehadovercomethe
shiveryjittersbutsheknew
shewouldnotbeabletogo
backtosleep,atleastnotfor
sometime.Ontheotherhand,
therewasnojobwaitingfor
herinthemorning,she
remindedherself.Shewas
freetosleeplate.Nowthat
wasatrulydepressing
thoughtbecauseshealways
gotupearly,evenafterabad
night.Shewasdoomedtobe
amorningperson.
Shewenttostandatthe
window.Althoughtherewere
anumberofcondotowers,
apartmentsandoffice
buildingsscatteredaround
her,shecouldseeawideslice
oftheQueenAnne
neighborhood.Thehillside
wasdottedwiththelightsof
theexclusiveresidencesthat
hadbeenbuilttheretotake
advantageoftheviews.
Tonightoneofthebighouses
wasdarkandempty.Sprague
Witherspoon’sbodywas
probablyincoldstoragein
themedicalexaminer’s
office,waitingtobe
autopsied.Thehuntforhis
killerhadbegun.
Shethoughtaboutthe
vodkabottlethatshehad
foundatthescene.Another
waveofanxietywhispered
throughhernerves.Ithadto
beacoincidence.Therewas
nootherexplanation.
Shesuddenlyremembered
thepingthathadshatteredthe
nightmare.Shewentback
intothebedroomandpicked
upthephone.Whenshesaw
thesender’snameshealmost
plungedstraightintoanother
full-blownpanicattack.Fora
fewbeatsshesimplystaredat
thescreeninstunned
disbelief.Thiscouldnotbe
happening.
SpragueWitherspoonhad
sentheranemailfrom
beyondthegrave.The
messagewasamacabretwist
ononeoftheWitherspoon
Wayaffirmations:
Eachdaybringsus
anotheropportunityto
changethefuture.
Congratulations,your
futurewillsoonbevery
different.
Four
W
ell,thatwasthe
mostawkward
eveningI’ve
spentinsometime,”Grace
said.“AndIincludethenight
ofmyhighschoolprom,
duringwhichIdiscovered
thatmydatewasdeeply
depressedbecausethegirlhe
hadwantedtobewithhad
turnedhimdown.”
“Youwantawkward?”
JuliusArkwrightasked.“Try
theannualbusinessdinner
andcharityauctionI’m
scheduledtoattendlaterthis
week.”
Gracegavethatsome
consideration.“Idon’tthink
thatqualifiesasawkward.A
businessdinnerandcharity
auctionsoundboring,not
awkward.”
“Yeah,boring,too,”Julius
agreed.“Iwillhavetomake
casualconversationwitha
bunchofpeoplewhoareas
dullasIam.Butthereally
awkwardpartcomeslater,
whenIdeliverthemost
boringafter-dinnerspeech
everwritten.Thecharity
auctionisn’tsobad.I’llbe
stuckbuyingapieceofart
thatIdon’twantbutthatisn’t
exactlyawkward.That’sjust
costly.”
Hedidn’tseemtocare
aboutthefinancialcostofthe
event,shenoticed.
Interesting.
Shehadbeenintroducedto
Juliusforthefirsttimethat
evening.Shebarelyknew
himbutshewasalready
certainthatherankedasthe
leastboringmanshehadever
met.Thatwas,however,
besidethepoint,shetold
herself.Theyweretalking
awkward,notboring,andshe
doubtedthatanybusiness
dinnercouldhavebeenas
unnervingastheblinddate
thatsheandJuliushadjust
endured.
Andthedatewasnotover
—notuntilshegotbackto
thelakehouse.Togetthere
shehadtoclamberintothe
frontseatofJulius’s
gleamingblackSUV.She
hatedSUVs.Theywerenot
designedforwomenwho
werefrequentlyobligedto
shopinthepetitedepartment.
Shetuckedhertrenchcoat
aroundherselfandtriedto
discreetlyraisethehemofher
pencil-slimskirtsothatshe
couldpositionherlefthighheeledsandalonthe
floorboardofthevehicle.
Reachingup,shegraspedthe
handholdinsidethecaband
preparedtohaulher
bodyweightupintothe
passengerseat.
Therewasnohopeof
negotiatingthebusiness
gracefully.Evenifshehad
beenwearingjeansand
athleticshoesshewouldhave
hadaproblem.Dressedina
snug-fittinglittleblackdress
andheelsthebestshecould
hopeforwastomakeitup
andintotheseatonthefirst
trywithaslittlebounceas
possible.
Shetightenedhergripon
thehandholdandpushedoff
withherrightfoot.
“Watchyourhead,”Julius
said.
Beforesherealizedwhat
heintendedshefelthishands
closearoundherwaist.He
liftedheraseasilyasifshe
wereasackofgroceriesand
ploppedheronthepassenger
seat.
Shetriedtocontrolher
trajectoryandlandingbutshe
bounced,anyway.Hercoat
fellopen,exposingalotof
innerthigh.Bythetimeshe
gotthingsundercontrol
Juliuswasclosingthedoor.
Crap.
Theawkwardnightwas
notshowinganysignsof
improving.Therewas
probablyanaffirmationfora
blinddategonebadbutwhat
shereallywantedwasa
therapeuticglassofwine.
ShewatchedJuliusround
thefrontoftheSUV.Fora
momenthishardprofileand
broadshoulderswere
silhouettedagainsttheporch
lightsoftheNakamurahouse.
Inspiteofallthewarnings
shehadbeengivingherself
thatevening,anunfamiliar
anddecidedlydangerous
senseofanticipationsparkled
throughher.Fortheduration
oftheshortdrivehomeshe
wasgoingtobealonewith
Julius.Thatwasprobablynot
agoodidea.
Heopenedthedoorand
climbedbehindthewheel.
Shewatchedhimangle
himselfintotheseatwiththe
easygraceofalargehunting
catsettlingintohighgrassto
waitforprey.
Well,ofcoursehehad
madetheprocesslookeasy.It
wasn’tasifsomeonehad
literallytossedhimupinto
theseat.
Heclosedthedoor.An
ominousbutratherexciting
senseofintimacyseethedin
thedarkinterioroftheSUV.
Atleastitseemedominous
andexcitingtoher.Julius
appearedblissfullyunaware
oftheedgyvibe.Hewasno
doubteagertodumpheron
herdoorstep.
Shefocusedherattention
ontheirhostsfortheevening.
IreneandDevlinNakamura
wavedcheerfullyfromthe
frontporchoftheirhome.
Irenewasatall,attractive
blondewhocouldtraceher
heritagebacktosomeofthe
manyNorwegianswhohad
settledinthePacific
Northwestattheendofthe
nineteenthcentury.Shewas
thekindofwomanwhocould
handlebeingthewifeofa
manwhoworkedinlaw
enforcement.Shewasalsoa
verysharpbusinesswoman
withafast-risinglocal
companythatspecializedin
high-endcookware.
DevlinNakamuraborethe
unmistakablestampofaman
otherslookedtoinacrisis.
Whichwasagoodthingina
policeofficer,Gracetold
herself—unlesshewas
lookingatyou.Heradiated
determinationandasternwill
andhehadcopeyes.Itwas
easytoimaginehimkicking
downadoor,orreadingyou
yourrights.Ifyouwerea
criminal,hewasnotthe
investigatoryouwantedon
yourtrail.Graceshivered.
Shehadnotbeensurprisedto
discoverthatDevlinand
JuliusArkwrighthadonce
servedtogetherinthe
Marines.
“I’msureIreneandDevlin
meantwell,”shesaid.
JuliusfireduptheSUV’s
bigengine.“Doyoualways
saythingslikethatafter
someonehasambushedyou
withablinddate?”
“Don’tbeso
melodramatic.Itwasn’tthat
bad.Just...awkward.”
Gracewascertainthat
Irene’smotiveshadbeen
well-intentioned.Sheand
Irenehadgrownuptogether.
Theyhadbeenclosefriends
sincekindergarten.
Devlin’smotives,however,
werequestionable.Hewas
relativelynewinIrene’slife.
Thepairhadmetshortlyafter
DevlinmovedtoCloudLake
ayearagotobecomethe
town’snewchiefofpolice.
GracehadbeenIrene’smaid
ofhonoratthewedding.
GracelikedDevlinandshe
sensedthathewasa
committedhusband.But
tonightshe’dhadtheuneasy
impressionthathewas
watchingherwiththesame
coldspeculationthatshehad
seenintheeyesoftheSeattle
homicidedetectivewhohad
questionedherafter
Sprague’smurdertendays
earlier.
“Okay,”Juliussaid.“We’ll
gowithawkwardasa
descriptionofthedate.For
now.”
Theamusementthatetched
hisdark,deep,deceptively
easygoingvoicesentanother
chillacrosshernerve
endings.Sheglancedathim.
Intheotherworldlyglowof
thecar’sinteriorlightshis
facewasunreadablebuthis
eyeswerealittletightatthe
outercorners,asifhewas
preparingtopullthetrigger
ofarifle.
Notthatsheknewmuch
aboutgunsorthetypeof
personwhousedthem,she
thought.Theonlymanofher
acquaintancewhoactually
carriedonewasDevlin.But
givenhisjob,shesupposed
thathehadsomebusiness
doingso.
Shehadtoadmitthatshe
wasprobablyatleastpartially
responsibleforthe
atmosphereofimpending
doomthathadhungoverthe
smalldinnerpartythat
evening.Theproblemwas
thatshewasnotdoinga
reallygreatjobofthinking
positivethesedays.
Stumblingontoamurder
scenewasboundtohave
someunpleasant
repercussions.Still,ithad
beentendayssinceshe
discoveredWitherspoon’s
bodyandthedarknesswas
notlifting.Ithoveredatthe
edgeofherconsciousness
duringtheday.Atnightit
sweptinlikethetide.Inspite
ofalotofmeditationand
positiveself-talkandthe
threerituals,thebadenergy
seemedtobegettingworse,
affectingherthoughtsandher
dreams.Bothweregrowing
darkerandmoreunsettling.
Andthedisturbingemails
fromadeadmanwerestill
arrivingeveryevening.
JuliuseasedtheSUVout
ofthedrivewayandonto
LakeCircleRoadwiththe
cool,competentcontrolthat
seemedtobeattheverycore
ofhischaracter.Theman
wouldmakeareallygood
friendoraverybadenemy,
shethought.Shedoubtedthat
hewasthepositive-thinking
type—morelikelyatactical
strategist.
Sherefusedtocontemplate
whatkindofloverhewould
be.
Whateveryoudo,don’tgo
there,shethought.
Shehadbeentootense—
tooaware—ofJuliusall
eveningtoconsiderthe
reasonswhyhedisturbedher
senses.Thebestshecould
comeupwithwastheold
warningabouticebergs—the
mostdangerouspartwas
hiddenunderthesurface.Her
feminineintuitiontoldher
thatJuliusArkwrighthada
lotgoingonunderthe
surface.Sowhat?Thesame
couldbesaidofeveryone.
Therewasnoreasontodwell
onJulius’sconcealedissues.
Shehadherownissuesthese
days.
Theonlyhardfactsthat
sheknewaboutJuliuswere
thebitsandpiecesthathad
comeoutinthecourseof
conversationthatevening.He
wasaventurecapitalist—a
verysuccessfulventure
capitalist,accordingtoIrene.
Otherinvestorsroutinely
entrustedgazillionsofdollars
toJuliustoinvestontheir
behalf.
Notthatshehadanything
againstmakingmoney,Grace
thought.Asithappened,
figuringouthowtogenerate
somefutureincomewasright
atthetopofherTo-Dolistat
themoment.Nothinglike
losingajobtomakeaperson
appreciatethevalueofsteady
employment.Sheshould
know—she’dlostcountof
thenumberofjobsshe’dhad
sinceleavingcollegetofind
herself.
Thepositionatthe
WitherspoonWay
headquartershadlasted
longerthananyofher
previouscareers—afull
eighteenmonths.Sheknew
hermotherandsisterhad
beguntohopethathereverprecariousjobsituationhad
finallystabilized.She’dhada
fewexpectationsthatmight
bethecase,aswell.
Juliusdroveata
surprisinglylowrateofspeed
alongthenarrow,two-lane
roadthatcircledthejagged
edgeofCloudLake.The
surfaceofthedeepwaterwas
adarkmirrorthatreflected
thecoldsilverlightofthe
moon.
Thesilenceinthefront
seatbecameoppressive.
Gracesearchedforawayto
endit.
“Thankyoufordrivingme
backtomyplace,”shesaid.
Shestruggledtoassumea
politetonebutsheknewshe
soundedalittlegruff.
“Noproblem,”Juliussaid.
“It’sonmyway.”
Thatmuchwastrue.The
lakefrontcottagethatJulius
hadrecentlypurchasedwas
lessthanhalfamilebeyond
thehouseinwhichGracehad
beenraised.Nevertheless,she
hadn’tanticipatedtheride
homewithhim.Shehadfully
intendedtodriveherselfto
theNakamuras’thatevening
butDevlinhadofferedtopick
herup.Shehadassumedthat
hewouldbetheonetotake
herhome.ButwhenJulius
hadpointedoutthathewould
begoingrightpasttheElland
houseandsaiditwouldbeno
troubletogiveGracealift,
therehadbeennogracious
waytorefuse—notwithIrene
andDevlinbothnodding
encouragingly.
Dinnerwouldnothave
beennearlyso
uncomfortable,Grace
thought,ifithadn’tbeenso
obviousthatIrenehadbeen
tryingherhandat
matchmaking.
Oddlyenough,nowthat
shefoundherselfalonewith
Julius,shecouldalmostsee
thehumorofthesituation.
Almost.Shesettleddeeper
intotheseat.
“Didyouknowaheadof
timethatIreneandDevlin
weresettingusup?”she
asked.
“Iwastoldtherewouldbe
anotherguest.”Julius’s
mouthedgedupwardatthe
corner.“Likeyousaid,they
meantwell.”
“Nowthatit’sover,I
supposeit’ssortoffunny.”
“Thinkso?”
“I’musedtopeopletrying
tosetmeupwithblind
dates,”Gracesaid.“My
motherandmysisterhave
madesomethingofahobby
outofdoingthatinthepast
coupleofyears.NowIrene
appearstobegivingita
whirl.Betweenyouandme,
they’reallgettingdesperate.”
“Butyou’renot
interested?”
“Oh,I’musually
interested,”Gracesaid.
“Justnottonight,isthatit?
Gotaproblemwiththefact
thatI’mdivorced?”
Histonewasalittletoo
neutral.Somuchformaking
lightconversation.Thiswas
gettingmoreawkwardbythe
moment.
Shetriedtosidestep.
“Nothingpersonal,really,”
shesaid.“It’sjustthatI’ve
gotafewotherprioritiesat
themoment.I’mtryingto
comeupwithanewcareer
pathandthatrequiresmyfull
attention.”
Juliusdidnotappear
interestedinherjobissues.
“Anyideawhythings
haven’tworkedoutwithany
ofyourotherdates?”he
asked.
Shewasstartingtogetthe
deer-in-the-headlights
feeling.
“It’sjustthatnothinghas
everclicked,”shesaid,very
cautiousnow.“Myfault,
accordingtoIreneandmy
family.”
“Whyisityourfault?”
“TheytellmethatIhavea
badhabitoftryingtofix
people.IfI’msuccessful,I
sendthemontheirwayandI
moveon,too.”
“Andifyoucan’tfix
them?”
Shetappedonefingeron
theconsolethatseparatedthe
seats.“Sameoutcome.Isend
themontheirwayandImove
on.”
“So,you’reaserial
heartbreaker?”
Shedidlaughthen.“Good
grief,no.I’mprettysureI’ve
neverbrokenanyman’s
heart.Mentendtothinkof
measafriend.Theytellme
theirtroubles.Wetalkabout
theirproblems.Ioffer
suggestions.Andthentheygo
offanddatethenextcute
blondetheymeetinabaror
thegood-lookingcoworkerat
theoffice.”
Juliusgaveherashort,
sharplook.“Hasyourheart
everbeenbroken?”
“Notsincecollege.Andin
hindsight,it’sagoodthinghe
didbreakmyheartbecause
therelationshipwasadisaster
forbothofus.Lotsofstorm
anddramabutnosubstance.”
Juliuswasquietfora
moment.“Lookingback,I
don’tthinktherewasany
stormanddramainmy
marriage.”
“Notevenatthevery
end?”
“Wewerebothrelieved
thatitwasallover,asI
recall.”
Thatwashardtobelieve,
Gracethought,butthelast
thingshewantedtodowas
digintothesubjectofhis
failedmarriage.Shewasnot
goingtotrytofixJulius
Arkwright.
“Mmm,”shesaidinstead.
“Don’tworry,Iwon’t
spendtherestofthedriveto
yourplaceunloadingonyou.
Youdon’twanttohearabout
mydivorceandIdon’twant
totalkaboutit.”
“Whew.”Gracepretended
towipeherbrow.“Goodto
know.”
Juliuslaughed.
Someofthetensionwent
outoftheatmosphere.She
relaxedalittlemoreand
searchedforaneutraltopic.
“Howlongwillyoube
stayinghereinCloudLake?”
sheasked.
“Iplantousethehouse
year-round.Ihaveacondoin
Seattlebutmostofmywork
isdoneonline.Withsome
exceptions,Icanworkhere
aswellasIcanatmyoffice.
CloudLakeisonlyanhour
fromthecity.I’llcommutea
coupleoftimesaweekto
makesurethingsstayon
track.”
Sheremindedherselfthat
Juliuswasaverysuccessful
venturecapitalist.He
probablyboughtlakeside
cottagesandcitycondosthe
waysheboughtnewshoes
anddresses.Notthatyou
wouldknowthattolookat
him,shethought.Inrecent
yearsthePacificNorthwest
hadprovenfertilegroundfor
start-upsandthesavvy
investors,likeJulius,who
fundedthebusinessesthathit
big.Therewasalotofnew
moneywalkingaroundthe
regionthesedaysandvery
littleofitgaveoffaflashy,
richvibe.Mostofitblended
inverywellwiththecrowd
thatshoppedfordealsat
Costcoandboughtmountain
bikesandall-weathergearat
REI.
Gracewasquitecertain
thatJulius’smoneywasnot
theoldkind.Hehadtheedge
ofaself-mademan—thekind
ofmanwhowasaccustomed
tofightingforwhathe
wanted.
“Thehouseyoubought
usedtobeownedbyyour
neighbor,HarleyMontoya,”
shesaid.“Iwassurprisedto
hearthathehadsoldit.He’s
ownedthatpropertyandthe
househelivesinfornearlya
decade.”
“Harleysaysit’stimeto
downsize.Whataboutyou?
Planningtostickaround
CloudLake?”
“Forawhile.NowthatI’m
unemployedIneedtowatch
everypenny.Momkeptthe
lakehouseaftersheandKirk
retiredbuttheyonlyuseit
duringthesummer.They
suggestedthatIsaverent
moneybylivinghereuntilI
figureoutmynewcareer
path.”
“Wheredotheylivenow?”
Juliusasked.
“TheymovedtoScottsdale
acoupleofyearsago.Mom
soldhergiftshopherein
CloudLakeandKirkturned
overhisinsurancebusinessto
hissons.Atthemoment
MomandKirkareonaworld
cruise.”
“Irenesaidyouhavea
sister?”
“Alison,yes.She’sa
lawyerinPortland.”
“Soyouintendtostayhere
inCloudLakeonlyuntilyou
getyouracttogether?”
“That’stheplan,”Grace
said.
“What’syourstrategy?”
Sheblinked.“IthoughtI
justexplainedmyplan.”
Juliusshotheranamused
glance.“I’mtalkingabout
yourstrategyforfindinga
newcareerpath.”
“Oh,that.”Sheflushed.
“I’mstillworkingonit.”
Shedidn’towehimany
explanations,shereminded
herself.
“Youmusthavesome
thoughtsonthesubject,”he
said.
“Actually,no,Idon’t,”she
said,goingforafrosty,backofftone.“Mylifehasbeen
somewhatcomplicated
lately.”
“Iknow.Musthavebeen
toughfindingthebodyof
yourbossthewayyoudid.”
Shehesitated,notsureshe
wantedtogodownthat
particularconversational
path.
“Itrynottothinkaboutit,”
shesaidcoolly.
“TheWitherspoonWay
willcollapsewithout
Witherspoonatthehelm.”
Shecrossedherarmsand
gazedfixedlyatthepavement
throughthewindshield.
“Trustme,allofuswho
workedforSprague
Witherspoonareawareof
that,”shesaid.
“Youneedajob.Sounds
likeyourproblemispretty
straightforward.”
“Isthatright?Andjust
when,exactly,wasthelast
timeyoufoundyourselfout
ofwork?”
Tohersurprisehe
ponderedthatbriefly.
“It’sbeenawhile,”he
admitted.
Shegavehimasteely
smile.“Inotherwords,you
reallyhavenoidea
whatsoeveraboutthecurrent
jobmarket,letalonehow
complicatedmyparticular
situationmightbe.”
“Howdidyoufindthejob
withWitherspoon?”
Thequestioncaughtheroff
guard.“Isortofstumbled
intoit.That’susuallyhowI
findanewjob.”
“Youstumbledinto
workingforamotivational
speaker?”
“Well,yes.Ayearanda
halfagoIwaslookingfora
newdirection.Idecidedto
attendaWitherspoonWay
seminarhopingtogetsome
ideas.AfterSprague
Witherspoontalkedtothe
audienceIwaitedaroundto
speaktohim.”
“Aboutwhat?”Julius
soundedgenuinelycurious.
“WhileSpraguewasgiving
hisseminaronpositive
thinking,Icameupwith
someideasabouthowhe
couldtakehisconceptsin
differentdirections.”She
unfoldedherarmsandspread
herhands.“Tomysurprise,
helistenedtome.Thenext
thingIknew,hewasoffering
meajob.OnceIwason
boardheletmehavefree
rein.Workingforthe
WitherspoonWaywasthe
bestjobI’veeverhad.”
“Justhowmanyjobshave
youhad?”
“Alot.”Shesighed.“It’s
embarrassing,totellyouthe
truth.Anditmakesfora
sketchyrésumé.Somejobhoppingisokaybutbeyonda
certainpointitmakesyou
look—”
“Flighty.Unreliable.
Undependable.”
Shewinced.“Allofthe
above.Mysisterknewthat
shewantedtobealawyerby
thetimeshewasaseniorin
highschool.ButhereIam,
stillsearchingforacareer
paththatwilllastlongerthan
eighteenmonths.”
“You’vegotaproblem,”
Juliussaid.“Youneeda
businessplan.”
Shestaredathim.“A
businessplanforlandinga
job?”
“AsfarasIcantell,
everythinginlifeworks
betterifyouhaveagood,
well-thought-outplan.”
Itwasallshecoulddonot
tolaugh.Hesoundedso
serious.
“Areyoutalkingabouta
five-yearplan?”sheasked
lightly.“BecauseIdon’t
thinkMomwillgivemefree
rentforfiveyears.”
“Notafive-yearplan—not
forfindingacareer.More
likeathree-months-at-theoutsidestrategy.Ifyou’re
seriousaboutthisyouneedto
setgoalsandmeetthem.”
“I’veneverbeenmuchofa
long-termplanner,”shesaid.
“Nokidding.Iwouldnot
haveguessedthat.”
Shegavehimacoldsmile.
“SpragueWitherspoonsaid
thatoneofmyassetswasthat
Ithinkoutsidethebox.”
“There’sthinkingoutside
theboxandthenthere’s
failingtobeabletofindthe
boxinthefirstplace.You
can’tappreciatethenew
modeluntilyouunderstand
theoldoneandwhyitisn’t
workinganymore.”
Irritationsparkledthrough
her.“Gosh,maybeyou
shouldgointotheself-help
business.Thatsoundsalot
likeoneoftheWitherspoon
Wayaffirmations.”
“What’sanaffirmation?”
“It’sashortcuttopositive
thinking.Agoodaffirmation
helpsfocusthemindina
productive,optimisticway.”
“Givemeanexample,”
Juliussaid.
“Well,sayyouhadabad
dayatwork—”
“Let’sgowithsomething
moreconcrete.Sayyoufound
yourselfatadinnerpartywith
friendswhosetyouupwitha
boringblinddate.Whatkind
ofaffirmationwouldyouuse
tohelpyouthinkpositive
aboutthesituation?”
Shewentverystill.
“Probablybetternottoget
tooconcrete.”
“I’mabusinessman.Ideal
inconcretefacts.”
“Fine,”sheshotback.
“Youwantanaffirmationfor
thisdate?Howabout,Things
arealwaysdarkestbeforethe
dawn?Willthatworkfor
you?”
“Idon’tthinkthat’sa
WitherspoonWay
affirmation.Prettysureit’s
beenaroundforawhile.”
“Gotabetterone?”
“Idon’tdoaffirmations.
I’vegotacoupleofrulesthat
Ineverbreakbutneitherof
themfitsourcurrent
situation.”
“Here’smyplace,”she
saidquickly.
Buthewasalreadyslowing
fortheturnintothetree-lined
drivewaythatledtothe
small,neathouseattheedge
ofthelake.Hebroughtthe
SUVtoahaltinfrontofthe
wraparoundporchandshut
downtheengine.
Thelightswerestillonin
AgnesGilroy’shousenext
door.Thedrapeswerepulled
butGracewascertainthat
Agneswaspeeringthrough
thecurtains.Agnespossessed
adeepandabidinginterestin
thedoingsofherneighbors.
Shewasboundtohaveheard
theunfamiliarrumbleofthe
carinthedriveway.
“Thanksfortheride
home,”Gracesaid.She
unbuckledhersafetybeltand
reachedforthedoorhandle.
“Nicemeetingyou.I’msure
we’llrunintoeachotherin
town.Don’tbothergetting
outofthecar.Icanmanage
justfineonmyown.”
Shecouldtellthathewas
notpayingattentiontoher
less-than-sparklingchatter.
Hesat,unmoving,hisstrong,
competenthandsrestingon
thewheel,andcontemplated
thehouseasifhehadnever
seenone.
“Ihadacareerplanbythe
timeIwaselevenyearsold,”
hesaid.
“Yep,I’mnotsurprised.”
Shegotthecardooropen,
grabbedtheedgesofthe
trenchcoatandpreparedto
jumpdowntotheground.“I
hadyoupeggedasoneof
those.”
“Oneofthosewhat?”
“Oneofthosefolkswho
alwaysknowswherehe’s
going.”Shegrippedthe
handholdandplungedoffthe
seat.Foraninstantshe
hoveredprecariouslyin
midair.Reliefshotthrough
herwhenshelandedonboth
feet.Sheturnedandlooked
backathim.“Mustbenice.”
Hepoppedopenhisown
door,uncoiledfrombehind
thewheelandcircledthe
frontofthevehicle.Hegotto
herbeforeshereachedthe
porchsteps.
“Ithelpstoknowwhatyou
want,”hesaid.“Itclarifies
choicesandstreamlinesthe
decisionmatrix.”
Thecool,calculatingway
hewatchedhersentalittle
chilldownherspine.Orwas
itathrill?Thepossibility
madehercatchherbreath.
Wrongtimeandprobablythe
wrongman.Sendhimonhis
way.
“Whatwasyourcareer
planateleven?”shesaid,
instead.
“Iwantedtogetrich.”
Shepausedtosearchhis
faceintheporchlight.
“Why?”
“BecauseIfiguredoutthat
moneygivesamanpower.”
“Overothers?”
Heconsideredthatand
thenshrugged.“Maybe.
Dependingonthesituation.
Butthatwasn’twhyIwanted
togetrich.”
Shewatchedhimclosely.
“Youwantedcontrolover
yourownlife.”
“Yeah,thataboutsumsit
up.”
“That’saperfectly
reasonableobjective.Itseems
tohaveworkedoutwellfor
you.Congratulations.Good
night,Julius.”
Shehitchedthestrapofher
purseoverhershoulderand
walkedquicklytowardthe
frontporchsteps.The
relentlesscrunchofgravel
behindhermadeherstopin
mid-stride.Whensheturned
toconfronthim,hestopped,
too.
“It’sokay,”shesaid
briskly.“Youdon’tneedto
seemetomydoor.”
“IsaidI’dtakeyouhome.
You’renothomeuntilyou’re
insidethehouse.”
Forsomereason,anger
crackledthroughher.“I’m
notyourresponsibility.”
“Youareuntilyou’re
home.”Hewaited.
Shegrippedherkeysvery
tightly.“Ican’tbelieveIjust
snappedatyoubecause
you’retryingtodothe
gentlemanlything.I
apologize.Jeez.Whereare
mymanners?Sorry.I’ma
littletensethesedays.Thank
you.”
“You’rewelcome.”He
stoodthereinthemoonlight
asifhewaswillingtowait
untildawnforhertomake
thenextmove.
“Right,”shesaid.“The
door.”
Sheturnedagainand
hurriedupthesteps.Julius
followedheracrossthefront
porch,keepingalittle
distancebetweenthem,
carefulnottocrowdher.
Shedugthekeysoutofher
purse,gotthedooropen,
steppedacrossthethreshold
andflippedthewallswitch.
Twolampscameup,
revealingthewarm,casually
comfortablespace.Her
motherhadbeeninwhat
GraceandAlisonreferredto
asherRusticRetreatphase
whenshelastredecorated.
Thewoodenfloorswere
burnishedwithage.Two
overstuffedchairsandadeep
sofaupholsteredindark
brownleatherwere
positionedonahoneycoloredarearug.Alarge
brassbasketonthestone
hearthheldkindlingforthe
cold,darkfireplace.
Severallandscapes
featuringquaintcottages,
woodendocksandold
boathousesaroundtheshores
ofCloudLakehungonthe
walls.Visitorsrarelynoticed
thattherewasnopaintingof
themostpicturesquestructure
onthelake,thelongabandonedCloudLakeInn.
Graceturnedarounda
secondtimetoconfront
Julius.Intheglareofthe
frontporchlighthisgoldbrowneyeswereheavily
shadowed.Shecouldseethat
hewasdrinkinginevery
detailofthelivingroom
behindher.Shesearchedfor
awordtodescribewhatshe
thoughtshedetectedinhis
expressionandcameupwith
hungry.
Don’tgothere,shetold
herself.Ifyoufeedhimhe
mighthangaround.Thiswas
notagoodtimeforhertobe
takinginstrays.Shewasnot
heretofixJuliusArkwright.
Ifshedid,hewouldprobably
walkawaylikealltheothers.
Andthismanjustmightbe
theoneshewouldregret
settingfree.
Sheopenedhermouthto
thankhimpolitelyandbid
himgoodnight.
“Wouldyouliketocome
inforsomeherbaltea?”she
heardherselfsayinstead.
Five
T
hanks,”hesaid.He
movedacrossthe
thresholdandclosed
thedoor.“Idon’tthinkI’ve
everhadherbaltea.
Sounds...interesting.”
Forafewsecondsshe
couldonlystandthere,
shockedatwhatshehadjust
done.Whensherealizedthat
hewaswatchingher,waiting
forhertomakethenext
move,shepulledherself
together.Shehadn’toffered
tofeedhim,shethought.It
wasjusttea.
“Tea,”shesaid.Sheturned
onherheel.“Kitchen.”
Shedroppedherclutchon
oneoftheoverstuffedchairs
andwentintothebig,oldfashionedkitchen.Through
theairycurtainsshecouldsee
themoonstrucksurfaceofthe
water.Hereandtherethe
lightsofsomeofthelakefront
housesglitteredinthetrees.
Alongnecklaceoflowlamps
markedthefootpaththat
circledthelake.
Shediscoveredshehadto
concentratejusttoremember
howtoboilthewaterinthe
kettle.
Sheswitchedonthegas
burnerandremindedherself
againthatitwasjusttea.The
factthatforsomereasonshe
wasfeelingalittlerushof
edgyexhilarationwas
probablygoingtobea
problemlater.Butatthat
momentshedidnotcare.
Juliusloungedagainstthe
tiledcountertopandfolded
hisarms.Hesomehow
managedtomakeitlookasif
hewasentirelyathomeinher
kitchen—asifhewasinthe
habitofspendingalotoftime
there.Hewatchedherpluck
twoteabagsoutofaglass
canister.
“What’sinthatteayou’re
fixing?”heasked.
“Chamomile,”shesaid.
“It’ssupposedtopromote
restfulsleep.”
“Iusuallyuseamedicinal
doseofwhiskey.”
Shesmiled.“I’vebeen
knowntoresorttothat
particularmedicationon
occasion,myself.”
“Hadsomebadnights
recently?”
Verydeliberatelyshe
positionedtheteabagsintwo
mugs.
“Afew,”sheconceded.
“Youwereright.Findingmy
employer’sbodywasa
shock.”
“Ifollowedsomeofthe
reportsinthemedia,”hesaid.
“Thestorycaughtmy
attentionbecausethe
WitherspoonWaywasa
risingstarinthePacific
Northwestbusinessworld.”
Sheshookherhead.“And
nowit’sallgone.Everything
thatSpraguebuiltwillsoon
disappear.”
“That’stheproblemwith
anybusinessthatisfounded
onapersonalityratherthana
product.Celebrities,athletes,
actors—samestory.They
mightrakeinmillionswhile
they’reworkingbutif
somethinghappenstothem,
thewholecompany
implodes.”
Theteakettlewhistled.
Graceswitchedofftheburner
andpouredthehotwaterinto
themugs.
“Whenitcomestothe
motivationalseminar
business,it’sdefinitelyall
aboutthecharismaofthe
personatthetop,”shesaid.
“Soyou’reunemployed.”
“Again.”Sheputoneof
themugsdownonthecounter
nexttoJulius.“I’man
underachiever.Nootherword
forit.It’stimeIgotmyact
together.IjustwishIknew
whatIreallywantedtodoin
life.EverytimeIgeta
glimmerofacareerpath,
somethinghappenstomake
meswerveinanother
direction.”
“Liketheclosingdownof
theWitherspoonWay?”
“Well,yes.”
“Iplannedoutafuture
once.”
“Yousaidyouknewwhere
youweregoingfromtheage
ofeleven.”Sheblewonher
tea.“Youwantedtoberich.
Whatsetyouonthatcareer
path?”
“Myparentssplitup.Dad
remarriedandmovedacross
thecountry.Neversawmuch
ofhimafterthat,exceptonce,
yearslater,whenhecame
aroundaskingforaloan.My
motherworkedhardtokeepa
roofoverourheads.She
sacrificedeverythingforme
duringthoseyears.”
Gracenodded.“That’s
whenyourealizedthatmoney
couldmakeahugedifference.
Itcouldbuyyouthekindof
poweryouneededtochange
yourmother’slife.”
Juliussmiledfaintly.“Are
youtryingtoanalyzeme?
Becauseifso,I’dliketo
changethesubject.”
“Irenesaidthatyouarea
verysuccessfulventure
capitalist.Shetoldmethatin
PacificNorthwestbusiness
circlestheycallyou
ArkwrighttheAlchemist
becausewhenitcomesto
investments,youcanturn
leadintogold.”
“I’mgood,”Juliussaid.
“ButI’mnotthatgood.”
“Goodenoughtogetvery
rich,though,right?”
“Richenough.”
“Iassumeyourmotheris
doingokay?”
“Mom’sfine.Aftermoney
wasnolongeranissueshe
didwhatshealwayswanted
todo—shewentbackto
schooltofinishgettingher
B.A.Woundupmarryingone
ofherprofessors.Theylivein
NorthernCalifornia.Doug
teachesatacommunity
college.Momworksinthe
counselingoffice.They’re
goingtoretiresoon.Imanage
theirinvestments.”
Shesmiled.“Iassumethey
willbothenjoycomfortable
retirements?”
Heshruggedthatoffasifit
werenobigdeal.“Sure.”
Sheraisedhereyebrows.
“Areyousatisfiedwithyour
currentfinancialstatus?”
“I’vegotallthemoneyI’ll
everneedandthensome.
Howmanyshirtscanone
manwear?Howmanycars
canhedrive?Howmany
housesdoeshereallywantto
maintain?Yes,Grace,I’m
richenough.”
Shestudiedhimfora
moment.
“Doyouknow,Idon’t
thinkI’veeverheardanyone
saythathehadenough
money,”shesaid.“Granted,
I’venevermetmanytruly
wealthypeople.ButIwas
undertheimpressionthat
afteracertainpointpeople
usemoneyasawaytokeep
score.”
“Thatworks.”Julius
cautiouslyswallowedsomeof
thechamomileteaand
loweredthemug.“Fora
while.”
Sheraisedherbrows.
“Wouldyourathergobackto
beingnon-rich?”
Hesmiledslowly.“No.”
“Butitwouldbenobig
dealifyoulostitall
tomorrow.Infact,I’llbetyou
wouldfindthesituation
interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Asin,notboring.Starting
overwouldbeachallengefor
you.”
“Maybe,”hesaid.“Forme.
ButI’mnolongertheonly
oneinvolved.IfIlost
everythingtomorrow,several
small,promisingstart-ups
wouldcrashandburn.Alot
ofpeoplewhoworkforthose
littlecompanieswouldbe
unemployedandsowouldthe
folkswhoworkdirectlyor
indirectlyforme.Andthat’s
notcountingthepeoplewho
trustmetoinvesttheir
money,likemymother.”
Sheleanedbackagainstthe
counterbesidehimandtook
anothersipofthetea.
“You’reright,ofcourse.
You’reridingthetiger.You
don’thavetheoptionof
choosingtogetoff.Ifyoudo,
you’llbeokaybutalotof
otherpeoplewillgeteaten.”
“Youdidn’texpectmeto
considerthataspectofthe
situation?”
“Now,onthatfront,you’re
wrong.Iwouldabsolutely
expectyoutoconsideryour
responsibilitiesasan
employer.Irenehasbeenmy
bestfriendsince
kindergarten.Iknowherwell
enoughtoknowthatshe
wouldn’thavetriedtosetme
upwithyouifshedidn’t
thinkyouwereagoodman.”
Julius’smouthtwitchedat
thecorner.“Icouldgiveyou
alistofpeoplewhowould
disagreewiththatopinion.”
“Oh,Idon’tdoubtbutthat
you’vemadeafewenemies
alongtheway.”
“Makingenemiesdoesn’t
makemeabadperson?”
“Dependsontheenemies,”
shesaid.
Amuffledpingsounded
fromthefrontroom.She
froze.Juliuslookedatherand
thenglancedtowardthe
doorway.
Shetookasteadying
breath.Andthenshetook
another.Thejitterysensation
receded.
“Myphone,”shesaid
quickly.“Justemail.I’lldeal
withitlater.”
Henoddedonceand
swallowedmoreofthetea.
“NowI’vegotaquestion
foryou,”hesaid.
“Aboutmynonexistent
careerplans?”
“It’salittlemorespecific.
DidyoukillSprague
Witherspoon?”
Shestaredathim,utterly
blindsided.Herbrainwent
blank.Wordsfailedher.First
theemailpingandnowthis.
Sheheardthecrashwhen
themugshehadbeenholding
hitthefloorbutshecouldnot
makesenseofthesoundfora
fewheartbeats.
Juliuswatchedhertheway
anentomologistmightwatch
abutterflyinaglassjar.
“Getout,”shewhispered,
hervoicehoarsewithanger.
“Now.”
“Allright,”hesaid.
Hesethisunfinishedtea
downascalmlyasthoughhe
hadjustremarkeduponthe
weather.Hewalkedacross
thekitchenandwentintothe
livingroom.Shepushed
herselfawayfromthecounter
andpursuedhim,literally
chasinghimoutofthehouse.
Atthedoorhepausedto
lookbackatheroverhis
shoulder.
“Goodnight,”hesaid.“It’s
beenaninterestingevening.I
don’tgetalotofthose.”
“Noshit,”shesaid.“I
thinkIcantellyouwhy.”
“Ialreadyknowthe
answer.”Heopenedthedoor
andmovedoutontothe
porch.“I’mprettyboring
whenyougettoknowme.
Hell,sometimesIevenbore
myself.Don’tforgettolock
yourdoor.”
Hewentdowntheporch
steps.
Infuriated,shecrossedthe
porchandgrippedtherailing
withbothhands.“Ididn’tkill
Witherspoon.”
“Ibelieveyou.”Heopened
theSUVdoor.“Gotanyidea
whodid?”
“No.Forheaven’ssake,if
Idid,Iwouldhavetoldthe
police.”
“AccordingtoDev’s
information,theSeattle
policehaveanoversupplyof
suspects,includinganangry
adultdaughter,thedaughter’s
fiancéandafewpissed-off
seminarfolkswhodon’tthink
theygottheirmoney’sworth
fromtheWitherspoonWay.
ThenthereareWitherspoon’s
employees.”
“Whywouldanyofus
murderouremployer?We
wereallmakingalotof
moneyworkingforthe
WitherspoonWay.”
“Devsaysthatthereis
reasontobelievethat
someoneinvolvedinthe
WitherspoonWaywas
siphoningoffaheftyamount
oftheprofitsandusingphony
investmentstatementsto
coverupthemissingmoney.”
“What?Areyouserious?”
“AskDev.Hesayshegot
thenewsfromtheSeattle
copsthismorning.There’sa
lotofmoneymissing.Inmy
world,thatcountsasa
motive.”
Shestaredathim,
outraged.“Areyouimplying
thatIembezzledmoneyfrom
theWitherspoonWay?”
“No.Ihadafewquestions
earlierintheeveningbutI
doubtverymuchthatyou’re
anembezzler.”
“Whynot?BecauseI’m
notafinancialwizardlike
you?”
Hesmiled.“Thismay
comeasashockbutitdoesn’t
takealotoffinancial
wizardrytofigureouthowto
skimagreatdealofmoney
offthetopofasuccessful
businessliketheWitherspoon
Way.Infact,it’sdeadeasy—
especiallyifnooneispaying
closeattention.”
“Thatisinsultingon
severallevels.”
“Ididn’tmeanitthatway,”
hesaid.“Juststatingfacts.”
“Here’safactyoucantake
tothebank—thisblinddateis
officiallyover.”Outofthe
cornerofhereyeGracesaw
thecurtainstwitchinAgnes
Gilroy’slivingroomwindow.
“Crap.”
Sheturnedonherheel,
stalkedbackinsidethehouse
andslammedthedoor.She
whirledaroundandshotthe
newdeadbolt.Thenshe
securedthechainlock.
Foramomentortwoshe
stoodlisteningtothesoundof
theSUVrumblingbackdown
thedrivetowardLakeCircle
Road.
WhensheknewthatJulius
wasgonesheexhaledslowly.
Thenshewentintothe
kitchenandgrabbedawadof
papertowelsofftherollthat
satonthecounternexttothe
stove.
Shewipedupthespilled
chamomileteaand
contemplatedthepossibility
thatsomeonehadbeen
drainingofftheprofitsofthe
WitherspoonWay.Evenif
thatturnedouttobetrue—
andgiventhatDevlinwasa
coptherewasnoreasonto
thinkhisinformationwasn’t
accurate—howdidthatrelate
toSprague’smurder?
UnlessSpraguehad
uncoveredtheembezzlement
andconfrontedthe
embezzler.
Shefinishedmoppingup
theteaandcollectedthe
piecesofthebrokenmug.
Shegottoherfeetand
dumpedthewetpapertowels
andthebitsofpotteryintothe
trash.
Earlierthatdayshehad
doneherbreathing
meditation.Itwastimefor
oneoftheotherthreerituals
thathelpedherdealwiththe
nightmaresovertheyears.
Shewalkedmethodically
throughthehouse,checking
theshinynewlocksshehad
installedonthedoorsand
windows.Nextshelooked
insidetheclosetsandevery
cupboardthatwaslarge
enoughtoconcealaperson.
Shewasannoyedwith
herself,asusual,whenshe
gotdownonherkneesand
lookedunderthebedsinthe
threesmallbedrooms.She
hadnoideawhatshewould
doifsheactuallydidfind
someonehidinginaclosetor
underneathabedbutshe
knewshecouldn’tsleepuntil
shehadverifiedthatshewas
theonlyoneinthehouse.
Whenshehadcompleted
thewalk-through,shepoured
herselfaglassofwine,sat
downinoneofthebigchairs
andtookherphoneoutofher
purse.Sheopenedheremail
withthesamedegreeof
reluctanceshewouldhave
feltreachingintoaterrarium
topickupasnake.
Theemailwaswaitingfor
her.Anothernight,another
notefromadeadman.The
firstlinewasfamiliar.
Apositiveattitudeis
likeaflashlightina
darkroom.
Butwhoeverhadsentthe
emailhadalteredthesecond
line.
Youcanuseittosee
who’swaitingforyou
intheshadows.
Six
C
ongratulations,
Arkwright.You
reallyknowhowto
screwupadate.
JuliusbroughttheSUVto
ahaltinthedrivewayinfront
ofhishouse.Heshutdown
theengineandsatfora
moment,contemplatingthe
darkenedcottageandthe
mysteryofGraceElland.
Thecottagewasmodest
butitwasinfusedwiththe
comfortablepatinathatonly
severalgenerationsof
occupationcouldimpart.It
heldafewverynice
surprises,suchasthebrilliant
viewofthelakeandthe
extraordinarilylushgardens.
Amancouldbecontentwith
ahouselikethisfortherest
ofhislife.
GraceEllandheldafew
surprises,too.Itwasdifficult
tobelievethatanyintelligent
individualcouldtake
seriouslyallthatnonsense
aboutpositivethinkingand
thepowerofaffirmations.It
wasonethingtodoagood
job.Hedidn’tblameherfor
workingforaself-helpguru.
Ajobwasajob.Youdid
whatyouhadtodo.He
admiredcompetenceandhard
workregardlessofthenature
ofthatwork.Buttonighthe’d
gottentheimpressionthat
Gracehadreallyboughtinto
theWitherspoonWay
fantasy.Sheactuallydid
seemtobelievethatpositive
energywasaforceforgood
intheworld.
Eithershewasforrealor
shewasoneofthemost
cleverconartistshehadever
met—andinhisline,he’d
encounteredsomeverygood
ones.
Mentallyhecatalogedhis
impressionsofher.Shewas
onthesmallside.Eveninthe
ridiculouslyhigh,incredibly
sexyhigh-heeledshoesshe’d
worntonightshebarely
toppedoutatapointjusta
littleabovehisshoulder.But
shemovedlikeadancer.
Therewassomethinglight
andgracefulabouther—and
asubtlestrength,aswell.
He’dfeltthefemininepower
inherwhenheliftedherup
intothepassengerseatofthe
SUV.Thememoryofholding
herforthatbriefmoment
stirredhissenses.
Herhairwasthecolorof
agedwhiskey.Tonightshe’d
twisteditintoaknothighon
herhead,probablyinan
efforttogivetheillusionof
height.Thestyleenhanced
hereyes,whichwerean
interestingshadeofamber
andgreen.Whenshelooked
athimhegottheunsettling
sensationthatshecouldseea
lotmorethanhewantedher
oranyoneelsetosee,things
thathekepthiddenfromthe
world.
Theoreticallyshewasthe
kindofwomanyoudidn’t
looktwiceatonthestreet.
Buttonighthehaddefinitely
lookedtwice—morethan
twice—andhewantedtolook
ather—benearher—again.
Therewerequestionshanging
intheairbetweenthem.He
wouldnotbesatisfieduntilhe
gotanswers.
Somealchemist.Hehad
turnedagoldenblinddate
intolead.Nowhewasstuck
withtheproblemoffiguring
outhowtoreversethe
process.
Heopenedthedoorand
climbedoutofthevehicle.
HarleyMontoyaemerged
fromtheneighboringhouse
andcameoutontotheporch.
“How’dthebigdatego?”
Harleybellowed.
Therewasnoneedtoraise
hisvoice.Thetwohousessat
sidebyside,separatedonly
bythenarrowdrivethat
Harleyusedtohaulhis
belovedboatoutofthewater
formaintenance.Sound
carriedwellinthestillnessof
thewinternight.ButHarley
wasgoingdeafinoneearand
hetendedtoassumethat
everyoneelsewashardof
hearingaswell.
Asfarasanyoneknewhis
firstnamewasaMontoya
familynamethathadbeen
bestowedonhimbyhis
parents.Butbackintheday
whenhehadmadehisfortune
intheconstructionand
developmentbusinessthe
rumorscirculatedthatthe
namewasderivedfroma
certainbrandofmotorcycle.
Therewasnogettingaround
thefactthathewas
constructedalongthelinesof
aHarley-Davidson.Hewasin
hiseightiesnowandhad
softenedsomewhatoverthe
yearsbuthestillpossessed
thesolid,muscularbuildthat
broughttomindimagesofthe
famousbike.
“Itwasablinddate,”Julius
said.Heclosedthedoorof
theSUV.“Itdidn’tgowell.
Theyrarelydo.Andis
everyoneinCloudLake
awarethatGraceandIwere
setuptonight?”
“Prettymuch,”Harley
said.“You’rehomeearly.
Figuredyou’dscrewedup.
Whatwentwrong?”
“Imadethemistakeof
askingherifshemurdered
Witherspoon.Shegot
pissed.”
“Nokidding.”Harley
snorted.“Whyinthenameof
helldidyouhavetogoand
askherathinglikethat?”
“Iwascurioustoseewhat
herreactionwouldbe.”
“Iguessyougotthat
questionanswered.Itoldyou
GraceEllandwasnokiller.
You’reanidiotwhenit
comestowomen.”
“I’mawareofthat.”
“Well,don’tworrytoo
muchaboutscrewingup,”
Harleysaid.“Lookslikeyou
andGracewillbothbein
townforawhile.Playyour
cardsrightandyou’llget
anotherchance.”
“Inotherwords,Ishould
trytothinkpositive,isthat
it?”
“Hell,no.”Harleysnorted.
“I’mtalkingaboutsmart
strategy,notthatpositivethinkingbullshit.Strategy
andplanningareyour
strengths,son.Useyour
natural-borntalents.”
“Thanksfortheadvice.I’ll
keepitinmind.”
“Youdothat.”
Juliuswalkedacrossthe
lawnandwentthroughthe
smallgate.Hemovedoutinto
thenarrowruttedlanethat
separatedthetwohouses.
“Youweren’tlivingherein
CloudLakeatthetimeofthe
Tragermurder,wereyou?”he
asked.
“No,”Harleysaid.“Still
toobusymakingmoneyin
thosedays.MostofwhatI
knowaboutitandabout
GraceEllandcomesfrom
Agnes.”
“Abadscenelikethat
wouldsureashellleaveafew
scars,especiallyonagirlwho
wasonlyinherteensatthe
time.”
“Whatareyougettin’at?”
Harleyasked.
“Justwonderingwhy
Gracenevermarried,that’s
all.”
“Theysayalotofyoung
womenarewaitinglongerto
getmarriedthesedays,ifthey
marryatall.”
“Wow.You’reanexpert
onmodernsocialtrends?”
“Nope,butAgneskeeps
meuptodate,”Harleysaid.
“ShesaysGracehasjustbeen
waitin’fortherightmanto
comealong.Wewereboth
sortofhopin’youmightbe
him.”
“Whatthehellmade
anyonethinkImightbethe
rightman?”Juliusasked,
genuinelysurprised.
“Noidea,cometothinkof
it.”
“WereyouandAgnes
Gilroycoconspiratorswith
IreneandDevwhenitcame
toplanningtheblinddate?”
“Coursenot.”Harley
soundedaffronted.“DoIlook
likeamatchmakertoyou?It
wasIreneNakamura’sidea.
SheandGracehavebeen
friendssincetheywerelittle
kids.Ihearyouroldbuddy
Devwentalongwiththe
notion.Goblamehimifyou
wanttoblamesomeone.”
“Thanks.I’lldothat.”
Juliusstartedwalkingdown
thelanetowardthedockand
theboathouse.“Goodnight,
Harley.”
“Don’tgiveup,son.Ithink
Graceisthekindofwoman
whowouldgiveamana
secondchance.”
Juliuspausedandlooked
backatHarley.“Areyousure
youhaven’tfallenintothe
clutchesofsomemotivational
guru?”
“Areyoulaughing?”
Harleydemanded.
“Trustme,I’mnot
laughing.”
Juliuswalkedtotheendof
thelaneandsteppedoutonto
thefloatingdock.Water
lappedgentlyattheplanks.
CloudLakedidn’treflect
cloudsatnight,just
moonlight—atleastitdidon
anightwhenthemoonwas
out,likeitwastonight.The
waterwasasheetofblack
glassstreakedwithsilver
underthecold,starrysky.
Theweatheredboathouse
loomedonhisleft.Hemoved
pastitandcametoahaltat
theendofthedock.Although
thetreescrowdedclosetothe
water’sedge,thelightsof
someofthehousesand
cottagescouldbeseenfrom
wherehestood.
TheEllandhousewasonly
aboutaquarterofamile
awayifyoudrewastraight
linefrompointtopointacross
thelake.Hecouldseethe
lightsofthekitchenandback
porch.Ashewatched,one
windowwentdarkbut
anothersuddenlyilluminated.
Thebedroom,probably.
Gracewasgoingtobed.It
was,hediscovered,an
unsettlingthought;thekind
ofthoughtthatcouldkeepa
manawakeatnight.
Hetookouthisphone.
Devlinansweredonthe
fourthorfifthring.He
soundedirritated.
“Thishadbetterbe
important,”hesaid.“We
keepearlyhoursherein
CloudLake.Thisisn’tthebig
city.”
“Yousaidyouwantedmy
impressionsofGraceElland.”
“Hangon.”
Therewassomerustling.
JuliusheardDevlinmutter
somethingaboutbusiness—
probablyspeakingtoIrene—
andthenadoorclosed.
“Okay,”Devlinsaid.He
kepthisvoicelow.“I’min
thekitchengettingaglassof
water.Talkfast.”
“Forwhatit’sworth,I
don’tthinkGracekilled
Witherspoon.”
“Goodtoknowthatyou
andIreneagreeonthat.Grace
doeshaveafairlygoodalibi.”
“Notiron-clad?”
“Inmyexperiencethere
arevery,veryfewiron-clad
alibis.Mycontactatthe
SeattlePDconfirmedthatthe
videofromGrace’sapartment
garagecamerashowsthatshe
arrivedhomeatseveno’clock
thateveninganddidnotleave
untilseven-thirtythe
followingmorning.TheME
saidWitherspoonwas
murderedshortlyafter
midnight.”
“Curiositycompelsmeto
ask,whatwouldyouaccept
asaniron-cladalibi?”
“Ifthesuspectcouldprove
thatheorshewasdeadwhen
thevictimwaskilledImight
goforit.ButeventhenI’d
lookatthealibirealhard.It’s
notthatdifficulttocomeup
withascenariothathas
someonesettingupamurdersuicideinwhichthesuicide
takesplacebeforethe
murder.”
Juliusthoughtaboutitfora
moment,intriguedbythe
problem.“Icanimaginea
coupleofotherwaysadead
mancouldcommitmurder.A
delayed-actionweaponlike
slowpoison,forexample.”
“I’vetoldyoubefore,you
thinklikeacop.”
“Payisbetterinmyline.”
“Can’targuewiththat,”
Devlinsaid.“Allright,let’s
sayforthesakeofargument
thatyouandIreneareright
whenyoutellmethatGrace
couldn’thavekilledSprague
Witherspoon—”
“Ineversaidshecouldn’t
havedoneit.IsaidIdon’t
thinkshedidit.”
Therewasashortpauseon
theotherendofthe
connection.
“Youreallythinkshe’s
capableofmurder?”Devlin
askedfinally.Hesounded
curious.
“You’rethecop.AsI
recallyouhavetoldmeon
morethanoneoccasionthat
everyoneiscapableof
committingmurderunderthe
rightcircumstances.”
“Thereisthat,”Devlin
conceded.
“Don’tunderestimate
GraceElland.Underneath
thatoptimistic,glass-half-full
exterior,there’satough
streak.”
“Nodoubtaboutit.I’mthe
onewhotoldyouthestoryof
whathappenedhereinCloud
Lakeallthoseyearsago,
remember?”
Juliuswatchedthelightsof
theEllandhouse.“I
remember.”
“Graceissomethingofa
locallegendinthistown.It’s
oneofthereasonsIaskedfor
yourtakeonher.You’rean
outsider.Iknewyouwouldn’t
beswayedbythestoryfrom
herpast.”
“Shesaysshe’shereto
thinkaboutherfutureand
makesomedecisions
regardingacareerpath.”
“Yeah,Ireneexplainedthat
Gracehasspentthepastfew
yearshoppingfromonejobto
another,”Devlinsaid.
“I’lltellyouonething,”
Juliussaid.“WhenGrace
finallydoesdecidewhatshe
wantsinlife,Iwouldnot
wanttobetheonestandingin
herway.”
UnlessI’mwhatshe
decidesshewants.
Thethoughtcameoutof
nowhere,startlinghimso
badlythathealmostdropped
thephone.
“Damn,”hesaid.
Hesaiditverysoftlybut
Devlinheardhim.
“Youokay?”Devlinasked.
“Yeah,fine.Justalittle
phoneissue.”
“So,howdidthedatego
tonight?”
“Itwentswelluptoa
point.Gotaskedinfortea.”
“Tea?”Devlin’stone
suggestedthathehadnever
heardofthesubstance.
“Somekindofherbal
stuff.”
“Iguessthatsounds
promising.Whatwent
wrong?”
“Whatmakesyouthink
somethingwentwrong?”
“Youobviouslygothome
early,”Devlinsaidpatiently.
“You’retalkingtomeon
yourphoneso,acedetective
thatIam,Ideducedthatyou
werenolongerwithGrace.”
“You’regood.You’realso
rightinyourdeductions.The
dateendedsomewhat
abruptlywhenIaskedGrace
ifshekilledWitherspoon.”
“Youaskedher?”Devlin
repeatedinaneutraltone.
“Yep.”
“Point-blank?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’reanidiot.”
“Harleysaidsomething
alongthesamelines.”
“Iassumeshedeniedit?”
Devlinsaid.
“Sure.That’swhenshe
kickedmeoutofthehouse.
Buthere’sthething,Dev,
there’ssomethingreally
wrongwiththispicture.She’s
scared.”
“Ofwhat?”
“DamnedifIknow.ButI
sawwhatI’msurearebrandnewlocksonthefrontand
backdoorsofthehouse.
Whilewewereinthekitchen
theemailalertpingedonher
phone.Shejumped.Make
thatflinched.”
“She’sawomanliving
alone,”Devlinsaid.“Good
locksmakesense.Asforthe
emailalert,I’vebeenknown
toflinchwhenIhearmine
ping,too.”
“There’ssomethingelse
goingon,Dev.Icanfeelit.”
“AsIrenekeepsreminding
me,findingadeadbodyis
boundtobeatraumatic
experienceforsomeonewho
isn’tinthebusinessof
findingthem.”
“You’reinthatline.”
Devlinexhaledheavily.
“YouknowaswellasIdo
thatforthoseofuswhodo
stumbleacrossdeadbodies
everysoofteninthecourse
ofourjobs,it’snever
routine.”
“Thatattitudeiswhat
makesyouagoodcop.”
“WhydoyouthinkItook
thisnice,cushyjobherein
CloudLake?Igottiredof
findingdeadbodiesinthebig
city.”
“Iknow,”Juliussaid.
Therewassilenceatboth
endsoftheconnectionfora
fewseconds.
“Allright,backtoGrace
Elland,”Devlinsaidfinally.
“Here’swhattheSeattle
peoplehave:Shewalkedinto
herboss’shouseandfound
himdeadinbed,shottwice
withahandgunthatwas
reportedstolen.”
“Someoneboughtitonthe
streettouseonWitherspoon.
Gracedoesn’tstrikemeasthe
kindofwomanwhowould
knowhowtobuyagunina
backalley.”
“Gotnewsforyou,it’snot
thathardtobuyastolengun,”
Devlinsaid.“Nothingwas
stolenfromthehouse.Itwas
notaburglarygonebad.AsI
wassaying,theSPDpeople
figurethemostlikely
scenarioisthatthekilleris
probablysomeoneconnected
toWitherspoon.Graceknows
that.Soifshe’sinnocent—”
“Sheis.”
“Thenshe’sprobably
copingwiththefactthatat
somepointherpathcrossed
withthatofthekiller,”
Devlinconcluded.“It’snot
surprisingthatshemight
decidetotakeafewextra
precautionswithherown
personalsafetynow.”
“Butflinchingjustbecause
shegotanemail?”
“Couldbeamillion
reasonswhyitstartledher,”
Devlinsaid.“Shemighthave
beenanticipatinganotefrom
aboyfriend—maybeanold
oneshedoesn’twanttohear
fromoranewoneshe’s
hopingwillcall.Andthere
youwerestandinginher
kitchenwhenshegotthe
ping.Maybeitwasyour
presencethatmadeher
tense.”
“She’stense,allright,the
questioniswhy.Okay,that’s
myreport.I’mgoingtodo
someworkonthecomputer
andthenI’mgoingtobed.
Thanksfordinner,andtell
Ireneshedoesn’tneedtoset
meupwithanymoreblind
dates.Oneismorethan
enough.”
Devlinclearedhisthroat.
“Thereisthelittlematterof
themoneythatsomehow
disappearedfromthe
Witherspoonaccounts.
Settingasidethequestionof
murder,doyouthinkit’s
possiblethatGraceisthe
embezzler?”
“Iconsidereditbutifshe
wassittingonabigpileof
money,whywouldshebe
holeduphereinCloudLake
tryingtofigureouthowtoget
anotherjob?”
“Alwaysassumingthat’s
whyshe’shere.”
Therewasanothershort
silence.
“So,”Devlincontinued,
“yougotasfarasthekitchen,
right?IcantellIrenethat
much?”
“I’mgoingtohangup
now,Dev.”
“Hardtoseeyoudrinking
herbaltea.Wasthereany
chantingorincense
involved?”
Juliuscuttheconnection.
Seven
H
estoodattheend
ofthedock,
watchingthe
moonlightonthewaterand
thinkingabouthowGrace
hadflinchedwhentheemail
alertsounded.Thenhe
thoughtsomemoreaboutthe
newlocksonthedoors.
HecheckedtheElland
house.Thelightswerestill
on.
Whatthehell.Nothingto
lose.He’dalreadyscrewedup
theevening.
Heopenedthephoneagain
andhitthenewestnameon
hisshortlistofpersonal
contacts.
Graceansweredonthefirst
ring.“Whoisthis?”
Thetensioninhervoice
madehimgoverycold.He
realizedsheprobablyhadn’t
recognizedhisnumber.
“It’sJulius.Sorry.Didn’t
meantoscareyou.Just
wantedtomakesure
everythingwasokay.”
Therewasabriefpause.
“I’mfine.Whatmadeyou
thinkImightnotbeokay?”
“Fournewlocksonyour
doors.”
Anotherpause.Longerthis
time.
“Veryobservantofyou,”
shesaid.
“Yousoundsurprised.”
“Idecidedtoupgradethe
locksbecauseI’llprobablybe
hereforawhileandI’m
livingalone.CloudLakeis
nolongerthesmall,sleepy
littletownitoncewas.”
“AccordingtowhatI
heard,itwasn’tthesafest
placeontheplanetbackwhen
youwereakid.”
Themomentofsilence
hummedwithtension.
“Someonetoldyouabout
whathappenedattheold
CloudLakeasylum,”Grace
saideventually.
Itwasn’taquestion.She
soundedresigned.
“HarleyMontoyaandDev
bothmentionedit,”Julius
said.“IwascurioussoI
pulledupafewofthe
newspaperstoriesfromthat
time.Butaccordingto
Harley,Devandthereports,
ithappenedattheoldCloud
LakeInnupatthenorthend
ofthelake,notanasylum.”
“Theinnwasoriginally
builtasaprivatehospitalfor
thementallyill.Thatwas
backinthelatenineteen
hundreds.Aftertheasylum
wasclosed,itwentthrough
severaldifferentownerswho
alltriedtoturnitintoahotel
orresort.Thelastowner
namedittheCloudLakeInn.
Theplacehasbeenboarded
upforyears.”
“ThestoryIheardisthat
youstumbledontoamurder
inthebasementoftheplace
whenyouweresixteen.You
confrontedthekiller.”
Therewasanotherlong
silenceontheotherendofthe
connection.
“Justhowmuchresearch
didyoudo?”sheasked,
clearlywary.
“Yourescuedalittlekid.
Damnneargotyourselfkilled
intheprocess.Butitwasthe
killerwhodied.”
“Itwasalongtimeago,”
Gracesaid.“Itrynottothink
aboutit.”
“Isthatwhatyoupositivethinkertypesdo?Tryto
forgetthebadstuff?”
“Yes,”shesaidvery
firmly.“Whereareyougoing
withthis?”
“Tendaysagoyoucame
acrossanothermurderscene.”
“So?”
“FindingWitherspoon’s
bodymusthavedredgedupa
lotofunpleasantmemories.
AndinWitherspoon’scase,
thekillerisstillatlarge,so
I’mguessingyou’rehavinga
hardtimetryingnottothink
aboutthepast.”
“What’sgoingonhere?”
Graceasked.“Areyouthe
oneplayinganalystnow?”
“Justlookingatfacts,”
Juliussaid.“Connecting
dots.”
“Youdon’tneedtoremind
meofanyofit,believeme.”
“You’rescared.”
Anothersilencestretched
acrossthedistancebetween
them.ForamomentJulius
wonderedifGracewould
denyherfear.
“I’m...uneasy,”Grace
saideventually.“Ididn’t
thinkIwouldbesonervous,
nothereinCloudLake.”
“Becauseyou’renotin
Seattle,wherethemurder
occurred?Igetthelogic.But
it’sdeeplyflawedand,
therefore,notworking.Want
totellmewhyyoujumpedas
ifyou’dtouchedalive
electricwirewhenyour
phonepingedyouabouta
newemail?”
“Ididnotjump.”
“Youflinchedandnotina
goodway.”
“There’sagoodwayto
flinch?”Graceaskedcoldly.
“Let’suseyourword.
Uneasy.Thepingmadeyou
uneasy.”Hedecidedtotry
outoneofthetheoriesthat
Devlinhadmentioned.“Old
boyfriendgivingyou
trouble?”
“Oh,no,nothinglikethat,”
Gracesaid.
Shesaiditsomatter-offactlyandwithsuch
assurancethathewas
inclinedtobelieveher.Butit
alsobroughtquestions.There
mustbeafewoldboyfriends
scatteredaboutinherpast.
“Someoneelsewhois
botheringyou?”hepressed.
Therewasanothershort
pause.
“I’vebeengettingweird
emailsatnight,”Gracesaid
finally.“Themessagesare
short,justsnidelittle
variationsoftheaffirmations
takenfromtheWitherspoon
cookbookandtheblog.I
wouldsayitwasjustsome
disgruntledclientbutthe
creepypartisthatthey’reall
comingfromSprague’s
personalaccount.”
Achillwentthroughhim,
heighteningallofhissenses
intheold,unpleasantway.
Hewasacutelyawareofthe
crispnightair,thefeatureless
surfaceofthelakeandthe
softrustleoftreebranches.
Youhadtoassumethatthe
enemycouldbeanywhere.
“You’reright,”hesaid.
“Thatisverycreepy.”
“There’ssomethingelse,”
Gracesaid.“ThedayIfound
Sprague’sbody,therewasan
affirmationpinnedtohis
pajamas.Someone,
presumablythekiller,had
printeditoutfroma
computer.”
Hegotthefeelingthatnow
thatshehadblurtedoutthe
truthshewantedtokeep
going.
“Youtoldthecopsabout
theaffirmationatthescene?”
heasked.
“Theysawitfor
themselves,”Gracesaid.“I
didn’ttouchit.”
“Didyoureporttheemails
thatyou’vebeenreceiving?”
“Ofcourse,”Gracesaid.“I
wastoldthatsomeonewould
lookintothematter.Every
timeIgetoneIforwarditto
thedetectiveinchargeofthe
investigationbutIthinkhe
believesImightbesending
themtomyself.”
“Motive?”
“Toenhancemy
appearanceofinnocence.”
Graceexhaleddeeply.“The
bottomlineisthatthecops
haven’tcomeupwith
anythingsofar.”
“Doyouhaveanyidea
whoissendingtheemails?”
“Maybe,”Gracesaid.She
wasspeakingmoreslowly
now,choosingherwords.
“Spraguedidnothaveagood
relationshipwithhisadult
daughter,NylaWitherspoon.
InherownweirdwayIthink
shewasjealousofthoseofus
whoworkedinthe
Witherspoonoffices—
especiallyme.”
“Whyyouinparticular?”
“It’s...complicated.”
Juliusfeltasifhehadjust
fallenoffthedockintothe
cold,darkwatersofthelake.
“Youwerehavinganaffair
withWitherspoon?”heasked
withoutinflection.
“Goodgrief,no.”Grace
soundedastonished,not
offended.“Whatintheworld
wouldmakeyouthinkthat?”
“Gosh,Idunno.Notlike
there’sanyhistoryofbosses
sleepingwiththewomenon
theirofficestaff.”
“Areyouspeakingfrom
personalexperience?”she
asked.Thistimetherewasan
edgeonthewords.
Theladyhadclaws.Julius
smiled,oddlysatisfied.Good
toknowshehadn’tbeen
sleepingwithWitherspoon.
Goodtoknowshecoulddraw
bloodifyoupushedhertoo
far.
“No,”hesaid.“Along
timeagoIwaswarnednotto
getpersonallyinvolvedwith
thepeoplewhoworkforme.
Thatwaymadnesslies.”
Gracestartledhimwitha
burbleoflaughter.“Oh,wow,
yougetyouraffirmations
fromShakespeare.Notsure
theWitherspoonWay
affirmationscancompete.”
“It’sastrictpolicy,notan
affirmation,andIdidn’tgetit
fromShakespeare.Igotit
frommynext-door
neighbor.”
“HarleyMontoya?What
doesheknowaboutthe
dangersofoffice
relationships?Ithoughthe
wasdevotedtohisfishing
andhisgarden.Heandmy
neighbor,Agnes,havebeen
rivalsintheannualCloud
LakeGardenClub
competitioneversincehe
movedtotown.”
“Harleywasn’talways
retired.”
“Ofcoursenot,”Grace
said.“SometimesIforgetthat
hewasasuccessful
businessmanbeforehemoved
here.”
“Thequoteaboutthe
dangersofgettinginvolved
withemployeesisn’tan
affirmation,justarealistic
assessmentofthepotential
risks.Idon’tdoaffirmations.
Ihaveacoupleofrules
instead.”
“Really?”Shesounded
intrigued.“Whatarethey?”
“RuleNumberTwois
Everyonehasahidden
agenda.”
“I’llbetthat’sahardrule
toliveby.”
“Actually,it’sprettydamn
useful.Youcan’tbe
successfulinmyworldunless
youknowwhatisreally
motivatingyourclients,your
competitionandthepeople
whoworkforyou.Whenit
comestoclosingthedeal,
youneedtoknoweveryone’s
realagenda.”
“Ithoughtmoneywasat
thetopofthelistforpeople
inyourworld.”
“Everyoneinvolvedwill
certainlytellyouthat,”he
said.“Peopleliketothink
theybasetheirhigh-stakes
businessdecisionsonrational
financiallogic.Butthat’snot
true.Theymakedecisions
basedonemotion,every
damntime.Afterwardthey
canalwaysfindthelogicand
reasontheyneedtobackup
thedecisions.”
“Andyoutakeadvantage
ofthatinsighttomakelotsof
money,isthatwhatyou’re
tellingme?”
“Idon’talwayswinbutI
usuallyknowwhentocutmy
losses.”Timetochangethe
subject.“Yousaidyouthink
NylaWitherspoonmighthave
beenjealousofyouandthe
othermembersof
Witherspoon’sstaff.Areyour
colleaguesreceivingthose
emails?”
“IaskedMillicentand
Kristythatquestion.Neither
ofthemhasreceivedthe
emailsbuttheyagreedthat
Nylaisthemostlikely
culprit.”
“Didyougetanything
fromWitherspoon’sestate?”
“Heavensno,”Gracesaid.
“Nooneonthestaffwasin
Sprague’swill.Hepaidusall
verywellbuthelefthisentire
estatetoNyla.”
“Andnowalargechunkof
ithasgonemissing.”
“It’snewstomebutifyou
andDevlinknowthat,then
it’ssafetosaythatNylais
alsoawareofthe
embezzlementbynow.ButI
startedgettingtheemails
immediatelyafterSprague
wasmurdered—before
anyonerealizedthatsomeone
hadbeenstealingfromthe
WitherspoonWayaccounts.”
“Ifshestartedemailing
youbecauseshewantedto
takeoutsomeofheranger
andjealousyonyou,thenthe
missingmoneywouldhave
servedtoenrageherallthe
more.”
“Acheerfulthought.You
reallyarenotaglass-half-full
kindofman,areyou?”
Hewatchedthemoonlight
rippleonthejewel-blacklake
foramoment.
“HaveyoutalkedtoDev
aboutthecase?”heasked.
“Some,”Gracesaid.“ButI
haven’tgoneintogreatdetail.
Thethingis,Idon’tknow
Devlinverywell.Between
youandme,Ithinkhehas
somedoubtsaboutmy
innocence.”
Juliusdecidedthatitwas
notagoodtimetoconfirm
hertheory.
“DoesDevknowyou’ve
gotastalker?”hesaid
instead.
“Ihaven’ttoldhimabout
theemails,ifthat’swhatyou
mean.”
“Yes,it’sexactlywhatI
mean.”
“Thisisn’thiscase,”Grace
said.Shesoundeddefensive.
“Didyoumentionthemto
Irene?”
“No.Idon’twanttomake
heranymoreconcernedthan
sheisalready.”
“Devisthechiefofpolice
inthistown.Heneedsto
knowwhat’sgoingon.Talk
tohimtomorrowmorning.”
Gracehesitated.“Okay.
Buttherereallyisn’tanything
Devlincandoaboutthis.”
“Dev’sagoodcop.He
mighthavesomeideas.
Meanwhiletrytogetsome
sleep.”
“Oh,sure,easyforyouto
say.”
Hecouldn’tthinkofa
responsetothat.Hehada
feelinghewouldn’tgetalot
ofsleep,either.
“Goodnight,”hesaid
again.
“Hangon,I’vegota
question.Yousaidthatyour
fathercamearoundaskingfor
moneyafteryougotrich.”
Shouldhavekeptmymouth
shut,hethought.
“That’sright,”hesaid.
“So?”
“Didyougivehimthe
loan?”
“HeandIbothknewit
wouldn’thavebeenaloan
becausehewouldneverhave
repaidit.”
“Didyougivehimthe
money?”Graceaskedquietly.
Juliuslookedoutoverthe
water.“Whatdoyouthink?”
“Ithinkyoudidadeal
basedonemotion.Yougave
himthemoneyandIhavea
hunchitwasneverrepaid.”
Julius’smouthtwitchedat
thecorner.“Rightonboth
counts.Itwastheworst
investmentIevermade.Still
don’tknowwhyIdidit.”
“Thewhyiseasy,”Grace
said.“Hewasyourdad.You
brokeRuleNumberTwofor
him.”
“Nosurprisethatitturned
outbadly.”
“Youdidwhatyouhadto
do.”
“Goodnight,”hesaid.
“Wait,what’sRule
NumberOne?”sheasked.
“Trustnoone.”
Heendedtheconnection
andclippedthephonetohis
belt.Hestoodattheendof
thedockforawhilelonger,
meditatingonthe
conversation.
Ithadn’treallybeenphone
sex,hedecided.Buttalking
toGracehadseemedalot
moreintimatethananyofthe
sexualencountershe’dhad
sincehisdivorce.
•••
H
ewasrightaboutone
thing—sleepwashard
tocomeby.Attwo-fifteenhe
gotup,pulledonhisjeans
andajacketandwentoutside
intothecoldnight.He
walkedtotheendofthedock
andlookedacrossthe
expanseofdarkwatertoward
theEllandhouse.
Thebackporchlightwas
stillonandaweakglow
illuminatedthecurtainsinall
thewindows.Heknewthe
night-lightswouldstillbeon
atdawnwhenhewentpast
thehouseonhismorningrun.
Theyhadbeenlitupallnight,
everynightsinceGracehad
arrivedinCloudLake.
Eight
T
hephonerangjust
asGracedroppeda
sliceofmulti-grain
breadintothetoaster.She
glancedatthescreen,sawher
sister’sname,andtookthe
call.
“Areyoucallingtotellme
thatyou’repregnantagain?”
sheasked.“Ifso,
congratulations.”
“I’mcalling,”Alisonsaid,
“becauseIjustsawthenews
abouttheembezzlementat
theWitherspoonWay
Corporation.Areyouall
right?”
Alisonwasusinghercrisp,
no-nonsenselawyervoice.
Thatwasneveragoodsign.
“Wordtravelsfast,”Grace
said.“And,yes,I’mfine.”
Phoneinhand,shewalked
tothewindow.Itwasher
favoritetimeofday.Thelate
wintersunwasnotyetup,but
therewasenoughearlylight
intheskytotransformthe
surfaceofthelakeintoasteel
mirror.Asshewatched,a
mandressedingraysweats
cameintoview.Hewas
runningataneasy,steady
pace,asifhecouldrun
forever.Hefollowedthe
publicpaththattracedthe
shoreline.Thelightswereon
inherkitchen.Sheknewthat
ifhelookedatthehousehe
wouldseeher.Shewaved.
Juliusraisedonehand,
acknowledgingthegreeting.
Forafewsecondsshecould
haveswornheactuallybroke
stride,perhapseven
consideredpausingtosay
goodmorning.Buthekept
going.
Shehadbeenlivinginthe
lakehousefornearlyaweek.
AlthoughshehadmetJulius
forthefirsttimelastnight,
shealreadyknewhisrunning
schedule.Hewentpasther
placeeveryothermorning
justbeforedawn.Thiswas
thefirstmorningthatshehad
wavedathim.Untillastnight
hehadbeenaninteresting
stranger.Todayhewasaman
withwhomshehadshared
somesecrets.
“I’mworriedaboutthis
newdevelopment,”Alison
said.“Embezzlementis
dangerousterritory.There’sa
strongpossibilitythatitwas
thereasonforWitherspoon’s
murder.”
GracewatchedJuliusuntil
hewasoutofsight.Whenhe
wasgonesheswitchedthe
phonetospeakermodeand
putthedevicedownonthe
counter.Shereachedforthe
jarofpeanutbutteranda
knife.
“Inahorriblewayitwould
bealmostreassuringtoknow
thattherewasalogical
motivelikemoneyinvolved,”
shesaid.“Otherwise
Sprague’sdeathmakesno
sense.”
Sheglancedattheclock.
Theearlymorningcallwas
unlikeAlison,wholiveda
well-scheduled,wellorganizedlifethatrevolved
aroundhomeandwork.Even
thebirthofherfirstchilda
yearearlierhaddonelittleto
disturbtheefficient
household.Shebalanced
careerandfamilywithan
aplombthatmadeother
womenmarvel.
Graceknewthatatthat
momentAlisonwasputting
thefinishingtoucheson
breakfast,afterwhichshe
woulddressinoneofher
tailoredbusinesssuitsbefore
headingtoheroffice.Alison
lookedgreatinasharpsuit.
Actually,shelookedterrific
injustaboutanything,Grace
thought.Heroldersisterwas
tallandwillowy.Butasa
successfullawyerwho
specializedinestateplanning,
Alisonelectedtoprojecta
conservativeair.Shewore
herdarkhairpulledbackina
stricttwistthatemphasized
herclassicprofile.Sleek,
seriousglassesframedher
eyes.
“Theproblemwiththe
embezzlementmotiveisthat
itpointstosomeonewhowas
workingdirectlyfor
Witherspoon,”Alisonsaid
grimly.
“Thathadoccurredtome.”
Gracetookthelidoffthejar
ofpeanutbutter.“You’re
worriedthatthecopswill
thinkIwastheonedoingthe
embezzling,aren’tyou?”
“You’retheonewhomade
Witherspoonsosuccessful.”
“That’snottrue,”Grace
said.“WhydoIhavetokeep
explainingthatSprague
Witherspoonwasthegenuine
article—amanwhotruly
wantedtodogood.And,yes,
hehadbeendoingverywell
financiallyinthepast
eighteenmonths.Butthat’s
justit.WhyonearthwouldI
wanttokillhim?Whywould
anyofusintheofficewantto
murderhim?Hewasmaking
himselfandeveryonearound
himquitewealthy.Besides,
webothknowIwouldn’t
haveacluehowtogoabout
constructingan
embezzlementscheme.”
“Embezzlementisalot
easierthanmostpeople
think,”Alisonsaid.“There
aresomanywaystosiphon
offmoneyfromasuccessful
businessliketheWitherspoon
Way.”
“Oddlyenoughyouarenot
thefirstpersontomention
thattomelately.”
“Ican’tbelieveyouwalked
inonanothermurder,”Alison
said.“Statisticallyspeaking,
theoddsofapersonwhoisn’t
inlawenforcementor
connectedtothecriminal
worldstumblingintotwo
differenthomicidescenes
mustbevanishinglysmall.”
“Statisticswasnevermy
bestsubject.Ikeepreminding
myselfthatcoincidencesdo
happen.That’swhythey
inventedtheword.”
“Howarethingsgoing
thereinCloudLake?”Alison
asked.
“Okay.I’mnotmaking
muchprogressonfindinga
newcareerpath,though.”
“Giveyourselfsometime.
It’snotlikeyouhaven’thada
coupleofmajorshockslately,
whatwiththemurderand
thenfindingyourself
unemployed.”
“Tellmeaboutit,”Grace
said.Thetoastpoppedupin
thetoaster.Sheremovedit,
setitonaplateandspread
somepeanutbutteronit.“But
asmuchasI’dliketoblame
mylackofmomentumon
thosethings,Idon’tthink
that’stherealproblem.”
“Whatisthereal
problem?”
Gracehesitated,unsureof
howmuchtoconfideto
Alison.Therewasnothing
hersistercoulddoexcept
worry.Buttheywerefamily,
afterall.Theyhadneverkept
secretsfromeachother,at
leastnotforlong.
“Thedreamisback,
Alison.Andsoarethe
anxietyattacks.”
“Damn.Iwasafraidthe
traumaofWitherspoon’s
deathmightdrageverything
tothesurfaceagain.Maybe
youshouldmakean
appointmentwithDr.
Peterson.”
“Ialreadyknowwhatshe
wouldsay.Shewouldremind
metopracticerewritingthe
dreamscriptbeforeIgoto
bedandtoremembertouse
thebreathingexercisesand
meditationtechniquesona
regularbasisand,if
necessary,takethemeds.I’m
doingallofthat.It’sjustthat
—”
Asmallamountofpeanut
butterdroppedofftheknife
andlandedonthecounter.
“Hangon,”Gracesaid.She
reachedforapapertowel.
“It’sjustwhat?”Alison
pressed.
Graceusedthetowelto
wipeupthepeanutbutter.
“It’sjustthatIcan’tshake
thisweirdfeelingthatthere’s
someconnectionbetween
Witherspoon’sdeathandthe
Tragermurder.”
Therewassilencefrom
Alison’send.
“It’sthebottleofvodka,
isn’tit?”shesaidfinally.
“Yes.”
“Perfectlyunderstandable,
givenwhathappenedinthe
past.Butyousaidthatthe
policefoundachargeforit
ononeofWitherspoon’s
creditcardstatements.
SpragueWitherspoonbought
thatbottleofvodkaafew
daysbeforehewas
murdered.”
“Hedidn’tdrinkvodka,
Alison.”
“Maybenot,buthe
entertainedfrequently,right?”
“That’strue,”Gracesaid.
“Thepolicedidsaythatthere
wasalargeselectionofliquor
bottlesinhiskitchen.ButI
toldyou,thisparticularbottle
ofvodkawassittingonthe
nightstandbesidethebed
whereIfoundthebody.”
Therewasalongsilence
ontheotherendoftheline.
Gracetookabiteoutofthe
sliceoftoastthatshehadjust
slatheredinpeanutbutter.
“Grace,doyouwantto
comeandstaywithEthanand
Harryandmeforawhile?”
Alisonsaidafteramoment.
“Youcanworkonyour
résuméhereinPortland.”
“Thanks,butIreallyneed
tostayfocusedonmyjob
huntingintheSeattlearea.I
can’tdothatfromPortland.”
“Haveyougotanyidea
whatyoumightwanttodo
next?”
“Zip.”Graceatesome
moretoast.“I’vebeentoldI
shouldcomeupwitha
businessplanforfindingmy
nextcareer.”
“Abusinessplanforjob
hunting?Isupposethere’s
somelogictothat.Whogave
youthatadvice?”
“AmanImetonablind
datethatIrenearrangedfor
melastnight.”
“Thetwoofyouwoundup
discussingbusinessplans?”
Alisonchuckled.“Sounds
likeatypicalblind-date
disaster.”
“HisnameisJuliusandhe
wasalotmoreinteresting
thananyoneelseI’vedated
recently.”
“Thatisn’tsayingmuch,is
it?Yoursociallifehasn’t
exactlybeenthestuffof
legendlately.”
“Let’sfaceit,mysocial
lifehasneverbeen
legendary.”
“Yourownfault,”Alison
said.“You’regoingtohave
tostopsendingoutvibesthat
attractmenwhoarelooking
forasisterorabestfriend.”
“I’llworkonthatassoon
asIgetanewjob.”
“Mom’sworryingabout
youagain,”Alisonsaid.“She
thinksyou’retoooldtobe
ricochetingfromonejobto
anothertryingtofind
yourself.She’sright.”
“Ifoundmyselfalong
timeago.It’sfindingacareer
thatisgivingmeproblems.
I’vegottotellyou,thejobat
theWitherspoonWaywasthe
bestpositionI’veeverhad.I
wouldhavebeenhappyto
staythere.”
“Well,that’snotanoption
now,isit?”
“Careful,you’restartingto
soundlikeMom.”
“I’mjustdoingmyjobas
youroldersister,”Alison
said.“Youknowthatasfaras
MomandIareconcerned,
SpragueWitherspoontook
advantageofyou.”
“That’snottrue.Hegave
meopportunities.”
“Youwrotethatcookbook
andblogthattookhimtothe
topoftheself-help-guru
worldbutitwashisnameon
both.”
“I’veexplainedtoyouthat
itisnotunusualfor
successfulpeopletopay
otherstowritetheirbooks
andblogs,”Gracesaid.
Thiswasnotthefirsttime
Alisonhadraisedthis
particularargument.Grace
decidedthatshedidnothave
thepatienceforitthis
morning.Shewasworkingon
aplanthathadpoppedinto
herheadafewminutesearlier
whenJuliushadrunpastthe
house.Timewasofthe
essence.
“Sorry,”shesaid,“I’vegot
togo.”
“Whereareyougoingat
thishourofthemorning?”
“I’mgoingtofocusonthe
firststageofmynewcareer
plan.Inspirationjuststruck.”
“Yousoundserious,”
Alisonsaid.“I’mimpressed.
And,mayIsay,it’sabout
timeyousettledonarealistic
careerpath.Iwasstartingto
worrythatyouwouldendup
workingasamimeoutin
frontofNordstrom’s.”
“Thanks,BigSister.You
doknowhowtomotivatea
person.NowIreallydohave
tohangupandgetbusy.”
“Doingwhat,exactly?”
“Itoldyou,mydatelast
nightsuggestedthatIbuilda
businessplandesignedto
helpmefindacareerpath.He
justwentpastthehouseon
hismorningrun.”
“So?’
“He’llturnaroundatthe
southernendofthelake
wherethepathendsatthe
marina.”
“I’mnotfollowingyou.”
“Thatmeanshe’llbe
comingbackthiswayina
fewminutes.I’mgoingto
intercepthim.”
“Why?”Alisonasked.
“I’mgoingtoaskhimifhe
willconsultforme.”
“Onwhat?”
Alisonsounded
dumbfoundednow.
“Onabusinessplan,”
Gracesaid.“Evidentlyhe’s
anexpertonbusinessstrategy
andstufflikethat.Talkto
youlater.”
“Wait,don’thangup.
Whatdoyouknowaboutthis
manyou’regoingto
intercept?”
“Notnearlyenough,”
Gracesaid.
Nine
G
raceendedthecall
andglancedatthe
clock.Given
Julius’spaceandhis
adherencetohisrunning
routineshethoughtshehad
abouttenminutesleftto
prepare.Sheopenedthe
refrigeratorandtookouttwo
hard-boiledeggsandabottle
ofspringwater.Nextshe
wentintothepantryand
foundtheoldwickerpicnic
basket.
Eightminuteslatershewas
ready.Shebundledupinher
downjacket,pickedupthe
picnicbasketandwentout
ontotheshelteredbackporch.
Alightrainwasfalling.She
pulledupthehoodofthe
coat.
Shecrossedtheporch,
wentdownthestepsand
hurriedthroughthesimple
wintergarden.Nowthather
motherandKirkwere
spendingagoodportionof
theyearinsunnylocales,the
landscapingaroundthehouse
hadbeenreducedtothe
basics.Thehardyshrubsand
thetreesthatremainedmade
astarkcontrasttotheglorious
greenerythatsurrounded
AgnesGilroy’sprettylittle
house.Butthen,Agneswasa
seriousPacificNorthwest
gardener.
Asifshehadbeenalerted
byapsychicintercept,Agnes
cameoutontoherbackporch
andwaved.
“Goodmorning,dear,”she
sangout.“Lovelyday,isn’t
it?”
Agneshadalwaysbeen
oneofGrace’sfavorite
people.Agneswasa
relentlessoptimistbut
Grace’smotherhadobserved
onmorethanoneoccasion
thatbeneathhercheery
exteriortheolderwomanwas
notonlysmart,shewasalsoa
shrewdjudgeofcharacter.
Sheworeherlonggray
hairinabunatthenapeof
herneckanddressedmostly
inbaggydenimjeans,flannel
shirtsandgardeningclogs.
Shehadbeenbornafree
spiritandhadevidentlylived
thelifestyle.Abotanistby
training,shehadtraveled
widelyinheryoungerdays
collectingplantspecimensfor
academicandpharmaceutical
research.Ifherstorieswere
tobebelieved,shehadalso
gatherednumerouslovers
alongtheway.Gracefound
Agnes’sreminiscences
entirelycredible.
AfterretiringAgneshad
devotedherselfto
competitivegardeningin
CloudLake.Shehadnever
marriedandhadmadeitclear
thatshepreferredtolive
alone.Butshortlyafter
HarleyMontoyahadmoved
totown,thatsituationhad
beensomewhatmodified.
Thecompetitionbetween
AgnesandHarleyhadled,
perhapsinevitably,toa
discreet,long-termaffair.
Withoutfail,Harley’struck
wasseenparkedinAgnes’s
drivewayeveryWednesday
andSaturdaynight.Itwas
alwaysgonebeforedawn.
“It’sriskytoletmenspend
theentirenight,dear,”Agnes
hadonceexplainedtoGrace.
“Itgivesthemthenotionthat
you’regoingtostartcooking
andcleaningforthem.”
Gracepausedhalfway
acrossthegarden.“Hi,
Agnes.Yes,it’sagreatday.”
Therainwasgetting
heavierbutGraceknewthat
neitherofthemwasgoingto
mentionthatlittlefact.There
wassomenatural,built-in
competitionbetweenpositive
thinkers,justastherewas
betweengardeners.
“GoingtowaylayMr.
Arkwright,dear?”Agnes
asked.“Isawhimgopasta
whileago.”
“IthoughtI’dgiveita
whirl,”Gracesaid.
“Itakeittheblinddate
wentwell,then.”Agnes
soundedgratified.“Iwas
prettysureithadwhenI
heardyouchasehimoutof
thehouselastnight.Thatsort
ofactivityearlyonisalways
asignofapromisingstartin
arelationship.”
“Doeseveryoneintown
knowaboutmyblinddate
withJulius?”Graceasked.
“Iexpectthereareafew
folkswhohaven’tbeen
payingattention,”Agnessaid,
“butforthemostpartIthink
it’ssafetosayit’scommon
knowledge.You’rerather
famousaroundhere,dear,at
leastamongthoseofuswho
havelivedinCloudLakefor
awhile.Haveawonderful
day,dear.”
Agneswentbackinside.
Thedoorbangedshutbehind
her.
Thelittlewroughtiron
gardengatewasdesignedto
bedecorative.Itwasnota
securitydevice.Grace
unlatcheditandsteppedout
ontothepath.Hertimingwas
perfect.ShecouldseeJulius
comingtowardher.
Whenhesawherhe
slowedhispace.Bythetime
hewasafewyardsawayhe
waswalking.
Hecametoahaltinfront
ofherandsmiledaslow,
wickedsmilethatwas
reflectedinhiseyes.He
suddenlylookedyoungerand
almostcarefree.
“Well,ifitisn’tLittleRed
RidingHood.”Hissmile
widenedintoawolfishgrin.
“AndtothinkInever
believedinfairytales.”
Graceglanceddownather
redjacket.Shefelttheheat
riseinhercheeks.
“Okay,theredcoatand
hoodthingissheer
coincidence,”shesaid.
“Ifyousayso.”
Juliuswasdrenchedwith
sweatandrain.Thefrontof
hisgraypulloverwassoaked.
Hishairwasplasteredtohis
head.Rivuletsofwatermixed
withperspirationstreamed
downhisface.
Normallyshewasnotkeen
onsweatymen.Sheknew
somewomenwereattracted
tomaleswholookedasif
theyhadjustemergedfroma
cagefightbutshewasnot
oneofthem.ButJulius
Arkwrightdrenchedinsweat
wasanaltogetherdifferent
beast.Standingthiscloseto
himarousedsomething
primaldeepinside.
Focus,woman.
“Youprobablywonder
whyI’mouthereintherain,
barringyourpath,”shesaid.
“I’mgoingtotakeaflying
leapandsaythepicnicbasket
hassomesignificance.”
“Yes,itdoes,”shesaid.
“Here’sanotherclue,Iam
notonmywaytoGrandma’s
house.”
“Thatleavesuswithahigh
probabilitythatyouhave
deliberatelyinterceptedme.”
“Averystrongpossibility,”
sheagreed.
Heglancedattheclosed
lidofthewickerbasketwith
anexpressionofdeep
interest.“Whathaveyougot
inthere?”
“Abribe.”
“Whodoyouplanto
bribe?”
“Aconsultant,Ihope.”
Heraisedhisbrows.“You
areinneedofaconsultant?”
“Apparentlyso.”
“Whatdoyouwantthe
consultanttodoforyou?”
Juliusasked.
“Helpmeworkupa
businessplanthatwillenable
metofindanewcareer,one
thatIwillfindchallenging,
excitingandfulfilling—
preferablyacareerthatwill
lastlongerthaneighteen
months.Iwanttofindmy
truecalling.”
“Ithoughtyouwerejust
tryingtofindajob.”
“Myaspirationsare
actuallysomewhatmore
aspirational.Ihavemywork
attheWitherspoonWayto
thankforthat,Isuppose.I’m
surethattherightcareerfor
meisouttheresomewhere,
waitingformetofindit.”
Juliusstudiedthebasket.
“AmItoassumethatin
exchangeforassistingyouin
findingyourdreamjobthe
consultantgetswhateverisin
thatbasket?”
“Right,”shesaidbriskly.
“Dowehaveadeal?”
“Youwantmetoagreeto
thedealbeforeIseethe
natureofthebribe?”
“IsupposeIcouldgiveyou
apeek.”
Sheraisedthelidofthe
basketverybrieflytoreveal
theitemsneatlypackedinside
—twohard-boiledeggs,an
orange,twochunkyslicesof
multi-grainbread,alittle
plasticcanisterfilledwith
peanutbutter,abottleof
springwaterandathermos.
“It’sapicnicbreakfast,”
sheexplained.Shesnapped
thelidofthebasketclosedto
keepouttherain.“There’s
coffeeinthethermos.”
“Huh.Idon’tknowabout
this.Withtheexceptionof
thecoffeeandthepeanut
butter,italllookedsortof
healthy.”
“It’sallveryhealthy.The
coffeeisfair-tradeorganic
andthepeanutbutterisnot
onlyorganic,itis
unadulteratedwith
sweetenersorstabilizers.”
“Thatpicnicalsoappeared
tobeveryvegetarian.”
“Isthataproblem?”she
challenged.
“Nope.Foodisfood.”He
pluckedthepicnicbasket
fromherarmwithaquick,
deftmotion.“You’vegot
yourselfaconsultant.When
doyouwanttostart?”
“Howaboutthis
morning?”
“Let’smakeitlunch.Your
morningisalreadybooked.”
“Itis?”
“You’rehavingyourlittle
chatwithDevaboutthose
stalkeremails,remember?”
“Oh,yeah,right.”
“Seeyouforlunch.”
Juliuslopedoffwiththe
picnicbasket.Shestoodthere
inthefallingrainand
watchedhimuntilhe
vanishedfromsightarounda
woodedbend.Hemadea
veryinterestingBigBad
Wolf.
It’sjustabusiness
arrangement,shetoldherself.
Butitwaspossiblethat
wasn’tthewholetruth.It
was,infact,conceivablethat
anobjectiveobserverwould
describethesituationinan
entirelydifferentway.
Somepeople—the
unenlightenedtype—might
saythatshewasflirtingwith
theBigBadWolf.
Ten
S
atisfiedwithherfirst
seriousmovetoward
findinghercalling,
Gracewentbackinsidethe
house.Shetookoffhercoat
andhungitonahookinthe
smallclosetoffthekitchen
thatservedasamudroom.It
wasagoodtimetopractice
herthirdritual.Sheneededto
fortifyherselfforthecoming
interviewwithChief
Nakamura.Itwashardto
thinkofhimasDevlinwhen
hewasinuniform.
Shelockedthedoors,
changedintoherworkout
clothesandunrolledthe
exercisemat.Shestoodatthe
endofthematforatime,
composingherselffromhead
totoe—mindandbody—as
shehadbeentaught.
Whenshewasreadyshe
tookthefirststepinthefluid
movesoftheancientsystem
ofphysicalmeditationthat,
togetherwiththeevening
house-checkandthe
breathingexercises,keptthe
nightmaresandpanicattacks
undersomesemblanceof
control.
Eleven
Y
oushouldhave
toldDevlinabout
thoseemails
you’vebeenreceivingfrom
Witherspoon’saccount,”
Irenesaid.
“Theredidn’tseemtobe
muchpoint,”Gracesaid.
“Thereisn’tanythinghecan
do.Besides,therehaveonly
beenafewofthem.”
Shespokemostlyintoher
mugofcoffeebecauseshe
knewwhatwascomingnext.
Talkabouteasypredictions,
shethought.Maybeshe
shouldconsideracareerasa
psychic.
“You’veonlyreceiveda
fewemailsfromsome
dementedstalker?”Irene
yelped.“Listentoyourself,
woman.Someoneis
harassingyouandallyoucan
sayis,well,therehaveonly
beenafewscaryemails.”
“Okay,okay,maybeI’m
feelingataddefensive
becauseeveryoneisonmy
casethismorningaboutthose
emails.Idon’tthinkI’m
beingstalked.Notexactly.
Andwouldyoupleasekeep
yourvoicedown?It’sbad
enoughthatmyfriends,
familyandJuliusArkwright
thinkI’manaiveidiot.I
wouldappreciateitifyou
didn’tbroadcastthenewsto
yourcustomersaswell.”
Theyweresittingatatable
inIrene’soffice.Gracehad
headedstraighttoCloudLake
Kitchenwareassoonasshe
finishedtalkingtoDevlinat
theCloudLakePolice
Departmentheadquarterstwo
blocksaway.Juliushad
insistedonaccompanyingher
tothetenseinterview.Bythe
timeitwasovershehadfelt
utterlydrainedandinneedof
afriendlyear.Butallshehad
gottenfromIrenethusfarwas
morelecturing.
Thedoorbetweenthe
officeandthesalesfloorof
thegourmetcookwarestore
wasclosedbuttherewasa
longwindow.Gracecould
seemostofthefrontofthe
shop.Itwasnotyetnoonbut
CloudLakeKitchenwarewas
bustlingwithcustomerswho
werebrowsingthecookbook
collection,admiringbouquets
ofcolorfulsiliconspatulas
andexaminingthegleaming
potsandpans.
Theemployees,dressedin
darkgreenapronsstamped
withtheshop’slogo,were
busybutthatdidnotmean
theycouldnotoverheara
privateconversationinthe
office—notifIrene’svoice
roseanyhigher.
Ireneclearedherthroatand
loweredhervoice.“Ican’t
helpbutnoticethatyouput
Juliusintoathirdcategory.”
Gracefrowned.“What?”
“Yousaidfriends,family
andJuliusArkwrightthought
youwereanaiveidiot,”Irene
remindedher.“Youplaced
Juliusinaspecialcategory.”
“Well,he’snotfamilyand
he’snotexactlyafriend.”
“Whatishe,then?”
“I’mnotsurehowto
describehim,”Grace
admitted.
“Butyou’resurehethinks
you’reanaiveidiot?”Irene
asked,evidentlyintriguedby
thepossibility.“Heactually
saidthat?”
Graceslumpedbackinher
chair.“Hedidn’tusethose
exactwordsbutit’snothard
totellthat’swhathe’s
thinking.Itappearstobea
commonlyheldassumption.”
“That’snottrue.Your
friendsandfamilyand,I’m
sure,Julius,aswell,arejust
worriedaboutyou,that’sall.”
“Yes,Iknow.Anddeep
downIappreciateit,reallyI
do.Butinspiteof
appearances,I’mnotentirely
incapableoftakingcareof
myself.”
“Weknowthat.”
“Yeah,sureyoudo.”Grace
dranksomeofhercoffee.“Be
honest.YouthinkI’manaive
idiot.”
Irene’seyesnarrowedin
suddencomprehension.“You
knowwhoissendingthose
emails,don’tyou?”
“I’mnotpositivebutI
suspectthatthesenderis
probablyNylaWitherspoon.”
Gracesetthemugdownon
thedesk.“I’llbetshecame
acrossthepasswordfor
Sprague’semailaccount.It’s
notlikeSpraguetreateditas
topsecret.”
“Nowshe’spissedand
sendingyouthoseemails
becauseshethinksyou
embezzledmoneyfrom
SpragueWitherspoonthat
shouldhavecometoher.”
“AssumingNylaisbehind
theemails,Ineedtoremind
everyonethatshestarted
sendingthembeforeitwas
discoveredthatalotof
moneywasmissing.Shewas
jealousofSprague’soffice
staffbecauseweworkedso
closelywithherfather.But
shefixatedonme.”
“Becauseyouweretheone
whodidthemosttoelevate
hiscareer,”Irenesaidcalmly.
“Peoplekeepsayingthat,
butit’snottrue.”
“There’snomaybeabout
it.Yourcookbookandthe
blogarewhatput
Witherspoonintothebig
time.”
“Ikeeptryingtoexplain
thatitwasSprague
Witherspoon,himself,who
wastheforcebehindhisown
success.Ijusthelpedhim
markethisconcepts.”
“Bull,”Irenesaid.“Itwas
thecookbookandtherelated
blogwithallthosedippy
dailyaffirmationsthatmade
himfamousinthe
motivationalgurubusiness.
You’retheonewhowroteall
ofthatstuff.”
Graceraisedherbrows.
“Dippydailyaffirmations?”
“Sorry.”Irenewinced.“As
abrandingtechniquethose
affirmationswerenothing
shortofbrilliant.Butgetting
backtotheemails,whoelse
mighthavethepasswordto
Witherspoon’saccount?”
“Anynumberofpeople,
includingme,”Gracesaid
morosely.
“I’llbetNylaorwhoeveris
behindtheemailsishoping
thecopswillassumethatyou
aresendingthoseemailsto
yourself.”
“Thatpossibilityhas
occurredtome,”Gracesaid.
“WhydoyouthinkIdidn’t
mentionthemtoDevlin?I
figuredhewouldjumptothat
conclusion.”
“No,”Irenesaid.Shesaid
itveryfirmly.
“Whoeverisemailingme
fromSprague’saccounthas
beenverycarefultomake
surethecontentsarenot
overtlythreatening.Ithink
thatindicatesthatthesender
doesn’twantthecopstolook
toohardinthatdirection.”
“Buttheemailsare
definitelyintendedtorattle
yournerves,”Irenesaid.
“Oh,sure.”Gracedrank
somemorecoffeeand
loweredthemug.“Imust
admitthesenderhashad
somesuccessinthatregard.
I’mnotsleepingwellthese
days.”
“Iwouldn’tbesleeping
well,either,underthe
circumstances,”Irenesaid.
Shepausedabeatandthen
softenedhertone.“Doyou
reallybelievethatJulius
thinksyou’renaiveand
maybenottoobright?”
Gracestartedtosayyesbut
shehesitatedandthen
shrugged.“Maybe.Buthe’s
hardtoread.Ialsohaveto
facethefactthatthereis
anotherpossibility.”
“What’sthat?”
“Hemightstillbe
wonderingifIdidkill
SpragueWitherspoon.”
Irenesethermugdown
withabangthatreverberated
throughtheoffice.“I’msure
hedoesn’tbelievethat.”
“Doyouknowhimwell
enoughtobeabletotellwhat
he’sthinking?”
“Well,no.Asyoujustsaid,
he’shardtoread.ButJulius
andDevhavebeenfriendsfor
years.I’msureDevwould
neverhavegonealongwith
thedinnerdatelastnightifhe
wasn’tconvincedthatyou
andJuliusmadeagood
match.”
Gracemanagedagrim
smile.“Andeveryonethinks
I’mnaive.”
Ireneglared.“Ibegyour
pardon?”
“Getreal.Youknowme
wellenoughtotrustmebut
Devlindoesn’t.Furthermore
he’sacop—onewhohappens
tohaveanoldpalintown,
someonewhoseinstinctshe
probablydoestrust.Sohe
goesalongwithyourlittle
matchmakingscheme
becausehefiguresitwillgive
himtheperfectopportunityto
getJulius’stakeonme.”
Ireneopenedhermouthto
protestbutafterafew
secondsshecloseditagain.
Shedrummedherfingerson
thedesktop.
“Hmm,”shesaid.
“Don’tworry,I’mnot
takingDevlin’sdistrust
personally,”Gracesaid.
Irene’sbrowsrose.“That’s
verygraciousofyou.”
“I’mserious.Dev’sfirst
priorityistoprotectyou.I
canseeitinhiseyesevery
timehelooksatyou.The
possibilitythatyourbest
friendmightbeamurderer—
and/oranembezzler—is
naturallyofconsiderable
interesttohim.”
“I’msurehedoesn’t
believethatyoukilled
Witherspoonorstolethe
money.”
“Ididn’tsayhebelieved
allthatstuff.Ijustsaidhe’s
concerned—inpartbecause
I’mnowlivinginhistown
butmostlybecauseofyou.
He’sagoodcop.He’salsoa
goodhusband.He’lldowhat
hethinkshehastodoto
protectyou.”
“Yes,butIstillcan’t
believethathewentsofaras
toaskJuliusforhistakeon
you,”Irenesaid.
“Seemslikealogical
move,whenyouthinkabout
it.”
Ireneeyedherkeenly.
“Youknow,somepeople
mightbequiteannoyedupon
discoveringthatwhatthey
thoughtwasaninnocentblind
datewasactuallyan
undercoverstingoperation.”
“TurnsoutI’vegotbigger
problems,”Gracesaid.“As
weattheWitherspoonWay
wouldsay,TodayIwillfocus
onprioritiesandignorethe
unimportantcrap.”
Irenelookedpained.“You
justmadeupthataffirmation
onthespot,didn’tyou?”
“Yep.Hasacertainringto
it,don’tyouthink?”
Theydranktheircoffee
quietlyforatime.Thesilence
betweenthemwasthekind
thatcouldbegeneratedonly
byalongfriendship.Aftera
whileIrenestirredinher
chair.
“Let’sreversethis
process,”shesaid.“What’s
yourtakeonJulius
Arkwright?”
“He’sbored,”Gracesaid.
“What?”Irenestaredat
her,startled.“DevlinandI
havebeenwonderingifJulius
issinkingintosomekindof
low-gradedepression.He
hasn’tevendatedverymuch
sincehisdivorceacoupleof
yearsago.”
Graceshrugged.“He’s
drifting.Withsomepeople,
boredomcanlookalotlike
depression.”
“Whendidyougeta
degreeinpsychology?”
“Okay,you’vegotme
there.Butifyouwillrecall,
Mommademespendalotof
timewithashrinkafterthe
crapthathappenedupatthe
oldasylum.Ilearnedalot.
WhatmadeyouandDevlin
thinkthatJuliuswas
depressed?”
“DevtoldmethatJuliusis
thinkingveryseriouslyabout
sellinghisventurecapital
company,”Irenesaidslowly.
“So?Alotofpeoplebuild
companiesandthensellthem.
It’sadreamcometruefor
mostbusinesspeople.”
“Devsayshedoesn’tthink
that’sthecasewithJulius.”
“Whynot?”
“JuliusbuiltArkwright
Venturesfromscratch,”Irene
said.“Hepouredhisheart
andsoulintoit,accordingto
Dev.Juliuslovestheventure
capitalbusinessoratleasthe
didatonetime.He’smadea
fortunebecausehe’svery
goodatwhathedoes.But
abouttwoyearsagohiswife
lefthimforanotherman.”
Gracesquaredher
shoulders.“Irepeat,so?”
“Wow.”Ireneblinked.
“Aren’tyouthehard-hearted
womantoday?”
Gracetightenedhergripon
hermug.“Don’tlookatme
likethat.Divorcehappens.”
“Well,yes,butyou’re
usuallyalittlemore
sympatheticaboutsuch
things.”
“MaybeJuliuspoureda
littletoomuchofhisheart
andsoulintohisbusiness,”
Gracesaid.“Maybeheshould
havesavedsomeforhis
wife.”
Irenenoddedslowly.“You
mayberight.Devdidsaythat
Juliuswasmarriedtohis
company.It’sentirely
possiblethatthewifefelt
neglected.But,really,she
didn’thavetorunoffwith
Julius’svicepresidentand
trustedfriend.”
Gracethoughtaboutthat.
“Okay,you’reright,that’s
cold.”
“DevsaysJuliushas
seemedsortofnumbsince
then,likehe’srunningon
autopilot.Hekeepsmaking
moneybutthethrillisgone.”
“Thereareproblemsinthe
worldandthenthereare
problems,”Gracesaidevenly.
“Frankly,theabilitytomake
moneywithouteventrying
doesn’tstrikemeasahuge
burdentobear.”
Irenesmiledbriefly.“You
reallyarenotinclinedtobe
sympathetictoJulius
Arkwrighttoday,areyou?”
“Hedoesn’tneed
sympathy.Butifitmakesyou
feelbetter,Icantellyouthat
thismorningIhiredhimto
consultforme.”
Irene’smouthfellopen.
“Youwhat?”
“Lastnightwhenhetook
mehomehetoldmethatI
neededtodrawupastrategy
designedtohelpmefinda
newcareer.ThismorningI
hiredhimtoshowmehowto
goaboutmakingtheplan.”
“Youhiredhim?”Irene
said.Nowshelookedblank.
“Technicallyspeaking,it
wasabribe.”
“Eitherway,you’rejoking.
Youcan’taffordJulius
Arkwright.”
“Ialreadygavehimthe
bribe.Hetookit.Wehavea
deal.”
Irene’seyeswidened.
“Pleasedon’ttellmeyou’re
sleepingwithhim.Atleast
notyet.IlikeJulius,yes.I
thinkthetwoofyouwould
makeaninterestingcouple.
Butit’swaytoosoon—
especiallyforyou.Weboth
knowthatjumpingintobed
withamanonthefirstdateis
notyourstyle.”
“No,ofcourseI’mnot
sleepingwithJulius
Arkwright.”Gracebrushed
thatasidewithawide,
sweepingmotionofherhand
andbeetledherbrowsatIrene
—makingitclearthatshehad
nointentionofhoppinginto
bedwithJulius.
Unfortunatelyshecouldnot
besureifshewastryingto
reassureIreneorherself.“But
Ithinkhe’sgotapointabout
meneedingsomekindof
careerpathplan,”she
continuedhastily.
“Youdo?”
“I’mcertainlynotgetting
anywhereonmyown.Ican’t
seemtofocus.Heappearsto
beanexpertonplanningand
strategy.So,whenheranby
myhousethismorningI
interceptedhimwithapicnic
basketfullofbreakfast
goodiesandtoldhimitwasa
bribeforhisservicesasa
consultant.Heaccepted.”
“Didhe?”Irenetappedthe
penlightlyonthedesktop.
“Sotheblinddatewasnota
completedisaster.”
“Notifitkeepsmefrom
endingupasastreetmime
outinfrontofNordstrom.”
Irenelookedather.“Well,
atleastyou’dbeworkingin
frontofNordstrom.You
wouldn’tbejustanystreet
mime.”
“YouknowwhatImean.I
wanttofindoutwhatitisthat
Iammeanttodoinlife,
Irene.Mycalling.My
passion.Ihaven’thadany
luckwiththeonline
questionnairesthatare
supposedtoguideyoutoan
appropriatecareerpath.SoI
figureIhavenothingleftto
losebygettingsomeplanning
advicefromanexpert.”
“Inotherwords,youdo
likeJulius,”Irenesaidwitha
smugair.“Atleastenoughto
askforhisadvice.”
Gracesmiledacrafty
smile.“Somepeoplewould
sayI’musinghim.”
AmusementlitIrene’s
eyes.“Iseriouslydoubtthat
Juliuswouldletanyoneuse
him.Hehasbeenknownto
dotheoccasionalfavor,
however.”
“Really?”
“Whodoyouthink
arrangedthefinancingI
neededtostartCloudLake
Kitchenware?Whodoyou
thinkhelpedmefinda
websitedesignertotakethe
businessonline?Whodoyou
thinkguidedmethroughthe
taxandaccountingissuesand
taughtmehowtodoaprofitand-lossstatement?”
“Ah,”Gracesaid.“Isee.”
Irene’sexpressionturned
serious.“LikeIsaid,I’m
ratherfondofJuliusand
gratefultohim.Furthermore,
IknowthatDevwouldtrust
himwithhislife.Infact,that
iswhathappenedwhenthey
servedtogetherinawarzone
afewyearsago.Devalso
trustsJuliuswithour
retirementfundinvestments.
Butifyou’regoingtoget
involvedwithJulius
Arkwright,Ithinkthereis
somethingyoushouldknow
abouthim.”
“I’mlistening.”
“Thevicepresidentwho
marriedJulius’sexisEdward
Hastings.He’soneofthe
Seattle-real-estate-empire
Hastingses.Fourth-generation
landdevelopers.Hisfamily’s
companyownsahugechunk
ofdowntownSeattlereal
estate,includingafewoffice
towers.”
Graceconsideredthe
informationbrieflyandthen
raisedoneshoulderina
dismissivelittleshrug.
“Whydoesthatmatterto
me?”sheasked.
“ShortlyafterEdward
HastingsleftArkwright
Ventureshenotonlymarried
Julius’sex,healsobecame
thepresidentandCEOofthe
Hastingsfamilyempire.”
“Stillwaitingfortheother
shoetodrop,Irene.”
“Therearerumorsthat
underEdwardHastings’s
controlthefirmhasstumbled
afewtimesinthepast
eighteenmonths.Majordeals
haveslippedawayto
competitors.”
GracewatchedIreneover
therimofthecoffeemug.
“Whatdoesthathavetodo
withJulius?”
“I’masmall-business
personwhoswimsinavery
smallpondhereinCloud
Lake.IadmitthatIdon’t
knowalotabouttheshark
poolinwhichJuliusdoeshis
hunting.ButItrytokeepup
withthePacificNorthwest
businessnews,andbecause
ofDev’sfriendshipwith
Julius,Isometimeshearbits
andpiecesofgossip.”
“Whathaveyouheardthat
isworryingyou?”Grace
asked.
Ireneleanedforwardand
foldedherarmsonthedesk.
“Hastingsisinrealtrouble.
Somepeoplearepredicting
thatunderEdwardHastings’s
leadershipwewillseethe
downfallofafamily-held
companythathasbeen
aroundfornearlyacentury.
Thebusinessworldislikea
smalltown—oncearumor
starts,itcaneasilybecomea
self-fulfillingprophecy.”
Gracereflectedbriefly.
“Whatdoesthishavetodo
withJulius?”
“Thegossipisthatthe
downwardslideofthe
Hastingsfamilyempirehas
beencausedbyoneman—
JuliusArkwright.”
“Theythinkhe’soutfor
revenge?Thathe’ssomehow
sabotagingHastings?”
“Yes.”
Gracegavethatsome
thought.“Andthishasbeen
goingonforhowlong?”
“Nearlytwoyears.The
timingissignificant.”
“Becauseitcoincideswith
thetimingofJulius’s
divorce?”
“Peoplearesayingthat
Juliusintendstodestroy
Hastings.Devtellsmethat
whenJuliussetshissightson
agoal,hedoesn’tquit.Likea
heat-seekingmissile,hejust
keepsgoinguntilhereaches
histarget.”
“Ican’tbelieveyousetme
uponablinddatewithaman
youfeelcompelledto
describeinmilitaryterms.”
“That’sDev’sdescription,”
Irenesaid.“Ijustwantedyou
toknowabouttherumors
beforeyougotanymore
involvedwithJulius.Ifit’s
truethathe’splotting
revenge,theremaybe
collateraldamage.”
“You’retheonewhosetup
theblinddate.Nowyou’re
tryingtowarnmeabout
Julius?”
“Ireallydothinkthatyou
andJuliuswouldbegood
together.ButIwilladmitthat
DevandIwerealsohoping
thatifyoutwohititoff,
Juliusmightbe...distracted
fromwhateveritishe’sdoing
toHastings.”
“Stoptryingtomakeme
feelsorryforJulius
Arkwright.”
Ireneblinked.“Thatisnot
exactlywhatI’mtryingto
accomplishhere.”
“Yes,itis.You’retryingto
makemethinkthathe’s
depressedandobsessedwith
revengeandinneedoffixing.
ButasfarasIcantell,Julius
ismorethancapableoftaking
careofhimself.Ijusttold
you,Ihaveotherprioritiesat
themoment.I’mtryingtoget
alife,remember?”
“Right.Alife.”Irenesat
backinherchair.“And
you’vehiredJuliusArkwright
tohelpyoucomeupwitha
plantogetsaidlife.”
“That’sit,”Gracesaid
smoothly.“Justabusiness
transaction.Youcanmove
along.Nothingtoseehere.”
“Don’tgivemethat.What
happenedwhenJuliustook
youhomelastnight?”
Gracepursedherlips.
“Amongotherthings,he
askedmeflat-outifI
murderedWitherspoon.”
“Oh,jeez,”Irenegroaned.
“Notexactlyagreat
conversation-starter.”
“Nope.Butitsurewasa
finewaytoendone,whichis
whathappened.Sortof.I
kickedhimoutofthehouse.
Onhiswayoutthedoorhe
assuredmethathebelieved
me.”
“Butyoukickedhimout,
anyway.”
“Ofcourse.”Grace
swallowedsomecoffeeand
loweredthemug.“Butthen
hecalledme.”
“Didhe,now?”Irenesaid
verysoftly.
“Iendeduptellinghim
abouttheweirdemailsand
thenextthingIknew,hewas
orderingmetotellDevlin
abouttheemails,whichis
whyIwenttoDevlin’soffice
today,etcetera,etcetera.
Andthereyouhaveit.A
completeportraitofablind
dategonebadbutpossiblya
goodsignforthefutureofmy
careerplanning.”
Irenetappedthepenonthe
deskagain,verythoughtful
now.“Isthereanywaythat
calllastnightcouldbe
describedasphonesex?”
“Absolutelynot.”
TalkingtoJuliusonthe
phonehadbeenastrangely
intimateexperience,Grace
thought.Butsherefusedto
describeitasphonesex.Not
thatshe’deverhadphone
sex.Itwassimplythat,after
gettinghitwiththelatest
emailfromthestalker,she
hadfeltaneedtoconfidein
someone.Itjustsohappened
thatJuliushadbeentheone
tocallheratthatmoment.
Serendipity.Orcoincidence.
Orchaostheory.Something
likethatprobablyexplained
everything.
“I’mnotsurewhattosay.”
Ireneshookherhead.“Like
Dev,Juliusisalittledeepin
places.”
“Nowthere’sastartling
revelation.”
Ireneignoredher.“Iguess
itcomesdowntothefactthat
Ithinkyoucantrusthim.
And,likeIsaid,he’sthekind
ofmanwhowilldofavorsfor
friends.Hetookachanceon
mewhennooneelsewould.”
“Anyinvestmentisarisk
butyouandCloudLake
Kitchenwareareascloseasit
getstoasurething.”
“CloudLakeKitchenware
isworking,”Irenesaid.Pride
andsatisfactionbrightened
herexpression.“It’sactually
goingtoturnaniceprofitthis
year.Butitwillnevermake
thekindofmoneythatJulius
isaccustomedtorakingin
withhisbiginvestments.This
particularprojectispettycash
forhim.”
“Asithappens,Juliustold
methathe’sgotenough
money.”
SurpriselitIrene’seyes.
Thenshesmiled.“Didhesay
that?”
“Yes.”
“Don’tthinkI’veever
heardanyoneactuallysay
thatbefore.”
“Itoldyou,whatJulius
Arkwrightislookingfor
thesedaysisawaytoescape
boredom.”
“Consideringthefactthat
youmetJuliuslessthan
twenty-fourhoursago,you
sureseemtoknowalotabout
him.”
“He’shardtoreadbutnot
impossible.”Gracedrankthe
restofhercoffeeandsetthe
mugdown.“Iknowyou
meantwell,butpromiseme
youwon’tsetmeupwithany
moreblinddates,atleastnot
untilIgetmylifetogether.”
Sherosetoherfeet.“I’d
betterbeonmyway.Ihave
todosomegroceryshopping
andthenIamscheduledto
meetmyconsultantfora
luncheonmeeting.Weare
supposedtostartbuildingmy
businessplan.”
“Whatwillyoudoifyou
don’tcomeupwithastrategy
thatleadsyoutoyour
personalcalling?”
“Firemyconsultant.”
Twelve
T
herainhadstopped
bythetimeGrace
finishedher
shoppingandgotbehindthe
wheeltodrivebacktothe
lakehouse.Thehighcloud
coverremained,however,
infusingtheatmospherewith
thepeculiarglarygraylight
thatmadesunglassesa
necessity,eveninwinter.
Shedidnotrecognizethe
expensive-lookingsilver
sedanparkedinfrontofthe
lakehousebutsheknewthe
blondeinthefrontseatalltoo
well.NylaWitherspoon.
Firstavisitwiththelocal
chiefofpoliceandnowNyla
haddecidedtopayacallon
her.Thedaywasnot
improvingmarkedly,Grace
decided.Shetriedtocomeup
withanaffirmationthat
appliedtothesituation.
Nothingsprangtomind.
Shebroughthercartoa
haltandmentallybraced
herselffortheencounter.
Nylaeruptedfromthefront
seatofthesedan.
Shewasathin,sharp-faced
womanwho,ifshesmiled
more,wouldhavebeenquite
attractiveinachic,elfinway.
Butwhenshewasnotsmiling
—whichwasmostofthetime
asfarasGracecouldtell—
shelookedlikeallsheneeded
wasabroomstickanda
pointedhattocompleteher
ensemble.Thebitternessand
angerthatsimmeredinher
eyesseemedtobubbleup
fromsomeplacedeepinside.
Shestalkedovertothe
compact,arrivingjustas
Gracegotthedooropen.
“Didyouthinkyoucould
hidehereinCloudLake?”
Nyla’ssunglassesmadeit
impossibletoreadhereyes
buthervoicewastightwith
rage.“DidyouthinkI
wouldn’tfindyou?”
“Ididn’tknowyouwere
lookingforme,”Gracesaid.
Shetookoffherownshades.
“Youcouldhavecalled.What
doyouwant,Nyla?”
“YouknowwhyI’mhere.
Iwantmyfather’smoney—
themoneythatshouldhave
cometome.”
“I’vetoldyoubefore,I
don’thaveit.”
“You’relying.You
embezzleditfrommy
father’scorporation.You’ve
probablygotithiddenin
someoffshoreaccount.”
Graceclosedhereyesfora
coupleofsecondsand
remindedherselfthatNyla
hadsomeseriousissues.
“Idon’tknowanything
aboutthemissingmoney,”
shesaid.Shetriedtopitchher
voicetoasoothinglevel.“By
theway,Itoldthepolice
aboutthoseemailsyou’ve
beensendingtomefromyour
father’saccount.Itamounts
tostalking,youknow.”
“Whatareyoutalking
about?Whatemails?”
“Nyla,ifyou’retheone
whohasbeenemailingme,it
hasgottostop.Thecopsare
tryingtocatchyourfather’s
killer.Theyneedyourhelp.
Focusingyourrageonme
won’tdoanygood.”
Nyla’ssharpfeatures
tightened.“Alotofpeople,
includingthepolice,think
thatyoumightbetheone
whomurderedmyfather.”
Gracespreadherhands.
“WhywouldIkillmy
employerandcutoffthecash
flow?Thinkaboutit,Nyla.
Spraguewastheonewho
broughtinthemoney,notme.
Itwashisnameontheblog
andonthecookbook.Iwas
justhisassistant.Trustme,
withyourfathergone,the
cashflowwilldryupfast.”
“Youshothimbecausehe
foundoutthatyouwere
stealinghismoney.He
probablyconfrontedyou,
maybethreatenedtoreport
youtothepolice.Youhadto
getridofhim.”
“Thatsimplyisnottrue,”
Gracesaid.“Iwashomethe
nightyourfatherwas
murdered.”
“Yourso-calledalibiwon’t
holdwater.Yes,Iknowthey
saythesecurityvideoshows
yourcarparkedinthe
apartmentgaragethatnight
butthatdoesn’tmeanyou
didn’tleavethebuilding.You
couldhaveslippedoutand
takenacabtomyfather’s
houseonQueenAnne.”
“Youcan’tprovethat.No
onecanproveit,becauseit
neverhappened.”
“Yourprintswereatthe
scene.”ButNylasounded
lesscertainnow.
“Myprintswereatthe
scenebecauseI’mtheone
whofoundthebody,”Grace
said,strugglingtoholdonto
herpatience.“Getreal,Nyla.
That’snotproof.”
“Someonemusthaveseen
youleaveyourapartmentthat
night,”Nylawailed.
“I’mnotlying,”Grace
said,tryingtode-escalatethe
situation.“Whenthecops
findyourfather’skiller,I’m
surethey’llfindthemoney,
too.”
ButNylawasnolonger
lookingather.Shewas
staringpastGrace’sshoulder.
Uncertaintyflashedacross
herface.Sheswitchedher
attentionbacktoGrace.
“I’mwillingtonegotiate,”
Nylasaidquickly.“I’llgive
youapercentage.Wecancall
itafinder’sfeeora
commission.Iswearyou
won’twalkawayemptyhanded.Returnthemoney
andIwon’tpress
embezzlementcharges.Think
aboutit.I’llgiveyoufortyeighthours.”
Withoutwaitingfora
response,sheswungaround
andwentswiftlytowardher
car.
Curioustoseewhoorwhat
haddistractedNylaand
inspiredhertoquitthescene,
GraceturnedandsawJulius
comingaroundthesideofthe
house.Sherealizedhehad
usedthefootpathtowalk
fromhisplacetohers.
Hedidnotappeartobein
arushbuthewascoveringa
lotofgroundinanefficient
manner.Hewasdressedin
jeans,akhakishirt,lowboots
andablackleatherbomber
jacket.Apairofwraparound
sunglassesglintedominously
inthegrayishlight.The
overalleffectwasrather
menacing.Graceunderstood
whyNylahaddecidedto
departinahurry.
JuliusreachedGrace’sside
secondsbeforeNylasped
past,tiresspittingoutgravel.
HeseizedGrace’sarmand
hauledheroutofthewayof
thesmallbitsofflyingrock.
“Wasthat,byanychance,
Witherspoon’sdaughter?”
Juliusasked.
“Goodguess.Nyla
Witherspoon.”Gracetriedto
gentlyextricateherarmfrom
Julius’shand.Heseemedto
haveforgottenthathewas
holdingontoher.“She’s
convincedIstoleherfather’s
moneyandmurderedhim.
Buttheinterestingthingis
thatsheofferedmeadeal.”
Juliusfinallynoticedthat
shewasattemptingtowriggle
freeofhisfingers.He
releasedher.“Whatkindof
deal?”
Graceponderedheranswer
whilesheopenedtherear
doorofthecompactandtook
outasackofgroceries.“She
wantsthemoneysobadlyshe
offeredtogivemeafinder’s
feeifIreturnit.Noquestions
asked.Shepromisedshe
wouldn’tpressembezzlement
charges.”
Juliustookthegroceries
fromher,holdingtheheavy
sackeasilyinonearm.
“Didshesayanything
else?”heasked.
“Sheseemstothinkthat
myalibiforthenightof
Sprague’smurderisweak.
Sheremindedmethatmy
printsareatthesceneofthe
crime.”
“Butallshecaresaboutis
gettingherhandsonthe
money?”
“It’sallshehasleftofher
father,”Graceexplained.“I
thinkshe’sgrievingtheloss
ofarelationshipshenever
had.Shethinksthemoney
willsomehowcompensate.”
“Doyouknowthesource
ofherissues?”
“Oh,yes.Allofuswho
workedintheofficewere
awarethatNylablamedher
fatherforhermother’s
suicideyearsago.”
Graceopenedthefront
door.Juliusfollowedher
insideandintothekitchen.
“Itfeelschillyinhere,
doesn’tit?”Gracesaid.
Shewenttothethermostat
onthewallandcheckedthe
setting.Thecontrolswereset
totheusualdaytime
temperature.
“Thisisnotgood,”she
said.“Looksliketheremay
beaproblemwiththeheating
system.I’llgivetherepair
companyacallafterlunch.
LuckilyI’vegotthefireplace
forbackup.”
“Tryrebootingthesystem
first,”Juliussaid.
“Oh,yeah,likeIknow
howtorebootanHVAC
system.”
“I’lltakealookatthe
controlsafterlunch.”
Sheglancedathim.
“Thanks.”
“Noguarantees.”
Hesetthegroceriesonthe
kitchentableandtookoffhis
sunglasses.Droppingthe
glassesintothepocketofhis
jacket,hewatchedGrace
removethefree-rangeeggs
andabagoforganically
grownredpeppersfromthe
sack.Shesetthemonthe
counternexttothe
refrigeratorandreturnedto
thetable.
“BacktoNyla
Witherspoon,”hesaid.“Your
theoryisthatsheismore
interestedinthemoneynow
thaninfindingherfather’s
killer?”
“Ithinkthemoneyis
importanttoherfor
emotionalaswellasfinancial
reasons.ButIwouldn’tbe
surprisedifshe’salsobeing
pressuredtogetherhandson
herinheritance.”
“Whatkindofpressure?”
Julius’seyessharpened.“Is
sheindebt?”
“NotthatIknowof,”
Gracesaid.Shereachedinto
thesackandtookoutthe
almonds,sunflowerseedsand
hazelnutssheplannedtouse
forabatchofhomemade
granola.“Gotahunchher
fiancémaybepushingherto
findthemoney.”
“Devmentionedafiancé.”
“HisnameisBurke
Marrick.Spraguedidnot
approveofhim.Kristy,
MillicentandIhadour
doubtsabouthim,too.
MarrickshowedupinNyla’s
lifeafewmonthsagoand
sweptheroffherfeet.Itwas
awhirlwindcourtship.They
gotengagedwithinweeks.
Shethinkshe’sMr.Perfect.”
Juliusgotaknowinglook
inhiseyes.“Butyouand
yourfriendsthinkthat
MarrickwantstomarryNyla
forthetraditionalreason—
hermoney.”
Graceopenedacupboard
andstoredthenutsandseeds
onashelf.“You’renotmuch
ofaromantic,areyou?”
“I’marealist.”
“Whatever.”Grace
removedtheBrusselssprouts
fromthesackandsetthemon
thecounternexttotheother
itemsshewasgoingtostore
intherefrigerator.Shepaused
foramomentandmet
Julius’seyes.“Here’swhatI
think—Nylaisafraidthatif
shelosesthemoney,she’ll
loseMr.Perfect,too.That
possibility,comingonthe
heelsofherfather’smurder,
it’sjusttoomuchforher.
She’sfallingapart—
consumedwithanger,
resentmentandadeepsense
ofloss.Internallyshe’s
probablyacauldronof
seethingemotionsoshe’s
lashingout.”
“Peoplewhoarelashing
outaredangerous,Grace.”
“Iknow.”
Juliuswentsilentfora
moment.Shestudiedhim
covertlywhilesheremoved
thelastitemsfromthe
grocerysack.Shecould
almostseethecomputerin
hisheaddoingitsthing,
processingalotofonesand
zeroes.Arkwrightthe
Alchemistwascalculating;
probablyworkingona
strategy.Shewasn’tsurethat
wasagoodthing.True,she
hadinvitedhimintoherlife
withthebreakfastpicnic
bribebutsheknewthatshe
hadtotreadcautiously.Men
likeJuliustendedtotake
chargeinahurry.Itwastheir
nature.
Outofnowhere,oneofthe
Witherspoonaffirmations
brightenedwiththeintensity
ofahalogenbulbinhermind.
Embracetheunknown.Itis
theonlycertainty.
“Whatareyouthinking?”
sheasked.
“Aboutthemissing
Witherspoonmoney.”Julius
lookedoutthewindowatthe
graysurfaceofthelakeasif
itwereadiviningmirrorthat
reflectedanswers.“Itseems
tobeoneofthekeysto
whateverisgoingonhere.
You’retheexpertonpithy
sayings.I’llbetyouknowthe
onethatappliesinthis
instance.”
“Followthemoney?”
“That’soneaffirmationI
dobelievein,”hesaid.He
methereyes.“Itneverlets
medown.”
“I’msurethecopsbelieve
init,too,”Gracesaid.“They
probablywatchtelevision,
justliketherestofus.”
“Theymaybelookinginto
themoneyanglebutitwon’t
hurttohavesomeonefrom
oursidetakealookaswell.”
Shestilled.“Someonefrom
ourside?”
Hisbrowsrose.Hiseyes
glitteredwithdark
amusement.“Ifthere’sone
thingArkwrightVenturescan
providehere,it’sfinancial
expertise.Therearepeopleon
mystaffwhoarevery,very
goodatfollowingthe
money.”
“Isee,”shesaid.Shewas
notcertainwheretogowith
that.
“Now,aboutlunchand
yourbusinessplan,”hesaid.
“Whoa.”Graceheldupa
hand,palmout.“Stop.Justa
second,here.Ineedtothink
aboutyouroffer.”
Juliussomehowmanaged
tolookbewilderedand
possiblyabithurt.“You
don’twantmetolookinto
themoneyangle?”
“It’snotthat.”Shepaused,
tryingtocomeupwitha
reasonableexplanationfor
herobjections.Thereality
wasthatherimpulsive
reactionhadbeenemotional,
notlogical.
“Whatistheproblem?”
Juliusasked.
Itwasareasonable
question.
“Iknowyoumeanwell
andIappreciateyourgood
intentions,”shesaid
carefully.“ReallyIdo.”
“Thisisn’tamatterof
goodintentions.It’sasimple,
logicalapproachtoa
problem.”Helookedaround
thekitchen.“Whatwereyou
planningforlunch?”
“Forgetlunch,”shesaid,
puttingalittlesteelintothe
words.
Ifhehadappeared
bewilderedandalittlehurta
momentago,hewas
downrightcrushednow.
“Ithoughttherewouldbe
lunch,”hesaid.
“Payattention,Arkwright.
Thisisn’tacorporationI’m
runninghereandnoone
electedyouCEO.Thisismy
life,myfuture.Ifyou’re
goingtodostuffthatimpacts
oneorbothofthosethings,
youneedtodiscussitwith
mefirst.Youdonotjust
waltzintomyhouseand
announcethatyou’regoingto
appointsomeoneI’venever
evenmettoexaminethe
financesofamansome
peoplethinkImayhave
murdered.Itmaybeagood
ideaoritmaynot.Thepoint
is,Ineedtobeinvolvedin
theconversation.Isthat
clear?”
Therewasacharged
silenceinthekitchenwhile
Juliusconsideredher
declarationofindependence.
Thenheevidentlycametoa
conclusion.
“Okay,”hesaid.
Sheeyedhimwithdeep
suspicion.“Okay?That’sit?
Justokay?”
Julius’sexpressionwas
oneofpolitebewilderment.
“Shouldtherebemore?”
“No,Iguessnot.”
“So,”Juliussaid.“Whatdo
youthinkabouthavingoneof
theArkwrightfinancial
wizardstrytotracethe
embezzledWitherspoon
money?”
Sheraisedhereyestothe
ceiling.“Thereareprivacy
issues,forheaven’ssake.Not
tomentionlegalissues.”
“Notaproblem,”Julius
said.
“Ibegyourpardon?”
“Itwon’tbethefirsttime
thatArkwrightVentureshas
offereditsprofessional
expertisetothepoliceforthe
purposesofsomeforensic
accountingwork.I’lltalkto
Dev.He’llcoordinatewith
hiscontactsattheSeattlePD.
He’sworkedwiththem
beforeoncasesthatspilled
overthecitylimits.”
“Isee.”Shethoughtabout
thatforamoment.“Well,
okay,then.”
“Excellent.I’llgetrighton
itafterlunch.”Juliuscleared
histhroat.“Iwouldremind
youthatIdidnotwaltzinto
yourkitchen.Ijustwalkedin.
Carryingthegroceriesfor
you.”
“Whatever.”Shepushed
herselfawayfromthe
counter.“Allright,wehave
anunderstanding.Newday,
newopportunitiestoshape
thefuture.”
“Isthatoneofthe
Witherspoonaffirmations?”
“Yes,itis,asamatterof
fact.Itaccompaniedthe
recipeforgranolainthe
WitherspoonWay
cookbook.”Shepaused,
tryingtodecidewhattodo
next.Juliuswasstandingin
themiddleofherkitchenand
showingnosignsofgoing
anywhere.Sheneededtodo
somethingwithhim.“Where
werewe?”
“Lunch,”hesaid,looking
hopeful.
“Right.Lunch.”She
headedtowardthe
refrigerator,gratefulfor
somethingconcretetodo.
“Andthenmycareerplan.”
“We’llstartbymakinga
detailedlistofyourskillset.
ButfirstIhaveanother,offtopicquestionforyou.”
“What’sthat?”sheasked.
Shereachedforthehandleof
therefrigeratordoor.
“Ineedadatefor
tomorrownight,”Juliussaid.
Hedidnottakehiseyesoff
her.“Ihavetoattendthat
thoroughlyboringbusiness
dinnerandcharityauction
thatImentionedtoyou.Ialso
havetodeliverthethoroughly
boringafter-dinnertalkonthe
thoroughlyboringsubjectof
thePacificNorthwest
investmentclimate.Would
youconsidergoingwithme
sothatIdon’thavetositat
theheadtablealone?You
mightbeabletokeepme
fromdozingoff.”
Sheopenedthe
refrigerator,tryingtoprocess
theinvitation.
Allrationalthought
winkedoutofexistencewhen
shesawthethingssittingon
thecentershelf.
Forafewsecondsshejust
stoodthere.Hermindrefused
toaccepttherealityofwhat
shewasseeing.Ithadtobea
hallucination.
Butitwasnotadream.
Shescreamed,droppedthe
cartonofeggsandslammed
thedoorclosed.
“NotexactlytheresponseI
washopingfor,”Juliussaid.
Hewasathersideinthe
blinkofaneye.Heopened
therefrigeratordoor.
Togethertheybothlookedat
thedeadratlyingonthe
servingplatter.Itwas
surroundedbysprigsof
parsley.Therewasasliceof
lemoninitsmouth.Nextto
theplatterstoodanunopened
bottleofvodka.
“Thatsettlesit,”Julius
said.“Someonereallyis
stalkingyou.”
Thirteen
A
tleastitwasn’t
cooked,”Grace
said.She
shuddered.“Although
whoeverputitinmy
refrigeratorwenttothe
troubleofmakingthatpoor
ratlooklikeitwasreadyto
servefordinner.”
Devlinlookedupfromhis
notebook.“Poorrat?”
“I’mnomorefondofrats
thananyoneelse,”Grace
said.“Butit’sreallybad
karmatokillaninnocent
creaturejustsothatitcanbe
usedtostagesomekindof
sickrevengefantasy.”
“Somethingtellsme
whoeverleftthatthingin
yourrefrigeratorisnotoverly
concernedwithkarma,”
Juliussaid.
Thethreeofthemwerein
thekitchen.Juliushadcalled
Devlinimmediatelyafterthe
discoveryofthedeadrat.
Devlinandoneofhis
officers,asympathetic,
competentwomannamed
LindaBrown,haddonethe
usualcopworkup,including
photographsoftheratandthe
bottleofvodka,butitwas
clearnooneexpectedtofind
anyclues.
AsOfficerBrownhad
pointedout,eveniftheperp
hadn’thadthepresenceof
mindtothinkabout
fingerprints,mostpeople
possessedenoughcommon
sensetouseglovestohandle
adeadrat.Shehadtakenthe
vodka,therat,theplatterand
theculinarytrimmingsaway
inevidencebags.
Watchingtheprocessfrom
thefarsideofthekitchen,
Gracehaddecidedtocross
offacareerinlaw
enforcement.Handlingdead
ratswasprobablyoneofthe
lessunpleasantjobsapolice
officerconfronted.
Shewasnowseatedina
chairatthekitchentable,her
handsfoldedtightlyinher
lap.Shewasunnerved.She
couldthinkofnootherword
todescribetheshaky,edgy
sensationthatsenticychills
throughheratintermittent
intervals.
Breathe.
Therefrigeratorwould
havetobecleanedand
disinfectedfromtopto
bottom,shedecided.Allthe
foodinsidewouldhavetobe
tossedout.Shecouldn’tbear
thethoughtofeatinganything
thathadsharedthesame
spacewiththedeadrat.
No,sheconcluded,simply
sanitizingtherefrigerator
wouldnotbeenough.It
wouldhavetobereplaced.
Shewonderedhowmuchnew
refrigeratorscost.
Andthentherewasthe
issueofthebrokenwindowin
theguestbedroom.Therehad
beennothinghigh-techabout
theintruder’stechnique.
Whoeveritwashadsimply
smashedtheglassand
climbedthroughtheopening.
Thatexplainedwhythehouse
hadfeltsochillywhenshe
andJuliuswalkedin,Grace
thought.
Juliushadtoldherthathe
wouldpickupsomeplywood
atthehardwarestoreand
covertheopening.Ralph
Johnsonattheglassshophad
assuredherhecouldhavea
replacementreadythe
followingday.
Buyinganewrefrigerator
andreplacingthewindow
wouldputaseriousdentin
hersavingsbuttherewasno
otheroption.Shehaddrawn
thestalkerintohermother’s
house.Shehadcausedthis
mess.Shewouldcleanitup.
Devlinstoodinthecenter
oftheroom,legsbraced
slightlyapart,andcontinued
makingnotes.
“Earliertodaywhenwe
discussedtheemails,youtold
methatthestalkinghasbeen
goingonsincethedaythat
Witherspoonwasfound
murdered,right?”hesaid.
“Theemailsstartedthat
nightbutIhadn’treally
considereditstalkinguntil
today,”Gracesaid.She
wrappedherarmsaround
herself.“Untilnowit’sjust
beentheemails.AsI
explained,theywerenot
actuallythreatening.Ithought
perhapsSprague
Witherspoon’sdaughterwas
sendingthem.ButIhonestly
can’tseeherdealingwitha
deadrat.”
Julius,whowaslounging
againstacounter,armsfolded
acrosshischest,shookhis
head.Hedidn’tactuallysay
anythingbut,then,hedidn’t
havetosayanything,she
thought.Shewasprettysure
sheknewwhathewas
thinking.Andmaybehehad
cause.Maybeshehadbeena
littlenaive.
“Juliusisright,this
incidentofficiallymakesit
stalking,”Devlinsaidinhis
flatcopvoice.“Tellmeabout
yourrelationshipwith
Witherspoon’sdaughter.”
Gracewentthroughit
again,eventhoughshehad
givenhimmostofitthat
morning.
“That’sallIcantellyou,”
shesaidwhenshewas
finished.“Sheshowedupat
mydoortoday,demanding
thatIgiveherthemoneyshe
thinksIembezzledfromthe
WitherspoonWay.She
accusedmeofscammingher
fatherandmurderinghim.
SheofferedtokeepquietifI
returnedthemoney.Sheleft
whenJuliusarrived.Next
thingIknowthere’sadead
ratinmyrefrigerator.”
“Andthebottleofvodka,”
Juliusremindedherquietly.
Hermouthtightened.“Yes.
And,yes,beforeyouask,
Devlin,it’sthesamebrandof
vodkathatIfoundin
Sprague’sbedroom.”
Devlinwatchedherfora
longmoment.“What’swith
thevodka?”
“Idon’tknow,”Gracesaid.
“Buttherewasaliquorbottle
inthebasementoftheold
asylumthedayIfoundMrs.
Trager’sbody.Iremember
thatitwasabottleofvodka.I
didn’tnoticethebrandbutI
thinkthelabelwasgreenand
goldlikethelabelonthe
bottleinSprague’sbedroom
andtheonethatwasleftin
myrefrigerator.Thatday,
whenIfoundMrs.Tragerand
Mark,Iusedthebottleto—”
Shebrokeoff.Noonetried
tofillinthemissingblanks.
Devlinfrowned.“You
meanyoufoundthebottlein
thebasementoftheCloud
LakeInn,don’tyou?”
“IreneandIandeveryone
elsebackthenusually
referredtotheplaceasthe
asylum,”shesaid.“Itwasa
hospitalforthementallyillat
onetime.”
“Youstumbledontothat
murderwhenyouwerein
yourteens,accordingto
Irene,”Devlinsaid.
“Iwassixteen,”Grace
said.
Anotherbadnightcoming
up,shethought.Noescaping
thisone.Mightaswellnot
evengotobed.Crap.
“Accordingtothefile,
Tragerhadgonehomefor
lunchthatday.”Devlin
glanceddownathisnotes.
“Therewasevidentlyan
argument.Tragermurdered
hiswifesometimearound
noon.Theboywasawitness.
Thekidtoldthepolicethat
Tragerwrappedupthebody
beforeloadingitintohis
truck.Heneededtohideit
untilhecoulddisposeofit.
Andthentherewasthe
problemoftheboy.Trager
transportedthebodyand
Marktotheinn—theasylum
—andleftbothinthe
basement.Hedidn’tdare
dumpthebodiesuntilafter
dark.”
“Meanwhile,hehadtogo
backtowork,”Gracesaid.
“Hewouldhaveneededa
boattotakethebodiesout
ontothelake,”Juliussaid.
Devlinlookedupagain.
“Tragerownedasmall
outboardthatheusedfor
fishing.Hehadstoreditinhis
garageforthewinter.He
probablyplannedtogetit
afterdarkandhaulitdownto
thelake.Hecouldhaveputit
intothewaterattheasylum.
There’sanolddockthere.”
“Buthegotnervous
waitingfornightfall,”Grace
said.
“It’sacommonproblem
forkillers,”Devlinexplained.
“Lotoftruthinthatold
sayingaboutthebadguys
returningtothesceneofthe
crime.Theycan’thelp
themselves.”
Juliusnodded.“Theygo
backtomakesurethey
haven’tmadeanymistakes.”
“InthiscaseTrager
returnedtothesceneofthe
crimethatafternoonand
foundGraceandtheboy,”
Devlinsaid.
“MarkRamshaw,”Grace
said.Shesqueezedherhands
tighterinherlap.“Mrs.
Tragersometimeslooked
afterhimwhilehismother
worked.Mr.Tragerwouldn’t
allowhiswifetogooutofthe
housetoworkbuthelether
makealittlemoneywatching
theRamshawboy.Markwas
justsixyearsold.”
“WhydidTragerleavethe
kidaliveinthebasement?”
Juliusasked.
“PresumablyTragerdidn’t
murderMarkrightaway
becausehewantedtheboy’s
deathtolooklikean
accident,”Devlinsaid.“Ifhe
hadstrangledthekidor
crushedtheboy’sskull,the
autopsywouldhaveshown
resultsnotconsistentwith
deathbydrowning.”
“Howdidheplanto
explainMrs.Trager’sdeath?”
Juliusasked.
“Theinvestigators
concludedthat,giventhe
vodkaandthemedsatthe
scene,Tragerintendedto
makeitappearthathiswife
wasasuicide.Shedowned
somepillsandalotofbooze
andtookthefamilyboatout
onthelakeandwent
overboard.Ithappens.”
“Whatabouttheinjuries
fromthebeatinghegaveher
thatday?”Juliusasked.
Devlinshrugged.“I’m
guessinghere,butI’veheard
morethanonebastardtellme
withastraightfacethathis
wifegotbangedupwhenshe
felldownaflightofstairs.”
Gracelookedathim.“You
didsomeresearchintothe
Tragercase,didn’tyou?”
“Rightafterthe
Witherspoonmurder,”Devlin
said.Hedidnotsound
apologetic.“Sorry,Grace.
You’reIrene’sbestfriend.I
hadtolookintoyourpast.”
Gracesighed.“I
understand.”
Juliusmovedtostand
behindherchair.Herested
onehandlightlyonher
shoulder.Itfeltgoodtohave
himtouchingher,she
thought;comforting.
Devlinwentbacktohis
notes.“Tragerconfrontedyou
whenyoutriedtoescapewith
theboy.Therewasastruggle.
Tragerfelldownthe
basementstepsandbrokehis
neck.YouandlittleMarkran
forhelp.Yourmomandsister
weren’thomethatdaysoyou
wenttoAgnesGilroy’shouse
forhelp.Shetookyouinand
calledthepolice.According
toherstatement,therewasa
lotofbloodonyourclothes.
Atfirstshethoughtitwas
yours.”
“ItwasTrager’sblood.”
Gracelookeddownather
claspedhands.“Iusedthe
vodkabottle,yousee.WhenI
triedtofollowMarkupthe
basementsteps,Tragercame
afterme.Hegrabbedtheback
ofmyjacket.Ismashedthe
bottleontherailing,turned
and...andslashedathim
withthejaggededgesof
glass.Therewas...alotof
blood.”
Julius’shandtightenedon
hershoulder.Shefellsilent.
Foramomentnoonespoke.
Itwoulddefinitelybea
verybadnight.
JuliusstudiedDevlin.“I
wanttotalktoyoubeforeyou
contacttheSeattlepolice.
ArkwrightVentureswould
liketoofferitsforensic
accountingservicestothe
authorities.”
Devlinconsideredthat
brieflyandthennodded.“Tell
mewhatyouwanttodo.I’ll
clearitwithSeattle.”He
turnedbacktoGrace.Forthe
firsttimethemaskofhis
professionaldemeanor
slipped.“Damnit,Grace.I’m
sorrytohavetotakeyou
throughitallagain.Butwe
needtofigureoutwhatthe
hellisgoingonhere.Your
bosswasmurdered.Someone
isstalkingyou.There’salot
ofmoneymissing.Thisisa
bigpuzzleandnoneofthe
piecesfittogether.”
Shenoddedwearily.“I
know.It’sokay.Youneed
information.”
Foramomentnoone
spoke.
“Gotanyideas?”Devlin
askedeventually.“Icoulduse
someguidancehere.”
Gracelookedatthe
refrigerator.Adarktideof
revulsionroseinsideher.She
lookedaway.
“Asfarastheratis
concerned,IsupposeNylais
theobvioussuspect,”she
said.“ButasItoldyou,I
can’timagineherhandlinga
deadanimalofanykind,let
alonearat.Butthen,Ihavea
hardtimeimagininganyone
deliberatelyputtingadeadrat
onaplatterandstickingit
insidearefrigerator.”She
paused.“Well,maybeinalab
setting.Alotofratsareused
inscientificexperiments.”
“Thatwasnolabrat,”
Juliussaid.“Thatonecame
straightoutofanalley.”
Gracelookedupathim.
“Guessthatmeanswecan
crossoffanyscientistsorlab
techsonthesuspectlist.
Unfortunately,thereweren’t
anythereinthefirstplace.”
“Plentyofsuspectslefton
thatlist,”Juliussaidquietly.
“Toomany.”Devlinclosed
hisnotebook.“I’mgoingto
calltheSeattlepoliceandtalk
totheinvestigatorincharge
ofyourcase.Maybeifwe
comparenoteswecansort
outsomeofthepeople
involvedinthisthing.”
“Thanks,”Gracesaid.She
triedhardtoprojectsome
positiveenergyand
enthusiasmbutjudgingbythe
lookonthefacesofthetwo
menshedidn’tthinkshewas
succeeding.
“Youneverknow.”Devlin
stuffedthenotebookback
intohisjacket.“Whatareyou
goingtodonow?”
Shegazeddolefullyatthe
offendingappliance.“Throw
outallthefoodinthe
refrigeratorandthengoshop
foranewone.”
Devlineyedthe
refrigerator.“Thisonelooks
almostnew.”
“Momboughtitlessthana
yearago,”Gracesaid.“It’s
probablystillunderwarranty.
ButIcouldneveragaineat
anythingthatcameoutofthat
refrigerator.”
“Iunderstandthatyou
wanttocleanitout,”Devlin
said.“Butthere’snothing
wrongwiththeappliance.”
JuliussqueezedGrace’s
shoulder.“I’llhelpyoudump
thefood.Whenwe’re
finishedwe’llshopforanew
one.”
Fourteen
J
uliusstudiedtheranks
ofgleamingappliances
arrayedonthesales
floor.Itwasabitlikewalking
intoanarmsdealer’s
showroom.Allthepolished
hardsurfaceremindedhimof
somuchhigh-techmilitary
armor.
“Whoknewtherewereso
manydifferentkindsof
refrigerators?”hesaid.
Forthefirsttimesincethe
discoveryofthedeadratand
thevodkabottle,Grace
lookedwanlyamused.He
wassurprisedbythewaveof
reliefthatwhisperedthrough
himwhenshesmiled.
Watchingherstoically
respondtoDev’s
interrogationhadbeenoneof
theharderthingshe’ddonein
hislife.Hehadwantedto
carryherawaytosomeplace
safewherenoonecouldask
heranymorequestions;a
placewhereshecouldforget
thepast.Hewasstilldealing
withthementalimageofher
asateenagercoveredinthe
bloodofthemanwhohad
triedtomurderher.
“Itakeityouhaven’tdone
thiskindofshopping
before?”Graceasked.
“No,”headmitted.“The
interiordesignerselectedthe
appliancesformycondoin
Seattle.ThehouseIbought
fromHarleycamewithallthe
stuffIneeded,includingthe
refrigerator.”
Shoppingforarefrigerator
nowtoppedhislistofMost
UnusualSecondDates,he
decided.
“Youdidn’thavetocome
withme,”Gracesaid.“It
wasn’tnecessary,really.”
“Yeah,itwas,”hesaid.He
watchedthesalesman
approach.“ButIadmitI’m
outofmydepthhere.Doyou
haveanyideaofwhatyou
wantinarefrigerator?”
“We’lljustaskforthe
latestversionofthesame
modelthatMombought.”
Gracedrewadeepbreath.
“Althoughit’sgoingtoputa
verybigholeinmybank
account.”
Hethoughtaboutoffering
tobuytherefrigeratorforher
buthekepthismouthshut.
Heknewshewouldrefuse.
Gracegavehimasidelong
glance.“Thanks.”
“Forwhat?”
“ForunderstandingwhyI
havetoreplacethe
refrigerator.”
“Igetit,”hesaid.
Noamountofscrubbingor
disinfectantwouldremove
thememoryofthedeadrat.
“Iknowyougetit,”she
said.“Iappreciatethat.”
“Doesn’tmeanyoucan’t
selltheoldone,though.You
couldprobablyrecoverafew
hundredbucks.”
Shesmiledagain.“Good
point.I’llhaveitmovedout
ontothebackporchuntilI
cansellit.”
“Idoubtifthisstoreis
goingtobeabletodeliver
yournewrefrigeratortoday,”
Juliussaid.“It’snearlyfive
now.Whatdoyousaywego
outtodinner?”
Shehesitated.“Thanks,but
Ireallydon’tfeellikegoing
out.I’lljustgrabsome
takeoutonthewayhome.”
“Takeoutsoundsgood,”he
said.
Sheeyedhim.“Didyou
justinviteyourselfoverfor
dinner?”
“Inevergotlunch,
remember?”
“Inevergotmyfirst
consultingappointment.”
“You’renotgoingtowant
tobealonethisevening,not
afterwhathappenedtoday,”
hesaid.“DoyoumindifI
joinyoufortakeout?”
“I’mprettymuch
vegetarian,”shewarned.
“I’msureI’llsurvive.”
Shegavethatamoment’s
closethoughtandthen
noddedonce.“Okay.Thanks.
It’sverykindofyoutooffer
tokeepmecompany.”
“I’mnotknownformy
kindness.”
“Whatareyouknown
for?”
Juliuswatchedthe
salesmanstarttocircle.
“Makingmoney.”
“That’saverycoolgift,”
Gracesaid.Hereyeswarmed
withamusementagain.“Most
peoplewouldgiveanything
topossessit.”
Thesalesmanwasclosing
innow.
“Look,”Juliussaid,“I’m
goodatinvestingbutwhatI
knowaboutbuying
refrigeratorswouldn’teven
fillasmallshotglass.”
“Don’tworry,”Gracesaid.
Shemovedforwardto
interceptthesalesman.“I’ve
gotthis.”
Fifteen
T
heywerebackin
Grace’skitchenby
six-thirty.The
salesmanhadpromisedto
expeditethedeliveryofthe
newrefrigerator.Julius
occupiedhimselfwith
openingthebottleof
ColumbiaValleySyrahthat
hehadselectedwhileGrace
wasmakinghertakeout
selectionsatthegourmet
grocerystoreintown.
Thelittledomesticscenein
thekitchenwouldhavebeen
verycomfortableandcozy,
heconcluded,ifnotforthe
edgyheatofthesmoldering
arousalthatkepthimrestless
andsemi-erect.Itwasasifhe
waswalkingatightrope
withoutanet.Don’tscrew
thisupagain,Arkwright.
Hewasoldenoughand
sufficientlyexperiencedtobe
abletocontrolthesexualside
ofthesituation.Butwhathe
wasfeelingaroundGracewas
differentinwayshecouldnot
explain.Hewasn’tsurewhat
todoaboutthesensationbut
hedidknowonething—he
wantedtostayasclosetoher
aspossibleuntilhefigured
outwhatthehellwasgoing
onbetweenthetwoofthem.
Hepouredthewineinto
twoglassesandturned
aroundjustintimetosee
Gracebendovertoclosethe
ovendoor.Shewasstill
wearingthejeansandthe
deepblue,loose-fitting
pullovershe’dhadonthat
morning.Hetookamoment
toadmirethewaythedenim
huggedhernicelyrounded
rear.
Sheclosedthedoorand
straightened,usingonehand
topushherwhiskey-brown
hairbackbehindherear.He
knewfromthefainttiltofher
eyebrowsthatshe’dcaught
himwatchingher.
“What?”sheasked.
“Nothing.”Hehandedher
oneoftheglasses.“Hereyou
go.Medicinalpurposesonly.”
“Definitely,”shesaid.She
tookahealthyswallowof
wineanddroppedintooneof
thewoodenchairs.“Thanks.I
neededthat.”
Juliusloweredhimselfinto
thechairacrossfromher.
“Youliveaneventfullife,
MissElland.”
“Iwilladmitthatlatelymy
lifehasbeensomewhatoutof
theordinary.”Shedrank
somemorewine.
“NoWitherspoon
affirmationforthecurrent
stateofaffairs?”
Shereflectedbrieflyand
thenshookherhead.“No,but
I’msureonewillcometo
me.”
“So,inspiteofallthat
power-of-positive-thinking
stuffandthoseWitherspoon
affirmations,youdoseea
rolefortheoccasionaldoseof
reality?”
“Hell,yes.”
“Goodtoknow.”He
salutedherwiththe
wineglass.“What’sfor
dinner?”
“Tofusatayandseaweed
salad.”Sheleanedbackinher
chair,stretchedoutherlegs
andclosedhereyes.“I’llbet
you’reexcitedaboutthe
menu,aren’tyou?”
“Myfavorites,”heassured
her.
Sheopenedhereyes,
amused.“Ididwarnyou.”
“Idon’thaveanyproblem
withthemenu.Butwhatwith
onethingandanother,Idon’t
believeyouevergotaround
toansweringmyquestionthis
afternoon.”
Hewaitedtoseeifshe
wouldpretendtohave
forgotten.ButthiswasGrace,
whowasprobablytoohonest
forherowngood.
“Doyoureallyneedadate
fortomorrownight?”she
asked.
Hemovedonehand
slightly.“Icanhandleiton
myown.Wouldn’tbethe
firsttime.ButI’dratherhave
yousittingatmysideatthe
headtable.Ihatemaking
conversationatthosekindsof
events.Nooneeverhas
anythinginterestingtosay,
includingme.Notthatyou
couldhaveameaningful
conversationwithtenpeople
sittingatatableunderthose
circumstances.Andthen
thereistheentertainmentfor
theevening,courtesyofyours
truly,whowilldeliverwhatis
knownfarandwideasthe
SpeechfromHell.”
Graceeruptedinlaughter.
Thewinesloshed
precariouslyinherglass.
“Areyoucertainitwillbe
thatbad?”sheaskedwhen
shegotthelaughterunder
control.
“Myafter-dinnertalk?I
knowitwillbebad.”
Shesearchedhisface.
“Howcanyoubesosure?”
“BecauseIamnotwithout
experience.”
Gracewatchedhim
thoughtfullynow.“Thisisa
talkyou’vegivenbefore?”
“I’vegivenvariationsofit
somanytimesduringthepast
fewyears,I’velostcount.I
getaskedtospeaktoinvestor
groups,businessassociations
andtheoccasionalMBA
class.Ihavenoideawhy
anyoneinvitesmebacka
secondtime.Publicspeaking
isnotmyforte,believeme.”
Sheputdownherglassand
foldedherarmsonthetable.
“Let’shearit.”
“What?”
“Yourspeech.Givemethe
talkthatyouplantodeliver
tomorrowevening.”
Herealizedshewas
serious.
“Forgetit,”hesaid.
“DeliveringtheSpeechfrom
HellistheverylastthingI
wanttodotonight.”
“Here’sthedealI’m
willingtomake,Arkwright.
Ifyouwantmetoattendthat
businessandcharityaffair
withyoutomorrownight,I
insistthatyoupreviewyour
after-dinnertalkformenow.”
Hewatchedherclosely,
tryingtodecidewhetheror
notshewasjoking.Butthere
wasnoamusementinher
eyes.
“Whydoyouwanttohear
theSFH?”heasked.
“Plainoldcuriosity,I
guess.”
Hethoughtaboutit.“I’ll
letyoureadit,willthatdo?
I’vegottwentybuckssays
youwon’tbeabletomakeit
morethanhalfwaythrough.”
“Twentybucks?”She
grinned.“AndhereIthought
youwereabig-timeplayer.”
“Twentybucks—twenty
thousandbucks.”He
shrugged.“Whatdifference
doesitmake?”
“Youreallyareboredwith
thesubjectofmoney,aren’t
you?Butyou’reright.A
wagerisawager.AndsinceI
can’tputuptwentygrand,I’ll
gowiththetwentybucks.
Where’stheSFH?”
“Istoreitonline.Ifyou
reallywanttodothis,Ican
pullituponyourcomputer.”
“Ireallywanttodothis,”
shesaid.
Hegroaned.“Fine.Itwon’t
takelongforyoureyesto
glazeover.Fireupyour
laptop.Andgetreadytopay
metwentydollars.NoIOUs,
bytheway.Cashonly.”
“Understood.”
Shegotupfromthetable
anddisappearedintothefront
room.Whenshereturnedshe
hadherlaptopaswellasa
notepadandapen.Shesetthe
computerdownonthetable
infrontofhim.
Reluctantlyhewentonline
anddownloadedtheSpeech
fromHell.Withoutawordhe
turnedthecomputeraround
sothatshecouldseethe
document.
Shewhistled.“Lotofdata
here.”
“It’sabusinesstalk,
remember?”
Shestartedreadingwithan
alarmingdegreeof
concentration.
“It’snottheGreat
AmericanNovel,”hewarned.
“ThereisnoGreat
AmericanNovel,”shesaid
absently.“Thisnationistoo
bigandtoodiverseto
produceonlyonegreatbook.
We’vegotlotsofthemand
therewillbemorewrittenin
thefuture.Artdoesn’tstand
still.”
Hedecidedtherewasno
goodresponsetothatsohe
pouredhimselfanotherglass
ofwineandsatbacktoawait
thesettlingofthewager.
Atsomepointinthe
processGracereachedforher
notepadandpen.Asenseof
doomsettledonhim.Just
howbadwastheSpeechfrom
Hell?Onthebrightside,she
wouldbegoingtothe
receptionwithhim.Cheered
atthethought,helounged
deeperinthechair.He
entertainedhimselfwitha
pleasantlittlefantasythat
involvedGracespendingthe
nightwithhiminhisSeattle
condo.Afterall,theevent
wouldnotbeoveruntilquite
lateanditwouldbeanhour’s
drivebacktoCloudLake.It
onlymadesensetostaythe
nightathisplaceanddrive
backthefollowingmorning.
ThemoreGracereadofthe
SFH,themoreheimmersed
himselfinhisdaydream.He
wasstrategizingwaysto
broachthesubjecttoher
whenshefinallylookedup
fromthescreen.Shereached
forherglassofwine.
“Okay,”shesaid.
“Somewhereinthisspeech
there’saverygoodafterdinnertalk.”
Heraisedhisbrows.
“Thinkso?”
“It’stoolongandloaded
withwaytoomanyfactsand
figures.Thatmightworkfor
aformalbusiness
presentationbutyousaidthis
wasanafter-dinnertalk.”
“So?”
“Youtoldmethatbusiness
decisionsareusuallymadeon
thebasisofemotion.Well,
after-dinnertalksareallabout
emotion.Heck,everyspeech
isaboutemotion.”
Hewentblank.“Emotion.”
“Right.ButIdoseea
threadinherethatwillwork.
Ifwerefocusonthe
emotionaltakeawayburied
belowallthedetails,you’ll
bebrillianttomorrownight.”
“Iknowmylimitations.
I’mbrilliantatmaking
money.Iamnotbrilliantat
givingafter-dinnertalks.”He
glancedathernotepad.
“Whatthehelldoyoumean
aboutanemotional
takeaway?”
“Studiesshowthat
audiencesneverremember
thefactsandfiguresofatalk
—theyrememberthe
emotionsthespeech
generated,”shesaid.“You
can’tinfusetoomany
emotionsintoanafter-dinner
talkaboutthecurrent
businessclimatesowewill
concentrateonone.”
Henarrowedhiseyes.“I
double-dareyoutofinda
singleemotionalelementin
thattalk.”
Shegavehimasmugsmile
andaimedthetipofherpen
atoneofhernotes.“It’sright
here,thereferencetoyour
mentor.”
“Whatmentor?”He
stopped.“Youmeantheguy
whogavememyfirstjob
afterIlefttheMarines?”
“Yousaidthatindividual
gaveyouabreakandtaught
youhowtoreadaspreadsheet
andaprofit-and-loss
statement.”
Juliussmiledslowly,
amusedforthefirsttime
sincethediscussionhad
turnedtothetopicofthe
SpeechfromHell.
“Myfirstemployerwasa
Marine,”hesaid.“Heknew
thatitwasn’teasystartinga
newlifeinaciviliancareer,
especiallyif,likeme,youhad
averylimitedskillset.He
hiredmeashisdriver.I
learnedalotlisteningtohim
talkbusinessinthebackof
thecar.EventuallyIbecame
hisfixer.”
Grace’seyeslitwith
curiosity.“Whatdidyou
fix?”
“Anythingandeverything
thatwasaproblemforhim.
Thejobcoveredalotof
territory.”
Shetappedafingeronthe
tableandgavethesubjecta
moment’sthought.
“Ithinkwe’llchangethat
jobtitleforthistalk,”she
said.“Fixersoundsabit
shady.Mobbossesandsleazy
governmentofficialshave
fixers.”
Hestudiedherovertherim
ofhisglass.“Gotabetter
wordforfixer?”
“Executiveadministrative
assistantworks.Likefixer,it
coversalotofterritory.”She
smiledalittle,satisfied.“Out
ofcuriosity,howdidyou
applyforthatfirstjob?”
“Isentmyrésumétothe
HRdepartmentofthe
company.Gotnoresponse.
SoIwenttothepresident’s
officeandsatthereallday,
everyday,foraweekuntilhe
gottiredofwalkingpastme
andagreedtogivemean
interview.”
Graceglowedwith
approval.
“That’sit,”shesaid.Her
eyeswerebrightwith
enthusiasm.“That’syour
story.Iloveit.You’regoing
toinspireeveryoneinyour
audience.”
“Iam?”
“You’regoingtotellthem
tolookaroundandfindat
leastonepersonwhowon’t
beabletogetafootinthe
doorthetraditionalwayand
helpthatindividualdowhat
yourmentordid—openthe
dooralittlewider.”
Anicychillshotdownhis
spine.“Youwantmetogive
amotivationaltalk?”
“Youcanthinkofitthat
way.”
“Youareoutofyour
mind,”hesaid,enunciating
eachwordwithgreat
precision.“Theaudience
tomorrownightwillbe
composedofbusinesspeople
andtheirsignificantothers.It
isnot,Irepeat,nota
motivationalseminar.”
“Anaudienceisan
audience.You’regoingforan
emotionalhit.Yourjobisto
makepeopleleavefeeling
goodaboutthemselves.You
wantthemtobeinspiredby
theirbetterangels.”
“Ifyougatheredupallthe
betterangelsintheaudience
tomorrownight,you
wouldn’thavetoworryabout
howmanyofthemcould
danceontheheadofapin
becauseyouwouldn’thavea
singledancingangel.Trust
meonthis.”
“Idisagree,”Gracesaid.
“I’msuretherewillbea
sprinklingofself-absorbed
narcissistsinthecrowd.And
statisticallyspeakingthere
willbeafewsociopaths—
hopefullythenonviolenttype.
ButIthinkmostwillbefolks
whoatleastwanttothinkof
themselvesasgoodpeople.
Yourjobistoremindthemto
heedthecalloftheirbetter
natures.”
“Sothattheycanfeelgood
aboutthemselves?”
“No,becauseit’samatter
ofpersonalhonorforeach
individualinthatcrowd.
Yourjobistoremindthemof
thatfact.”
“We’retalkingabout
businesspeople,Grace.All
theycareaboutisthebottom
line.”
“Iunderstandthat’s
importanttothem.”Grace
assumedapatientair.“And
thereisnothingwrongwith
makingmoney.You
evidentlydothatratherwell.
ButIalsoknowthathonor
matterstoyou.Itwillmatter
toalotofthoseinyour
audience.Ifnothingelseyou
canremindthemthatthey
haveagoldenopportunityto
leavealegacy.Thatlegacy
willbeintheformofthe
peopletheymentoredalong
theway.”
“Whatmakesyouthink
thatIcareallthatmuchabout
honor?”
Shesmiled.“You’rea
Marine.Everyoneknows
therearenoex-Marines.”
Hecouldnotthinkofa
responsetothatsohelooked
atthenotepad.“You’reliving
infantasyland.Iwouldn’t
evenknowwheretobeginto
writeatalkliketheone
you’resuggesting.”
“We’llstartwithyourown
personalstory.Tellthemhow
yougotthatfirstjobwiththe
manwhobecameyour
mentor.Trustmeonthis.I
helpedSpraguewritehis
motivationaltalks.Iknow
whatI’mdoinghere.I
guaranteeyouthatyou’ll
havetheaudienceeatingout
ofthepalmofyourhand.”
“SoIgivethemafeelgoodstory,”hesaid.“How
thehelldoIendit?”
“ThinklikeaMarine.Give
youraudienceamissionand
sendthemouttofulfillit.
They’llfeelgreatabout
themselvesafteryoufinish,
andthat’sthewholepoint
here.”
Hecontemplatedherin
silenceforamoment.
“Howdidyoulearnabout
Marines?”heaskedfinally.
“MyfatherwasaMarine.”
Shesmiledamistysmile.
“Hewaskilledinahelicopter
crashwhenIwasababy.I
nevergotthechancetoknow
him.ButMomtoldmealot
abouthim.That’showI
knowwhatIknow.”
Juliusconsideredthatfora
while.
“Okay,”hesaid,“I’lltry
thespeechyourway.ButI’m
warningyou,itwillprobably
beanevenbiggerdisaster
thanmyoldSpeechfrom
Hell.I’mnotintothis
motivationalcrap.”
“That’sthespirit.Think
positive.”
“Actually,thereisasilver
lininginthissituation,”he
said.
“What’sthat?”
Hesmiledslowly.“You’ll
betheretowitnessthefiasco.
LaterIwillgettosayItold
youso.Everyonelikestosay
that,right?”
“Thenewversionofyour
speechwillwork.”Shegotto
herfeetandcrossedtheroom
toopentheovendoor.“By
theway,younevertoldme
thenameofyourfirst
employer—themanwho
becameyourmentor.”
“HarleyMontoya.”
“Harley?”Graceturned
aroundquickly,shocked.
“Yournext-doorneighbor?
Themanwhosoldyouthe
househereinCloudLake?”
“ThatHarley.”
Gracesmiled,pleased.
“Thatissortofsweet.”
“Sweetisgenerallynotthe
firstwordthatcomestomind
whenpeopledescribe
Harley.”
Sixteen
T
heyworkedonthe
SpeechfromHell
untilsometimeafter
ninewithabreakalongthe
waytoeatthetofusatayand
seaweedsalad.Juliusdecided
thattofuandseaweedtasted
surprisinglygood,atleastas
longasGracewassittingon
theothersideofthetable.
“Thatshoulddoit,”Grace
said.Shehitsaveonthe
computer.“Youraudience
willloveit.”
Hestudiedthenoteshehad
madeonthenotepad.“Idon’t
knowthatanyonewillloveit,
butitcertainlywon’tbethe
speechthey’llbeexpecting
fromme.”
“There’snothinglikethe
elementofsurprisetowake
upanaudience.”Shegotto
herfeet.“Ineedsome
exercise.Therainhas
stopped.Wanttogofora
walk?”
Helookedoutthewindow.
“It’scoldoutthere.”
“It’snotthatbad.”
“Anddark.”
“Themoonisout,thereare
lampsalongthefootpathand
wecantakeflashlightsfor
backup.”
Amoonlightwalkwith
Gracesuddenlysoundedlike
anexcellentplan,Julius
thought.Itwouldgivehiman
excusetostickaroundalittle
longer,maybecomeupwith
awaytopresenthisgrand
planforstayingthenightin
thecityathisplace.
Hefeltbetteralready.
Maybetherewassomething
tothepositive-thinking
nonsense.
“You’reright,”hesaid.
“Afterallthatspeechwriting,
Icouldusesomeexercise,
too.”
Shebundledherselfupin
thejacketthathewould
alwaysthinkofasherLittle
RedRidingHoodcoat.He
tookhisleatherjacketoffthe
backofthechairandpulledit
on.Togethertheywentout
ontothebackporch.Grace
pausedtolockthedoor.
Thenightairwaswell
chilled.Theywentdownto
thewater’sedge.Hewaited
toseewhichwayshewould
go.Turningrightwasthe
routeintotown.Itendedat
thepublicmarina.Leftwould
takethempasthishouse.
Beyondthat,atthetopofthe
lake,heavilyshroudedin
treesandnight,wastheold
asylum.
Hewasnotsurprisedwhen
Gracechosetowalktoward
thelightsoftown.Hefellinto
stepbesideher.Neitherof
themspokeforawhilebut
thesilencefeltcomfortable,
atleastitdidtohim.Silver
moonlightgleamedonthe
surfaceofthelake.Thelow
footpathlampscreateda
stringoffairylights.Theydid
notneedtheflashlights.
“Thanksforthehelpwith
theSFHtonight,”hesaid
afterawhile.
“You’rewelcome.Bythe
way,youowemetwenty
bucks.”
“Ialwayspaymydebts.”
“Thanksforunderstanding
whyIhadtobuyanew
refrigerator.”Shepaused.
“We’reeven,right?”
“Even?”
“Youknow,afavorfora
favor.”
“Oh,yeah.Gotit.”He
cametoahalt.“Doyouhave
aproblemwithowing
someoneafavor?Orisitjust
me?”
Gracestopped,too.“Not
exactly.Okay.Maybeit’sjust
you.I’mnotsureyet.”
“You’renotmakingthings
anymoreclear.”
“It’sjustthatIdon’twant
youtothinkofmeassome
kindofhobby,”shesaid.
Hetriedtowraphisbrain
aroundthat.Andfailed.
“What?”heasked.
“Youheardme.”She
turnedherheadslightlyto
lookathim.Thehoodofthe
jacketshadowedherface,
makingitimpossibletoread
hereyes.“Ithinkyou’rejust
bored.Idon’twantyoutoget
theideathatinvolving
yourselfinmycurrent
problemswouldbean
interestingwayto...distract
yourself.”
Hestaredather,aslowburningangerheatinghis
blood.
“Thatisthedumbest
reasoningI’veeverheard,”he
rasped.“Nowonderyour
trackrecordwith
relationshipsissobad.”
“Mytrackrecord?”Her
voiceroseinoutrage.
“You’retheonewithafailed
marriagebehindyouandno
visiblesignsofaserious
interestindatingsinceyour
divorce.”
“Whotoldyouthat?”he
demanded.
“Ireneismyfriend,
remember?Itoldherthe
blinddatehadn’tgonewell
butthatIhadhiredyouto
consultforme.Ithinkshe
panicked.ShethoughtIought
toknowalittlemoreabout
you.”
“We’rearealpair,aren’t
we?”Hegrippedher
shoulderswithbothhands.
“Justtoclarify,Iamnot
gettinginvolvedinyour
problemsbecauseI’m
lookingforawaytodistract
myself.”
“No?Why,then?”
“DamnedifIknow.”
Hepulledhercloseand
crushedhermouthbeneath
hisownbeforeshecouldsay
anythingelse.
Hewasn’tlookingfora
distractionbuthewaslooking
forsomething,andsincehe
couldnotputanametoit,he
waswillingtosettleforsex—
aslongasitwassexwith
Grace.
Asfarashewasconcerned
thekisshadbeenwaitingto
happensinceshewalked
throughDevlinandIrene’s
frontdoorthepreviousnight.
ButitseemedtocatchGrace
bysurprise.Shewentstill.
Forthreeofthelongest
secondsofhislifehe
wonderedifhehadmadea
terriblemistakeby
misreadingtheheatinthe
atmospherebetweenthem.
Butonthefourthbeatof
hishearthefeltashuddergo
throughGrace’ssupplebody.
Shebracedherglovedhands
againstthefrontofhisleather
jacket.
Andthenshewaskissing
himback.Itwasatentative
responseatfirst,asifshe
wasn’tsureitwouldbea
goodthingtogodownthis
roadwithhim.Hemovedhis
mouthacrosshers,tryingto
persuadeherthathewas
worththerisk.
Shepressedcloserand
madeasoft,urgentlittle
soundinthebackofher
throat.Inthenextmoment
shewasrespondingwitha
hungry,sexyenergythatsent
lightningthroughhim.
Hemovedhishandsfrom
hershouldersdowntothe
frontofhercoat.Hegotthe
garmentunfastenedand
slippedinside,settlinghis
palmsonthelush,feminine
curveofherhip.Hewas
tight,hard,intenselyaroused
andintenselyawareof
everythingaboutGrace.Her
scentdazzledhim.Hergentle
curvesmadehimdesperateto
touchhermoreintimately.
Nowonderhehadn’tbeen
interestedindatinganyone
elseforsolong.He’dbeen
waitingforthiswoman.He
justhadn’trealizedituntil
now.
Grace’sarmsmovedupto
circlehisneck.Sheleaned
intohimandopenedher
mouthalittle.Hewas
suddenlylostinthesweet,
hot,achingneed.
Themuffledsoundofa
cellphonepingshatteredthe
crystallineatmosphere.Grace
froze.Sodidhe.
“Damnittohell,”hesaid
softly.
Gracepulledawayand
tookasharpbreath.
Theybothlookeddownat
thepocketofherjacket.
SlowlyGracetookouther
phoneandstudiedthescreen.
“AnemailfromSprague
Witherspoon’saccount,”she
whispered.“Nylaisnot
givingupeasily.”
“Assumingthecrazy
emailerisNyla
Witherspoon.”Acoldfury
splashedthroughhim.“What
doesitsaythistime?”
Graceopenedtheemail
andreaditaloudinaflat,
emotionlessvoice.“Savorthe
presentbecauseitisallthat
iscertain.”
“Oneofthosedamned
Witherspoonaffirmations?”
Juliusasked,knowingthe
answer.
“Yes,butthere’smorethis
time.”Therewasafaint
shiverinGrace’swordsnow.
“Thirty-ninehoursand
counting.”
“SoundslikeNyla’s
countingdowntheforty-eight
hoursshegaveyouearlier
today,”Juliussaid.“Letme
seeyourphone.”
Gracehandedittohim
withoutaword.Hestudied
theemail,searchingforany
clueintheformatbuttoall
appearancesithadcomefrom
SpragueWitherspoon.
“Thatsettlesit,”hesaid.
“LookslikeI’llbespending
thenightwithyou.”
“What?”
Theshockinthesingle
wordwasnotparticularly
hearteningbuthetoldhimself
thathehadhandledtougher
negotiations.
“NylaWitherspoon,or
someoneposingasherdead
father,seemstobe
determinedtoscarethehell
outofyou.Idon’tthinkit’sa
goodideaforyoutobealone
—notatnight.”
“Julius,Iappreciatethe
offer,”shesaid,veryearnest
now.“Buttherearesome
thingsyoudon’tknowabout
me.I’mnotasoundsleeper,
especiallywhenI’mstressed.
AndIhaveproblemswith
nightmares,especiallylately.
SometimesIgetupandwalk
aroundthehouseinthe
middleofthenight.People
findit...unsettling.”
“Whatpeople?”
“Look,I’drathernotgo
intothedetails,allright?”
“Sure.Butjustsoyou
know,I’mokaywithyou
walkingaroundthehousein
themiddleofthenight.Ido
that,myself,onoccasion.”
Shestaredathim,
uncomprehending.“Youdo?”
“Yes,”hesaid.“Ido.We’ll
stopbymyplacefirst.Ineed
topickupafewthings.”
Sheheldupafinger.“Just
tobeclear,ifyoustayatmy
house,you’resleepinginthe
guestbedroom.”
“Understood.”
Hewaitedbutshedidnot
seemtoknowwheretogo
afterthatsohetookherarm
andpilotedherbackalongthe
footpath.
Seventeen
T
heywalkedpasther
house,pastAgnes
Gilroy’splaceand
onaroundthelittlecoveto
Julius’shouse.
Juliuswentuptheback
porchstepsandopenedthe
kitchendoor.Heflippedon
thelightsandstoodaside,
waitingforhertoenterfirst.
Shegotanodd,tinglyfeeling
whenshesteppedintohis
kitchen.Adeepsenseof
curiosityinfusedhersenses.
Kitchenswerevery
personal,inheropinion.They
saidalotaboutanindividual.
Thisonehadaretrovibe.The
oldappliances,cupboardsand
tilecountertopshadbeen
caughtinatimewarp.But
everything,fromtheold-
fashionedgasrangeandthe
chrometoastertotheancient
coffeemaker,appearedtobe
clean,ingoodrepairand
readyforaction.
AMarinelivedhere,she
thought,bitingbackasmile.
Electricalcordswereneatly
secured.Canisterswerelined
upagainstthebacksplashin
strictorder—shorttotall.
Eventhesaltshakerandthe
peppermillseemedtobe
standingatattention.She
suspectedthatJulius’soffice
andhiscondoinSeattle
probablyradiatedthesame
senseoforderanddiscipline.
“I’llthrowsomethingsina
bagandgetmyshaving
gear,”Juliussaid.“Waithere.
Thiswon’ttakelong.”
Shewalkedslowlyaround
thekitchen,takinginthefeel
ofthespace.Everything
whisperedJulius’ssecretto
her—hewasamanwhohad
longagolearnedtolive
alone.
Hereappearedatthe
entrancetothekitchen,a
blackleatherduffelinone
hand.
“Ready,”hesaid.
Shelookedathim.“You
reallydon’thavetobabysit
metonight.Imean,it’svery
niceofyouandIappreciateit
but—”
Hecrossedthedistance
betweenthemintwolong
stridesandsilencedherwitha
straight-to-the-point,nononsensekiss.Whenhe
raisedhishead,hiseyeswere
darkandintent.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Idohave
todothis.Thinkofitaspart
oftheconsultingservicesthat
youhiredmetoprovide.”
“That’sastretch.How
manytimeshaveyouspent
thenightwithoneofyour
clients?”
Hesmiledtheslow,
wickedsmilethatmadeher
pulsekickup,butinagood
way.Arkwrightthe
Alchemist.
“Everyjobhasunique
requirements,”hesaid.“Itry
tobeflexibleandadaptable.”
Neitherofthemshouldbe
thinkingaboutsex,shetold
herself.Butsheknewthatthe
subjectwasburninginthe
background,asmolderingfire
thatwouldflashoutof
controlifshewasn’tvery
careful.Toosoon.Toomany
unknowns.
Theywentoutontothe
backporch.Juliuslockedup.
Thebackdoorofthe
neighboringhousebanged
openastheywentdownthe
steps.HarleyMontoya’sbald
headgleamedintheporch
light.Hewaswearingapair
ofkhakipantsandafaded
sweater.Hemovedtothe
edgeoftheporchandgripped
therailing.
“ThoughtIheardsomeone
outhere,”heroared.
“’Evenin’,Grace.Whatare
youtwodoing?Littlelatefor
astrollaroundthelake,isn’t
it?”
“It’snevertoolatefora
walkaroundthelake,”Julius
said.
“Don’tgivemethat
bullshit,”Harleysaid.
“Pardonmylanguage,Grace.
That’saduffelbagyou’re
carryin’,Julius.Youtwoare
fixin’tospendthenight
togetherattheEllandhouse.”
“That’stheplan,”Julius
said.“You’veprobablyheard
bynowthatsomeoneis
stalkingGrace.”
“Yep.”Harleypeeredat
Grace.“Agnestoldmeabout
theratinyourrefrigerator.
Somerealsickpeopleout
there.Butdon’tworry,Julius
willtakegoodcareofyou.”
“Juliusverykindlyoffered
tostaywithmetonightso
thatIwon’thavetobealone
inthehouse,”shesaid.
“It’sgonnabeallover
towntomorrow,youknow,”
Harleywarned.
Graceopenedhermouthto
sayHe’sgoingtosleepinthe
guestbedroom,butthat
soundeddefensivesoshe
decidedtoshutup.Harley
probablywouldn’tbelieveit,
anyway.Tomorrowmorning
nooneintownwouldbelieve
it,either.
“I’mplanningtoputinan
alarmsystemandmaybegeta
dog,”shesaidinstead.
Harleysnorted.“You’llbe
finewithJulius.Inmy
experience,he’saboutas
goodasanalarmsystemand
adog.”
“Thanks,”Juliussaid.“I’ll
treasureyourwordsofhigh
praise.”
“Youdothat,”Harleysaid.
“TakegoodcareofGrace.
Seeyoutomorrow.”
Harleywentbackinside
hishouse.Thedoorbanged
shutbehindhim.
JuliustookGrace’sarm.
Theywalkedthroughthe
gardentothegatethatopened
ontothepath.
Graceglancedaroundat
thelushlandscaping.“Isthis
yourwork?”
“Ofcoursenot,”Julius
said.“Harleytakescareof
mygardenandhisown.”
Theystartedbacktoward
Grace’shouse.
“Harleywasright,”Grace
saidafteramoment.“The
factthatyouspentthenight
atmyplacewillbeallover
CloudLakebynoon
tomorrow.”
“Gotaproblemwiththat?”
Shegaveitsomethought.
“No,Idon’thaveaproblem
withit.I’vegotaproblem
withfindingdeadratsand
bottlesofvodkainmy
refrigerator,andI’vegota
problemwithsomeone
sendingmecreepyemails
but,no,Idon’thavea
problemwithyouspending
thenightinmyspare
bedroom.”
“Ilikeawomanwho
knowshowtokeepher
prioritiesstraight.”
Whentheyreachedher
house,Gracepulledsome
freshlinensoutofacloset.
TogethersheandJuliusmade
upthebedintheguest
bedroom.
EarlierJuliushadtacked
upasheetofplywoodto
covertheopeningleftbythe
smashedpaneofglass.The
secondpanewasstillinplace
sotheroomwasnot
completelyshuttered.Grace
couldseecloudsmoving
acrossthenightsky,
obscuringthemoon.Another
stormwasontheway.
Gettingthebedready
provedtobeanunnervingly
intimateprocess,atleaston
herside.Bythetimeshehad
finishedstuffingthepillow
intothepillowcaseshecould
haveswornthatthe
atmosphereintheroomwas
chargedwithelectricity.
Juliusmadehimselfat
homewiththeeaseofastray
cat—oramanwhowas
accustomedtolivingoutofa
suitcase.Shelookedathim
acrosstheexpanseofthe
freshlymadebed.
“Theguestbathisjust
downthehall,”shesaid,
determinedtoadoptthesame
casualattitudetowardthe
situationthatJuliuswas
exhibiting.“Therearesome
sesameseedcrackersifyou
gethungry.”
“Thanks,”hesaid.
Shewenttowardthedoor.
“I’llsaygoodnight,then.”
Juliusfollowedherasfar
asthedoorway.
“Goodnight,”hesaid.
Shehesitated,awarethat
somethingmoreneededtobe
said.Butshedidnotknow
howtobringupthesubjectof
thehotkissintheicy
moonlight.
Sheturnedawayandwent
downthehall.Shecouldfeel
Julius’seyesonheruntilshe
escapedintotherelative
safetyofherbedroom.
Sheundressed,changed
intohernightgown,robeand
slippersandwentintothe
masterbathtobrushher
teeth.
Whensheemergedashort
timelaterthedoortoJulius’s
roomstoodslightlyopenbut
thelightswereoff.She
waitedamoment.Whenshe
heardnosoundfromthe
guestbedroom,shehurried
throughtheritualofsecuring
thehouse.
Atleastitwasonlya
partialritualthatnight,she
thought.Shedidnothaveto
checktheclosetsorlook
underthebedinJulius’s
room.Somethingtoldherthat
iftherewasamonsterhiding
there,Juliuscoulddealwith
theproblem.
Eventuallysheturnedoff
thelamps.Thenight-lights
thatshehadplaced
strategicallythroughoutthe
housecameup,infusingeach
spacewiththeexceptionof
Julius’sroomwitha
reassuringglow.Juliusmust
haveunpluggedthelittle
night-lightinhisroom.
Shewentbacktoherroom
andsatontheedgeofthebed
forawhile,doingher
breathingexercises.During
themeditationprocess
thoughtsalwaysswirledand
intruded.Thetrickwasto
returnthefocusagainand
againtothebreath.
Whenshewasfinishedshe
crawledunderthecoversand
gazedupattheshadowy
ceilingandbroodedonher
decisiontoallowJuliusto
spendthenightintheguest
bedroom.Onemomentshe
managedtoconvinceherself
thattherewasnoharmin
lettinghimstay;thenext
momentshewasforcedto
concludethatitmightnot
havebeenoneofherbrighter
ideas.Shewasviolatingone
ofherownrules.
Butitwasgoodtoknow
thattonightshewouldnotbe
aloneifthemonstercameout
fromthedarkness.
Intheendsheoptedtogo
withaWitherspoon
affirmation:Meetchallenges
withcreativity.Shehadno
ideawhatthatmeantin
regardtoJuliusbutitsounded
reassuring.
•••
J
uliusstretchedoutonthe
bed,hishandsfolded
behindhishead,and
contemplatedtheceilingof
theguestbedroom.He
thoughtabouthowGracehad
walkedthroughthehouse,not
onlydouble-checkingallthe
locksthathehadsecured
earlier,butopeningand
closingcupboardsand
closets.Itallsounded
methodical,asifitwerea
nightlyroutine.
Somepeoplemighthave
consideredthedetailed
securitycheckatadobsessive
butheunderstood.The
enemycouldbeanywhere.
Eighteen
A softrustlingsound
broughtheroutofa
restlesssleepandvaguely
menacingdreams.Shewoke
upbreathless,herpulse
skittering.Ittookherafew
secondstocenterherself.
Youaretheeyeofthe
storm—youarecalmandin
control.
Shehadleftthebedroom
doorpartwayopen.Asshe
watched,adarkshadow
movedalongthehallway.
Panicshiveredthroughher.
Shesatupquicklyand
pushedthecoversaside,
instinctwarninghertogeton
herfeetsothatshecould
choosefightorflight.
Reasontookover.Itwas
Juliusoutthereinthehall.It
hadtobeJulius.Perhaps
somethinghadawakened
him.
Herpulseratesteadiedand
herbreathingcalmed.The
problemwasthatshewasnot
accustomedtohavingaman
inthehouse—notatthis
hour,atanyrate.Shereached
forherrobe,slidherfeetinto
theslippersandwentoutinto
thehall.
Thefrontroomlayin
unexpectedlydeepshadows.
Ittookherafewsecondsto
realizethatthenight-lightin
thatroomwasnolonger
illuminated.Thebulbmust
haveburnedout,shethought.
Shemadeanotetochangeit
inthemorning.
ThenshesawJulius.He
stoodatthewindowwatching
thenightthroughacrackin
thecurtains.Hewaswearing
adarkcrew-neckedT-shirt
andthekhakishe’dhadon
earlierintheevening.His
feetwerebare.
“Whatisit?”sheasked
quietly.Shemovedfarther
intotheroom.“Doyousee
something?”
“No,”Juliussaid.He
turnedbacktothewindow.“I
justhadafeeling—”
“Thatsomeonewas
watching?”
Juliusshrugged.
“Somethingwokeme.
Probablyacargoingpaston
theroad.It’sprettydamn
quietouthereatnight.”
“Youturnedoffthenightlightinthisroom,didn’t
you?”
“Didn’twanttobe
silhouettedagainstit.I’ll
switchitonwhenIgobackto
bed.”Heglancedather.“Is
thatokay?”
“Yes,certainly.”Grace
huggedherself.“I’vehada
creepyfeelingthatsomeone
waswatchingeverynight
sinceIstartedreceivingthose
damnedemails.I’vebeen
tellingmyselfit’sjustmy
imagination.”
“Someoneiswatchingyou
—wejustdon’tknowifthat
personishereinCloudLake
oratsomeotherlocation.
Whenwefindoutwhy,we’ll
knowtheidentityofthe
watcher.”
Juliuswalkedacrossthe
roomandcametoahaltin
frontofher.Hekissedher
forehead.
“Gobacktobed,”hesaid.
“You’renotalonetonight.”
“Iknow.Thanks.”
Theatmospherewasonce
againchargedwithedgy
tendrilsofanticipation.Itwas
asifshewasstandingona
highcliffaboveacrashing
sea,shethought.Shelonged
totakethediveintothedeep,
mysteriouswatersbutshe
wasverysurenowthat
becominginvolvedinan
affairwithJuliuswouldbea
high-riskendeavor.
Thesilencebetweenthem
lengthened.Itwasasifthey
werebothwaitingfor
somethingmomentousto
happen.
Itwasthensherealized
thatshewastheonewho
wouldhavetomakethefirst
move.Juliuswasleavingthe
decisionuptoher.Heknew
howtowaitforwhathe
wanted.Hepossessedthe
patienceofahunter.
Thismanisdifferent.Not
anotherstray.Youneedto
thinkaboutthis.
Shepulledherselftogether.
“I’llseeyouinthe
morning,”shesaid.
“I’llbehere.”
Itwasapromise.
Gracemadeherselfgo
backdownthehalltoher
bedroom.Thistimewhenshe
climbedintobedshefellinto
adreamlesssleep.Juliuswas
standingguardagainstthe
monsterstonight.
Nineteen
I
twascoldandthe
dampnessinthenight
airwarnedofrainbut
thewatcherintheshadows
wasnotquitereadytoleave
thecoverofthetrees.
Thenight-lightsinthelake
househadshiftedafew
minutesago.Someonehad
gottenoutofbed—Grace,
probably.Shewasfinally
becomingawarethatshewas
beingstalked.Ithadbeenfun
watchingherdashouttobuy
anewrefrigeratortoday.
Bonuspointsforthatmove.
Talkaboutanoverreaction.
Thewoman’snervesmustbe
shreddednow.
Thehunthadgone
accordingtoplanuntil
recently.Whoknewthatthe
gamewouldprovetobeso
addictive?
JuliusArkwrightwasan
unforeseencomplication,but
aminorone.Hewaswhatthe
militarydescribedasasoft
target.
Gracewouldbeaneven
softertarget.
Twenty
T
hemuffledcrunch
ofgravelannounced
thearrivalofacar
inthedrive.Gracehitsaveon
thekeyboard.Followingthe
instructionsofhernew
consultant,shehadbeen
attemptingtocreateaskill-set
list.Shehadbeenworking
diligentlyeversinceJulius
hadleftthatmorningbutshe
hadnotmademuchprogress.
Shewasafraidthattherewere
notmanyemployerswho
wouldleapattheopportunity
tohiresomeonewhosechief
skillwastheabilitytowrite
affirmation-themed
cookbooksandblogs.
Therehadbeenother
obstaclestoproductivitythat
morningaswell.Memoriesof
breakfastwithJuliuskept
interruptingherattemptsto
focusonherproject.
Shehadfoundthe
experienceofwakinguptoa
maninherkitchen—onewho
wasmakingcoffee,noless—
disconcerting.Shehad
alwaystoldherselfthatwhen
therightmancamealong,she
wouldreconsiderherpolicy
ofnotallowingamanto
spendthenightbutsomehow
thathadneverhappened.
Thatmorning,however,
shehadbeenconfrontedwith
therealityofJulius,andshe
stillcouldnotdecideifhe
wastherightmanorthe
wrongone.
Forhispart,Juliushadnot
exhibitedanysuch
uncertainties.Hehadsettled
inasifhegotupandmade
coffeeforthetwoofthem
everydayofhislife.Dueto
theemptyrefrigerator,
breakfasthadconsistedof
toastandpeanutbutteranda
coupleoforanges.Eatingthe
mealwithJuliushadbeenan
unexpectedlygratifying
experience.Shewonderedif
sheoughttobeworriedabout
that.
Therehadbeennowayto
handlehisdeparture
discreetly.Agneswasan
earlyriser.Shehadcomeout
ontoherbackporchtowave
cheerfullyatJuliuswhenhe
lefttotakethefootpathtohis
place.Gracehadwatched
fromthekitchenwindowas
hestoppedandchattedbriefly
withAgnes.Everyone
involvedhadactedasifit
wasallveryroutine.
Gracehadknownthenthat
HarleyMontoyawasright.
ThenewsthatJuliushad
spentthenightattheElland
housewouldbeallovertown
bynoon.Sureenough,shortly
afternine,Agneshad
departedinhertiny,fuel-
efficientcar.Shelikedtorun
hererrandsearlyintheday.
Shehadreturnedfromher
missionanhourago.
Gracegottoherfeetand
wenttothewindow.Ithad
rainedearlythatmorningbut
thestormfronthadpassed
andthecloudshadbrokenup.
Theforecastpromisedmore
rainthatafternoonbutfor
nowtherewassomewinter
sunlight.
ShewatchedtheBMW
cometoahaltinthedrive.
Shedidnotrecognizethe
vehiclebutwhenshesawthe
manwhoclimbedoutfrom
behindthewheel,afrissonof
uncertaintymadehercatch
herbreath.
“Crap,”shesaidaloudto
theemptyroom.
No,shethoughtinthenext
breath,sheoughttotakea
muchmorepositiveattitude
towardhervisitor.Hewas
probablytheonlypotential
employersheknewwho
mightbeinterestedinher
uniqueskillset.
LarsonRaynerwasalsoa
suspectinSprague’smurder.
Sheopenedthedoorjustas
hereachedouttostabthe
doorbellwithoneelegantly
buffednail.
Larsonsmiledatherwith
hispatentedI-can-makeyour-life-better-in-ten-easystepssmile.Blue-eyedand
dark-haired,withalean,
athleticbuild,asquare-jawed
profile,verywhiteteeth,a
touchofgrayatthetemples
andasincere,straightforward
manner,hewasperfectlycast
fortheroleheplayedinreal
life.Hehadbeenborntobea
motivationalspeaker.
“Hello,Grace,”hesaid.
Spraguehadmentioned
thatLarsonhadtaken
elocutionlessonsatthestart
ofhiscareer.Theresultshad
paidoffinawarm,resonant
voicethatworkedaswellin
personasitdidwitha
microphone.
“Iwasn’texpectingyou,
Larson,”shesaid.
“Greattoseeyouagain.”
Hiseyeswarmedwithdeep
concern.“Howareyou
holdingup?I’vebeenvery
concerned.Youwentthrough
atraumaticexperience.”
“I’mdoingfine,thanks,”
shesaid.Sheinfusedher
voicewithalltheperky,
upbeatenergyshecould
summon.
ThefrontdoorofAgnes’s
houseopened.Agnesstepped
outontoherporchwithapair
ofpruningshearsinhand.
Gracemadeapointofwaving
atherenthusiastically.Agnes
returnedthegreeting,thebig
shearsgleaminginthe
sunlight.Shesmiled
cheerfullyandwentdownthe
stepstogoabouther
gardeningtasks.
Gracehadahunchthat
Agneswouldbeheadingback
intotownthatafternoonto
runafewmoreerrands.Two
malevisitorsattheElland
houseinlessthantwenty-four
hourswasboundtostirup
interest.
ItoccurredtoGracethat
shemightaswelltake
advantageofAgnes’s
curiosity.Itwashardto
imagineLarsonasakillerbut
onethingwascertain,there
hadbeennolovelostbetween
LarsonandSprague.The
rivalrybetweenthetwomen
waslong-standing.Itwasnot
inconceivablethatLarson
mighthavebeendrivento
murder.Theideaofbeing
alonewithhimraisedafew
redflags.Agnesmadeavery
convenientwitness.
Gracewentoutontothe
porch,allowingthedoorto
closebehindher.Shemoved
totherailing.
“Agnes,”shecalled,“I’d
likeyoutomeetLarson
Rayner.Youmayhaveheard
ofhim.He’saverypopular
motivationalspeaker.Larson,
thisisAgnesGilroy.”
“Howexciting,”Agnes
said.Shebustledthroughthe
gardentothehedgethat
servedasafence.“I’veseen
youonTV,Mr.Rayner.Such
anice-lookingman.Youare
justashandsomeinreallife.
Apleasuretomeetyou.”
Impatienceglitteredin
Larson’seyesbuttherewas
nohintofitinhiswarm
voice.
“Thepleasureisallmine,
Ms.Gilroy,”hesaid.
“Oh,docallmeAgnes.
Howniceofyoutocomeall
thiswaytoseeourGrace.”
“IconsiderGracea
colleague,”Larsonsaid.
“She’shadaterribleshock,
asI’msureyou’reaware.I
wantedtoseehowshewas
gettingon.”
“Thatissothoughtfulof
you,”Agnessaid.She
chuckledandwinkedat
Grace.“Somanyinteresting
gentlemenlookingafteryou
thesedays,dear.Take
advantageofitwhileyoucan.
Theolderyouget,theleaner
thepickings.”
Gracefelttheheatrisein
hercheeks.
“Thanksfortheadvice,
Agnes,”shesaid.Sheturned
toLarsonandloweredher
voice.“Justtoclarify,Ithink
thatifyouhadbeendeeply
concernedaboutme,you
wouldhaveshownuphere
sooner.Sowhydon’tyou
comeinsideandtellmethe
realreasonforyourvisit
today?”
Larsonblinked,evidently
bothsurprisedanddeeply
hurtbythecasualmannerin
whichshehadbrushedaside
thepossibilitythathis
intentionswereofafriendly
nature.Tinycreasesappeared
brieflyatthecornersofhis
eyesandhisjawtightenedbut
hefollowedherintothe
house.
Sheledthewayintothe
kitchenandsetaboutmaking
coffee.
“Haveaseat,”shesaid.
Larsonhesitatedandthen
loweredhimselfintoachair
onthefarsideofthetable.
“Coffee?”sheasked.
“Thanks,”hesaid.“Icould
useacup.Longdrivefrom
Seattle.Trafficwasbadthis
morning.Therewasan
accidentontheinterstate.”
“Ihopeyoudon’ttake
creaminyourcoffee,”she
said.Shewatchedhisface
whilesheranwaterintothe
glasspot.“Therefrigeratoris
nolongerfunctioning.I’ve
gotanewonecomingthis
afternoon.Meanwhile,Ihad
totossoutallofthefoodthat
wasinsidethisone.”
“Idon’tusecreamor
sugar,”Larsonsaid.He
glancedattherefrigerator.“It
looksfairlynew.”
“I’mgoingtosellit,”she
said,avoidingthequestionof
warranties.
Shepaidcloseattentionbut
asfarasshecouldtell,
Larsonimmediatelylost
interestintherefrigerator.
Deadratsdidn’tseemlikehis
thing,anyway,shethought.
Shepouredthewaterintothe
machine,measuredthecoffee
andhittheonswitch.
“I’llcomestraighttothe
point,”Larsonsaid.“I’mhere
becauseIwanttoofferyoua
positiononmystaff.”
Herfirstrealjobofferand
shehadn’tevenfinishedher
businessplan.Shecouldn’t
waittotellJulius.
“Isee,”shesaid.“I’m
flattered,ofcourse,butI’ve
beendoingalotofthinking
andI’mnotsureIwantto
stayinthemotivationalfield.
Itmightbetimetomoveon
tosomethingdifferent.”
“Iagree,”Larsonsaid.
“Youdo?”
Determinationgleamedin
hiseyes.“Look,Ihadmy
differenceswithWitherspoon
butIhavenothingbut
admirationforyouandyour
abilities.Youwerean
invaluableassettothe
operationbutSpraguedidn’t
giveyouthecredityou
deserved.Furthermore,I’m
surehealsounderpaidyou.I
guaranteeyouthatI’lldouble
yoursalary.”
ItwasLarson’sairof
desperationmorethanthe
offerofabettersalarythat
piquedhercuriosity.Inher
experience,hehadalways
beensupremelyconfidentand
sureofhisowncharisma.
“That’sverygenerousof
you,”shesaid.“Butthething
is,I’mconsideringanother
careerpathentirely.Ireally
don’tthinkthatI’mcutoutto
beanassistanttoa
motivationalcoachforthe
restofmylife.Lifeis
enhancedwhenweseekfresh
challenges,asweinthe
WitherspoonWayliketo
say.”
Thatclearlyirritated
Larsonbuthekeptthe
sincerityvibegoing.
“It’snaturalthatyouwould
wanttoconsiderallyour
options,”hesaid.“ButI
disagreewithyournegative
analysisofyourown
potential.”
“Iwasn’tbeingnegative.”
Shefoldedherarmsand
loungedagainstthecounter
nexttothecoffeepot.“Isaid
I’mlookingforfresh
challenges.”
“Yourtalentslieinthe
motivationalfield.The
problemisthatyouhaven’t
hadachancetofullyexplore
theopportunities.Thatwas
Witherspoon’sfault.Iknew
himbetterthananyoneelse
did.Hewasslick,I’llgive
himthat.Butheusedpeople.
What’smore,hediditso
well,mostofthemnever
realizedhowtheyhadbeen
useduntilitwastoolate.”
“Thatsoundspersonal,”
shesaidcoolly.
Larsongrimaced.“Iadmit
thatI’moneofthepeoplehe
usedonhiswayup.Look,I
knowthatyouandeveryone
elseintheWitherspoonoffice
heardthatlastargumentIhad
withWitherspoon.Losingthe
McCormickseminarwasthe
finalstraw.Itwasthefifth
timeinsixmonthsthatI’d
hadacallfromaclient
informingmethatacertain
firmwouldnotbedoingany
morebusinesswithmy
company.OneachoccasionI
foundoutthatthe
WitherspoonWaywas
booked,instead.”
“YouthinkSprague
somehowstolethose
contractsfromyou?”Grace
asked.
Larson’srighthand
clampedintoafistonthe
kitchentable.Heseemed
unawareofthesmallaction.
“Iknowhestolethose
seminarsfromme,”hesaid.
Footstepssoundedonthe
backporch,startlingGrace.
Sheglancedoutthewindow
andsawJulius.Heopened
thedoorandenteredthe
kitchenwiththeairofaman
whohadeveryrighttobe
there.Hecrossedthefloorto
whereGracestood,gaveher
aquick,proprietarykissand
thenturnedtoLarson.
“You’vegotcompany,”he
saidtoGrace.
ButLarsonwasalreadyon
hisfeet,smilingbroadly.The
handthathadbeencurledinto
afistwasnowextendedin
greeting.“LarsonRayner.
GraceandIarecolleagues.”
“Notquite,”Gracesaid.
Butshecouldtellthat
neithermanwaslisteningto
her.Theyweretoobusy
circlingeachother,
metaphoricallyspeaking.
Therewasalotof
testosteroneinthe
atmosphere.Juliusand
Larsonwereassessingeach
otherthewaymendidwhen
therewasonlyonewomanin
thevicinityandtheyboth
wantedtolayclaimtoher.
Itwouldhavebeenmore
flattering,shethought,if
JuliusandLarsonhadbeen
vyingtocarryheroffintoa
hiddenbowertoravishher.
Butsheknewthateachman
hadasomewhatdifferent
agenda.Larsonwantedto
takeadvantageofherrather
eclecticskillset.Asfor
Julius,shewasprettysurehis
protectiveinstinctshadbeen
aroused.
“JuliusArkwright,”Julius
said.
Themenshookhands
briefly.Thegesturewasshort
andbrusque.
Agleamofinterest
sharpenedLarson’s
expression.“Arkwright
Ventures?”
“That’sright,”Juliussaid.
Hesaiditeasily,asif
everyoneownedathriving
venturecapitalbusinessthat
rakedinmillions.Butthere
wassomethingelseinfused
intothewords—aquiet
possessivenessthatmadeit
clearhecouldandwould
protectwhatwashis.He
mightbeaboredlionbuthe
was,nevertheless,alion.
Larson’ssmilewidened
andhiseyesbrightenedwith
whatwasprobablyintended
tolooklikeadmiration.Grace
thoughttheexpressionborea
strikingresemblancetothat
ofashrewdsalesmanwho
hasspottedapotentialclient.
“I’mverypleasedtomeet
you,”hesaid.“I’mafan.I
admirewhatyou’vedone
withyourcompany.You’ve
gotamajortalentforspotting
up-and-comingmarketsand
trends.”
“I’vegotgoodpeople
workingwithme,”Julius
said.
Larsonnoddedsagely.“A
goodleadergivescredittohis
people.”Heswitchedhis
polishedsmiletoGrace.“I’m
heretodaybecauseIfully
respectGrace’sabilities.I’m
hopingtoaddhertomyown
staff.”
Julius’seyeswentacouple
ofdegreesbelowfreezing.“Is
thatso?”
Sheshothimawarning
frown.“Larsoncametosee
metodaytooffermeajob.”
“Doingwhat?”Julius
asked.
“Iwasintheprocessof
describingthepositionto
Gracewhenyouarrived,”
Larsonsaid.Hesmiledat
Grace.“Ihopeyouwill
considerjoiningTeam
Rayner.”
“I’mreallynotmuchofa
teamplayer,”Gracesaid.
“You’llhaveyourown
officeandallthefreedomand
supportyouneedtogivefree
reintoyourcreativity,”
Larsonsaid.Hewasvery
earnestnow.“Irepeat,Iwill
doublewhateverWitherspoon
paidyou.What’smore,ifyou
guaranteemeaminimumof
oneyearofservice,I’llgive
youacommissiononallof
theseminarsthatyoubook.”
“That’saverygenerous
offer,”Gracesaid.“ButI
reallydoneedtothinkabout
it.I’vegotalotofthings
goingoninmylifeatthe
momentandIhavethis
feelingthatit’stimeformeto
moveontoanothercareer.”
Larson’ssmilelostsomeof
itssparkle.“Iunderstandthat
you’rereadyforanew
challenge.I’minapositionto
makethathappenforyou.If
youaren’treadytojoinmy
teamasafull-timememberof
mystaff,willyouconsider
consultingforme?”
“Whatkindofconsulting?”
sheasked.“You’realeaderin
yourfield.Actually,nowthat
Spragueisgone,you’ll
probablybecomethepremier
motivationalspeakerinthe
PacificNorthwest—maybe
thewholeWestCoast.Idon’t
thinkyouneedme.”
“Ah,nowthereyouare
mistaken.”Larsonheldupa
hand,palmout.“Noneedto
bemodest.Iknowforafact
thatyouweretheonewho
wrotethatcookbookandthe
WitherspoonWayblog.You
madeSpragueamedia
sensation.Buthenevergave
youanyofthecredit,didhe?
I’llbethedidn’tgiveyoua
percentageofthetakeon
thoseseminars,either.”
Gracestilled.Julius
regardedherwitha
thoughtfulexpression.She
waslearningtointerpretthat
particularlookandshewas
fairlycertainitneverboded
well.Butshegavehimcredit
forhavingthegoodsensenot
tosayanything.
“Whereareyougoingwith
this,Larson?”sheasked
quietly.
Larsonshovedhisfingers
throughhishair.“Isn’tit
obvious?Iwantyoutotake
overmysocialmedia.In
addition,I’dliketotakethat
cookbookideaofyoursand
expanditintoafulllifestyle
seriesbasedonthethemeof
positivethinkingandyour
affirmations.Yes,Iknowyou
weretheonewhocameup
withthose,too.”
“Inotherwords,youare
offeringmeapositionasa
ghostwriterforbothyour
blogandyourbooks.”
“Well,yes,”hesaid.“We
bothknowthatit’sthe
RaynerSeminarsbrandthat
willselltheblogandthe
books.ButIpromiseyouthat
youwillbewellpaid,andI
willseetoitthatyour
contributionisacknowledged
ateverystepoftheway.”
“LikeIsaid,I’llthink
aboutit,”shesaid.
“What’sholdingyou
back?”Larsonglanced
skepticallyatJuliusandthen
turnedbacktoGrace.“Has
someonemadeyouabetter
offer?”
“No,”sheadmitted.“I’m
stilltryingtofindmypath
forward.”
“Mightaswellearnsome
goodmoneywhileyouwork
onfindingthatpath,”Larson
said.Hepausedforemphasis.
“Onemorethingyoushould
know.”
“Yes?”
“I’mmakingsimilaroffers
toyourformercoworkers,
KristyForsythandMillicent
Chartwell.Iwantthewhole
team.Iguaranteethatallof
youwillbeabletonameyour
ownprice.”
Gracelookedathim.
“Aren’tyouafraidthatoneof
usmightbeanembezzler?”
Toheramazement,Larson
chuckled.“Haven’tyouheard
thelatestnewsonthecase?
Spraguewastheembezzler.”
Gracestaredathim,
dumbfounded.“Idon’t
understand.”
Juliuswenttothecoffee
machine.“Raynermaybe
right.Icameheretogiveyou
thenews.Accordingtothe
investigatorswhoare
examiningthefinancial
records,itappearsthat
SpragueWitherspoonmay
havebeenskimmingoffthe
money.”
“ButitwasSprague’s
money,”Gracesaid.“Why
wouldhehidethetheft?”
“Couldhavebeenacouple
ofreasons,”Larsonoffered.
“Onewasthathewasusing
themoneyforpurposeshe
wantedtokeepsecret.”
“Suchas?”Grace
challenged.
Larsonshrugged.“There
arerumorsthathemayhave
hadagamblingaddiction.”
“That’s...almost
impossibletobelieve,”Grace
said,stunned.
Juliuspouredhimselfacup
ofcoffee.“Thereareother
reasonswhyasuccessful
entrepreneurwouldwantto
hidealotofcash.Theexperts
arestilllookingintothe
records.”
Sheshothimacurious
glance.Theybothknewthat
by“experts”hemeanthis
wizardsatArkwright
Ventures.
“Theembezzlementissue
hasgoneaway,”Larsonsaid.
Hetookoutacardand
handedittoGrace.“Ithink
it’ssafetosaythatwhenthe
policefinallysolve
Witherspoon’smurder,the
killerwillturnouttobe
someoneconnectedtohis
gamblingaddiction.It’sa
dangerousworld.Here’smy
privateline.Callmewithany
questions,nightorday.I’ll
checkbackwithyousoon.”
“Okay,”Gracesaid.She
didn’tknowwhatelsetosay.
Shewasstillgrapplingwith
thenewsofSprague’s
gamingaddiction.
“Youwerebornforthe
motivationalworld,Grace.”
Larsonsmiled.“Youjust
needachancetoshine.”He
glancedathiswatch.“I’d
bettergetgoing.I’vegotan
appointmentbackinSeattle.”
“Younevergotyour
coffee,”Gracesaid.
“Someothertime,thanks,”
Larsonsaid.“Apleasureto
meetyou,Julius.Iwouldbe
happytositdownwithyouat
yourconveniencetodiscuss
whatRaynerSeminarscando
foryou.Good-bye,Grace.
Callsoon.Idon’tknowhow
longIcankeepthisoffer
open.”
Hewalkedoutofthe
kitchenandacrosstheliving
room.Gracetrailedafterhim
andopenedthedoor.
Larsonwentdownthe
porchstepsandgotintohis
car.Juliuscametostand
behindGrace.Togetherthey
watchedLarsondriveoutto
themainroadanddisappear.
“Heseemsalittle
desperate,”Juliussaid.
“Ithinkhe’sjustvery
enthusiasticaboutmovinghis
companyforward,”Grace
said.
“No,thatwasdesperationI
sawinLarsonRayner.He
wantsyouvery,verybadly.
Youmusthavebeendamn
goodatthepositive-thinking
business.”
“Ididhaveaflairfor
affirmations,andthe
cookbookwasoneofmy
betterideas,”Gracesaid.
“ButI’mnotsurethatIcan
workforLarson.”
“Whynot?”
“BecauseIdon’tthinkhe’s
sincereaboutthepowerof
positivethinking,”shesaid.
“I’mnotsayinghe’saphony
buthe’snotcommittedthe
waySpraguewascommitted.
Spraguegenuinelywantedto
helppeople.Hisbeliefin
positiveenergywasreal.He
inspiredme.”
Julius’sbrowsrose.
“Larsondoesn’tinspireyou?”
“Nope.”
“Here’salittleinsidejob-
huntingtip—ifyou’reonly
willingtoworkforpeople
whoinspireyou,you’regoing
todiscoverthatyou’re
lookingataverysmallgroup
ofpotentialemployers.”
Shesighed.“Thathas
occurredtome.”
Twenty-One
S
heledthewayback
intothekitchenand
turnedtofaceJulius.
“Aretheinvestigators
reallyconvincedthatSprague
mayhaveusedcompany
moneytocoveruphis
gamblinglosses?”sheasked.
“It’sstillatheoryatthis
point.I’mtoldthatthereare
somestrongindicationsthat
maybethecase.ButI’mnot
buyingthatstory,notyet.I
toldthewizardstolook
deeper.”
“It’salmostimpossibleto
believethatSpraguewasa
gambler.Butifit’strue,it
changesalotofthings,
includingthepoolofsuspects
inthemurder.”
“No,”Juliussaid.“It
doesn’taffectthesuspect
pool.Thereisstillthelittle
matterofthevodkabottle.No
professionalassassin
employedbyamobboss
wouldhavegonetothe
troubleofresearchingyour
pasttocomeupwiththat
littlebitofincriminating
information.Therewasno
needtodothat.Prosalmost
alwaysgetawaywithmurder,
literally.Ithinkthemurder
wasalotmorepersonal.And
there’sstilltheissueofthe
stalker.”
“Thisisgettingmore
confusingbytheday.”
“No,Ithinkwe’refinally
startingtoseeapattern.But
meanwhile,I’mgladyou’re
notjumpingonRayner’s
offerofajobbecauseI’mnot
enthusiasticabouttheideaof
yougoingtoworkforhim.”
“Whynot?”
“Somethingaboutthatguy
feelsoff.”
“He’saprofessional
motivationalspeaker,”she
said.“Weknowhowyoufeel
aboutthebusiness.”
“Whathe’sgotisatalent
forsales,”Juliussaid.“And
asfarasI’mconcerned,he’s
stillonthesuspectlistwhen
itcomestoWitherspoon’s
murder.”
“SpragueandLarson
arguedfuriouslyshortly
beforeSpraguewaskilled,”
Gracesaid.“Thequarrel
happenedinSprague’s
privateofficebutMillicent
andKristyandIwere
workingintheouterofficeat
thetime.Weheardthe
shouting.”
“Whatweretheyfighting
about?”Juliusasked.
“Spraguehadjustreceived
acontractforamajor
speakingengagementinLos
Angeles.Larsonfeltthe
contractshouldhavebeenhis.
HeaccusedSpragueof
sabotaginghim.Hewassure
thatSpraguehadusedhis
connectionstotelltheclient
thatRaynerSeminarswasin
troublefinancially.”
“Whywouldthathave
matteredtothepeoplewho
wantedtohireamotivational
speaker?”Juliusasked.
“Seemslikefinancialtroubles
wouldjustmakea
motivationalguruallthe
moremotivated.”
Shegavehimaquelling
look.“Thatisnotfunny.AsI
recall,thetopicofthe
seminarwas‘APositiveThinkingApproachtoWealth
Management.’”
Juliusgrinnedbriefly.
“Okay,Icanseetheproblem
there.”
“Youwouldn’twantto
bookamotivationalseminar
onthatsubjectwithaspeaker
whoseowncompanywas
headingforbankruptcy.”
Juliusturnedthoughtful.
“IsittruethatRayneris
havingfinancialtroubles?”
“Therumorsstarted
circulatingafewmonthsago.
Whetherornottheyaretrue,
Ican’tsay.”
“ItakeitRaynerand
Witherspoonhadahistory?”
Juliussaid.
“Oh,yeah,”Gracesaid.
Sheledthewaybackintothe
kitchen.“Theystartedoutas
partnersandtherewassome
kindofblowup.Rumorsof
thefeudhavecirculatedinthe
motivationalworldeversince
thebreakup.”
Juliuswasbriefly
distracted.“There’sa
motivationalworld?”
“Yepandit’sasmallone
—atleastitisatthelevel
SpragueandLarson
occupied.”
“Anyideawhatcausedthe
falling-outbetweenthetwo?”
“Therewasawoman
involved,”Gracesaid.
“Sprague’ssecondwife,not
Nyla’smother.I’mtoldthe
secondMrs.Witherspoon
wasaboutthirtyyears
youngerandquiteattractive.
EvidentlyLarsonhadan
affairwithher.I’veheardthat
—formen—thereareonly
twothingsworthfighting
over—moneyandwomen.”
“I’veheardthatoldsaying,
too,”Juliussaid.“Iwouldn’t
puttoomuchstockinit,
though.”
“No?”Shewatchedhim
closely.“Whynot?”
“I’mnotsayingmendon’t
fightovermoneyandwomen.
I’mjustsayingthatthere’s
notmuchpointfightingover
awomanwhodoesn’twant
you,andwhenitcomesto
money,there’salwaysmore
outthere.Whyriskprisonfor
eitherreason?”
“Beatsme,”Gracesaid,
amused.“Butpeopleseem
willingtodojustthatallthe
time.Prisonisfullofpeople
whoshototherpeoplefor
coldhardcashordrugs.And
therearealsoalotofpeople
inprisonwhomurderedother
peopleinajealousrage.”
“Can’targuewiththat,”
Juliussaid.“I’mjustsaying
thosearen’tgoodreasonsto
kill.”
Shewatchedhimdrinkhis
coffee.
“That’sveryZen,”she
said.
“Morelikecommon
sense.”Juliuswenttostandat
thewindow.“Theother
problemwiththatoldsaying
isthatitleavesoutacouple
ofotherviablemotivesfor
murder.”
Shefilledherownmug.
“Suchas?”
“Powerandrevenge.”
Sheleanedbackagainstthe
counter.“Okay.Butbothof
thosemotivescouldhave
beenatworkinascenario
thatfeaturesLarsonkilling
Sprague.”
Juliustriedasipofhis
coffee.“WhendidLarson
Raynerhavetheaffairwith
SpragueWitherspoon’s
wife?”
“LongbeforeIwashired.
Maybefourorfiveyears
ago.”
“DidRaynermarry
Witherspoon’sex?”
“No.Igathershedidwell
outofthedivorcebutasfar
asIknowshemovedon.”
“Thatprobablymakes
jealousyanevenmore
unlikelymotive,”Juliussaid.
“Sowe’rebacktomoney.
DidWitherspoonstealsome
ofRayner’sclients?”
Sheraisedherchin.“I
honestlydon’tthinkSprague
didanythingunderhanded.
ButsomeofLarson’sclients
didswitchtheirbusinessto
Witherspoon.”
Juliusnoddedthoughtfully.
“Thankstoyou.”
“Iwasabletoleverage
someideasthatworkedout
wellforthefirm,”shesaid,
goingformodesty.“Myskill
setissomewhatlimitedbutI
dohaveafewtoolsinthe
box.”
“AndnowLarsonRayner
wantsyouandyourskills,”
Juliussaid.“Nosurprise
there.Whenanambitious
politicianlosesarace,oneof
thefirstthingshedoesistry
tohirethewinner’scampaign
manager.Sameholdstruein
thebusinessworld.”
Gracewavedonehand.
“Goodgrief,Iamnotsome
sortofmotivationalgunfor
hire.”
“You’vegottoadmitit
wouldlookinterestingona
businesscard:Positive
ThinkingGunforHire.
Affirmationsfortheup-andcomingmotivationalguru.”
“SometimesIthinkyougo
outofyourwaytotryto
impressmewithyour
cynicism,”Gracesaid.
“I’mapragmaticman.”
“Bullshit.”
Julius’sbrowsrose.
“Bullshit?”
“What?Youdidn’tthinkI
knewtheword?”
Hesmiled.“Ihadn’t
consideredthequestionuntil
now.Thesubjecthasn’t
arisen.”
“IassureyouIhavea
wide-rangingvocabulary,but
generallyspeakingIreserveit
fortheappropriate
occasions.”
“Mecallingmyselfa
pragmatistqualifiesasan
occasionthatrequirestheuse
ofthewordbullshit?”Julius
asked.Hedidn’tsound
offended,merelycurious.
“Yes,Idobelievebullshit
istheappropriatewordhere,”
Gracesaidfirmly.“You
probablythinkofyourselfas
pragmaticbecauseyoucan
maketheharddecisionswhen
necessary.Yougettothe
bottomlinebeforeanyone
elseandyouseenopoint
dwellingontheemotions
involvedinarrivingatyour
destination.”
Juliusnoddedthoughtfully.
“I’dsaythat’safairsummary
ofmypersonalphilosophy.”
“Here’sthething,Julius—
youwouldn’tthrowan
innocentpersonunderthebus
justtocloseadealorachieve
yourgoals.Youmaybe
cynical,butyouhaveyour
owncodeandyousticktoit.”
Heshookhishead,clearly
perplexedbyhernaiveté.
“Whatmakesyousosureof
that?”
Shesmiled.“Ifyouhad
chosentobeabadguy,you
woulddoamuchbetterjobof
playingtherole.”
Twenty-Two
T
henewrefrigerator
arrivedforty-five
minutesafterLarson
Raynerleft.Thedeliverymen
obliginglydisconnectedthe
oldoneandmoveditoutonto
theshelteredbackporch.
Theywrappeditinheavy
sheetsofplastictoprotectit
fromtheelementsuntilGrace
couldsellit.
Juliuscouldseetherelief
inhereyeswhenthe
offendingappliancewas
finallygonefromthekitchen.
Heunderstood.
Thenewwindowwas
installedanhourlater.
Followingthat,Graceinsisted
ongoinggroceryshoppingto
restockhergleamingnew
appliance.
Whatwithonethingand
another,itwasnearlyone
o’clockbeforeJuliuswas
abletosettledowntothe
businessofexplainingafew
ofthefactsofbusinesslifeto
hisnewclient.
“Let’sgetthisstraight,”he
said.“Atalentforwriting
cheerylittlefeel-good
affirmationsisnotconsidered
ausefulskillinmosthighpowered,high-paying
industries.”
“MaybeIneedalowpoweredindustry,”Grace
said.
“Notalotofthoseleft,”
Juliussaid.“Andwhatabout
thelowpaythatusuallygoes
withthefewthatmightstill
beoutthere?”
“Goodpoint,”shesaid.
“Weneedtofinda
differentwaytodescribeyour
skills.”
“Howmanywaysarethere
tosaythatIcanwrite
optimisticaffirmations?”
Graceasked.
“Idon’tknowyet,”Julius
said.“Butlet’strytothink
positive,shallwe?”
Sheglaredathim.“Thatis
notamusing.”
“Right.Backtowork,
then.”
Therainreturnedbutthere
wasafireinthefireplaceand
Juliusthoughtthatthelittle
housefeltcozyand
comfortable.Theworkon
Grace’srésuméwasnot
goingwellbuthehadalready
concludedthathewouldbe
contenttolaboroveritfora
verylongtimeifitmeanthe
couldremainclosetoGrace.
Thephonerangjustasshe
gotuptomakeapotoftea.
Juliussawherflinchalittle,
eventhoughitwasaregular
call,notanemailalert.
Gracetookthecall.The
conversationwasbrief.
“Yes,”shesaid.“Yes,of
course.”Sheglancedatthe
clock.“Icanbetherebytwothirtyorthreeifthetraffic
isn’tbad.”
Sheendedthecalland
lookedatJulius.
“Thatwassomeonefrom
theSeattlePolice
Department,”shesaid.
“EvidentlytherewasabreakinattheWitherspoonWay
office.Thepolicearen’tsure
whentheburglaryoccurred
andtheycan’ttellifanything
ofvaluewasstolen.But
becausetheincidentmaybe
linkedtoSprague’sdeath,
we’vebeenaskedtogotothe
officeandseeifwecan
figureoutwhatwastaken.”
“We?”Juliusrepeated.
“Thethreeofuswho
workedforSprague,”Grace
explained.“Millicentand
Kristyhavealsobeenasked
tocomeinandtakealook.”
“Well,it’snotlikewe
weren’tplanningondriving
intothecitythisafternoonfor
thatdamndinnerandcharity
auctiontonight,”Juliussaid.
“I’lltakecareofafewthings
atmyofficewhileyouand
yourfriendstalktothe
police.”
“Okay,”shesaid.
“So,abouttonight,”he
said.
Everythinginsideher
tightenedacouplemore
notches.“Yes?”
“LookslikeI’mmoreor
lessgoingtobekeepingyou
companyintheeveningsuntil
thisstalkerproblemis
resolved.”
“Yes?”shesaidagain.
“Whatdoyousaywe
spendthenightinthecity?
I’mthinkingthere’snopoint
makingthelongdriveback
hereatmidnight.I’vegota
guestbedroomatmycondo.”
Shegavethatsome
thought.Hewasright.One
wayoranothertheywouldbe
spendingtheeveningunder
thesameroof.Whatdidit
matteriftheydrovebackto
CloudLakeorstayedin
Seattle?
“I’llpackabag,”shesaid.
Juliussmiledandfora
momentsheonceagain
ponderedtherisksofflirting
withtheBigBadWolf.
TwentyThree
T
hebastardwrecked
theplace,”Millicent
announced.
“Whoeverdidthismusthave
beenreallypissedoffwhen
hecouldn’tfindwhateverit
washethoughtSpraguehad
hiddenhere.”
“Thecopsaren’tsurethe
intruderhadanyconnection
withthemurder,”Grace
remindedher.“Youheardthe
officer.Theythinkthismay
havebeenrandom.Theysaid
it’squitepossiblethat
someonelookingfordrug
moneyrealizedtheofficehad
beenemptyforawhile.”
“Theonlythingsmissing
arethelaptops,”Kristysaid.
“They’realwaysprime
targetsinthiskindofthing.”
Thethreeofthemwere
standinginthereceptionarea
oftheWitherspoonoffices.A
policeofficerhadtakenthe
inventoryofmissingitems
andleftashorttimeago.
Afterward,themanagement
firmthatleasedthespaceto
theWitherspoonWayhad
authorizedallformer
employeestopickupany
personalpossessionstheyhad
leftbehind.Arepresentative
ofthemanagementcompany
waswaitingoutsideinthe
hallwaytolockupwhenthey
werefinished.
Itwasthefirsttimeanyof
themhadbeenallowedback
intotheofficesincetheday
GracediscoveredSprague’s
body.KristyandGracehad
broughtsmallcardboard
boxestocollectthefew
thingstheyhadleftbehindin
theirdesks.Millicenthad
broughtalongashiny,hardsidedroll-aboardsuitcase.
Theyellowcrimescene
tapehadbeenremovedbut
theofficelookedasifithad
beenhitbyawhirlwind.
Millicentwasright,Grace
thought.Whoeverhad
ransackedtheplacemust
havebeenfuriousthatthere
wasn’tmoreworthstealing.
Spraguehadoverseenthe
interiordesignofhisoffice
environment.Hehadinsisted
thatthespacereflectthe
sereneandharmoniousinner
balancethatheurgedothers
toseek.Tothatendhehad
hiredadesignerwhohad
goneallinonaminimalist
approach.Thepaletteranthe
gamutfromgraytooff-white.
Theonlytouchesofcolorhad
beenthebrilliantflowersin
theglassvases.Kristyhad
beenassignedthetaskof
replacingthebloomsas
needed.Spraguehadoften
notedthatshehadawaywith
greenery.
Thedesksintheindividual
officeswerestateoftheart,
designedtoconcealthehightechnecessitiesofthemodern
corporateworld.Oneswipeat
thesmallcontrolscreenon
eachdesktopandthe
computer,phonesandother
machinesvanishedbeneatha
Zen-smoothsurface.
Tofinishthelook,Sprague
hadbroughtinafengshui
experttoarrangethefurniture
sothatitwasproperly
oriented.Theall-important
groundingtoucheslikethe
littlefountaininthecorner
hadalsobeeninstalledbythe
expert.Thefountainno
longergurgled.
“IwonderwhyNyla
Witherspoondidn’tremove
thelaptops,herself,”
Millicentsaid.
“Whatwouldshedowith
them?”Kristyasked.“Ican’t
seehersellingthemon
eBay.”
“I’vegotafeelingthat
Nylahasbeenfocusedon
otherthingslately,”Grace
said.
Kristyhuggedherselfand
shookherhead.“Ithinkthe
copsareright.Thereprobably
isn’taconnectionbetween
thisbreak-inandwhat
happenedtopoorSprague.
Grace,Irememberyousaid
thattherewasnosignthatthe
killertookanythingfrom
Sprague’shomethenightthe
murderwascommitted.”
“That’strue,”Gracesaid.
“AlthoughIhavetotellyou,I
didnottakethetimetolook
around.Igotoutofthehouse
asquicklyaspossible.”
Millicentsniffed.“Avery
wisemove.”
“Still,Idon’trecallthat
anythingappearedtohave
beendisturbed,”Gracesaid.
“Andtherewasnothinginthe
papersaboutrobberyhaving
beenapossiblemotive.Ifthe
killerwasthesameperson
whoransackedthisplace,
you’dthinkhewouldhave
stolensomeofSprague’s
personalvaluables,too.”
“AsfarasI’mconcerned,
themissinglaptopsare
Nyla’sproblem,”Millicent
announced.“Iassumeyou
heardtherumorsabout
Witherspoon’slittlegambling
problem?”
“Yes,”Gracesaid.“But
it’shardtobelievehewas
payingoffgamblingdebts.”
“Ican’tbelieveit,either,”
Kristysaid.
“Well,Idobelieveitandit
explainsalot,”Millicentsaid.
“It’salsoahugerelieftome,
Icantellyouthat.Asthe
companybookkeeper,Iwas
afraidIwasatthetopofthe
suspectlistwhenitcameto
theembezzlementthing.My
issuesnowrevolvearound
job-hunting.Iassumeyou
bothgotthecallfromLarson
Rayner?”
“Yes,”Kristysaid.“I’m
thinkingaboutitbutI’m
goingtostalluntilwefind
outforcertainthatLarsonis
clearedofanyconnection
withthemurderofSprague.”
“LarsondrovetoCloud
Laketotalktomeabouta
positionatRaynerSeminars,”
Gracesaid.“I’mnotsure
whatI’mgoingtodo.
Kristy’sright,itwillbeeasier
tomakeadecisiononcewe
knowwhokilledSprague.”
Millicentlaughed.“Unlike
youtwo,I’mnotnearlyso
fussywhenitcomesto
employers.Ineedajoband
RaynerSeminarsissettotake
overthemotivational
businessinourregion.I’m
goingtograbLarson’soffer.”
Kristylookeddownata
heapofdeadflowersthathad
beenyankedoutofthevase
onherdeskanddumpedon
thefloor.“What,exactly,are
wesupposedtodobesides
collectourownbelongings?I
hopetheydon’texpectusto
cleanuptheplace.”
Thereceptiondeskhad
oncebeenKristy’scommand
postandshehadoccupiedit
brilliantly,handlingthe
mediaaswellasthe
Witherspoonbookings.
“Don’tknowaboutyou
two,”Millicentsaid,heading
towardherofficewiththe
littlesuitcase,“butifanyone
thinksI’mgoingtotidyup
here,they’vegotasurprise
coming.Theburglarwas
responsibleforthedamage,
notme.I’mgoingtoclean
outmydesk.”
Shedisappearedintoher
office.
“Thisisalljustsosad,”
Kristysaid.
Shesankintothehigh-tech
officechairandpickedupthe
framedphotoofherfamily
thathadbeenknocked
facedownontopofthedesk.
Verycarefullysheputthe
pictureintohercardboard
box.
“Gotanaffirmationforus,
Grace?”Millicentcalledfrom
theotherroom.
“HowaboutTodayIwill
beopentonewpossibilities?”
Gracesuggested.“Iusedit
withtheroastedfennelrecipe
inthecookbook.”
“Ihatefennel,”Millicent
yelledback.
Moredrawersbanged.
Kristymadeafaceand
angledherheadinthegeneral
directionofMillicent’s
office.
“She’lldoallright,”Kristy
saidverysoftly.
Gracesmiled.“Probably.
Meanwhile,youandIneedto
rememberthat,thanksto
Sprague,we’vegotalotof
uniqueskillstoselltoour
nextemployer.”
“Pleasedon’treciteany
moreWitherspoon
affirmations.Iwanttosavor
mygloom.”
“Okay,”Gracesaid.
Shewenttothedoorwayof
herofficeandcontemplated
thechaoticscene.Fileshad
beenyankedoutofdrawers
anddumpedonthefloor.
Therewasn’talottoretrieve,
shethought.Shehadnever
keptmuchinthewayof
personalitemsinher
workplace.Therewasn’t
roomforthatsortofthingin
aminimalistenvironment.
Shesetthecardboardbox
onthedeskandstartedto
packupherfewpersonal
possessions—thelargecoffee
mugemblazonedwiththe
WitherspoonWaylogo,the
bluewrapthatshekeptinthe
bottomdeskdrawerforthose
dayswhenthebuilding
HVACsystemwasn’t
workingwell,apairof
sneakersthatsheworeonher
lunchbreakwhenshewentto
thenearbydogparktoeather
lunchandwatchcitycanines
frolic.
Shewasintheprocessof
puttingherselectionofherbal
teabagsintotheboxwhen
sheheardthefamiliarbrittle
voiceintheouteroffice.
“Don’ttouchanything,”
NylaWitherspoonsaid
fiercely.“Notadamnthing.
Thiswasmyfather’soffice.
Ifanyofyoutakesomuchas
apen,I’llreportyoutothe
police.”
“Takeiteasy,honey.I’m
suretheyjustcamebackfor
theirpersonalthings.You
heardthesecurityguardout
inthehall.He’skeepingan
eyeontheoffice.”
GracerecognizedBurke
Marrick’svoice.Richand
resonant,itwouldhavetaken
himfarinthemotivational
speakingworld.
Shewentbacktothe
doorwayofheroffice.Nyla
wasstandinginthecenterof
thereceptionarea,vibrating
withrage.Hersharpfeatures
weretwistedwithanger.She
lookedmorethaneverlike
theWickedWitchofthe
West.
Burkeputonehandonher
shoulderasifhethoughthe
mightneedtorestrainher
fromtakingaswingatKristy.
Therewasnoquestionbut
thatNylahadlandedherself
animpressivetrophyfiancé.
Burkehadcertainlyhitthe
geneticlotterywhenitcame
tohislooks.Andheknew
howtodresstomakethe
mostofhisstartlinggreen
eyes,gleamingdarkhairand
well-tonedphysique.
Somehowawomanknewjust
bylookingathimthathe
wouldbeveryskilledinbed.
“Getoutofhere,allof
you,”Nylahissed.“Youhave
norighttobehere.”
“Thepolicecalledusin
todayandthebuilding
managertoldusthatwewere
freetopickupourpersonal
things,”Kristysaidcalmly.
“Don’tworry,there’snothing
ofvaluelefttostealexcept
thechairsandthedesks.
Goodlucksellingthemonthe
used-office-furnituremarket.”
Nylaclenchedherfingers
aroundthestrapofher
designerpurse.“Isaidget
out.Now.Everythinginhere
—everythingthatbelongedto
myfather—isminenow.I’m
thesoleheir,incaseyou
weren’tpayingattention.
LeavenoworIwillcallthe
policeandhaveallthreeof
youarrestedfortheft.”
Millicentappearedinthe
doorwayofheroffice.“Don’t
worry,Nyla,wewerejust
leaving.”ShelookedatKristy
andGrace.“Right?”
Kristysighedandpicked
uphercardboardbox.
“Right.”
Gracewentbacktoher
desk,grabbedherboxand
carrieditintotheouteroffice.
Thethreeofthemmarched
towardthedoor.
“Wait,”Nylayelped.“Let
meseewhatyou’vegotin
thoseboxes.”
Burketouchedher
shoulderagain,alittlemore
firmlythistime.“Don’t
worryaboutit,Nyla.I’msure
theyarejusttakingthethings
thatbelongedtothem.”
“Damnit,Idon’ttrustany
ofthem,”Nylawailed.
“Don’tyouunderstand?One
ofthemmurderedmyfather.”
Therewasahushed
silence.Gracemovedfirst.
ShewalkedtowardNylaand
heldoutthebox.
“Takeagoodlook,”she
said.“Alovelymugand
someherbaltea.You’re
welcometoboth.Youcan’t
havethewrap,though.My
sistergaveittomeformy
birthday.”
Nylaglancedintothebox.
Hermouthtightened.
Kristyfollowedwithher
box.“Hereyougo,Nyla.
Helpyourself.Aboxof
tissuesandaphotoofmy
family.”
“Ican’tbelievewe’re
doingthis,”Millicent
grumbled.Shecrouchedin
herstilettosandopenedthe
roll-aboardtorevealacouple
ofdesignerscarves,another
pairofstilettosandacoffee
mug.“Idon’tthinkthe
scarvesareyourcolor,Nyla.
You’rebetterinblack,don’t
youthink?”
“Leave,”Nylawhispered.
“Allofyou.Anddon’tcome
back.”
“Goodidea,”Millicent
said.
Shestraightenedandrolled
hersuitcasetowardthedoor.
GraceandKristyfollowed.
Thethreeofthemwalkedto
theelevatorinsilence.
Millicentstabbedthebutton.
“Thatwomanisareal
case,”shesaid.
“Weallknowthatshe
harboredalotofresentment
towardherfather,”Grace
remindedthem.“Nowthat
he’sgone,she’sdealingwith
thefactthatshewon’teverbe
ablefixthatrelationship.
She’sgrieving.”
Kristysnortedsoftly.
“Givemeabreak.Shenever
triedtoreconcilewithher
father.Heavenknowshe
wantedtobondwithher.But
Iswearsheenjoyednursing
herso-calledgrievances.I’m
tellingyou,she’stheonewho
murderedSprague.”
“Iwouldn’tbesurprised,”
Millicentsaid.Shestabbed
theelevatorbuttonagainand
glancedbackdownthehall
towardtheoffice.“Sheisthe
soleheir,isn’tshe?”
Gracefollowedhergaze.
“GotafeelingMr.Perfecthas
otherideas.”
Millicent’ssmilewascold.
“IagreewithKristy.I
wouldn’tbesurprisedifthey
plannedthemurdertogether.”
“Servesthemrightthatthe
moneydisappeared,”Kristy
said.
TwentyFour
T
hatwasmyjourney.
Iwouldnotbehere
tonightifnotforthe
thingsHarleyMontoyataught
me.Manyofuscanlookback
andnamethepeoplewho
gaveusnotonlyachancebut
theguidanceanddirection
thatweneededatacrucial
momentinourlives...”
Gracefinallyallowed
herselftobreathe.Juliuswas
doingwellonthepodium.
Granted,hemightnotmakeit
inthemotivationalspeakers’
worldoronthecampaign
trail.Buthewasdelivering
thenewversionoftheSpeech
fromHellwithaconviction
thatwasresonatingwiththe
audience.
Nothinggrabbedpeople’s
attentionlikeastrongdoseof
passionandJuliushad
communicatedmorethan
enoughtorivetthecrowd.
Thedarkenedballroomhad
beenhushedfromtheoutset
whenitbecameclearthatthe
after-dinnertalkwasnot
goingtoinvolvealotofdull
factsandfigures.There
hadn’tbeensomuchasa
clinkedglassortheclatterof
aspoononadishsinceJulius
hadlaunchedintothespeech.
Eventhewaitershadstopped
tolistenatthebackofthe
room.
“...Thoseofuswhohave
achievedsuccessinthe
businessworldnowfind
ourselveswithanopportunity
towieldsomerealpower—
thekindthatleavesalasting
legacy,thekindthatcan
changelives.
“Lookaroundandfindat
leastoneotherpersonwho
remindsyouofyourselfwhen
youwerestartingout.Figure
outwhatyoudidrightand
whatyoudidwrongalongthe
way.Focusonthethingsthat
youcanreflectbackonwitha
senseofpridebecauseyou
knowyoudidtherightthing,
thehonorablething,evenifit
costyousomemoneyora
contractatthetime.Offer
thoselessonstothat
individualwhoremindsyou
ofyourself,theonewhois
stilltryingtodecidewhat
kindofpersonheorshe
wantstobe.Yourmissionis
tohelpshapethefuture.”
Juliussweptupthe
notecards,turnedandwalked
acrosstheraiseddais.Ittook
acoupleofbeatsforthe
audiencetorealizethatthe
speechhadended.Agood
sign,Gracethought,satisfied.
Alwaysleavethemwanting
more.
Theapplauseexploded
acrossthebanquetroomjust
asJuliusstarteddownthe
steps.Bythetimehegotto
thefloor,halfthepeoplewere
ontheirfeet.Bythetimehe
reachedtheroundtablewhere
Gracestoodwiththeothers,
clappingmadly,therestof
theaudiencewasstanding.
Graceknewthatshewas
practicallyglowing.She
smiledatJulius.
“Thatwaswonderful,”she
saidbeneaththeroarof
applause.“Youwere
brilliant.”
“Don’tknowabout
brilliant,”hesaid.“Butat
leasttheydidn’tfallasleep
thistime.”
Withoutwarning,hepulled
herintohisarmsandkissed
her.Itwasn’talong,involved
embrace—justashort,sure,
triumphantkissthatsentthe
unmistakableimpressionof
intimacy.Itwasthesortof
kissloversexchanged.
Thecrowdlovedit.
Possiblyevenmorethanthey
lovedthespeech,Grace
thought.
Bythetimethekisswas
overshewasflushedand
breathlessandintensely
awarethateveryonearound
herwassmiling.
Juliusheldherchairfor
her.
“Thanks,”hesaidsothat
onlyshecouldhear.“Iowe
you.”
“No,”shesaidquickly.
“Yes,”hewhispered.He
grippedthebackofherchair.
“Sitdown.Please.Noone
elsecansituntilyoudo.”
“Oh,right.”Shelooked
aroundtheroom.Peoplewere
stillontheirfeetbutthe
clappingwasfading.
Definitelytimetosit.
Shedroppedintoherchair.
Juliusguideditbackinto
positionandsatdownbeside
her.Everyoneelsesankback
intotheirseats.
Amurmurof
congratulationsbrokeout
aroundtheheadtable.A
bankersittingtwoplace
settingsawaywantedtoknow
Julius’sopinionofsome
pendingfinancialregulations.
Gracereachedforherwater
glass—andnearlydroppedit
whenshefeltJulius’shand
closeoverhersunderthe
table.
Hesqueezedherfingers
gently.Thesmallaction
seemedasintimateasthe
kiss,perhapsmoreso.He’s
justthankingyouforsaving
himfromtheSpeechfrom
Hell.He’srelievedit’sover.
He’sgratefulforyour
suggestions.Don’treadtoo
muchintoalittlesqueezeof
thehand.
Themasterofceremonies
resumedcontrolofthe
audience,thankedJuliusfor
thetalkandmovedontothe
nextitemontheevening’s
agenda,theclosingremarks
andthereminderthatthe
auctionwouldstartintwenty
minutesinthemainwingof
themuseum.Last-minute
bidswerebeingaccepted.
Onceagaineveryone
stood.Agroupquickly
gatheredaroundJulius.It
seemedasifhalftheroom
waseagertoengagehimin
conversation.Manyofthe
peoplelookedvaguely
familiar.Graceknewshehad
seentheirfacesinthe
newspapersandonlocal
television.
Shestartedtoeaseoutof
thewaysothattheothers
couldgetclosertoJulius.He
didnotlookaroundbuthe
reachedbackandcaptured
herwrist.
Shestoppedandleanedin
closesothatshecouldspeak
directlyintohisear.
“Ladies’room,”she
whispered.
Atthathebrokeoffa
discussiononthesubjectof
thelackofgovernment
fundingforhigh-tech
researchandlookedather.
“I’llwaitforyouinthe
lobby,”hesaid.Hereleased
her.
“Iwon’tbelong,”she
promised.
Sheslippedoffthroughthe
crowd,awareofafew
curiousgazescastherway
beforesheescapedintothe
calmofanemptyhallway.
Shepausedtogether
bearings,spottedtheLadies
signattheendofthehalland
headedinthatdirection.
Therewerethreeother
womenatthelongrowof
sinkswhensheentered.They
noddedasiftheyknewher
andsmiled.Shewasquite
sureshehadnevermetanyof
theminherlifebutshe
smiledbackandheadedfora
stall.Thiswaswhatcameof
beingattachedtoJulius’sside
thatevening,shethought.
BackinCloudLakeitwas
easytoforgethispositionin
thePacificNorthwest
businesscommunity.
Bythetimesheexitedthe
stalltheotherwomenhad
left.Shebreathedasighof
reliefatfindingherselfalone
andopenedherclutchtotake
outalipstick.Thedoor
swungopenagainjustasshe
wasusingatissuetoblotthe
extracoloroffhermouth.
Thenewcomerwasa
strikingwomaninherearly
thirties.Herblondhairwas
pulledbackinanelegant
chignon.Sheworeasleek,
black-and-whitecocktail
dressandapairofblack
heels.
Therewasrecognitionin
hereyes,justastherehad
beenintheeyesofthethree
womenGracehad
encounteredwhensheentered
theroom.Butthiswoman
wasnotsmiling.
“You’rewithJulius
tonight,”thenewcomersaid.
Therewasathreadofgrim
determinationinhervoice,as
ifshewasconfrontingan
enemyandwaspreparedto
fight.
“Heinvitedmeto
accompanyhimthis
evening,”Gracesaid.
Thetensioninthe
atmospherewasdisturbing.
Shewaited,uncertainwhatto
donext.Thewomanwas
blockingtheroutetothe
door,perhapsbyaccidentbut
maybebydesign.
“I’mDianaHastings,”
Dianasaid.Therewasa
huskyedgeonthewords,as
ifshewastryingtosuppress
somefierceemotion.
“Julius’sex-wife.”
“Isee.”Gracelookedatthe
door.Theuneasysensation
wastransitioningtored-alert
status.Sheneededtoescape
asquicklyaspossible.
Whateverthiswasabout,she
wassureitwasnotgoingto
endwell.“I’mGraceElland.
Apleasuretomeetyou.If
youdon’tmind,Ineedtoget
backtothelobby.Someoneis
waiting.”
“Julius.You’regoingto
meetJulius.”
“Well,yes.”
“Soyou’rethenew
girlfriend.”Dianalooked
bemused.“You’renotexactly
histype,areyou?
“Ihavenoideaandyou’re
mistaken.JuliusandIarejust
friends.He’sadvisingmeon
howtobuildabusinessplan.”
Thatwassortoftrue,
Gracethought.Kisseshad
beenexchangedbutsheand
Juliuswerenotsleeping
together.Andthepartabout
thebusinessplanwasfairly
accurate.
“Juliusdoesn’tkisshis
friendsthewayhekissedyou
infrontoftheaudience
tonight,”Dianasaid.“No
mankissesawomanlikethat
unlesshewantstomakesure
thateveryonearoundhim
knowsthathe’ssleepingwith
her.”
“Oh,forpity’ssake,Mrs.
Hastings—Diana.JuliusandI
onlymetrecently.Itwasa
blinddatearrangedthrough
friends.I’mjustdoingJulius
afavortonight.Heneededa
companionforthiseventand
Iwas—uh—convenient.”
“No.”Dianashookher
headwithgreatcertaintyand
movedfartherintotheroom.
“Oh,Idon’tdoubtthathe
findsyouconvenient.Julius
isverygoodatmanipulating
peopletogetwhathewants.
ButIknowthatyoutwoare
sleepingtogether.Thatwas
obvioustonight.”
Gracefelthertemperstart
toflare.“Nottrue,butevenif
itwas,itwouldn’tbeanyof
yourbusiness,now,would
it?”
Diana’sfingerstightened
aroundhergoldleather
eveningpurse.“Idon’tgivea
damnifyou’resleepingwith
him.IsupposeIshouldfeel
somesympathy.Youmustbe
asnaiveasIwaswhenI
marriedhim.Butdoyou
knowsomething?Ican’teven
feelsorryforyou.Ijustdon’t
careifyoutwoarehavingan
affair.Isthatclear?”
Thesituationwas
escalating.Diana’sfacewas
flushed,hereyesalittlewild.
InstinctivelyGracesoftened
herownvoice.
“Veryclear,”shesaid.
“You’vemadeyourpoint,so
ifyoudon’tmind,I’llbe
leavingnow.”
Shestartedforward,
intendingtocirclearound
Dianaandmakeabreakfor
thedoor.
“No,Ihaven’tmademy
point.”Dianadidnotmove.
“You’rewelcometohim,as
farasI’mconcerned.Juliusis
cold,ruthlessandcalculating
butthat’syourproblem,not
mine.Iwantyoutotakea
messagetohim.”
“Ifyou’vegotsomething
tosaytohim,Isuggestyou
speaktohim,yourself.You
candoitrightnow.He’s
waitinginthelobby.Doyou
mindgettingoutoftheway?”
Dianadidnotbudge.She
wasgrippingherlittlepurse
sotightlyherknuckleswere
white.
“TellthatbastardthatI
knowwhathe’sdoing,”she
said.“Tellhimeveryonein
Seattleknows.”
Gracedebatedherchances
ofgettingpastDianawithout
physicalcontact.Theydidn’t
lookgood.Shefelther
temperstarttoslipagain.
“DoIlooklikea
messengerpigeon?”she
asked.
“TellJuliusthatIknowhe
wantsrevenge.Igetthat.But
heshouldtakeitoutonme—
notmyhusbandandmy
husband’sfamily.Theyare
innocent.WhatJuliusis
doingissounfair.And
pointless.It’snotasifIever
meantanythingtohim.Iwas
justonemoretransaction,an
entryinhisportfolio.Iknow
henevertrulylovedme.Tell
himthateveninmy
nightmaresIneverbelieved
thathewouldbethiscruel.”
“What?”Gracewasso
shockedshecouldnotthink
ofhowtofollowupsoshe
juststaredatDiana.
Thedooroftheladies’
roomswungopenwithout
warning,forcingDianato
moveaside.Shedidsobut
sheseemedunawareofthe
twowomenwhowalkedinto
theroombehindher.Shewas
focusedutterlyonGrace.
“Juliusisdeliberately
tryingtodestroymy
husband’scompany,”Diana
said,hervoicetightwithfury
andfrustration.“It’scommon
knowledge.Juliuswantsto
exactvengeanceonme
becauseIlefthim.Hecan’t
abidelosing.He’sArkwright
theAlchemist.Healways
wins.”
Thetwowomenwhohad
justenteredtheroomwatched
thescenewithhushed
fascination.Dianaignored
them.
Graceassessedheroptions.
Therewerenowthreepeople
blockingtheroom’sonly
escaperoute.AWitherspoon
Wayaffirmationflashed
throughhermind.Betheeye
ofthestorm.Itistheonly
waytocontrolthechaos
aroundyou.
Ittookeverythingshehad
tosmileatDianabutshe
managedthefeat.
“It’sallahuge
misunderstanding,Mrs.
Hastings,”shesaid.“The
rumorsarewrong.Ican
assureyouthatJuliusisnot
outtodestroyyourhusband’s
company.”
TearssparkedinDiana’s
eyes.“Tonightthatsonofa
bitchgaveaverynice,very
noblespeechaboutthe
importanceoflegaciesand
honorandmakinga
difference.Butwhathe’s
doingtoEdwardandthe
HastingsfamilymakesJulius
acompletehypocrite.You
tellhimthat,damnit.”
“IfyouknowJuliusaswell
asyouthinkyoudo,”Grace
said,“thenthereissomething
elseyoushouldknow.”
Dianafrowned.“What?”
“Juliusisvery,verygood
whenitcomestobusiness.
Yousaidityourself.They
callhimArkwrightthe
Alchemist.”
“Youdon’thavetotell
me.”Dianadashedtheback
ofherhandacrosshereyes,
smearinghermakeup.
“Believeme,I’mwellaware
thathe’salegendinthe
businessworld.”
“Thenstopandthinkabout
thisforaminute,”Gracesaid.
“IfJuliusArkwrightactually
hadsetouttodestroyyour
husband’scompany,Hastings
wouldhavefiledfor
bankruptcymonthsago.The
firmwouldbeinsmoking
ruins.Juliusdoesn’tmess
around.Iwouldhavethought
youwouldrememberthat
aspectofhischaracter.”
ItwasDiana’sturntostare.
Shedidnotsayaword.The
othertwowomenwerestill
frozeninplace.Foramoment
noonemoved.
Gracecouldn’tthinkof
anythingelsetosaysoshe
turnedandyankedatowelout
ofthedispenser.Shemarched
towardthetriowhostoodin
herway.
“Excuseme,”shesaid.
Shedidnotstop.Abruptly
thethreescattered.Grace
keptgoing.Sheobeyedthe
littlesignonthewallthat
advisedhertousethepaper
toweltoopenthedoor.
Tossingthetowelaside,she
escapedintothehall.
Thedoorclosedsoftlyon
thestill-life-with-bathroomfixturesintheladies’room.
Twenty-Five
W
henhesaw
Gracecoming
towardhim
throughthecrowd,heknew
thatsomethinghadhappened
intheshortspanoftimethat
shehadbeengone—
somethingunpleasant.
Sheworeasimple,sleek
blackgownwithademure
neckline,longsleevesanda
narrowskirt.Herhairwas
pulledupinaseveretwist.
Hesuspectedthatshehad
goneforalooksuitedtoan
up-and-coming
businesswoman.Buthe
thoughtshelookedmorelike
asexylittlecatburglar
weavingherwaythroughthe
knotsofpeople.Whenshe
drewcloserhesawthemixof
reliefandwarinessinher
eyes.
Hetookherarmand
instinctivelycheckedher
backtrail.Hesawnoone
whoappearedalarming.
“What’swrong?”heasked,
keepinghisvoicelow.
Shewrinkledhernose.
“I’mafraidtherewasasmall
sceneintheladies’rooma
fewminutesago.”
Thatstoppedhimfora
moment.
“Whatthehellkindof
scenecouldoccurina
restroom?”hefinallyasked.
“Iranintoyourex-wife.
Or,rather,sheranintome.I
thinkshefollowedmeinto
theladies’room.”
“Damn.”
Grace’smouthtightened.
“Braceyourself.Itgets
worse.Therewere
witnesses.”
“Allright,let’stakethis
stepbystep.First,define
scene.”
“DianaHastingscornered
meandmadesome
accusations.Itwasawkward.
She’sveryupset,Julius.
Angryandscared.Thatisnot
agoodmix.”
Hetriedandfailedtocome
upwithareasonwhyDiana
mightbeangrywithGrace.
“Shecan’tbejealousof
you,”hesaid.Hestatedthat
asthebluntfactthatheknew
itwas.“She’stheonewho
leftme,remember?Sowhy
wouldsheconfrontyou?”
“She’snotmadatme,”
Gracesaid.Hertonemadeit
clearthatshewasdoingher
levelbesttoexertpatience.“I
wasjustaplaceholder.”
“Forwhat?”
Hewasstartingtofeelasif
hewasfallingdownthe
rabbithole.Everymanknew
thatwhathappenedinthe
ladies’roomwassupposedto
stayintheladies’room.He
wasprettysuretherewasa
ruleaboutitsomewhere.
“Dianaisharboringagreat
dealoffearandfrustration
towardyou,”Gracesaid
quietly.“Shetookitouton
me—probablybecauseshe’s
terrifiedtoconfrontyou
directly.Shethinksyou’re
tryingtogetrevengeagainst
herandEdwardHastingsby
destroyingtheHastings
familyempire.”
Thepiecesofthepuzzle
finallyslippedintoplace.He
allowedhimselftorelaxa
fewnotches.
“Isee,”hesaid.“That
business.”
“Anunfortunateturnof
phrase,asithappens.”Grace
narrowedhereyes.“Yes,that
business.Shewantedmeto
deliveramessage.Shesaid
shewasawareofwhatyou’re
doingandthatshethinks
it’s...notverynice.”
Heblinked.“Thosewere
herwords?”
“Well,no,”Gracesaid
stiffly.“Moreforceful
languagewasemployed.But
that’sneitherherenorthere.”
“Don’tworry.What’s
goingonatHastingshas
nothingtodowithme.
Hastingshasbeendiggingits
owngraveforthepast
eighteenmonths.”
“IassuredDianathatyou
werenotresponsibleforthe
company’stroubles.”
Hewasstrangelygratified
bythatnews.
“Yousaidthat?”heasked.
“YoutoldherthatIwasn’t
theoneundermining
Hastings?”
“Naturally.ButIdon’t
thinkthat’sgoingtobe
enoughtodefusethe
situation.”
Hethoughtaboutthatfora
moment.“Nooffense,but
whatthehelldoyouknow
aboutHastings’sfinancial
problems?”
“Nothing,”Graceadmitted.
“Ijustpointedoutthe
obvioustoDiana.”
“What,exactly,isthe
obvious?”
“Iremindedherthatyou
areverygoodatwhatyoudo.
Itoldherthatifyouhadbeen
tryingtodestroythecompany
forgoingoneighteenmonths,
Hastingswouldhavecrashed
andburnedbynow.”
“Huh.”
Hecouldn’tthinkof
anythingtosaytothatsohe
steeredherintotheauction
room.Hewasawarethat
almosteveryeyeintheplace
followedthemtotheirseats.
Hecouldfeelthetension
vibratingthroughGrace.
“Ignorethem,”hesaidinto
herearashesatdownbeside
her.
“Easyforyoutosay.”
“Allwehavetodoisbuy
thatoverpricedchunkofart
glassthatyoupickedout
earlierandthenwe’reoutof
here.”
“Right.AndIwould
remindyouthatyouwerethe
onewhosaidwehadtobuy
thatbeautifulpieceofart
glass.”
“Isaidwehadtobuy
something.Ididn’tgivea
damnwhatwebought.”
“It’sareallybeautiful
pieceofglass,”shesaid,very
earnestnow.“I’msureitwill
looklovelyinyourcondo.”
Hestartedtotellherthat
thebowlwasgoingtobe
hers.Hehadseenthewayher
eyesglowedwith
appreciationwhenshelooked
atitearlier.Butbeforehe
couldsayanythinghe
realizedshehadgonevery
quiet.Alarmed,hegavehera
quickhead-to-toeappraisal.
“Areyouokay?”heasked.
“I’mfine,”shesaidsoftly.
Shewasfocusedonthe
stage.Hercalm,serene
expressionmadehim
suspicious.
“You’redoingsomekind
ofbreathingthing,aren’t
you?”hesaid.
“I’musingoneofthe
Witherspoonaffirmationsasa
mantra,ifthat’swhatyou
mean,yes.”
“Whichaffirmation?”
“Let’sjustsaythatIamin
mypeacefulplacewhere
negativeenergycannottouch
me.”
“Howisthatworkingfor
you?”
“Shutupandgetreadyto
bid.”
Twenty-Six
B
urkeMarrickwas
tall,sexyand
gorgeousinthe
dark,dangerouswaysof
fictionalvampires—allsharp
cheekbonesandmesmerizing
greeneyes.Mr.Perfectwas
toogoodtobetrue,Millicent
thought,buthewascertainly
interesting.
Shewatchedhimslide
gracefullyintothebooth
acrossfromher.Shewas
halfwaythroughhermartini
butshemightaswellhave
beendrinkingliquid
excitementwithatwistof
nerves.Shewas,afterall,
abouttomakeabusiness
propositiontothemanwho
had,inalllikelihood,
murderedSprague
Witherspoon.
Somehow,knowingthat
Burkewasprobablyakiller
justmadethewholethingall
themorethrilling.
“Igotyourmessage,”
Burkesaid.“Whatisthis
about?”
Hisvoicesuitedtherestof
him,vampire-softand
seductive.Everythinginside
hertightenedwith
anticipation.Thiswasthe
feelingawomangotwhen
shedecidedtohavesexwith
adevastatingstranger,she
thought.ButBurkewasn’t
anyrandompickup.Hehada
majorpartintheplayshehad
beenscriptingforthepast
fewmonths—eversincehe
hadarrived,unannounced,on
thestage.True,thestoryline
hadchangedfromtheoriginal
versionbutshewasnothingif
notadaptable.Shehad
learnedthetrickearlyonin
lifewhenshehadconcluded
thatnothingonthestreets
couldpossiblybeasbadas
lifewithaviolentstepfather
andadrug-addictedmother.
Hertheoryhadproven
correct.
ThetrendySouthLake
Unionbarwascrowded,just
asshehadknownitwouldbe
atthishour.Thedinof
conversation,laughterand
backgroundmusicwould
provideprivacyforthe
discussionsheintendedto
conductwithBurke.
“Thankyouforagreeingto
meetmehere,”shesaid.
Shewasabouttodo
somethingverydaring,
somethingshehadnever
donebefore.Butasthe
Witherspoonaffirmationsaid,
Wegrowonlywhenwedare
tomoveoutofourcomfort
zone.Shehadalways
consideredtheaffirmationsto
bedownrightsilly,albeit
greatmarketingtools.Butshe
waswillingtoadmitthatthis
particularaffirmationhad
sometruthinit.
Onethingwascertain,if
therewaseveratimetotake
risks,thiswasit.
“Yourmessagesaidthat
youwantedtotalkabout
somethingthatwasofmutual
interest,”Burkesaid.“What
isit?”
Shesmiled,satisfied.
“GoodtoknowIwasright
aboutyou,Burke.Ipegged
youasthesortofmanwho
likestogostraighttothe
bottomline.”
“Whatisthebottomlinein
thiscase?”
“Money,”shesaid.“Alot
ofit.”Shepausedfor
emphasisandloweredher
voice.“Notasmuchasyou
wouldhavehadifyourown
planshadworkedouttheway
youhadhoped,butstill,alot
ofmoney.Andan
opportunitytomakemore.”
Warinesssparkedin
Burke’seyesbuthissmile
waspolishedandperfect.
“Ihaveabsolutelynoidea
whatyou’retalkingabout,”
hesaid.
“ThenyoumustthinkI’m
asnaiveasGraceElland.”
Thewaitressappearedat
thetableandlooked
expectantlyatBurke.
“WhatcanIgetforyou?”
sheasked.
Burkeglancedat
Millicent’sglassandraiseda
brow.
“Vodkamartini,”Millicent
said.“Dry.Straightup.With
anolive.”
Burkesmiled.“Sounds
good.”
“Gotit,”thewaitresssaid.
“I’llberightbackwithyour
cocktail.”
Millicentwaiteduntilthe
womanhadvanishedintothe
crowd.Thensheidlystirred
herdrinkwiththelittleplastic
spearonwhichtheolivewas
impaled.
“Letmegiveyousome
background,”shesaid.“I
don’thaveaCPAdegree.I
neverwenttocollege.ButI
amvery,verygoodwhenit
comestojugglingmoney,and
I’mvery,verygoodwith
computers.Ihandled
Witherspoon’staxesandhis
investments.Ihadaccessto
Witherspoon’spersonalas
wellashisbusinessaccounts.
Hedidn’tliketobebothered
withthesmallstuffofdaily
life.HewasaBigPicture
guy.Ipaidhisbills—allof
them,includingthoserelated
toNyla.I’mtheonewho
transferredherallowanceinto
heraccountonthefirstof
everymonth.”
Mildsurpriseandahintof
respectgleamedinBurke’s
eyesbutheseemedmore
amusedthanalarmed.
“Interesting,”hesaid.“But
nowyou’reoutofajob.”
“Notforlong.
Witherspoon’schief
competitionwasLarson
Rayner.”
“So?”
“Larsonhasconcludedthat
theeasiestwaytotake
Witherspoon’splaceinthe
motivationalgurubusinessis
torecruittheverypeoplewho
turnedtheWitherspoonWay
intoapowerhouseoperation.”
Burkenodded.“Hiringhis
competitor’speoplemakes
sense.IassumeRaynerhas
madeyouanoffer?”
“Yes.ItoldhimIwouldbe
delightedtoacceptaposition
atRaynerSeminars.Andthen
Ithoughtaboutyou.”
“I’mlistening.”
“Iknowyouwere
blackmailingWitherspoonfor
thelastfewmonthsofhislife
becauseIwastheonewho
transferredthemoneyintoa
certainaccountearmarked
medicalexpensesonthelast
dayofeverymonth.”
“Irepeat—Ihavenoidea
whatyou’retalkingabout,”
Burkesaid.
Buttherewasanedgeon
thewords.
Sheignoredthe
interruption.“Witherspoon
wasverycleveraboutit.
Whenhecreatedtheaccount
hetoldmethatthemoney
wasbeingusedtopaythe
costsofhospicecareforan
elderlyrelative.Iwasn’t
suspiciousatfirst.
Witherspoon,being
Witherspoon,wantedthevery
bestprivatecareforhisdying
auntandhecouldaffordto
payforit.”
“Youshouldconsider
writingfictionforyournext
career,MissChartwell.”
“Please,callmeMillicent.
YouandIaregoingtobe
veryclosefriendssoon.To
continuewithmystory,you
weresmartenoughtokeep
thepaymentsreasonable—
justafewthousanddollarsa
month.Everyoneknowsthat
it’seasytospendthatkindof
moneyonprivatenursing
care.”
Burke’sfaceremained
impassiveforafewseconds.
Intheshadowylighthiseyes
wentgem-hard.Butbeforehe
couldsayanythingthe
waitressappearedwiththe
martini.
Whentheywereonce
againalone,Millicenttooka
sipofhercocktailand
loweredtheglass.She
smiled.
“Letmegiveyouthenext
chapter,”shesaid.“The
moneyyoumadewiththe
blackmailschemewasjust
penny-antestuff,wasn’tit?
Youwereafteramuchbigger
prize—Nyla’sinheritance.
Butthatseemstobeslipping
away,doesn’tit?Ifthings
don’tworkoutthewayyou
hoped,youmayhavetopull
theplugonyourcurrent
businessplanandmoveonto
anotheropportunity.”
Burkeconsideredthat
whilehedranksomeofhis
martini.
“Whatdoyouknowabout
mycurrentbusiness
objective?”heasked.
“I’mawareofthereal
valueofWitherspoon’s
estate.Butasidefromthe
nicehouseonQueenAnne,
thecarandsomeartwork,the
bulkofhisfortunehas
vanishedintothinair.”
Millicentsmiled.“The
authoritiessuspect
embezzlementbutthey’ll
neverfindthemoney.”
Burkewentverystill.“Are
yougoingtotellmethatyou
weretheonewhomadeit
disappear?”
Shetookanothersipofthe
martiniandloweredtheglass.
“I’mbrilliantwithmoney.
JustaskWitherspoon.Oh,
wait,youcan’tbecausehe’s
dead,isn’the?Whoknew
thathehadasecretaddiction
problem—gambling,tobe
precise.”
“Thankstoyoufiddling
withhisonlineaccounts?”
“Yes.”Shetriedtoassume
anairofmodestybutshewas
fairlysureshedidnot
succeed.
“Yousetitupsothatit
wouldlooklikeWitherspoon
wasembezzlingfromhisown
companytopayhisgambling
debts.”Burkewhistledsoftly.
“You’regood,Miss
Chartwell.Impressive.”
“Thankyou.Butletme
assureyouthatSpraguelefta
greatdealofmoneybehind,
andthatmoneyissafeinan
offshoreaccount.What’s
more,I’mgoodenoughto
pulloffthesameoperationa
secondtime.”
ComprehensionlitBurke’s
eyes.“WithLarsonRayner?”
Shesmiledandmunched
theolive.
“How?”Burkeasked,
suddenlyintent.
Euphoriazingedthrough
her.Thedanceofseduction
wasworking.Nowthereal
conversationcouldtake
place.SheandBurkewere
twoprostalkingshop.This
wassomuchmorethrilling
thanseducingarandombar
hookup.
“You’dbeamazedatthe
kindofmoneythatstarts
sloshingaroundwhena
successfulmotivationalguru
getsrealtraction,”shesaid.
“Andtherearesomanyways
toskimofftheextracash.”
Burkefrowned.“You’re
sayingthatRaynerisgetting
traction?”
“Hehasbeensuccessfulall
alongbutnow,with
Witherspoonoutofthe
picture,he’ssettogointothe
bigtime.He’sgotthelooks
andthecharisma.Allhe
needsisalittlefairydust
fromWitherspoon’ssecret
source.Ifeverythingworks
out,youandIcanridethe
gravytrainuntilwedecideto
getoff.”
“Whosuppliesthefairy
dust?”
Shechuckled.“Grace
Elland,ofcourse.She’sthe
onewiththemagictouch.
ShetookWitherspoontothe
top.There’snoreasonto
thinkshecan’tperformthe
sametrickagainwithLarson
Rayner.What’smore,Larson
knowsthat.Whenheoffered
meajobtoday,hetoldmehe
wasalsomakingoffersto
GraceandKristy.Hewants
Witherspoon’steam.”
“ButGraceistheonehe
needsthemost.Whatifshe
declinestheoffer?”
“Whywouldshedothat?
Sheneedsajob.Larsonwill
payherdoublewhatshe
earnedatWitherspoonand
probablyincludeasliceofthe
pie.She’lltaketheoffer,
believeme.”
Burkeswallowedsome
moreofhismartiniand
loungedintothecornerofthe
booth.
Shehadhimnow.Theone
thingaprofessionalconartist
couldnotresistwasthe
prospectofanotherbigscore.
Runningasuccessfulcon
createdarushunlikeany
other.
“Onequestionspringsto
mind,”Burkesaid.“Why
invitemetojoinyouonthe
newgravytrain?Whatdo
youwantfromme?”
“Iknowhowtoskim
moneyoffthetopofany
organization,”shesaid.“But
launderingthekindofcash
that’ssittinginthatoffshore
accountismorecomplicated.
Ineedapartner.”
“Youwantmetohelpyou
washthatmoney?”
“Andthemoneywewill
acquirefromRayner’s
operation,”shesaid.“He’s
settogoevenhigherthan
Witherspoon.Iseeour
partnershipasanongoing
enterpriseforthetwoofus.”
“WheredoesNylafitinto
thisplan?”
Millicentwavedthataside.
“Shedoesn’t.”
Burkelookedthoughtful.
“You’resayingIdon’tneed
heranylonger.”
“Iknowyouplannedto
marryherforthemoney.
Hell,thewholeoffice,
includingWitherspoon,
figuredthatout.ButNyla’s
inheritancehasvanished,
hasn’tit?I’mtheonlyone
whoknowswhereitisand
howtogetit.Allwehaveto
doisfigureouthowtobring
ithomeandscrubitclean
withoutmakingNylaorthe
copssuspicious.”
“You’restuck,aren’t
you?”Burkewasamused.
“Youreallydoneedsomeone
tolaunderthemoney.”
“EitherthatorIhavetogo
liveonsomeno-nameisland
fortherestofmylife.Ilikeit
here.Notmuchinthewayof
shoppingonthoseno-name
islands.”
“I’dwantaguaranteeofa
fifty-fiftysplit.”
“Ofcourse.”Millicent
raisedherglass.“LikeIsaid,
partners.”
Burketappedonefingeron
thetable.“Whatmakesyou
thinkyoucantrustme?”
“Isn’titobvious?Weneed
eachother.”
Hedranksomemoreofhis
martiniwhileheconsidered
that.Itwastimetotightenthe
leash,shethought.
“Here’sthething,Burke.
I’vegotproofthatyouwere
blackmailingWitherspoon
becauseI’mtheonewho
madethosemonthly
payments.Itracedthemto
thataccountinNewYork
monthsago.Thatevidence
willbesenttothepoliceifI
wereto,say,sufferan
unfortunateaccident.”
Millicentusedherfingersto
makeaveryprecisetriangle
aroundthebaseofhermartini
glass.“Proofofblackmail
willputyourightatthetopof
thesuspectlistinthe
Witherspoonmurder.”
Burkelookedimpressed.“I
dobelievethatwehavea
partnership.”
“Excellent.”Shepushed
heremptyglassasideand
reachedforherpurse.
“Wouldyoucaretogo
somewheremoreprivateto
celebrate?”
“Wheredoyousuggest?”
“Myapartmentiswithin
walkingdistance.”
Burkesmiledslowly.“That
soundsveryconvenient.”
TwentySeven
Y
oucan’tjustgive
methisgorgeous
bowl,”Gracesaid.
“It’stoomuch.”
“Toomuchwhat?”Julius
asked.
“Toomuchofagift,”she
shotback.
Hedroveintotheparking
spaceinthecondogarage,
shutdowntheengineand
turnedtolookather.
Shesatinthepassenger
seat,cradlingthecarefully
wrappedartglasswithboth
handsasifitwasapriceless
gem.Itwasn’tpriceless.
Granted,hehadjustpaidfar
toomuchforaglassbowl
thatcouldn’tevenbeusedto
servesalad,butitwasn’t
priceless.
Whatwaspricelesswasthe
lookonGrace’sfacewhenhe
handedtheartglasstoher
andtoldherthatitwashers.
Shewasstillarguing.
“WhatamIgoingtodo
withthatbowl?”heasked
patiently.“I’mnotintoart
glass.You’retheonewho
pickedoutthedamnthingso
I’massumingyoulikeit.”
“Iloveit.It’sgorgeous.I
canseeitnowdisplayed
undertherightlightinthe
rightplaceinaroom.Itwill
glowlikeabig,multicolored
diamond.”
“Fine.Goaheadand
displayitanywayyouwant.”
Shestaredathim,shocked.
“Youmeanyoudon’tlikeit?
Youshouldhavesaid
somethingwhenwewere
lookingattheauctionitems
beforetheevent.Iwould
neverhavechosenapiece
thispricey.”
“It’snotliketherewasany
cheaparttheretobidon.
Look,it’saglassbowl.It’s
nice.Butartisnotmything.”
“Artisgoodforyou.It
stimulatesthesenses.”
Helookedatherforalong
moment,savoringthesightof
hersittingthereinhiscar.In
afewminutesshewouldbe
standinginthefronthallof
hiscondo.Itwasafter
midnightandneitherofthem
hadwantedtomakethehourlongdrivebacktoCloud
Lake.Theonlyquestionwas
whetherGracewouldbe
sleepingintheguestbedroom
orinhisbed.
Thelow-gradefeverthat
hadbeenheatinghisblood
sincethenighthemether
roseacouplemoredegrees.
“Trustme,”hesaid,“my
sensesarealreadyrunningin
overloadcondition.NotsureI
couldhandleanymore
stimulation.”
Herbrowssnapped
together.“Whatareyou
talkingabout?”
Hedecidednottoanswer
thatquestion.Instead,hegot
outoftheSUV,circled
behindthevehicleand
openedthedooronthe
passengerside.
Gracehandedthepackage
tohimwithbothhands.
“HoldthiswhileIgetout,”
sheinstructed.“Andfor
goodness’sake,becareful
withit.”
Hetuckedthepackage
underonearm.Thebowlwas
surprisinglyheavy.He
remindedhimselfthatlarge
hunksofthickglasswere
alwaysweightyobjects.
Withhisfreehand,he
assistedGraceoutofthehigh
frontseat.Hewaslearningto
enjoywatchingherbailoutof
thevehicle.Sheneverdidit
thesamewaytwicebutitwas
alwaysinteresting.Tonight
herstilettoheelsmadethe
disembarkationprocess
somethingofahigh-wire
balancingact.Shenegotiated
theexitwithhercustomary
fluidgrace,bouncingalittle
onthetoeofherrightfoot
beforeshegotbothfeeton
theground.
“Youneedaladderforthis
sucker,”shesaid.
Hesmiled.“I’vebeen
meaningtoaskyouifyou
everstudieddance.”
“Notunlessyoucount
aerobicexerciseclasses,”she
said.“Why?”
Heclosedthedoorofthe
SUV.“Justwondered.You
movelikesomeonewho’s
hadsometraining.”
“Here,givemethatbowl.”
Shetookthepackagefrom
him.
Hepocketedthekeys.“I
wasn’tgoingtodropit.”
“Maybenotbutit’sclear
thatyouarenotgoingtotreat
thisworkofartwiththe
properrespect.”Sheheldthe
packageinbothhands.
“Besides,someonehasto
handlethesuitcases.”
“Thisistrue.”
Heopenedthecargobayof
thevehicleandsmiledalittle
atthesightofthetwobags
inside.Helikedthewayhis
duffellookedsittingnextto
Grace’slittleroll-aboard
suitcase.Itwasasifthey
belongedtogether,he
decided.
Hehauledbothbagsoutof
theSUVandclosedtherear
door.
“Elevator’sthatway,”he
said.Heangledhisjawto
indicatethecenterofthe
garage.
Shestartedtowardthe
stairwellandelevatorlobby,
clutchingthepackagewith
greatcare.
“Youknow,ifyoureally
don’twanttokeepthisbowl
youcouldgiveittooneof
yourrelatives,”shesaid.“Or
aclosefriend.”
Herrefusaltoacceptthe
bowlasagiftwasstartingto
annoyhim.“It’syours.”
“Okay,okay,youdon’t
havetobitemyheadoff.”
“Ididn’tbiteyourhead
off,”hesaid.“I’mjuststating
afact.Thedamnbowlis
yours.”
“Thankyou.”
Herexcruciatinglypolite
tonewasevenmoreirritating.
“Ican’tbelievewe’re
arguingoveradamnbowl,”
hesaid.
“Itisalittleweird,isn’tit?
Thethingis,I’venever
ownedanexpensivepieceof
art.”
“NeitherhaveI,atleastnot
asfarasIknow.Theinterior
designerwhodidmycondo
spentafortuneonwhatshe
calledfinishingtouchesbutI
don’tthinkanyofitqualifies
asart.Justexpensivestuff.”
“You’rerich,”Gracesaid.
“Ifyoudon’tcollectart,what
doyoucollect?”
“Money,Iguess.I’ve
neverhadtheurgetocollect
anythingelse.”
“LikeIsaid,you’rebored.”
Hewasabouttotellher
thattheonethinghehadnot
beenlatelywasbored—not
aroundher—butthesoundof
rushingfootstepsechoingin
thestillnessofthegarage
stoppedhimcold.Shadows
shiftedintheyellowglareof
thefluorescents.
Twomendressedinblack
clothingexplodedoutofthe
darkvalleybetweenacarand
theconcretewall.Onemoved
towardGrace.Thesecond
attackergrippedalengthof
pipeinbothhands.Helunged
atJulius.
Juliusdroppedtheduffel
andthesuitcaseand
sidesteppedtheswinging
pipe.Thelengthofheavy
metalslicedharmlessly
throughtheairattheplace
hisribcagehadbeena
heartbeatearlier.
Theattackerstaggered
backastep,caughthis
balanceandtriedforanother
swing.Juliusrolledonce
acrossthefloor,slamming
intohisassailant’slegs.There
wasasolidthudandagrunt
whenthemanhittheground.
Juliusgottohisfeet,
grabbedthepipeand
wrencheditoutofthe
attacker’shand.Themanon
thegroundbarelynoticed.He
wastoobusyclutchingathis
midsectionandtryingtoget
someairintohislungs.
Juliuswhirledaroundand
sawthatthefirstmanhad
Gracebackedupagainstthe
wall.Heheldthepointofa
knifeatherthroat.
“Don’tmove,bitch,”the
knifemanhissed.“Wejust
wanttohavealittlequality
timewithyourboyfriend.It’ll
allbeoverrealquick.”
“It’sovernow,”Grace
said.ShelookedatJulius.
Theknifeman
automaticallyglancedover
hisshoulder.Helooked
stunnedwhenherealizedthat
hiscompanionwasgroaning
onthefloorofthegarage.
“Don’tmoveanother
inch,”hesnarledatJulius.
“I’llcutthebitch’sthroat.I
swearI’lldoit.”
Juliusknewthatpanicand
adrenalineweredrivingthe
bastardnow.Thesituationon
thegroundhadshiftedon
him.Heandhispartnerwere
rapidlylosingcontrol.
Gracewasstillclutching
thepackagethatcontained
theartglass.Sherammedit
straightupinfrontofherself,
raisingithigh.Theforceof
theupwardmomentum
pushedtheattacker’sarm
aside,brieflydeflectingthe
blade.
Shekickedtheknifeman
inthegroin,thetoeofher
stilettostrikingitstargetwith
aspeedandaccuracythattold
Juliusitwasnotthefirsttime
shehadpracticedthe
maneuver.
Butshecouldnotkeepher
balanceintheheels.She
droppedthepackageonthe
concretefloorandwentdown
hardnexttoit.
Theknifemanstaggered
backward,clutchingathis
privates.Juliuskickedhis
legsoutfromunderhimand
grabbedhisarm,twisting
hard.
Theknifemanscreamed.
Hisbladeclatteredonthe
concretefloor.
Gracekickedoffhershoes,
scrambledtoherfeetand
sprintedtowardthefirealarm
onthewall.Shepulledit
hard,fillingthegaragewith
screechingnoise.
Thedoorofthestairwell
burstopen.Juliussawthe
familiarfaceofthenight-shift
doorman,Steve.
“Thecopsareontheway,”
Steveyelledabovetheshrill
soundofthealarm.
Thecombinationofthat
newsandtheunrelenting
shrieksactedlikeatonicon
thetwoassailants.Theone
whohadwieldedthepipe
staggeredtohisfeetwith
astonishingalacrityand
chargedtowardthealley
door.
Theknifemantriedto
followbutJuliusgrabbedhim
andswunghimaround.
“Youpulledaknifeon
her,”Juliussaid.“That’snot
allowed.”
Hedeliveredtwoquick,
hardchops.Theknifeman
wentdownagain.Thistime
hestayeddown.
Juliusbrieflyconsidered
tryingtosnagtheonewho
hadbroughtthepipetothe
partybutgaveitupasalost
cause.Thebastardhadahead
start.
“We’vegotthesecurity
cameravideotogivetothe
cops,”Steveshoutedoverthe
alarm.“Isawthemattackyou
butittookmeafewminutes
togetdownhere.”
Juliusnoddedandlooked
atGrace.Shewasbending
downtoexaminethepackage
thatcontainedwhatwasleft
oftheartglass.Thelumpy
conditionofthewrapping
paperwasmutetestimonyto
thefactthatthebowlhadnot
survivedinonepiece.
Shestraightenedand
turnedaround.Juliusopened
hisarms.Shewalkedstraight
tohim.Hehuggedherclose.
“Itwassobeautiful,”she
saidagainsthischest.
“Yes,itwas,”hesaid.“I
waswrongaboutit.”
“Howisthat?”
“Ithoughtthatitwould
neverserveanyuseful
purpose.”
Sirenssoundedinthe
distance.
TwentyEight
Y
ouknow,”Julius
said,“Iwas
hopingthis
eveningwouldendsomewhat
differently.”
Gracemethiseyesinthe
mirror,awarethather
emotionswerealloverthe
place.Amongotherthings
shewasexperiencingan
irrationalurgetolaugh.It
wastheadrenaline,she
thought,or,rather,the
aftereffects.Thefiercerush
ofbiochemicalsthathad
floodedherbloodstream
duringthecourseofthe
assaultinthegaragewas
fading,leavinghershakyand
unnerved.
Shewasprettysurethat
Juliushadtobebuzzedon
similardiscordantsensations
butifthatwastrue,hewas
doingamuchbetterjobof
concealingit.Morepractice,
maybe.
Thecamouflageofcalm
controlwasnotquiteperfect,
however.Shewassureshe
coulddetectalittleiceand
fireinhiseyes.
Theywerestandingsideby
sideatthetwinsinksinthe
masterbathofJulius’scondo.
Thepolicehadtakentheir
statements,arrestedtheknife
mananddeparted.Theyhad
promisedtocallwithany
updates.
ShecontemplatedJulius’s
reflectioninthemirrorand
wonderedwhyhelookedso
disturbinglysexy.Thelast
thingsheoughttobethinking
aboutatthatmomentwas
sex.Butshefoundherself
fascinated,notjustbythe
heatinhiseyes,butbysmall
details—hisrumpledhairand
thecarelesswayhisblacktie
hungloosearoundhisneck.
Enroutetothehuge
bathroomhehadremovedhis
tuxjacketandtosseditover
thebackofachair.His
ebony-and-goldcufflinks
weresittingontheblack
granitecountertop,gleaming
intheglowofthebathroom
lightfixtures.Thecollarof
hiscrispwhiteshirtwas
open,revealingahintofdark,
curlingchesthair.Therewere
somesmudgeshereandthere
butonthewholehereminded
herofJamesBondaftera
tusslewithoneofthebad
guys.
Breathe.
Notthatshewashavingan
anxietyattack,notyet,atany
rate.Thatwouldprobably
comelater,inthemiddleof
thenight.Stupiddamn
nerves.Sheremindedherself
thatshehadpackedher
emergencymeds.
Onedecisionhadjustbeen
made—thebigdecisionofthe
day—theissueofwhereshe
wouldspendthenight.She
wouldhavetosleepin
Julius’sguestbedroom.She
couldnotabidethethoughtof
wakingupinhisbedinthe
midstofafull-blownpanic
attack.Notthemostromantic
scenario.Ifshewasgoingto
succumbtoacaseofwhatthe
Victorianshadcalled
shatterednerves,shewanted
tobealonewhenithappened.
Butinthemeantime,she
couldnotseemtostop
thinkingaboutsex.She
wantedtohurlherselfinto
Julius’sarmsagain,justas
shehadfollowingtheassault
downstairs.Butthistimeshe
wantedtocarryhimoffinto
hisbedroomandthrow
herselfontopofhim.
Breathe.
Sheexhaledslowly,with
somecontrol,andtookstock
ofherownimageinthe
mirror.Shedidnotlookatall
sexy.Shelookedlikeshe’d
beendraggedthrougha
coupleofalleysanddumped
onabackstep.
Thehairshehadso
carefullypinnedupintoa
sophisticatedknothadcome
downinthecourseofthe
short,violentstruggleinthe
garage.Herdresswasruined.
Theskirthadrippedopenat
theseamandsplithalfwayup
onethigh.Shefiguredthat
hadprobablyhappenedwhen
shekickedtheknife-wielding
attackerbetweenthelegs.
Thesidesandbackofthe
garmentweretornand
stainedwithgaragefloordirt.
Sheknewthatwhenshetook
thedressoffshewouldfind
bruisesonherhipand
shoulder.Shehadscraped
onekneeontheconcrete.It
oozedalittleblood.Theheel
ofherleftpalmwasraw.The
solesofherbarefeetwere
coveredingrime.
Shewasuncomfortablebut
therealpainfromherbruises
andscrapeshadn’tstruckyet.
Thatwouldprobablycome
later,likethenightmareand
theanxietyattack.
Inadditiontosex,she
longedforashower.She
understoodthelatter.She
neededashower.Itwasthe
desiretoravishJuliusthatshe
couldnotwrapherhead
around.Shehadneverwanted
tobeinaman’sarmstheway
shewantedtobeinJulius’s
armstonight.
Breathe.
Shegrippedthefrontofthe
sinkwithbothhandsto
steadyherself.
“How,exactly,didyou
expecttheeveningtoend?”
sheasked.
“Hell,Idon’tknow,”
Juliussaid.Heconsideredthe
questionbriefly.“Maybewith
anightcaptocelebratethe
factthatforthefirsttimeever
noonefellasleepduringthe
SpeechfromHell.”
“Anightcap,”sherepeated
withoutinflection.
Shefocusedonthat
thought,keenlyawarethat
Juliuswaswatchingherinthe
mirror.Hismaskofcool
controlslippedalittlemore,
revealingthestarkhungerin
hiseyes.Thestirring
sensationdeepinsidewas
becomingintense.The
atmospherecrackledwith
tension.Shetightenedher
griponthesink.
“Don’ttellmeyou
couldn’tuseadrink,”Julius
said.“Isureashellneed
one.”
Shenoddedslowly.“A
drinkisanexcellent
suggestion.ButIthinkIneed
ashowerfirst.”She
shuddered.“Thatcreepinthe
garagetouchedme.”
Julius’seyeswentstonecold.
“Theywerewaitingfor
us,”hesaid.“Wewerenot
justacoupleofrandom
victims.Theywerethere
becauseofus.”
Sheshivered.“Theone
withtheknifesaidsomething
aboutspendingalittlequality
timewithmyboyfriend.”
“Unfortunately,thatleaves
alotofroomfor
interpretation.You’vegota
stalkerbutI’vegotafewold
enemiesofmyown.”Julius
frownedinthoughtandthen
shookhishead.“Can’tsee
anyofthemresortingtolowendstreettalentlikethatpair
inthegarage,though.The
peopleI’veleftontheground
canaffordbetter.”Hepaused.
“Ortheywoulddothejob
themselves.”
“I’msureneitherofthose
twomenwasmystalker.I’ve
nevermeteitherofthem.”
“Doesn’tmeansomeone
didn’thirethemtotakeme
outofthepicture,”Juliussaid
somewhatabsently.
Shestaredathisreflection,
shockandhorrorshifting
throughherashismeaning
sunkin.
“Becauseofme,”she
whispered.“I’mtheonewho
broughtthosetwodownon
us.”
Hemetherstunnedeyesin
themirror.
“No,”hesaid.“Not
anotherdamnwordabout
beingresponsible.Thosetwo
thugsandwhoeverhired
them—ifitturnsoutthatthey
werehired—areresponsible.
Nooneelse.Understood?”
Thewordsheldthe
implacableforceofa
command.
Shelookedathis
reflection.“Julius.”
Heputhishandsonher
shouldersandturnedher
towardhim.Hismouthcame
downonhers.Hekissedher
witharuthless,drivingneed
thatactedlikeanaccelerant
onaflame.
Shedidnottrytoresist.
Shedidnotwanttoresist.
“Yes,”shesaidagainsthis
mouth.“Yes.”
Sheclutchedathim,trying
towrapherselfaroundhim.
Sheheardthetornseamof
herdressripfartherupher
thigh.
Juliustookthekisstoa
deeper,evenmoreexplosive
level.Shefelthishandsather
waistandthentheywent
lower.Hefoundtheripped
seam,grippeddelicatefabric
andtoreitallthewaytothe
topofherthigh.Hepushed
thetatteredhemofthe
garmentuptoherwaist,
exposingthethintriangleof
laceandsilk.
Thenextthingsheknewhe
wascuppingherbottomand
liftingherupagainsthis
erection.Shecouldfeelthe
hardlengthofhimbeneath
thefabricofhistrousers.
Shewasbreathingfaster
now,inthegripofarushthat
wasunlikeanythingshehad
everexperienced.Sheneeded
thereleasethatsheknew
Juliuscouldgiveher.Apart
ofherwasshockedbyher
volatilereactionbutanother
part—thepartthatwasinthe
ascendantatthatmoment—
wasthrilled.Thiswasanew
sideofherself,asideshehad
alwayssuspectedexisted,one
shehadsearchedforfrom
timetotimeinthepastbut
neverfound.Thiswasreal
passion,thekindthatmade
loversdomad,crazy,overthe-topstuffintheheatofthe
moment.
Shestruggledwiththe
frontofJulius’sshirtand
finallygotitopen.
Fascinated,shespreadher
fingersacrosshischest,
savoringthewarmthofhis
skinandthecontoursofthe
musclesbeneath.Heheldher
easily,asifshewas
weightless.
Hesetheronherfeetagain
justlongenoughtolowerthe
zipperatthebackofher
dress.Hepeeledthefrontof
thegowndowntoherwaist
andtuggedthelong,narrow
sleevesoffherarms.
Hehadherbraunhooked
beforesherealizedhis
intention.Hishandsclosed
aroundherbreasts,hispalms
deliciouslyroughonher
nipples.
Shewasintenselyawareof
everythingabouthim.She
couldtellfromtheharshrasp
ofhisbreathingthathewas
fightingforcontrolandshe
gloriedinherownfeminine
power.Butatthesametime
shewaslostinthewavesof
excitement.Shecouldnot
waittoseewhatawaitedher
attheendofthewildride.
Hegothisfingersinside
thebikinipantiesandmoved
hispalmsdownoverherhips,
sweepingawaythelacyscrap
offabric.Hetossedthe
pantiesasideandwrappedhis
handsaroundherwaist.
Heliftedherupagainand
setherontheedgeofthe
counter.Theshockofthe
coolgraniteagainsther
backsidemadehertakea
sharpbreath.
“Cold,”shesaid.
“Notforlong,”he
promised.
Sheheardthewhisperof
leatheragainstbrassand
knewthathehadjust
unfastenedhisbelt.Thenext
thingsheheardwastheslide
ofhiszipper.Whenshe
lookeddownshesawthe
hard,heavylengthofhim.
Forthefirsttimeshe
experiencedsomethingthat
mighthaveconstituteda
qualm.
“Oh,my,”shesaid.
Heopenedanearbydrawer
andtookoutasmallfoil
packet.Hegotthepacket
openandquicklysheathed
himself.
Heputhishandsonher
knees,partedherlegsand
movedbetweenherthighs.
Whenhefoundhermelting
coresheshudderedand
clutchedhisshoulders.He
strokedslowly,deliberately
againstherclitoris.She
strainedtowardhim,tryingto
capturehisfingersinsideher.
Sheneededhiminsideher.
Heteasedherunmercifully
untilshewassodesperate,so
sensitizedthatshecould
scarcelybreathe.
“Youaresowet,”hesaid
againstherthroat.“Soready
forme.”
“Now,”sheordered.She
usedhergriponhisshoulders
tourgehimcloser.“Inside
me.Doitnow.”
Shemadeitanorder,nota
plea.
Heguidedhimselfintoher,
takinghistimesothatshe
wasawareofeveryinchof
him.Neverhadshefeltso
stretched,sofull.She
hoveredonthebrinkofa
releasethatsheknewwould
changeeverything.Allthe
questionsshe’dhadaboutthis
secretsideofherselfwere
abouttobeanswered.
Shetightenedaroundhim.
Herheadtippedback.She
closedhereyesagainstthe
glareofthebathroomlights
anddugherruinednailsinto
themusclesofhisshoulders.
Juliusgroaned,anchored
herrearwithhishandsand
begantopistonwithinher.
Shefoughthimwhenhe
retreated,closingherselfever
moretightlyaroundhiminan
efforttomakehimstaydeep
insideher.
Buthewasasdetermined
tocontrolthecadenceasshe
wasandhewassomuch
stronger.
Stronger—yes—butshe
knewthathewasalso
vulnerable.Shecouldfeelthe
rigidtensioninthemusclesof
hisshoulders.Sheknewthat
everytimeshestrainedto
holdhimhewasforcedtouse
morecontroltomaster
himself.
Amomentlaterthe
wildfireofherreleaseflashed
throughher.Juliuswaspulled
intothevortex.Sheheldhim
closeashedroveintoherone
lasttime.
Thehoarsegrowlofhis
exultantsatisfactionechoed
againstthetiledwalls.He
throbbedheavilyinsideher
foranendlessmoment.
Whenitwasoverhe
saggedoverher,bracinghis
handsonthecounteroneither
sideofherhips.Hesuckedin
deepbreathsforamoment.
Thenheraisedhishead.
“That,”hesaid,“washow
Ihadhopedtheevening
wouldend.”
TwentyNine
J
uliuseasedoutofher
body.Shewinceda
littlebecauseshewas
stillsosensitiveandhewas
sobig.Hesearchedherface
andthenliftedhergently
downoffthecounter.Her
legsfeltweak.Shegrabbed
theedgeofthesinktosteady
herself.
“Areyouallright?”he
asked.
Shemanagedaweak
smile.“Asidefromthefact
thatIlooklikeI’vebeenrun
overbyatruck,doyou
mean?Absolutely.”
“Gotanaffirmationfor
this?”
“HowaboutThetruckthat
doesn’tkillyouonlymakes
youstronger?”
Henoddedwithasageair.
“Averyupliftingthought.”
Hecheckedhisown
reflection,grimacedand
startedtopeeloffhisrumpled
andstainedshirt.
“Youmayhavebeenhitby
atruck,”hesaid,“butIlook
likeIwasstandingonthe
trackswhenthetrainwent
past.”
Thecrazyurgetolaugh
roseupinsideheragain.She
managedtocontrolitbutshe
couldnothelpsmilingat
Julius’sreflection.
“Youdon’tlooksobadfor
amanwhocaughtabadguy
thisevening,”shesaid.
“Onlyafteryoutookhim
downwiththatshottohis
balls.Andinstilettos,no
less.”Forthefirsttime,Julius
smiledwithicysatisfaction.
“IhatetosaythisbecauseI
sureashelldon’twantto
encouragethatkindof
exercise,butwemadeadamn
goodteamtonight.”
Shesmiled,too.“Yes,we
did.”
Julius’ssmilevanished.He
watchedherintently.“Where
didyoulearnthoseselfdefensemoves?”
“Itwaspartofthetherapy
thatMomprescribedafterI
stumbledintotheTrager
murder.Iwashavingtrouble
sleeping.Nightmares.”
“Sure,”hesaid,asifsleep
thatwasrippedapartby
imagesofbloodandpanic
werecommonplaceandonly
tobeexpected.
“Isawashrinkforawhile
butMomthoughttheselfdefenseclasseswouldgive
measenseofcontrol.I’ve
keptupwiththetraining.”
“Itshows,”Juliussaid.
“Youmovelikesomeone
whohasstudieddanceor
gymnasticsormartialarts.”
“I’mnottheonlyonewho
hashadsometraining,”she
said.“You’regood.Very
good.TheMarines?”
“That’swhereitstarted.
AfterwardIdidsomemartial
artstostayinshape.Like
you,Ikeepupwiththe
exercises.”Juliuspaused.
“BackinthedaywhenIwas
Harley’sfixer—”
“Youmeanwhenyouwere
hisexecutiveadministrative
assistant,”sheputin
smoothly.
Thatsurprisedashort,
harshlaughoutofJulius.
“Right,”hesaid.“WhatI
wasabouttosayisthatfixing
thingsforHarleyMontoya
occasionallygotcomplicated.
Someofhisdevelopment
projectswerelocatedin
regionsaroundtheworld
whereyoucouldnotalways
countonthesupportoflocal
lawenforcement.Inaddition,
wheneverHarleytraveledto
foreignjobsiteshewasa
targetforkidnappers.
Grabbingforeignexecutives
andholdingthemforransom
isabigbusinessinanumber
ofplacesaroundtheglobe.”
Shenodded.“Youwere
Harley’sfixerandhis
bodyguard.Thatexplainsa
lot.”
“FirsttimeI’vegotteninto
afighthereinSeattle,
though.”Juliusglanceddown
athiscrumpledshirt.“Can’t
rememberthelasttimeIhad
troubleinaparkinggarage.”
Shesmiledfaintly.“They
dosaythatparkinggarages
aredangerousplaces.”
“Yeah,I’veheardthat.”He
studiedher.“Areyousure
you’reokay?”
Sheturnedbacktoher
imageinthemirror.“Ineeda
shower.”
“SodoI.”Heglancedat
thebig,elegantlytiledshower
withitsarrayofgleaming
faucets,handsprayersand
waterjets.“Ithinkthere’s
roomenoughfortwo.”
“Youthinkthere’sroom
fortwo?”
“Neveractuallyconducted
anexperiment.”
Shesmiled,pleased.“No
timelikethepresent.”
Thirty
M
illicentpulled
thetumbled
sheetsup
aroundherwaistandwatched
thevampiredress.Thesex
hadbeeneverybitasgoodas
shehadknownitwouldbe,
fueledbytheknowledgethat,
eventhoughshecontrolled
himfornow,hewasstill
dangerous.
Burkefinishedfastening
hisbeltandcametostandat
thesideofthebed.
“Thatwasdefinitely
interesting,”hesaid.
“Yes,itwas.”She
stretchedherarmshighover
herheadandyawned.
“Maybewe’lldoitagain
sometime.”
Hesmiled.“I’lllook
forwardtoit.”
Shesettledherselfmore
comfortablyonthepillows,
notbotheringtocoverher
breasts.Shehad,afterall,
paidalotofmoneyforthem.
Theywereworksofartand
shelikedtodisplaythemin
thebestpossiblelight.
“Onelastquestion,”she
said.
Hepausedatthedoorof
thebedroom.“Whatisit?”
“Iknowthatyouwere
blackmailingWitherspoon
butIwasn’tabletofindout
whatyouhadonhim.Careto
satisfymycuriosity?Imust
admithealwaysstruckmeas
squeakyclean.”
“Nooneissqueakyclean.”
Burkesmiled.“Leastofall
SpragueWitherspoon.
ShortlybeforeIstarteddating
Nyla,Ididmyresearch.I
stumbledintothefamily
secretalmostbyaccident.”
“Well?Whatisthe
Witherspoonfamilysecret?”
“Longbeforehereinvented
himselfasSprague
Witherspoon,risingstarof
themotivationalseminar
world,Witherspoonwas
someoneelse—Nelson
Clydemore—small-timecon
and,eventually,ex-con.”
Ittookasecondbeforethe
pennydropped.Thenshe
startedtolaugh.
“Oh,that’srich,”shesaid.
“That’sjustsoentertaining.If
onlyKristyandGraceknew.
Theybothbelievedthathe
wastherealdeal—atrue
believerinthepositivethinkingcrap.”
“Clydemoredidthreeyears
forfraud,”Burkesaid.
“Accordingtothecourt
records,heranapyramid
scheme.Itallfellapartwhen
someofhisclientsgot
suspiciousofresultsthatwere
toogoodtobetrueand
contactedtheFeds.
Clydemorewenttoprison
andservedhistime.Whenhe
gotoutheassumedanew
identity.HebecameSprague
Witherspoon.”
“Amazing.DoesNyla
knowaboutherfather’s
past?”
“No.Shewasbornafterhe
metamorphosedinto
Witherspoon,Motivational
Guru.There’snoindication
thatNyla’smotheror
Sprague’ssecondwifeknew
thetruth,either.”
“Thatexplainswhy
Witherspoonpaidblackmail,”
Millicentsaid.“You
threatenedtorevealhispast.
Itwouldhavedestroyedhis
business.”
“Sure.Butthat’snotwhy
hepaidoffontimeevery
month.”
Millicentsmiled.“He
wantedtokeepthesecret
fromNyla.”
“Heknewthatifhewas
exposedasanex-conwho
hadoncerunpyramid
schemes,shewouldhave
beendevastatedandpublicly
humiliated.Theirrelationship
wasalreadytense.Hedidn’t
wanthertobecomeanymore
bitterandresentfultoward
him.”
“Isee.”Millicentmadea
face.“Familydynamicscan
getveryweird.”
“Yes,”Burkesaid,“they
can.Butsometimestheycan
bequiteprofitable.”
Hedisappearedintothe
livingroom.Amomentlater
sheheardthedoorclose
behindhim.
Definitelydangerous,she
thought.Butthen,itwouldn’t
benearlyasmuchfunifthere
wasnotsomeriskinvolved.
Shepushedasidethe
covers,roseandwentintothe
bathroomtocleanup.When
shewasfinishedsheputona
robeandslippersandsettled
downwithherlaptop.
Managingalotofmoneyin
variousfakeaccounts
designedtothrowthe
authoritiesofftrackwashard
work.
Thesecurityintercom
buzzedsometimelater.She
smiled.Hehadcomebackfor
more.Nosurprisethere.She
wasverygoodatsexandmen
gotaddictedveryquicklyto
goodsex.
Shecloseddownthe
laptop,gottoherfeetand
crossedtheroomtowelcome
backthevampire.
Thirty-One
J
uliusstoodbeneathone
oftheshowersand
watchedGraceenjoy
theblastsofhotwaterthat
werestrikingherfromall
directions.Shelookedsleek
andsexywithrivulets
runningoffthepointsofher
delicatebreastsand
disappearingintothecrease
thatdividedherbuttocks.Her
hairwasplasteredtoherhead
andhereyeswereclosed
againsttheforceofthewater.
Hewantedtobraceher
againstthewallandlose
himselfinheragainbuthe
knewthatshewasexhausted.
Heshouldhavebeen
exhausted,too.Andhewould
be,eventually,heassured
himself.Thehard,fast,
amazingsexhadtakenoff
someoftheedgebutitwould
beawhilebeforehecould
sleep.
Hewascomingdownfrom
thewildfirehighgeneratedby
thecombinationofthebrutal
encounterinthegarageand
theprimalmatingactthathad
followed.Butnowhewas
awareofanothersensation,
onethatwasequally
elemental.
“I’mhungry,”hesaid.
“AndI’mreadyforthat
drink.Whataboutyou?”
Graceopenedhereyes.He
couldseehertakingstockof
hercurrentstatus.Atraceof
surprisecrossedherface.
“I’mhungry,too,”she
said.Shewrinkledhernose.
“Weird.”
“Notwhenyouconsider
howmuchenergywe
expendedthisevening.”He
movedoutoftheshower,
allowinghimselfonelast
surveyofhisprivate
mermaid.Shelookedsogood
standingthere,nude,inthe
artificialwaterfall.
Hemadehimselfturnaway
andfinishtowelingoff.When
hewasdonehewrappedthe
towelaroundhiswaist.
Absently,heusedhisfingers
torakehishairstraightback
fromhisforehead.Asenseof
unfinishedbusinessmadehim
pause.
Graceturnedoffthe
shower.Hehandedhera
freshtowelandwatched
whileshehastilywrappedit
aroundherself.Whenshe
realizedhewasstilllooking
athersheraisedherbrows.
“Somethingwrong?”she
asked.“Asidefromthefact
thatwegotmuggedtonight,
thatis.”
“Notsureyet.”Heopened
anearbyclosetandtookout
thebrown,freshlylaundered
robeinside.“Here,youcan
usethis.”Heeyedherleft
knee,whichwasstilloozing
blood.“We’dbettercover
that.Haveaseat.”
Shetuggedontherobe.
“Thanks,butIcandealwith
thebandaging.”
Hewasnotinamoodto
argue.Hepickedherupand
setherontheedgeofthe
counter.Shesighedbutdid
notprotest.
Heeasedasidetheflapof
therobeandexaminedthe
rawscrapeonherknee.
“Itdoesn’tlooktoobad,”
hesaid.“ButI’llbetithurts
likehell.”
“Alittle,”sheadmitted.
“Butthere’snopermanent
damage.”
Heopenedadrawerand
removedatubeofantibiotic
cream.Shestiffenedwhenhe
usedacottonswabtodabthe
creamonherinjuredkneebut
shedidn’tsayanything.
Hetookoutabox
containingseveralsizesof
bandagesandselectedone
thatlookedlikeitwould
coverthescrape.Heplastered
itneatlyinplace.
Whenhelookedupfrom
thetaskhefoundher
watchinghimwithavery
intentexpression.Thesoft,
seductiveintimacyofthe
situationstirredhissenses.
Hetriedtoshakeoffthe
risingtideofdesire.Shehad
beeninafight.Shewashurt
andwouldsoonbefeelinga
lotmorepain.Shehadtobe
exhausted.Thesexwould
havetowait.
“Thatshouldtakecareof
thewound,”hesaid.“You’ll
probablybebruised
tomorrowbutIcan’tdomuch
aboutthat.”
“Thankyou,”shesaid.
Therewasahuskyrasptoher
voiceandasultryheatinher
eyes.
Hehadtobestrongfor
bothofthem,hedecided.
Heliftedherdownoffthe
counterandsetheronher
feet.“I’mgoingtomakea
coupleofsandwichesanddig
outthewhiskeybottlewhile
you’refinishingupinhere.”
“Okay.”Shefiddledwith
thesashoftherobe,
managingtobrieflyexpose
onedaintybreast.“Thisrobe
is...big.”
“It’smine,”hesaid.
“Sorry,Idon’thaveoneyour
size.”
Sheappearedpleasedby
thatinformation.
“Good,”shesaid.
“Good?”
Shesmiledandlookeda
littlesmug.“Nevermind.”
Women.Sometimesaman
neededatranslator.
“I’llgomakethe
sandwiches,”hesaid.
Whenindoubt,talkabout
food.
Heleftthebathroomand
crossedthebedroomtothe
bigwalk-incloset.Heopened
adrawerandpulledouta
cleanblackcrewneckT-shirt,
briefsandapairofwell-worn
jeans.Hedidnotbotherwith
abelt.
Barefooted,hewentdown
thehalltothekitchen,turned
onsomelightsandopened
therefrigerator.Hehad
alertedhishousekeeperthat
hewouldbespendingthe
nightintown.The
RemarkableRenee,who
cameinonceaweektoclean,
hadgonegroceryshopping
forhim.Inadditiontothe
wedgeofcheddarcheese,dill
pickles,breadand
mayonnaisetherewasalsoa
cartonofeggsandafew
otheritems.
Makingthecheddar-anddill-picklesandwichesgave
himtimetothinkabout
somethingotherthanthefact
thatGracewaswithhimand
thattheyhadjusthadthebest
sexhe’dhadinaverylong
time,possiblyinforever.
Definitelyinforever,he
concluded.
BythetimeGracecame
downthehallenvelopedin
hisrobe,herfeetbare,hehad
thesandwichesandthe
whiskeywaitingonthelong,
gleamingsweepofblack
granitecountertopthatserved
ashiskitchentable.Italso
diddutyasalunchanddinner
tablewhenhewasinthecity.
Heneverusedthepolished
teakdiningtableandchairsin
thediningroom.
“Checkyouremail,”he
said.
Shestopped,bewildered,
forabeat.Andthenhereyes
narrowedalittleas
understandinghither.
“Crap,”shesaid.“Doyou
think...?”
“Checkit.”
“Ihadmyphoneofffor
yourspeechandforgottoturn
itbackonafterward,what
withalltheexcitement.”
Shewenttothetable
whereshehadlefther
eveningbagandtookouther
phone.Shepoweredupthe
deviceandstudiedher
messages.Whensheraised
hereyesshelookedbemused.
“Noemailfromthe
stalker,”shesaid.“Butwhat
doesthattellus?”
“Ittellsusthatthestalker
triedtosendanotherkindof
messagetonight.Heorshe
mightnotknowyetthatit
didn’tgetdeliveredas
planned.Idoubtiftheguy
withthepipecalledhisclient
toreportthattherehadbeena
fewproblemsandthathispal
issittinginjail.”
Gracetookadeepbreath
andclimbedupontooneof
thehighstools.Shewatched
himpourthewhiskeyasif
shewasmesmerizedbythe
action.
“Youthinkthatthere’sa
connectionbetweenwhat
happenedtonightand
whoeverhasbeensendingme
thoseemails,don’tyou?”she
asked.
Heswallowedsome
whiskeyandloweredthe
glass.“I’mgoingonthat
assumptionuntilproven
otherwise.”
Sheproppedanelbowon
thecounterandrestedher
chininherhand.
“You’reinthismess
becauseofme.”
“Stop,”heordered.
“We’vealreadyhadthis
conversation.I’mwithyou
becauseIwanttobewith
you.”
“Yes,but—”
“Shutupanddrinkyour
whiskey.”
Shereachedfortheglass.
Hewalkedaroundtheedge
ofthecounter,satdown
besideherandpickedupa
sandwich.“Thereisaslight
possibilitythattonightwasall
aboutme.Youmetmyexthis
evening.”
Gracepaused,herwhiskey
halfwaytohermouth.She
staredathim,clearly
shocked.
“Surelyshewouldn’thire
twothugstobeatyouup.”
“Probablynot,”heagreed.
“Dianahasledarather
shelteredlife.Shewouldn’t
knowhowtofindthatkindof
muscleonthestreet.”
Gracegavehimanodd
look.“Whowouldknowhow
tohirethesortofcreepswho
attackedustonight?”
“Goodquestion.”Hetook
abiteoutofhissandwich.
“I’mthinkingit’sprobably
thesamebastardwhoisn’t
afraidtohandleadeadrat.”
“Mystalker.”
“Yeah.”Hetookanother
biteandreflectedonthe
evening’seventswhilehe
munched.
“MindifIaskapersonal
question?”Gracesaidaftera
moment.
Heshrugged.“Goforit.”
“Yousaidearlierthatthe
Hastingsfamilycompanywas
diggingitsowngrave.Do
youreallybelievethat?”
“Hastingsisinbadshape
andI’msuretheproblemsare
inside.”
“WouldEdwardHastings
becapableofsendinga
coupleofjerkstopunishyou
withabeating?”
“IfEdblamesmeforhis
problems,it’squitepossible
thathe’dtakedrastic
measures.ButheandIgo
backaways.I’mtheonewho
hiredhimafterhehada
falling-outwithhisfatherand
hisuncles.Edwantedto
rebootHastingsandtakeit
intothetwenty-firstcentury.
Buttheoldguardwouldn’tlet
go.Sohewalked.”
“HeleftHastingsandwent
toworkforyou.”
“Yeah,forabouttwoyears.
Thenhisfatherhadaheart
attackandwasforcedto
retire.Theunclesrealized
theycouldn’thandleHastings
ontheirown.TheyaskedEd
tocomebackandtakecontrol
ofthecompany.Heaccepted
theoffer.Hastingsstarted
sailingintotroubledwatersa
fewmonthslater.Myguttells
methatifEdwasconvinced
thatIwasbehindhistroubles,
it’salotmorelikelythathe
wouldwalkintomyoffice
andtakeaswingatme,
himself.”
“Hewouldn’thire
someonetodothat?”
“Ifhedidhiresomeoneto
dothejobhewouldhave
employedhigherquality
talent.Itaughthimthatifyou
douseafixer,youbuythe
best.”
Gracelookedathim,eyes
widening.“Wow.That’s
cold.”
Heshruggedandfinished
thesandwich.Herefusedto
pretendtobesomethingother
thanwhathewas—notwith
Grace.He’dtriedtobe
someoneelseoncebefore
withDiana.Thingshadnot
gonewell.
Gracedranksomemore
whiskeywithameditativeair
andloweredtheglass.
“Maybethepolicewillbe
abletogetsomeuseful
informationoutoftheguy
withtheknife.”
Juliusranthescenariosin
hisheadthewayhedidwhen
hewasconsideringan
investment,lookingforthe
stuffthatwashidingjustout
ofsightintheshadows.
“Myguessisthattheguy
withtheknifewon’tbeable
totellthecopsmuchabout
whohiredhim,”hesaid.“The
dealwouldhavebeenacash
transaction.Nonames.No
identities.Nogood
descriptions.Whatwithone
thingandanother,Ithinkwe
needtotryanotherangle.”
“Suchas?”
“Weneedtofindawayto
drawthestalkeroutof
hiding.”
“Howdowedothat?”
Graceasked.
“I’mnotsureyet.Butone
thingisobvious—thebastard
hasareasonforstalkingyou.
Wehavetofindoutwhatthat
reasonis.”
“Well,ifit’sNyla,we
knowshewantsthemoney
shethinksIstolefromher
father’sbusiness.IsupposeI
couldoffertotalktoher
aboutitbutthere’snotmuch
roomfornegotiationbecause
Idon’thaveanythingto
offer.”
“Whatifthestalker’sgoal
isn’tthemoney?”
Gracedranksomeofher
whiskeyalittletooquickly.
Shesputtered,coughedand
loweredtheglass.“Whatelse
coulditbe?”
“You’resurethere’snoex
inthepicturewhomighthave
becomeobsessedwithyou?”
“Stalkersarebydefinition
delusionalandcrazy,”Grace
said.“Isupposeit’spossible
thatsomeonefrommypast
hasgoneofftherailsand
decidedtofixateonmebutI
havetotellyou,it’shighly
unlikely.”
“Ineedalist.”
Sheblinked.“Ofallthe
menI’vedatedinthepast?”
Hesmiled.“Thatmany?”
Shegrimaced.“Iwish.”
“Relax,Idon’tthinkwe
needtogobacktoyourhigh
schoolpromdate.”
“That’sgoodbecauseI’m
prettysureAndrewisn’tmy
stalker.”
“Andrew?”
“Mydatefortheprom.I
toldyou,hespenttheevening
whiningtomebecausehehad
wantedtotakeJennifertothe
prombutshedeclined.He
wasdeeplydepressedabout
thesituation.Heaskedmy
adviceonhowtoattracther
attention.”
“Didyoutellhimtothink
positive?”
“Prettymuch,”Gracesaid.
“First,ItoldhimthatJennifer
wasallwrongforhim.He
didn’twanttohearthatsoI
remindedhimthathehada
geniusforcomputers.Itold
himtoinventanaddictive
onlinegame,getveryrich
andthengolookup
Jennifer.”
“Didthatadvicework?”
“Partially.Andrewdid
inventasuccessfulsocial
mediaprogram.Hedidan
IPOthatwasvaluedatafew
billiondollarsandhedidget
veryrich.Buthedidn’tmarry
Jennifer,whichisagood
thingbecausetheywould
havebeenveryunhappy
together.Hemarried
someoneelse,instead—
anotherverynice,verysmart
geek.Itwasamuchbetter
match.”
“Whathappenedto
Jennifer?”
“Shemarriedwelland
often.Sheisnowonhusband
numberthree,Ibelieve,and
livinginamansiononMercer
Island.Thereis,accordingto
Irene,averybigboatparked
inthewaterinfrontofthe
house.”Gracefrownedatthe
half-emptyglassofwhiskey.
“I’mrambling,aren’tI?Way
toochatty.Imaycrashsoon.”
“That’sagoodthing,”
Juliussaid.
Hedranksomemoreofhis
ownwhiskey,lettingtheheat
oftheliquorrelaxhim.
Gracemadeavisibleeffort
toconcentrate.“Aboutthis
listyouwantmetomake.”
Heputdownhisglass.
“I’mnotaskingforthenames
ofyouroldboyfriends.What
Iwantisalistofeveryone
whowascloselyconnectedto
SpragueWitherspoon—his
businessandhisfamily.”
“You’reconvincedthat
whateverisgoingoninmy
worldisconnectedtohis
murder,aren’tyou?”
“Ithinkitstartsthere.The
vodkabottlethingcanno
longerbeclassifiedasa
coincidence.”
“No,”shesaid.“Probably
not.Okay,I’llmakeupalist.
ButIcan’tdoittonight.I
can’tseemtofocus.”
“Thinkyoucansleep?”
Shepausedinmid-yawn
andlookedathimwitha
consideringexpression.
“Whataremyoptions?”
sheasked.
“Leftsideofthebedorthe
rightsideofthebed.”
“Choices,choices.”
•••
J
uliuswaswatchingfrom
theshadowsofthebig
bedassheemergedfromthe
bathroominaprettyyellow
nightgown.Shemoved,
wraithlike,acrosstheroom
andclimbedunderthecovers
ontheleftside.
Heturnedoutthelights
andmovedclosertoher.She
tensedalittlewhenhisarm
wentaroundherwaist.He
kissedhershoulder.
“Sleep,”hesaid.
“Okay,”shesaid.
Andshedid.
Thirty-Two
T
heolddreamrose
outofthedepthson
adarktideofpanic.
...Shetriedtocontrolher
breathing.Shedidnotwant
theboytorealizethatshe
wasterrified.Herheartwas
poundingsohardshewas
afraidhemighthearit.
Theboyseemedfrozen
withhorror.Shegrippedhis
thinshoulderwithonehand.
Inherotherhandshe
clutchedtheneckofthevodka
bottle.Togethersheandthe
boylistenedtothemonster
comedownthestairs.Each
thudofthebootssenta
tremorthroughbothofthem.
Thenarrowbeamofthe
killer’sflashlightlanced
throughthewellofnightand
splashedacrosstheplasticshroudedbody.Thenit
probedintoafarcornerof
thebasement.Hewas
searchingfortheboy.As
soonasheturnedaroundhe
wouldseethemhidinginthe
shadows.
“Run,”shesaidtotheboy.
Sheusedhergriponhis
shouldertohaulhimoutfrom
underthestaircaseand
propelhimtowardthestairs.
Hersternvoiceandthe
physicalshoveshegavehim
combinedtobreakthrough
hisparalysis.
Hechargedupthestairs
towardtheopendoor.
Shefollowed,takingthe
stepstwoatatime.Trager
yelledather.Shedidnot
stop.
Andthenhewasonthe
stairsbehindher,movingso
fastsheknewshecouldnot
outrunhim.Hewassomuch
biggerandstronger.
Theboyreachedthetopof
thesteps.Hepausedand
lookedback.
“Go,”shesaidagain.
“Don’tstop.”
Theboydisappearedinto
thegloomthatinfusedthe
atmospherebeyondthe
doorway.
Tragercaughtherjean
jacket.Shewastrapped.She
smashedthevodkabottle
againsttherailing,creatinga
jaggedblade.Sheslashed
wildly,felttheresistance
whenthesharpglassstruck
skinandbone.Trager
screamed.Therewasblood
everywhere.
Thecrimsonrainsplashed
herclothes,herhands...
“Grace.Grace,it’sall
right.You’resafe,I’vegot
you.Justadream.”
ItwasJulius’svoice,
pullingheroutofthedark
fog.Shecameawake,
shiveringasshealwaysdid
afterthenightmare.Hereyes
snappedopenandshegasped
forbreath.Someonewas
holdingherdown—pinning
hertothebed.
“No.”Shestruggled,
frantictogetfree.
Juliusreleasedher
instantly.Sheboltedupright,
pushedthecoversasideand
swungherlegsovertheside
ofthebed.Shetriedtogo
intoherbreathingroutine.
Shouldhavesleptinthe
guestbedroom.Shouldn’t
havetakentherisk.Whathad
shebeenthinking?
“Sorry,”shesaid.Her
voicewastightandthin.“Old
dream.Haven’thaditina
longtimebuteversinceI
foundSprague’sbody—”
“Iunderstand,”Juliussaid.
“Beenthere.”
Hisvoicewascalmand
steady,asifhewas
accustomedtobeing
awakenedbyawomanwho
wasemergingfroma
nightmare.No,shethought.
Hewastalkingabouthimself.
“Youknowsomething
aboutnightmares,”shesaid.
“Oh,yeah.”
Thebreathingexercises
weren’tworking.Shelunged
toherfeetandgrabbedthe
robethatshehadleftonthe
wallhook.Shelookedoutthe
window.Itwasstilldark,still
raining,butthecityscape
glitteredandsparkledinthe
night.
Breathe.
Sheturnedandwatched
Juliusclimboutofbed.He
waswearingtheT-shirtand
briefshe’dputonafterthe
shower.Shewassuddenly
veryconsciousofthefactthat
shewasenvelopedinhis
robe.
“Iknowthissounds
weird,”shesaid,“butIneed
togetsomeair.Ineedto
move.Ineedtogetoutside.”
“Notaproblem.”He
pulledonthejeanshe’dleft
onanearbychair.“Got
meds?”
Hesoundedsomatter-offactsheknewthathe’dmeant
itwhenhesaidthathe’dbeen
there.
“Yes,”shewhispered.“My
purse.”Desperatetoappear
normal,shetriedtoinject
somebrittlehumorintoher
voice.“Ineverleave—”
“Youneverleavehome
withoutthem.NeitherdoI.
Haven’thadtousethemin
yearsbutIkeepthemhandy.”
Thatreassuredheras
nothingelsecouldhavedone
inthatmoment.Hereallydid
understand.Buttheterrible
jitterysensationandthe
tightnessinherchestwere
notimproving.
“I’llusethemifIneed
them,”shesaid,“butIthink
I’llbeokayifIcanjustget
throughthedoor—outside.”
Sherushedintothevast
livingroom.Thelightcoming
throughthewallofwindows
wassufficienttoguideherto
thebalconyslider.Juliusgot
therefirst.Hereachedoutto
openthedoor.Hisfingers
brushedagainsthers.She
jerkedback.
“Sorry,”shesaid.
“It’sokay.”
Heunlockedthesliderand
pulleditaside.
Thedooratthetopofthe
stairswasopen.Shehadto
getthroughit.Therewasno
otherwaytoescape.
Shesteppedoutontothe
balcony.Juliusfollowedher
outintothechillednight.
Shegrippedtherailingand
wentintothebreathing
exercises.
Juliusstoodbesideherand
waitedcalmly,asiftherewas
nothingunusualaboutadate
whohadpanicattacksand
neededtogooutdoorsinthe
middleofthenight.
Slowlyshegotherself
undercontrol.
“Sorry,”shewhispered
again.“Amongotherthings,
thisisreallyembarrassing.”
“No,”hesaid.“It’snot.
Arethedreamsgetting
worse?”
“Sprague’sbody.The
stalker.Thedamnvodka
bottle.Therat.Thetrapped
feeling.It’sbeenavery
heavycoupleofweeks.I
shouldhaveknownbetter
thantothinkIcouldgetaway
withsleepinginyourbed.I
neverspendthenight
with...withadate.”
Graduallyherpulse
slowed.Herbreathing
calmed.
Whenshewassureshe
wasbackundercontrolshe
releasedherdeathgriponthe
railingandstraightened.
“Damn,”shesaidsoftly.“I
hatethesecrappypanic
attacks.”
“Iknowhowyoufeel.I
toldyou,I’vebeenthere.”
“Formeitallgoesbackto
thatdayinthebasementat
theasylum,”shesaid.
“Reasonenoughforan
anxietyattack.”
“Tragertriedtostopme.”
Shesuckedinadeepbreath.
“WhenIranupthestairs,he
grabbedmyjacket.Iwas
trapped.Iknewthathewas
goingtokillme.”
“Butyouslashedhisface
withabrokenbottle.You
escaped.”
“Yes.IfIhadn’tgrabbed
thatbottle—”
“Butyoudidgrabthe
bottle.Yousavedyourself
andtheboy.”
Shetookinanotherdeep,
squarebreathandletitout
slowly.
“I’vebeenmildly
claustrophobiceversincethat
day.Butthat’snottheworst
part.Icanhandleelevators
andairplanessolongasthey
areinmotion.Theworstpart
isthedream.Therealbad
attacksarealwayslinkedto
it.”
“Butyouneverknowwhen
itwillstrike.That’swhyyou
neverletadatespendthe
night.”
Shenodded,mute.
“Nightswerealwaysthe
worstforme,too.”Julius
grippedtherailingbesideher.
“It’sbeenbetterinthepast
fewyears.Ididmytimewith
theshrinksandwithmeds.
Butonceinawhileitall
comesroaringback.”
Shelookedathim.“No
decentpersoncouldgotowar
andnotbechanged.”
Heleanedontherailing
andgazedoutoverthe
glowingcity.“Thingslooked
differenttomeafterward.”
“Becauseyouwere
different.”
Henodded.“Butfora
whileImadethemistakeof
tryingtopretendthatnothing
hadchanged.Itwastimeto
moveforwardwithmylife
andallmybigplans.And
that’sjustwhatIdid.Gotthe
job,withHarley.Learned
fromhim.Startedmyown
business.Gotrich.Got
married.”
“Youweredeterminedto
benormal,”shesaid.
“Absolutelydetermined.”
“Yousetanobjectiveand
youpursuedit,”shesaid.“Is
thatwhyyourmarriagefell
apart?Becauseyouwere
focusedontryingtogetback
tonormal?”
“No,”hesaid.“My
marriagefellapartbecauseI
wasnotthemanDiana
wantedmetobe.Nother
fault.Ihadfooledbothofus
intothinkingIcouldbecome
thatman.Dianaisabeautiful
womanandsheisalsoavery
niceperson,atleastsheis
whensheisn’tattackingmy
datesinthewomen’sroom.”
Gracemanagedaweak
laugh.“Butotherwise—”
“Otherwise,she’sagood
person.ButIthinkIwas
attractedtohermostly
becausesheseemedtofitso
perfectlyintomyfantasyofa
newlife.”
“Shecompletedthenormal
scenario.”
“Right.Ittookmeawhile
toacceptthatthereisnoreset
buttonwhenitcomesto
normal.Anditsoonbecame
cleartoDianathatIwas
nevergoingtofitintoher
definitionofnormal,either.
Themoreshetriedto
transformmeintothekindof
husbandshewanted,the
harderIworkedtobuild
ArkwrightVentures.Iused
mybusinessthewayan
addictusesdrugs.”
“Youpushedeachother
away,”Gracesaid.
“IknewthatIwaslosing
herandthatitwasmyfault.
ThenIstartedhavingthe
nightmaresagain.Dianawas
frightened.Ithinkshealso
foundthesituation
embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?”
“She’dhadtoovercomea
lotofobjectionsfromfriends
andfamilytomarryme.My
moneygotmethroughthe
frontdoorofherworldbutit
didn’tgivemethesocial
polish,theeducationandthe
connectionsrequiredtoreally
fitin.Dianadidherbestto
smooththetransition.I
learnedalotfromher.She
taughtmehowtodressand
howtopretendtoenjoya
cocktailpartyorareception.
Butitsoonbecameclearto
bothofusthatIwasn’tgoing
togothroughsomemagical
transformation.”
Gracesmiled.“You
probablyalsomadeitclear
thatyouweren’tgoingto
wastealotoftimetryingto
besomeoneelse.”
Julius’smouthkickedupat
onecorner.“Busted.You’re
right.IthinkthefactthatI
mightbehavingsomeposttraumaticstressissueswas
justonemorepieceofdata
confirmingthatshehadmade
amistake.Shefeltshe
couldn’tconfidetofriendsor
family.ButEdwardHastings
wascloseenoughtothe
situationtoseewhatwas
happening.Sheturnedtohim.
Itworkedoutwellforbothof
them.”
“Whataboutyou?”
“Ihadtoacknowledgethat
Iwasafailureinthelongterm-relationshipdepartment
butthenastylittletruthisthat
anotherpartofmewas
relieved.Icouldfinallyfocus
onmyobsession.”
“Right.Yourbusiness.It
neveraskedquestions.Never
triedtochangeyou.Never
wonderedwhyyoucame
homelateatnight.Butinthe
endyoufoundoutwhatevery
addictlearns—there’salways
adarksidetoyourdrugof
choice.”
“Yep.ThemoremoneyI
made,thelesssatisfyingit
wastomakemoney.”
“That’sbecauseyourlife
lackedbalance.”
Hesmiled.“Isthatthe
problem?”
“Ithinkbalanceisalways
theproblem.Idoubtthat
anyoneevergetsitperfectly
right.Thetrickisto
recognizewhenthingsare
tiltingtoofarinthewrong
directionandmakecourse
corrections.”
“Thatsoundslikeoneof
thosedorkyWitherspoon
Wayaffirmations.”
“I’vebeentoldthatsome
peoplefindthemannoying,”
shesaid.
“Amusingwouldbemore
accurate.”
Gracetookabreathandlet
itoutslowly,withmore
controlthistime.The
exercisesweredoingtheir
work.
“Youknow,”shesaid,
“thereisaWitherspoon
sayingthatdoescoverthis
situationrathernicely.”
“Ofcoursethereis.”Julius
lookedather.“Whatisit?”
“Therecanbenotrue
definitionofnormalbecause
lifeisever-changing.”
“Whatthehelldoesthat
mean?”Juliusasked.
“DangedifIknow,butI
thoughtitsoundedrather
pithywhenIwroteit.”
“Verydeep,”Juliussaid.
“Thanks.Iuseditasa
taglinefortherecipefor
HarmonyVegetableSoupin
thecookbook.”Shepaused.
“Theideawasthatnotwo
versionsofvegetablesoup
areeverexactlythesame.”
“Gotit.”Hedidnotmove.
“Feelingbetter?”
Sherananinternalcheck.
Allthevitalsignswereonce
againgreen.“Yes.”She
hesitated.“Thanks.”
Henoddedonceandshe
knewthathedidnotneedan
explanation.
“Imadeitarulelongago
nottodiscussthenightmare
ortheanxietyepisodeswith
mydates,”shesaid.
“Whatacoincidence,”he
said.“Imadethesamerule.”
“Didyou?”
“Ihadthesamepolicythat
youhavewhenitcomesto
spendingthenight.Ishelved
thepolicyforatimefor
marriageandthingsdidnot
endwell.Lessonlearned.I
wentbacktothatpolicyafter
thedivorce.”
Shesmiled.“Cinderella
Man.Homebymidnight.”
“Noglassslippers,though.
Irefusetowearglass
slippers.”
“Glassslippersaresolast
year,”shesaid.
“Goodtoknow.”He
lookedoutattheglowing
cityscape.“So,tosumup
recentdevelopments,wehave
bothbrokenourownrules.”
“Yes,”shesaid.“We
have.”
Shemovedherpalmalong
therailinguntilshewas
touchingtheedgeofhishand.
Thistimeshedidnotflinch.
Hewaswarmandstrongand
rock-steady.Sherelaxeda
littlemore.
AfterawhileJulius
tightenedhisfingersgently
aroundhers.
“Okaynow?”heasked.
“Yes,Ithinkso.”
Heledherbackinsideand
backtobed.Thistimeshefell
intoadreamlesssleep.
ThirtyThree
I
’vebeenthinkingabout
yourex-wifeandyour
formervicepresident,”
Gracesaid.
“Don’tthinkaboutDiana
andEdward,”Juliussaid.“I
sureashelldon’twantto
thinkabouteitherofthem.”
“Butthereareissueshere
thatyoucan’tignore.”
“Watchme.”
Shewasdoingjustthat,
watchinghimfromherperch
ontheothersideofthe
kitchencounter.Juliuswas
crackingeggsintoabowl.He
diditwithaneasy,onehandedaction.Amanwho
wasinthehabitofcooking
forhimself,shethought.A
manwhowasaccustomedto
livingalone.
“Itakeityoudon’tbelieve
ingettingclosure?”shesaid.
“Thereisnosuchthingas
closureasfarasI’m
concerned.”Juliustossedthe
contentsofanotheregginto
thebowl.“Thingsarewhat
theyare.Youdealwith
realityandmoveon.”
“Listenup,Mr.Realist,
I’mtheonewhowas
confrontedbyyourexinthe
ladies’roomlastnight.I’ve
gotarighttotellyouwhatI
thinkisgoingonandyou
shouldlistentome.”
“Why?”
“Becausewe’resleeping
togethernow,that’swhy,”
sheshotback.“Thisisa
relationship.Inarelationship
peoplearesupposedtotalkto
eachother.”
Juliusgroaned.“Okay,
talk.Buttalkfastbecause
we’vegototherTo-Doitems
onouragendatoday.”
“I’mawareofthat.”She
foldedherarmsonthegranite
andwatchedhimwhiska
littlecreamintotheeggs.
“Here’smytakeonDiana.I
thinkshefeelsguilty.”
“Aboutwalkingouton
me?Idoubtit.Hell,shehad
cause.Justaskher.”
“Idon’tthinkshefeels
guiltyaboutwalkingouton
you,”Gracesaidpatiently.
“I’msureinhermindshedid
therightthing—shesetyou
bothfreefromabroken
relationshipthatsheknew
couldnotberepaired.And
what’smore,shehadthe
goodsensetofigureoutthat
thingswerenotgoingtowork
beforetherewereany
childrentoconsider.”
“I’llgiveyouthatpoint.”
Juliuspouredthebeateneggs
intothefryingpan.“So
what’sshefeelingguilty
about?”
“Sheblamesherselffor
beingthereasonyouare
tryingtodestroyher
husband’scompany.”
“ExceptthatI’mnottrying
todestroyHastings.”
“ThatispreciselywhatI
toldher.”
“Fine.Youdidwhatyou
couldtostraightenherouton
thatscore.”Juliuspickedupa
spatulaandbegandraggingit
slowlythroughtheeggs.
“Canweallmoveonnow?”
“Ithinkyoushouldtalkto
Edward.”
“Aboutmovingon?Trust
me,he’sgotenoughonhis
plateatthemomenttryingto
saveHastings.Hedoesn’t
havetimefortherapy.”
“Iwasthinkingthatyou
couldoffertohelphim
salvagethecompany.”
Juliuslookedatherasif
she’dlosthermind.“Incase
youhaven’tnoticed,Ialso
havealotgoingonright
now.”
“Yes,Iknow,andI
appreciatewhatyou’redoing
onmybehalfbutIthinkyour
issueswithEdwardand
Dianaareimportant.”
“Ijusttoldyou,Idon’t
haveanyissueswitheitherof
them,”Juliussaid.
“Yousaidyouthoughtthe
problemswerecomingfrom
withintheHastingsfamily
empire.Ifthat’strue,Edward
maybetooclosetothe
situation.Couldn’tyou,
perhaps,offertoconsultfor
him?”
“Hewouldn’twantmy
help,believeme.”
“Doyouknowthatfora
factorareyoujustassuming
thathewouldturndownan
offerfromyou?”
Juliusremovedthepan
fromtheburner.“Ithinkit’s
timewebroughtclosureto
thisconversationandmoved
ontoanothertopic.”
“Whattopicisthat?”
“Yourissueswithacertain
stalker.You’resupposedto
makeupalistofpeoplein
Witherspoon’sorbit,
remember?”
“Ididthatforthepolice,”
shesaid.
“Thecopsarelookingfor
thekiller.”Juliusspoonedthe
scrambledeggsontotwo
plates.“YouandIaregoing
afterthestalker.”
“Whatifthey’reoneand
thesame?”
“Thatwillcertainly
simplifythings,”Juliussaid.
“Ithinkthere’saconnection
betweenthemurderandthe
stalkingbutwhetherwe’re
lookingforoneortwopeople
isstillanopenquestion.”
Shedidaquicklittle
staccatowithherfingertips
onthegranitecounter.
“You’renotthefirstperson
tocomeupwiththattheory,”
shesaid.“Kristysuggested
thatNylaandMr.Perfect
mighthaveconspiredto
murderSprague.Millicent
agreeswithher.”
“It’scertainlyaviable
possibility.”
Shereachedforthetablet
oflinedyellowpaperandthe
penhehadputonthecounter.
“Okay,I’llseeifIcanexpand
thelist.”
Herphonerangjustasshe
finishedwritingNyla
Witherspoon.Sheglancedat
thescreenandsawher
sister’sname.Shepickedup
thephone.
“Hi,Alison,what’sgoing
on?”shesaid.
“Idon’tknow,”Alison
said.“Youtellme,little
sister.”
Alison’svoicewastoo
coolandashadetooneutral.
Shewasinlawyermode.
Gracewentblank.
“Idon’tunderstand,”she
said.“Issomethingwrong?
Alison,areyouokay?Are
EthanandlittleHarryall
right?”
“We’refine.You’rethe
onewhoshoweduponevery
businessandfinancialblog
thatcoversthePacific
Northwestthismorning,to
saynothingofsocialmedia.”
“What?”
“YouwereJulius
Arkwright’sdateforthat
Seattlebusinessdinnerand
charityauctionlastnight.”
Alison’svoicestartedtorise.
“Therearepictures,Grace.
Hekissedyourighttherein
frontofhalfofthemovers
andshakersinthecity.There
arerumorsofascenewithhis
ex—intherestroom,noless.”
“Oh,jeez.”
GraceglancedatJulius.He
wassittingrightnexttoher.
Shecouldtellfromtheflash
ofamusementinhiseyesthat
hecouldhearAlison.
“Justasecond,Alison.”
Gracejumpedoffthestool
andhurriedacrossthebig
livingroomtothewindow
wall.Shedidnotthinkthat
Juliuscouldheartheother
sideoftheconversationfrom
thatdistance.
“Calmdown,Alison,”she
saidsoftly.“Itoldyouthat
Ireneandherhusbandsetme
upwithablinddateinCloud
Lake.Isaidthedate’sname
wasJulius.”
“Youneversaidhisname
wasJuliusArkwright,”Alison
snapped.
“Ididn’tthinkitwas
important.Besides,you
didn’task.”
“Goodgrief,doyouhave
anyideawhoyou’reseeing?”
Graceglancedbackat
Julius,whowasnowdrinking
coffeeandputtingonagood
showofpretendingtobe
oblivious.
“Yes,I’mprettysureI
knowwhoI’mdating,”she
said,speakinginlowtones.
“Whyareyouwhispering?
Wait.Where,exactly,are
you?”
“I’mstillinSeattle.”
“Yougaveupyour
apartmentthere,”Alisonsaid.
“Goodgrief.You’rewith
him,aren’tyou?”
“StoptalkingasifI’m
abouttosingle-handedly
launchArmageddon.”
“Toolate,”Alisonsaid.“If
you’resleepingwithJulius
Arkwright,theworldasyou
knowitisabouttobe
drasticallychanged.Listento
me,mynaivelittlesister,
therearerumorscirculating
aboutArkwright.”
“Youmeanthatgossip
abouthimtryingtodestroy
theHastingsfamilybusiness?
Yes,Iknow.Buttheyaren’t
true.”
“Iheardyoudefended
Arkwrighttohisex.AndI’m
inclinedtoagreewithyou.
Givenhisreputation,Ihavea
hunchthatHastingswouldbe
inmuchbiggertroublethanit
isifArkwrighthaddecidedto
takedownthecompany.”
“Exactly,”Gracesaid.
“But,”Alisoncontinued,
“thatdoesn’tmeanthatthere
isn’talotofdangerousdrama
goingonbetweenHastings,
Arkwrightandtheex-wife.
Youdonotwanttoget
caughtinthemiddleofa
three-waywar.Doyouhear
me?Thatisn’tsomethingyou
canfixwithacoupleof
dumbassaffirmationsandthe
applicationofpositivethinkingprinciples.”
“Dumbassaffirmations?”
“Payattention,Grace.This
isyourlifewe’retalking
about.”
“Alison,Iappreciateyour
concern,reallyIdo,butI’ve
gotthingsundercontrol.
Trustme.”
“Saidthebunnyrabbitjust
beforethewolfateher.”
Gracesmiled.“LittleRed
RidingHood.”
“What?”
“Nevermind.Itakeitthat
youdidn’thearthatJulius
andIwereattackedbya
coupleofthugsinthegarage
afterthebusinessaffair.”
“Goodgrief.”NowAlison
soundedstunned.“Areyou
serious?”
“Yes,butdon’tworry,
JuliusandIarefine.Alittle
bruised,butokay.Thoseselfdefenseexercisesfinally
cameinhandy.Unfortunately
thegorgeouspieceofart
glassthatJuliushadtobuyat
thecharityauctionwas
smashedtosmithereens.But
Juliuscaughtoneofthe
assailants.We’rehopingthe
copswillgetsome
informationthatwillleadto
thearrestoftheguywhogot
away.”
“Ican’tbelievethis.Ithink
Imayneedtoliedownand
putacoolclothonmy
feveredbrow.Whatinthe
worldareyoudoing?”
“Don’tknowforsure,yet,
butitturnsoutthatJuliusisa
prettygoodbodyguard.”
“Heis?”Alisonsounded
bewildered.
“Marines.Thenheworked
asafixerforamanwhoran
constructionsitesinvarious
partsoftheworld.Anyhow,
I’mingoodhands.Butdon’t
tellMom,okay?Notyet.
She’llfreak.”
“I’mfreaking.”
“Mylifewillcalmdownas
soonasthecopscatchthe
personwhomurdered
SpragueWitherspoon.”
Therewasashortpauseon
theotherendofthe
connection.
“Aretheymaking
progress?”Alisonaskedin
herlawyerlyaccent.
Gracedecidedtogofora
positivespin.“They’re
expectingabigbreakanyday
now.”
“Inotherwords,no
progress.”
“Look,I’vegottogo.”
“Promisemethatyou’llbe
careful,”Alisonsaid.
“Promise.Talktoyou
later.Loveyou.Bye.”
Graceendedthe
connectionandlookedat
Julius.
“Mysister.”
Juliuswatchedherwithan
unreadableexpression.
“Yeah,Igotthatmuch,”he
said.“Itakeitshedoesn’t
approveofourrelationship?”
“She’llbeokay,”Grace
said.“Alisonisjust
somewhatinshockbecause
shegotthenewsthrough
socialmediainsteadoffrom
me.Perfectlyunderstandable.
Andnaturallyshe’s
concernedaboutthelackof
progressinthemurder
investigation.”
“SoamI,”Juliussaid.
“Butgettingbacktothe
subjectofourrelationship.”
Shewalkedacrossthe
roomandsatdownatthe
counter.“Whataboutit?”
“You’reokaywithit?”
Thepresentistheonly
thingthatiscertain.Liveit
fully.
Shesmiled.“Iwouldn’tbe
hereifIwasn’tokaywithour
relationship.”
Juliusdidnotlookentirely
satisfiedwithherresponse
buthewentbacktohis
coffee.Shereachedforthe
yellowpadandthepen.
Anotherphonerang.
Julius’sthistime.Heglanced
atthescreenandtookthe
call.
“Noproblem,Eugene.I
toldyoutocallmetheminute
youcameupwithanything
interesting.Whathaveyou
got?”
Graceputdownherpen
andwaited.
“Thanks,”Juliussaid.
“Yes,thisisimportant.
ContactChiefNakamuraat
theCloudLakePDandgive
himwhatyou’vegot.He’s
coordinatingthingswith
Seattle.Goodwork.”
Juliusendedthe
connection.“Thatwas
Eugene,oneofthewizardsI
askedtofollowthemoney.”
“Iremember,”Grace
asked.“Whatdidhefind?”
“ItoldyouIaskedthe
wizardstogodeeperintothe
Witherspoonfinancial
records.Theyfoundan
interestingitemmarked
MedicalExpenses.”
“What’sunusualabout
that?”
“Everymonthforthepast
fewmonthsseveralthousand
dollarshavebeentransferred
fromWitherspoon’sprivate
accounttoanaccountinNew
York.ThenameontheNYC
accountisWilliamJ.Roper.
Eugenesayshecan’tfinda
WilliamJ.Roperatthe
addressontheaccount.”
“Thatdoesn’tmakesense.
WhywouldSpraguehave
beenpayingmedical
expensesinNewYork?I
don’tthinkhehadanyEast
Coastconnections.”Grace
stilled.“Wait,isthatNyla’s
missinginheritance?”
“No,that’sdefinitelygone,
probablysittingoffshore.
Thislooksmorelikeaslow
bleed.”
“What’sthatmean?”
“Blackmail.”
Heremailalertchimed,
startlingher.Shefroze,the
wayshealwaysdidlately
whensheheardanalert.
Juliuswentstill,too.
Theybothlookedather
phone.Gracepickeditup,
lookedatthescreenand
sighedinrelief.
“It’sfromMillicent,”she
said.“Notthestalker.”
“Millicentgetsstarbilling
onoursuspectlist,”Julius
said.Helookedgrim.“What
doesshewantfromyou?”
Gracepulleduptheemail
andsmiled.“Lifeisshort.Eat
morechocolate.”
Juliusfrowned.“Whatthe
hellisthatsupposedto
mean?”
“Itwasanofficejoke.
Kristy,MillicentandIusedto
amuseourselvesthinkingup
funnyaffirmations.Millicent
cameupwiththatparticular
slogan.Sheloveschocolate.”
Juliusglancedathiswatch.
“It’seighto’clockinthe
morning.Whyisshesending
youthatemailnow?”
“Ihavenoidea.”
“Doesshemakeahabitof
sendingyouemailslike
that?”
“No,shedoesn’t.Theline
abouteatingchocolatewas
justalittlejokearoundthe
officebutMillicentisn’tone
ofthosepeoplewhoemails
thingslikethat.”Grace
glancedattheemailandthe
time.“Itisalittleweird,isn’t
it?”
“Callher,”Juliussaid.
“Findoutwhyshesentit.”
Thecooledgeonhiswords
sentachillthroughGrace.
“I’msureit’snothing,”she
said.Sheeyedthephone.
“ButIwilladmitthatafunny
emailatthishourisalittle
outofcharacterforMillicent.
Unless—”
“What?”
Gracemadeaface.“I’llbet
sheheardaboutthatlittle
scenelastnightatthe
businessbanquet.”
“Thescenebetweenyou
andDiana?”
Graceclearedherthroat.
“Morelikelyitwasthatkiss
infrontofallthosepeople
thatgotherattention.Alison
saystherewerepictures.”
Juliusdidnotlookamused.
Hewasveryintent.“Why
wouldMillicentemailyoua
jokeyaffirmationbecauseI
kissedyouatthatdamn
banquet?”
“Gotahunchshe’dthinkit
was...entertaining.
Millicentwasalwaysteasing
meaboutmyratherboring
sociallife.”
“I’mnotseeinga
connectionwithchocolate.”
“It’safemalething.”
“Byallaccounts,Millicent
isverygoodwithmoney,”
Juliussaid.“Alotofithas
recentlygonemissing.In
addition,myfinancial
wizardshaveuncovered
somethingthatlooksalotlike
blackmail.Andnowthis
Millicent,whoissogood
withmoney,issendingyou
funnyemailsateighto’clock
inthemorning.Callher.Find
outwhat’sgoingon.”
Gracetookabreath.
“Okay.”
SheclickedonMillicent’s
contactinfo—andgot
dumpedstraightintovoice
mail.
“Tryemailingher,”Julius
said.
Gracelookedathim.
“You’reveryseriousabout
gettingintouchwithher.”
“Weknowshejustsent
thatemail.She’sonher
phoneorcomputer.Go
ahead,hitreply.”
Gracetappedout
“Everythingokay?”
Shedranksomecoffee
whileshewaitedfora
response.Whennonecame,
shetriedleavinganother
voicemailmessage.Thenshe
triedatextmessage.
“Thisisimportant.Please
call.”
Therewasnoresponse.
“Doyouhaveher
address?”Juliusasked.
“Yes,ofcourse.She
invitedKristyandmeoverto
herapartmentoccasionally
forcocktailsandamovie.
ShelivesintheSouthLake
Unionneighborhood.”
Juliusgottohisfeet.“Let’s
goseeifshe’shome.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“I’mnotsosurethisisa
smartidea,Julius.Asyou
keepremindingme,it’sstill
earlyinthemorning.
Millicentmaynotbealone.
Andevenifshedoesanswer
thedoor,what,exactly,are
wegoingtotalktoher
about?”
“SpragueWitherspoonand
themissingmoney,”Julius
said.“I’vegotlotsof
questions.”
Thirty-Four
T
heapartment
buildingwasoneof
thegleamingtowers
thathadsprungupseemingly
overnightintheSouthLake
Unionneighborhoodof
Seattle.Theareabetweenthe
downtowncoreandLake
Union—onceasleepy
industrialsector—wasnowa
thrivingmixofhigh-rise
offices,condos,apartments,
trendyrestaurantsand
boutiqueshops.The
sidewalkswerefilledwith
upwardlymobiletechiesand
ambitiousprofessionalswho
likedtoliveclosetowhere
theyworked.Therewerevery
fewsuitstobeseen.Denim
prevailed.
Itwasonlyeight-thirtybut
thecoffeehousesandcafés
werebusy.Juliusadmiredthe
purposefulwayeveryonein
thevicinitymoved.The
peoplearoundhimalllooked
liketheywereintenton
constructingagrandfuture.
Therehadbeenatimewhen
hehadpossessedasimilar
senseofdriveandpurpose,
hereflected.Butsomewhere
alongthelinethethrillhad
faded.Latelyhehadbeen
runningonautopilot.And
thenGracehadhappened.
Gracehadchanged
everything.
Hewatchedherenter
Millicent’snumberintothe
apartmentbuilding’s
electronicentrysystem.
“Thisisanexpensive
neighborhood,”hesaid.
“Millicentsaysshelikes
livinghereinSouthLake
Unionbecauseeveryoneisso
busyinventingthefutureno
onehasanytimetopryinto
otherpeople’sbusiness,”
Graceexplained.
“Inotherwords,shelikes
herprivacy.”
“Whodoesn’t?”
Therewasnoresponse
fromtheentrysystem.Julius
lookedthroughtheglass
doors.Amansatbehinda
highdeskdoinghisbestto
ignorewhatwashappening
ontheothersideofthefront
door.Hewasinhistwenties.
Hemighthavebeenworking
onhiscomputerbutJulius
thoughtitwasmorelikelythe
guywasplayinggames.
Juliustookouthiswallet
andremovedsomecash.He
foldedthebillsandslipped
themintohispocket.
“Contactthatguyatthe
doorstation,”hesaid.
Graceraisedherbrows.
“You’regoingtotry
bribery?”
“Gotabetteridea?”
“Nowthatyoumentionit,
no.”
Shepunchedinthedoor
stationcodeonthekeypad.
Thedoormanrespondedto
thesummons.Hegotupand
crossedthelobbytoopenthe
door.
“CanIhelpyou?”hesaid.
Helookedasifhehopedthe
answerwasno.
“I’mafriendofMillicent
Chartwellinapartment
twelve-oh-five,”Gracesaid.
“I’vebeentryingtogetin
touchwithherthismorning.
It’sveryimportant.She’snot
answeringherphonebutI
thinkshe’shere.I’mafraid
shemightbeill.”
“We’reextremely
concernedaboutherwellbeing,”Juliussaid.
Hepalmedthefoldedbills
outofhispocketandshook
handswiththedoorman.
Whenheretrievedhishand,
thecashhadvanished.The
doormanappeared
significantlymoreconcerned
aboutMillicent’shealth.
“YouthinkMissChartwell
mightbetoosicktocometo
thephone?”heasked,brow
furrowing.
“Yes,”Gracesaid.“Or
perhapsshefellinthe
shower.Shedoesn’thaveany
familyhereintown.There’s
nooneIcancalltocheckon
her.”
Thedoormanlooked
hesitant.“Well,wedoinsist
onasignedPTEfromevery
tenant.”
“What’saPTE?”Grace
asked.
“Permission-to-enter
form.”Thedoormanheaded
towardtheelevators.“I’m
authorizedtogointotheunits
toperformsafetychecks.I
noticedhercarinthegarage
downstairsthismorningwhen
Icameondutybutshedidn’t
gooutforherusuallatte.”
Theelevatordoorsslid
open.Thedoormandidnot
sayanythingwhenGraceand
Juliusfollowedhiminside.
Onthetwelfthfloortheyall
gotoutandwentdownthe
halltotwelve-oh-five.
Thedoormanknocked
loudlyseveraltimes.
“MissChartwell?”he
called.“Areyouhome?A
friendofyoursishere.She’s
veryconcernedaboutyou.”
“Something’swrong,”
Gracesaid.“Iknowit.Open
thedoor.”
“Orwe’llcontactthe
police,”Juliusadded.He
unclippedhiscellphonefrom
hisbelt.
“Shit,don’tcallthecops,”
thedoormansaid,clearly
alarmed.“She’llbereally
pissedifyoudothat.Sowill
myboss.Notagoodthingto
havecopsseeninthe
building.Givestheplacea
badrep.Hangon.”
Hegotthedooropenwith
akeycardandcalledout
loudlyagain,“Miss
Chartwell?”
Stillnoresponse.The
insideoftheapartment
seemedunnaturallyhushed.
Thesliceofthelivingroom
thatJuliuscouldseethrough
thepartiallyopendoorway
lookedasifithadbeen
furnishedasamodel
apartmentratherthanahome.
Thecolorschemewasblack
andwhitepunctuatedwith
touchesofredandgray.
Therewasanemptymartini
glasssittingonthelowblack
coffeetable.
Itwasallverysleekand
modernbutitwasalso
impersonal,Juliusthought,as
ifMillicenthadsimply
orderedtheentireroomfrom
afurniturerentalcatalog.It
remindedhimofhisown
condo,althoughhewaspretty
surehisstuffhadcomewitha
muchhigherpricetag.
Millicenthadnotputdown
rootsinSeattle,hedecided.It
lookedasifshewasprepared
tofoldupshopandwalkout
thedooronamoment’s
notice.
“Thatdoesit,”Gracesaid.
“Youtwowaitouthere.I’ll
goseeifshe’sinthere.”
Shesailedintothe
apartmentbeforethedoorman
couldargue.Juliusstoodin
theopeningandwatchedher
gothroughtheemptyliving
roomandpastthekitchen.
Shevanisheddownashort
hall.
Amomentlaterhervoice
rangout.
“Callnine-one-one.She’s
stillalive.”
Thirty-Five
W
henIsawher
lyingtherein
bedIthought
shewasdead,”Grace
whispered.“Shewassostill.
Sopale.Barelybreathing.
Hardlyanypulse.”
ShestoodwithJuliusand
thedoormaninthehallway
outsideMillicent’sapartment
andwatchedthemedics
wedgethegurneyintothe
elevator.Severalresidents
fromnearbyapartmentshad
gatheredtowitnessthe
solemnprocess.Millicent
wasunconscious.Therewas
anoxygenmaskonherface.
“Iheardoneofthemedics
talkingtosomeoneat
Harborview,”thedoorman
saidquietly.“Something
aboutthesituationlooking
likeadeliberateoverdose.
Man,Iwouldneverhave
guessedshewasthetype.”
Therewereseveral
murmursofagreementfrom
thehandfulofotherresidents.
Graceshookherheadand
foldedherarms.“Iwould
neverhavethoughtso,either.
Ican’tbelieveit.”
Juliuslookedatthe
doorman.“Howwelldidyou
knowMissChartwell?”
Thedoormanshrugged.
“Shewasoneofthenicer
tenants.Friendly.Tipped
well.Butwedidn’thavewhat
youwouldcallapersonal
relationship.”
Themuffledwailofthe
ambulancesirenroseand
thenfellinthestreetoutside
thebuilding.Thesmallcrowd
inthehallwaybrokeupas
peopledriftedbacktotheir
ownapartments.
“I’dbettercallmyboss,”
thedoormansaid.Hetook
outhisphone.“Surehopehe
doesn’tgetmad.”
“Forheaven’ssake,”Grace
said,“youjusthelpedrescue
Millicent.Ifshesurvivesit
willbebecauseyou
performedasafetycheckor
whateveritwasyoucalled
it.”
Thedoormanperkedupa
littleatthatandmovedafew
feetawaytotalkonhis
phone.
Thethirty-something
womanwhohademerged
fromtheapartmentnextto
Millicent’sshookherhead.“I
wonderifshewasdepressed
becauseofthatmanshe
broughthomelastnight.”
Graceturnedquickly.
“Whatman?”
“Idon’tknowwhohewas
butI’mguessinghewas
marriedfromthewayhe
acted.Theycameinaround
nineorso.Hewasn’tthefirst
hookupshedraggedhome
fromabarbutIcouldtellby
thewayshelaughedthatthe
guywasdifferent.She
seemedreallyexcited,asifhe
wasspecial.”
Juliusglancedbackinto
theapartment.“Whattime
didheleave?”
“Idon’tknow.Itmusthave
beenaroundten-thirty
becauseIwasgettingready
forbed.Hedidn’tstaygone
forlong,though.”
Gracefrowned.“Whatdo
youmean?”
“IthinkIheardsomeone
outinthehallwaylater.The
dooropenedandclosed.I
assumeditwasthesameman.
Butmaybeitwasoneofher
previoushookups.Who
knows?”
“Howlongdidthesecond
visitorstay?”Juliusasked.
“Idon’tknow,”thewoman
said.“Ifellasleep.”
“Isthereanyoneondutyat
thedoorstationatnight?”
Juliusasked.
“No,justdays,”thewoman
said.
“Soshehadtobuzzinthe
secondvisitor,”Juliussaid.
“Sheknewwhoitwas.”
“Sure,”thewomansaid,a
shruginhervoice.“ButlikeI
toldyou,shewasalways
bringingguyshome.”
Gracewenttothedoorway
oftheapartment.Fromwhere
shestoodshecouldseethe
emptymartiniglassonthe
table.Shehadtoknow,she
thought.Shehadtobesure.
“IthinkIleftmycell
phoneinMillicent’s
bedroom,”shesaidinavoice
pitchedloudenoughtobe
overheardbythetwoorthree
peoplewhowerestillhanging
aroundinthecorridor.“I’m
goingtogetit.I’llberight
back.”
Juliusgaveherasharp
glance.“I’llcomewithyou.”
Shemovedintothe
apartmentandturnedtolook
athim.
“What?”sheaskedquietly.
“Ididn’tseeanysignofa
personalcomputer,”hesaid.
“Nevermetanumbersperson
whodidn’thaveone.”
“Yes,ofcourse,Millicent
hadacomputer.”
“I’mgoingtotakeanother
lookaround.”
Hedisappearedintothe
bedroom.
Sheheadedforthesmall
kitchen,dreadwhispering
throughher.
Shehadnotimaginedit.
Theliquorbottlestoodonthe
counter.Shehadcaughta
glimpseofitearlierwhenshe
rushedpastonherwayto
Millicent’sbedroombutshe
hadnothadtimetotakea
closerlook.Nowshecould
seeitclearly.Shehadbeen
rightaboutthelabel.Acold
sensationwashedthrough
her.
“Damn,”shesaidsoftly.
Juliuscameupbehindher.
“Nocomputer,”hesaid.
Shefelthimgoverystill
whenhesawthebottle.
“Thesamebrandofvodka
thatthestalkerleftinyour
refrigerator,”hesaid.His
voicewasgrim.
“ThesamebrandthatI
foundinSprague’s
bedroom.”Shegestured
towardthebottleonthe
counter.“Millicentdrinks
vodkamartinisbutthatisn’t
herfavoritebrand.Whoever
isstalkingmetriedtomurder
Millicentlastnight.”
Thirty-Six
L
etmegetthis
straight,”Devlin
said.“Youwantme
toreopenaveryold,very
closedmurdercase?”
“We’renottalkingabout
reopeningit,”Juliussaid.
“TheTragermurderwas
solved.Whatwe’relooking
forisaconnectionthatlinks
thatcasetotherecent
Witherspoonmurderand
MillicentChartwell’s
overdose.”
“Aconnectionbesidesthe
obviousone,”Graceadded
verydeliberately,“which
wouldbeme.”
“Whichisyou,”Devlin
agreed.Hecontemplatedher
foramoment.“Interesting.”
Ireneshothimawarning
glare.
“Justmakingan
observation,”Devlinsaid.
Thefourofthemwere
gatheredinGrace’skitchen.
Ithadstartedrainingduring
thedrivebacktoCloudLake.
Thesteadydrizzlewasstill
comingdown.
Thereweretwolargepizza
boxesonthetableandtwo
bottlesofbeer.Therewere
alsotwoglassesofwhite
wine.
IrenegaveGracean
apologeticlook.“Youwere
right.IfoundoutthatDevlin
didaskJuliustogetareadon
youtheothernightwhenyou
haddinnerwithus.”
Devlinwinced.“Now,
honey,Itriedtoexplain—”
“Nevermind,”Gracesaid.
Shegavebothmenasteely
smile.“Oldhistory.Water
underthebridge.I’mwilling
toletbygonesbebygones.
TheapplicableWitherspoon
affirmation,Ibelieve,is
Neverletoldstormscloud
sunnyskies.”
JuliusandDevlin
exchangedmale-to-male
looks.
“Inotherwords,”Julius
said,“she’snevergoingtolet
meforgetthatourfirstdate
wassupposedtobean
undercoverstingoperation.”
Devlinpickeduphisbeer
andeyedGraceoverthetop
ofthebottle.“Butyou’re
preparedtoletbygonesbe
bygones,right?”
“Absolutely,”Gracesaid.
Shegavehimanotheroverly
polishedsmile.“However,
underthecircumstances,I’d
sayyouoweme,don’tyou
agree?”
“Hah,”Irenesaid.“Damn
rightheowesyou.Andme.”
“Iagree,Ioweyouboth,”
Devlinsaid.Hereacheddown
intoasmallbriefcaseand
tookoutalaptop.“AfterIgot
Julius’scalltodayIpulledup
theoldfileontheTrager
murderagain.Thebrandof
vodkawasnotnotedonthe
evidenceinventorybutthere
isaphotoofthebottle.”
Gracecaughtherbreath.
“Samebrandasthethree
bottlesI’vecomeacross
lately?”
“Ithinkso,”Devlinsaid.
“Butit’salittlehardtoread
thelabel.”Hehesitated.
“Crimescenephotoscan
be...disturbing.Areyou
sureyouwanttolookat
these?”
ImagesofTrager’sbloody
maskofafacewhispered
throughGrace’smind.She
swallowedhard.
“TheonlyphotoIwantto
seeisthepictureofthevodka
bottle,”shesaid.“Ineedtobe
sure.”
Devlinnodded.“Allright.
Justthebottle.Noneedto
lookatthebodies.”
“Thanks,”shesaid.
Hetappedafewmorekeys
andthenturnedthelaptop
aroundsothatshecouldsee
thescreen.Shethoughtshe
waspreparedfortheimage
butshewaswrong.Thesight
ofthebrokenvodkabottle
splashedwithdried
bloodstainssentashockof
horrorthroughher.Shehad
killedamanwiththatterrible
weapon.
“Dearheaven,”she
whispered.
Devlinlookedhardather.
“Yousavedalittlekid’slife
andyourown.Neverforget
that.”
“Iwon’t,”Gracesaid.“I
can’t.”
Juliusreachedunderthe
tableandputhishandonher
clenchedfingers.
IrenewatchedGrace
closely.“Areyouokay?”
Gracetookabreathandlet
itoutwithcontrol.“Yes.”
“Well?”Devlinprompted.
“Yes,”Gracesaid.“It’sthe
samebrandthatIsawin
Sprague’sbedroomandin
Millicent’skitchen.Thesame
brandofvodkathatthe
stalkerleftinmy
refrigerator.”
“She’sright,”Juliusadded.
“Samegreen-and-goldlabel.”
HelookedatDevlin.“Weare
nottalkingcoincidence,
Dev.”
“Iagree,”Devlinsaid.
“Butjustsoyouknow,asof
thiseveningtheSeattle
authoritiesarestillconvinced
thatMillicentChartwelltried
tocommitsuicideor
accidentallyoverdosed.They
havefoundnoevidenceof
foulplay,andMillicentis
stillunconscioussonoone
hasbeenabletoquestion
her.”
“Someonetriedtomurder
her,”Gracesaid.“Iknowit.”
“Weneedtofind
somethingelse,”Juliussaid.
“Notmuchtogoonhere
exceptthebottle,”Devlin
said.“Bothmurdersandthe
possibleattempton
Millicent’slifewerecarried
outindifferentways.Mrs.
Tragerwasbeatentodeath.
Witherspoonwasshot.
Millicent’ssituationwas
madetolooklikean
overdose.”
IrenestudiedGrace.“You
saidyougotanemailfrom
Millicentthismorningbutthe
authoritiesthinkshewas
unconscioushoursbeforeyou
gottoherapartment?”
“Yes,”Gracesaid.“When
ItalkedtothepoliceIpointed
outthattheemailwasoutof
characterforherbutthe
consensusisthatitwas
Millicent’swayofsaying
good-byetome.Shedidn’t
haveanyclosefamilyandno
seriousrelationships.Butshe
likedme.Atleast,Ithinkshe
did.Damn.HowcanIeven
besureofthat?ObviouslyI
didn’tknowherwellatall.”
“Speakingof
relationships,”Juliussaid,
“oneofherneighborssaid
Millicenthadamalevisitor
lastnight—possiblytwomale
visitors.Oronewholeftand
returnedanhourlater.”
“Itoldyou,Millicentwas
notaversetothestraybar
pickup,”Gracesaid.“She
likedadventuroussexbutshe
wasn’tstupidaboutit.”
Theyalllookedather.
Neithermansaidaword.
Ireneclearedherthroat.
“Somepeoplewouldsay
thatadventuroussexisa
workingdefinitionofstupid,”
Irenesaid.“MaybeMillicent
justtookthewrongman
home.Heleft,thencame
backlaterandmurderedher.”
“Thatwouldn’texplainthe
coincidenceofthevodka
bottle,”Juliuspointedout.He
pickeduphisbeer.“Huh.”
Theyalllookedathim.
“What?”Devlinasked.
“TheTragermurderwas
clearlydomesticviolence,”
Juliussaid.“Weareassuming
thatthemotivein
Witherspoon’sdeathandthe
attemptonMillicent’slife
involvesmoney.Butthereis
onlyonereasonwhy
someonewouldleavethe
bottlesofvodkaatthescenes
ofthecrimes.”
“Toimplicateme,”Grace
said.“Yes,thatpossibility
hasnotescapedmyattention.
Ifthecopseverfigurethat
out—”Shebrokeoffand
lookedatDevlin.“Uh—”
Hegaveherahumorless
smile.“Right.I’macop.”
“Yes,”shesaidvery
politely.“Iknow.”
“Iamalso,believeitor
not,yourfriend,”headded.
“Absolutely,”Irenesaid.
GracegaveDevlinathin
smile.“Uh-huh.Right.
Thanks.”
“Damn,lady,yousuredo
knowhowtoholdagrudge,”
Devlinsaid.
“Ineverholdgrudges,”
Graceassuredhim.“They
interferewithone’sinner
balance.”
“Goodtoknow,”Devlin
said.Buttherewasasparkof
amusementinhiscopeyes.
Juliusfixedhisattentionon
Devlin.“Who,besidesthe
CloudLakePolice,wouldbe
likelytohaveaccesstothe
informationintheTrager
file?”
Devlinshookhishead.
“Nowaytotellforsure.Itall
happenedyearsago.Before
mytimehere.Butanyone
whowentdiggingintothe
recordscouldhavefoundthat
detailaboutthebottle.He
wouldhavehadtolookdamn
hard,though.LikeIsaid,the
bottlewasenteredinto
evidencebutthelabelwas
evidentlynotconsidereda
criticalelement.Atleast,no
onemadeanoteofit.”He
gesturedtowardtheimageon
thescreen.“Takealook.You
canhardlymakeitoutdueto
the—”
Hestopped.Noone
finishedthesentenceout
loud.ButGracehearditin
herhead.Youcanhardly
makeitoutduetothe
bloodstains.
“AsDevlinjusttoldyou,
hewasn’thereatthetime,”
Irenesaid,interrupting
quickly.“Itwasahugestory
locally,ofcourse.Everyone
intownknewaboutthe
murderandthatGracehad
usedabrokenliquorbottleto
defendherself.However,I
seriouslydoubtthatanyone
outsidethepolicewouldhave
beenawareofthelabel.I
certainlydon’trememberit
andIwaspayingclose
attentionbecausemybest
friendhadnearlybeen
murdered.”
“Sosomeonewentlooking
fordetailsofthecase,”Julius
said.Heleanedbackinhis
chairandstraightenedhis
legsunderthetable.“There
seemtobealotofpieces
here.”
“Thetwothugswhotried
tomugyouintheparking
garageatyourcondo,”Devlin
said.“Whatwasthatabout?”
“Couldhavebeena
randomthing,”Irene
ventured.
“No,”Juliussaid.“It
wasn’trandom.”
“Someonewastryingto
frightenyouoff,Julius.”
Graceturnedabruptlyinher
chairtolookathim.“They
weretryingtoscareyouaway
fromme.Theyintendedto
putyouinthehospital—
maybeworse.You’retoo
closetome—practicallya
bodyguard.”
Theyalllookedather.
“She’sright,”Devlinsaid.
“Someonewantsyououtof
thepicture,Julius.It’sthe
onlyexplanationthatfits.I
knowyou’rekeeping
companywithGracenowbut
Iorderedextrapatrolsonthis
streetforthenextfew
nights.”
“Thanks,”Juliussaid.
ThirtySeven
S
hefeltJuliusleave
thebedshortly
beforedawn.When
sheturnedherheadonthe
pillowshesawhimstanding
atthewindowlookingout
overthelake.Shepushedthe
coversaside,gotupandwent
tojoinhim.
“You’replanning
something,”shesaid.It
wasn’taquestion.Mentally
shebracedherselfforwhat
sheknewwascoming.“Ican
tellthatyou’reworkingona
strategy.”
Heputanarmaroundher
shouldersandpulledher
closeagainsthisside.
“Ihatetoaskthis,”hesaid,
“butwouldyoubewillingto
walkmethroughthecrime
sceneattheCloudLakeInn?”
“SomehowIjustknewyou
weregoingtosuggestthatwe
takealookattheplacewhere
itallhappened.”
“Sorry,”hesaid.“ButI
thinkit’ssomethingIneedto
do.”
“It’sokay,”shesaid.“I’m
willingtodoitbutIdoubt
thatthereisanythingleftto
findafterallthistime.Itold
you,theplacehasbeen
abandonedforyears.
Betweenthekidswhohave
useditforpartiesandthe
transientswhohavecamped
outthere,anyevidencethat
mighthavebeenleftatthe
scenewillhavedisappeared
bynow.”
“Ijustwanttoseeitfor
myself.Ineedtofigureout
whatwe’remissing.”
“Allright,”shesaid.“The
sunwillbecomingupsoon.
Let’sdoitthismorning.”
Juliusturnedherinhis
armsanddrewherclose.
“Ihatetoputyouthrough
this,”hesaid.“Iknowit
won’tbeeasyforyou.”
“Goingbackintothatplace
can’tpossiblybeanyworse
thanwonderingwhysomeone
ismurderingandattempting
tomurderpeopleIknowand
leavingthosebottlesofvodka
atthescenes.”
“Whenmorningcomes,
we’llgototheinn.”
“Okay.”Shelookedoutthe
window.Dawnwasonthe
waybutitwouldbeawhile
beforerealdaylightappeared.
Nevertheless,sheknewshe
wouldnotbeabletogoback
tosleep,notnowthatshe
knewwhatlayahead.
“There’snotmuchpoint
goingbacktobed.I’llgotake
ashowerandgetdressed.”
“That’saplan.”Julius
cuppedherfaceinhishands.
“ButI’vegotabetterone.”
Hiskisswasallslow-burn
seductionandachingneed.
Shewrappedherarmsaround
hisneckandgaveherselfup
totheembrace.Hepickedher
up,carriedheracrossthe
roomandputherdownonthe
rumpledbed.
Hestraightenedlong
enoughtostripoffhisbriefs
andthenhegotinbesideher.
Heleanedoverher,caging
herwithhisarms.Hebrushed
hismouthacrosshers.
Thesweet,hottension
builtdeepinsideher.She
reacheduptotouchtheside
ofhisfacewithherfingertips.
Heturnedhisheadandkissed
herpalm.
“Julius,”shesaid.
Shefelthisteethlightly
grazeherthroatandthenhe
begantoworkhiswaydown
herbody.Helingeredover
her.Bythetimehismouth
reachedherbreasts,shewas
twistingbeneathhisweight.
Whenhereachedherbelly
shesankhernailsintohis
shoulders.
“Julius.”
Shealmostscreamedwhen
histonguetouchedtheinside
ofherthighs.Shedidscream
whenhefoundhertight,full
core.Herreleaseflashedand
sparkedthroughher.
Beforeitwasoverhe
shifted.Herolledontohis
backandpulledherdownon
topofhim.
Andsoonitwashislow,
rumblinggrowlof
satisfactionthatechoedinthe
bedroom.
Thirty-Eight
T
hisplacewasa
magnetfor
teenagersbackin
theday,”Gracesaid.“Butnot
somuchanymore.Thelocal
kidshavefoundotherplaces
toparty.”
Theywerestandingonthe
pathinfrontoftheold
asylum.Juliushadasmall
boxoftoolsinonehand.
Gracewassurprisedather
owninnercalm.Shefelt
remarkablysteadyand
absolutelydetermined.There
wasstillthepossibilitythat
thesenseofclaustrophobia
andanaccompanyinganxiety
attackwouldstrikewhenthey
enteredtheboarded-up
building.ButfornowJulius’s
beliefthatreturningtothe
scenewouldprovidesome
answershadastrengthening
effectonherresolve.
Itwoulddonogoodfor
himtogoinsideonhisown,
shetoldherself.Heneeded
hertogivehimthevisuals.
Shecoulddothis.
Ithadstoppedrainingbut
thetreesstilldrippedandthe
surfaceofthelakemirrored
thesteel-graysky.Therewas
anotherstormontheway.
“Icanseewhyaseriesof
ownerstriedtoturnthe
asylumintoaninn.”Julius
studiedthefrontofthe
decayingstructure.“Good
bones,astheysay.Classic
Victorianarchitecture.”
“Itdatesfromanerawhen
peoplebelievedthatthe
hospitalbuildingsdesigned
forpatientswithmental
healthissuesshouldbepartof
thecure,”Graceexplained.
“Thetheorywasthattall
windows,highceilingsand
tranquillandscapingwould
liftthespiritsandsoothethe
nerves.”
“Notabadtheory,as
theoriesgo.Probablyshould
havebuiltthehospital
someplacewherethere’s
moresunlight,though.”
“Yes,”shesaid.“Itisvery
darkatthisendofthelake
becauseofthewoodsandthe
hillside.”Shelookedathim.
“Howdoyouwanttodo
this?”
Juliusconsideredbriefly.
“Whatmadeyougoinside
thatday?”
“Sheerteenagecuriosity.I
wasonmywaytovisitIrene
thatafternoon.Itookthelake
path,asusual.WhenIgotto
thisplaceIstoppedtotakea
lookaroundinside.”
“Wasthatusual,too?”
“Ididn’talwaysstop,”she
assuredhim.“Buttherewere
rumorsthatsomeoftheA-list
kidshadheldapartyinthe
asylumthatweek.Sexand
drugswereassumedtohave
beeninvolved.Thequestion
ofwhichA-listgirlwas
sleepingwithwhichA-list
boywasalwaysahottopic.I
decidedtotakealooktosee
ifanyclueshadbeenleft
behind.WhenIsawthatthe
plywoodononeoftheside
doorshadbeenremoved,I
knewIwasontosomething.
So,Iwentinside.”
“Whichdoor?”
“Thatone.”Shepointed
towardthesheetofplywood
thatcoveredthedoor.“It’s
boardedupnow.”
“Let’sgo.”
Juliusledtheway
alongsidethebuilding.When
hereachedtheboarded-up
doorhestoppedandsetdown
thetoolbox.Shewatchedhim
opentheboxandremovea
crowbar.
Itdidn’ttakelongtopry
offthesheetofplywood.
Juliussetitaside.Grace
movedtostandbesidehim.
Togethertheylookedintothe
deepgloomofwhathadonce
beenalargekitchen.The
doorsaggedonrustyhinges.
Alloftheoldapplianceshad
longsincedisappeared.The
wallswerebatteredandworn.
Juliustooktwoflashlights
outofthetoolbox.Hehanded
onetoGrace.
“Ready?”heasked.
Helookedconcernedand
serious,sherealized.Butshe
couldseethathedidnot
expecthertolosehernerve.
Theknowledgethathehad
faithinherfortitude
strengthenedherresolve.
“Yes,”shesaid.
Sheswitchedonher
flashlightandmovedintothe
kitchen.
“Allright,youenteredhere
toseeifyoucouldfindany
remnantsoftheparty,”Julius
said.“Tellmewhathappened
next.”
“Iwalkedthroughthe
kitchenandintothehall.I
remembermyfootsteps
echoed.”
Sheretracedthepathshe
hadtakenthatday.Thechill
ofdarkmemoryandold
nightmaresraisedgoose
bumpsbutshekeptgoing.
Juliusfollowedclosebehind.
Thebasementdoorwas
shut.Shestoppedinfrontof
it.
“Iheardthumpingsounds,”
shesaid.
“Goon,”Juliussaid.
“Somethingaboutthe
thumpingsoundedurgent—
frantic.Iopenedthedoor.”
“Itwasn’tlocked?”
“No,Isupposetherewas
nowayforTragertolockit,
thatday.ButIdon’tthinkhe
wasworriedthatanyone
wouldgointothebasement.
Heknewtheboycouldn’t
escapebecausehewasbound
handandfootwithducttape.
Mark’smouthwastapedshut,
too.Icouldn’tbelieveitwhen
Isawthepoorkidatthe
bottomofthestairs.Ithought
somebullyhadlefthim
there.”
“Howdidhegetyour
attention?”
“Heheardmecomeinto
thehouse.Hecouldn’t
screamforhelpbutheused
hisfeettokickawoodenbox
thatwasonthefloor.Hekept
kickingtheboxuntilIopened
thedoor.”
“Smartkid.”
“Yes.Hetoldmelaterthat
hemadethenoisebecausehe
couldtellmyfootstepswere
differentfromTrager’s.”
“DidyouknowMark?”
“No.Hisfamilylivedon
theothersideoftown,next
doortotheTragers,asit
turnedout.”
“Let’sgodownandtakea
look,”Juliussaid.
Icandothis,Grace
thought.
Sheswitchedonher
flashlightandstarteddown
thestairs.Whenshereached
thebottomshestoppedand
lookedaround.
“Ididn’tseethebodyat
first.IgotMarkoutofthe
tapeandhestartedcrying.He
clungtomeandwouldn’tlet
go.AtthatpointIwasstill
thinkingthatitwasthework
ofalocalbully.ButMark
keptsayingMrs.Trageris
hurt.Mrs.Tragerishurt.I
sawwhatIthoughtwasa
sleepingbag.Itturnedoutto
beMrs.Trager’sbody
wrappedinplastic.”
“DidMarkunderstandthat
TragerhadmurderedMrs.
Trager?”
“Notexactly.Hetoldme
thatMr.TragerhadhurtMrs.
Tragerandthatnowshewas
asleepandwouldn’twakeup.
Ididn’tknowmuchabout
domesticabuseinthosedays.
I’dheardthetermbutIdidn’t
fullyunderstand.Itwasn’t
somethingI’deverhadto
contendwith,thankheavens.”
“Wherewasthebody?”
Juliusasked.
Thecalm,deliberateway
hespokehelpedherfocus.
“Overthere.”Shewalked
slowlyacrossthespaceand
stoppedagain,remembering.
“WhenIgotcloseIcouldsee
Mrs.Trager’sfacethrough
thelayersofplasticwrap.Her
eyeswereopen.Iwillnever
forgetwhatshelookedlike.It
finallydawnedonmethatI
hadstumbledintoamurder
scene.IstartedtotellMark
thatwehadtogetoutofthe
houseandgethelp.That’s
whenweheardit.”
Juliusaimedhisflashlight
intotheshadows.“Whatdid
youhear?”
“Atruckengineintheyard
outfront.ItoldMarkthatwas
agoodsign.Itmeantthere
wasanadultwhocouldhelp
us.ButMarkwassuddenly
paralyzedwithfear.He
recognizedthesoundofthe
truck,yousee.”
“Whathappened?”
“HesaiditwasMr.Trager
comingbackandthathewas
goingtohurtbothofusjust
likehehurtMrs.Trager.The
kidwassocalmaboutit.I
thinkhewasbeyondcryingat
thatpoint.Afterall,therewas
amonstercomingforhim.
Whatcouldyoudowhen
facingamonster?”
“Wherewasthevodka
bottle?”Juliusasked.
“Nexttothebody.I
grabbeditbecausetherewas
nothingelsearoundtouseas
aweapon.”
“Wheredidyouandthe
boyhide?”
“Overthere,underthe
stairs.”
Gracemadeherselfcross
thedampconcretefloortothe
darkshadowsalongsidethe
stairs.“ItoldMarkthatwe
wouldgetawaybutthatfor
nowhemustnotmakea
sound.ItoldhimthatwhenI
saidrun,hewastohead
straightupthestairsandget
outofthehouseasfastashe
couldandkeepgoinguntilhe
foundanadult.”
“Hedidwhatyoutold
him?”
“Yes.HewassoscaredI
thinkhewouldhaveobeyed
anyadultinthatmoment.It
tookTragerafewsecondsto
realizethatMarkwasn’t
wherehehadlefthim.Trager
evidentlyassumedthekid
washuddlinginsomecorner
ofthebasementandstartedto
searchtheplacewithhis
flashlight.IhauledMarkout
oftheshadowsandtoldhim
togo.Hedashedupthestairs.
Itriedtofollowhimbut
Tragercaughtholdofmy
jacket.Ismashedthebottle
againsttherailingandslashed
atTrager’sfacewiththe
brokenglass.”
“Goodgirl,”Juliussaid
quietly.
“Therewassuddenlyblood
everywhere.Itwasraining
blood.”
Juliussaidnothingbuthe
cametostandbesideher.He
putonearmaroundher
shoulders.
Breathe.
Shesteadiedherself.
“TragerscreamedwhenIcut
him.Heletgoofmyjacket
andtoppledbackward.Ikept
goingupthestairs.WhenI
reachedthetopMarkwas
alreadyoutside,running
alongthelakesidepath.I
caughtupwithhim.The
nearestlakefronthouseswere
empty.Theyweresummer
homesinthosedaysandthis
allhappenedinwinter.My
momandsisterweren’tat
homethatdaybutMrs.
Gilroywas.”
“She’stheonewhocalled
thepolice?”
“Yes.Shelockedallthe
doorstokeepussafefrom
Mr.Tragerincasehechased
afterus.Thenshegotherbig
pruningshearsoutofthe
closet.Iwillneverforgetthe
sightofherholdingthose
shears,readytodefendus
againstTrager.Buthedidn’t
comeafterus.Becausehe
wasdeadatthebottomofthe
basementstairs.”
“Youdidtheworldafavor,
Grace.Butthereisalwaysa
pricetobepaidforthatkind
ofthing.”
“Yes.”
Juliusremovedhisarmand
walkedslowlyaroundthe
basement.Thebeamofhis
flashlightsweptbackand
forthinasearchpattern.
“Thereisn’tanylogicto
whathasbeengoingonwhen
welookatthingsintermsof
thepresent,”hesaid.“We
needtoviewthemfromthe
past.”
“Howdowedothat?”
Juliuswassilentforalong
moment.“YousaidthatMrs.
Tragerwaswatchingtheboy
forherneighborthatday.”
“That’sright.Thepoorkid
justhappenedtobeinthe
wrongplaceatthewrong
time.AsDevlinsaid,the
policebelievethatTrager
intendedtodrownMarkand
hopetheauthoritieswould
thinkthedeathwasjust
anotherlakeaccident.”
“Whataboutthefamily?”
Juliussaid.
“TheRamshaws?Idon’t
knowmuchaboutthem.They
movedtoCaliforniasoon
aftertheTragermurder.Mom
saidtheyfelttheyneededto
getMarkawayfromthetown
wherehehadbeen
kidnapped.I’msurehe’shad
afewnightmaresoverthe
years,aswell.”
“NottheRamshaw
family,”Juliussaid.“Trager’s
family.Didheandhiswife
haveanychildren?”
“No,”Gracesaid.Thenshe
stoppedforabeat,
rememberingsomeofthe
thingsshehadoverheardin
thepast.“ButTragerhad
beenmarriedbefore.I
remembermymothertalking
toBillings,thechiefofpolice
atthetime.Ioverheardhim
sayingsomethingabout
Tragerhavingahistoryof
domesticviolenceandthat
hisfirstwifehaddivorced
him.Why?”
“I’mnotsure.Justlooking
forconnections.”
Gracemanagedashaky
smile.“Isthishowyougo
aboutanalyzing
investments?”
“Prettymuch.Thetrickis
tolookforthestuffthatis
hidingintheshadows.”
“Youknow,there’sa
Witherspoonaffirmationthat
sumsupyourapproachto
problemsolving.”
“What’sthat?”Julius
asked.
“Lookdeep.Theimportant
thingsarealwaysjust
beneaththesurface.”
“IthinkI’llsticktomy
rules.”
“Trustnooneand
Everyonehasahidden
agenda.”
“Whenitcomestowords
toliveby,Ibelievein
simplicity,”Juliussaid.
“Whatever.”
“Don’ttellmethat’sa
Witherspoonaffirmation.”
“Sometimesit’stheonly
appropriateresponsetoa
situation,”Gracesaid.
Thirty-Nine
R
alphTragerhad
twochildrenbya
previousmarriage,
aboyandagirl,”Gracesaid.
Shestudiedtheinformation
shehadpulleduponher
computer.“Thenameswere
RandalandCrystal.Thefirst
wifeneverremarriedbutshe
movedinwithaseriesof
boyfriendsforawhile.”
“I’llbetthatdidn’tgo
well,”Juliussaid.
“Itlookslikeshehadreally
badtastewhenitcameto
men.Acoupleofthe
boyfriendssolddrugsfora
livingandonewasarrested
forabusingthedaughter.”
Gracesatbackinherchair.
“Howmanytimeshavewe
heardthatsadstory?”
Juliuspickedupthe
coffeepotandcarrieditacross
thekitchentothetable.
“Whathappenedtothefirst
wifeandkids?”
“Let’ssee.”Graceleaned
forwardandscrolledthrough
moredata.“Lookslikethe
formerMrs.Tragerandthe
daughter,Crystal,diedina
carcrash.Randal,theson,
wentintofostercare,moved
throughaseriesofhomesand
thenjustsortofdisappeared
foracoupleofyears.”
“Probablydecidedlifewas
betteronthestreets.Anything
else?”
Gracescrolledthrough
somemoredata.“Randalheld
aseriesofpart-timecontract
jobs,mostoftheminvolving
computersandprogramming.
Lookslikehehadanaptitude
forthatsortofthing.”
Juliuslookedoutoverthe
lake.“Goon.”
Gracewentbacktoher
screen.“Hecametoabad
end.Hewasarrestedonfraud
chargesandgotsixmonths
andprobation.Hediedina
boatingaccidentsoonafterhe
wasreleased.”
“Soitlookslikeeveryone
inTrager’sfamilyisdead.”
“Yes.”Gracepickedupher
mug.“Whatatragic
scenario.”
Juliusleanedbackinhis
chairandswallowedsome
coffee.“It’salsoavery
convenientscenario.”
Gracelookedathimover
thetopofthemug.“Arewe
backtotrustnoone?”
“Weare,”Juliussaid.“In
lightofthisnewevidence,we
needtoreevaluateour
findingsonallofthe
charactersinourlittle
drama.”
“What’storeevaluate?
We’vealreadycheckedout
everyoneinvolved.”
“Butnowwe’lldoitfrom
anotherperspective,”Julius
said.“We’vegotasituation
thatinvolvesfraud,andat
leastonecharacterinour
storydidtimeforfraud.”
“Yes,severalyearsago,
butRandalTragerwaskilled
afterhegotoutofjail.”
“Maybe.”
“Devlin’sright,youreally
dothinklikeacop.Maybe
youmissedyourcalling.”
“Idon’tlikeguns,”Julius
said.
“Okay,thatmighthave
beenaproblemforyouifyou
hadpursuedacareerinlaw
enforcement.”
Aphonerang.Juliusthis
time.Heglancedatthescreen
andtookthecall.
“Whathaveyougotfor
me,Eugene?”hesaid.
Helistenedattentivelyfor
afewminutes.
“Thatwouldexplainafew
things,”hesaid.“Including
hiscareerpath.Thanks,
Eugene.You’vedonesome
reallyfineworkonthis.Yes,
Iwillletyouknowhowitall
comesout.No,youcannot
quittogoworkfortheFBI.It
doesn’tpaynearlyaswellas
ArkwrightVenturesdoes.”
Juliushungupandlooked
atGrace.
“Well?”sheprompted.
“ItappearsthatSprague
Witherspoonmayhavehada
secretpast,onehetriedto
buryalongtimeago.Itmay
explaintheblackmail.”
Grace’sheartsank.“Oh,
no.Pleasedon’ttellme
Spraguewasacriminal.”
“Hedidtimeunderanother
nameforfraud.”
“Damn.”Graceclosedher
eyes.“Ireally,reallyadmired
him,youknow.”
“Iknow,”Juliussaid
gently.
Sheopenedhereyes.“I’ll
betthatafterhegotoutof
prisonhereinventedhimself
forgoodandcommitted
himselftohelpingother
peoplemakenewlivesfor
themselves.Whenyouthink
aboutit,that’savery
inspiringstory.”
“That’sdefinitelyoneway
ofinterpretingthefacts,”
Juliussaid.
Shebeetledherbrows.
“It’smyinterpretationofthe
factsuntilprovenotherwise.”
“Thereisthelittleissueof
hispossiblegambling
addictionandthe
embezzlementthing.”
Sheglared.
Hemovedonehandina
dismissivegesture.“Fine.
Innocentuntilprovenguilty.
Whatever.”
Therumbleofavehicle
pullingintothedrivestopped
Gracebeforeshecouldstart
askingquestions.Shegotto
herfeetandwentoutintothe
livingroom.Thefamiliar
logoofanovernightpackage
deliverycompanywas
emblazonedonthesideofthe
largevanparkedinfrontof
thehouse.Shewatchedthe
uniformeddriverclimbout.
Hecameupthefrontsteps,a
boxinonehand.
Sheopenedthedoor.
“GraceElland?”hesaid.
“Thatwouldbeme.”
“Gotapackageforyou.”
“Thanks,”Gracesaid.She
glancedatthereturnaddress
andrecognizedthenameof
theSeattlechocolatier.
“Candy.Thisisasurprise.”
“Signhere,please.”
Shescrawledhernameand
tookthepackage.The
deliverymangotbackintothe
truckandrumbleddownthe
drivetowardtheroad.
Gracecarriedtheboxof
chocolatesbackintothe
kitchenandsetitdownonthe
table.Shetoreofftheouter
wrapping.
“Truffles,”shesaid.“My
favorite.Someoneknowsme
well.”
Juliuseyedtheboxwith
narrowedeyes.“Boyfriend?”
“Itoldyou,Idon’thave
oneatthemoment.”She
pickeduptheenvelopethat
hadbeentapedtothetopof
thebox.“Well,exceptfor
you,thatis.”
“GoodtoknowthatIcount
asaboyfriend.”
Sheignoredthesarcasm
andrippedopentheenvelope.
Foramomentshecouldonly
stareatthesignature.
“Oh,shit,”shesaid.
“Notwhatmostpeoplesay
whentheyopenaboxof
truffles,”Juliussaid.“Don’t
keepmeinsuspense.Who
sentthecandy?”
“Millicent.”
Forty
T
hisistoocreepy,”
Gracesaid.
Shesatatthe
kitchentableandstaredatthe
rowsofelegantchocolates.It
mightaswellhavebeen
snakesorscorpionsinthe
box,shethought.Allright,
maybenotquitethatbad.
Nevertheless,shewasvery
sureshewouldnotbeeating
thetruffles.
“Accordingtothelabel,
theboxwassentyesterday
directlyfromthestore,”
Juliussaid.Helookeddown
atthechocolatesfromthe
oppositesideofthetable.
“Overnightdelivery,”
Gracesaid.“ButMillicent
wasunconsciousallday
yesterdayandlastnight.As
farasweknowshestillisn’t
awakeShecouldn’thavesent
thisboxofcandy.”
“Yougotanemailfrom
heryesterdaymorningandall
indicationsarethatshewas
unconsciousatthetimeitwas
sent,”Juliussaid.“If
Millicentisthesender,she
couldhavescheduledthe
emailandthechocolates
beforeshewasdrugged.
Probablythoughtshecould
cancelbothifeverything
wentaccordingtoplan.”
“Butsomethingwent
wrong,sotheemailandthe
chocolatesgotsent
automatically.Butwhyme?”
“Lookslikeyouwereher
backupplan,”Juliussaid.
“Bettertakeacloselookat
thatcandy.”
“Notthecandy.”Grace
heldupthesmallwhitecard.
“It’sallrighthereinthe
note.”
Shereaditaloud.
Grace,ifyou’re
readingthis,it’s
probablybecauseI’m
dead.Idon’tthinkthat
thereareanygood
affirmationsforthis
situation.Itsucks.
Considerthismywill.
I’mleavingmy
retirementsavingsto
youeventhoughIknow
you’llprobablyhandit
overtothatungrateful
bitch,Nyla.Ican’t
bringmyselftodoit,
that’sforsure.Ihope
youwillatleastkeepa
commissionfor
yourself,butyou
probablywon’tdothat
either.Itmustbehard
alwaystryingtodothe
rightthing.ButIwill
sayitwasrather
entertainingwatching
youdoit.Itwasfun
knowingyouforthe
pastyearandahalf,so
atleastdomeafavor
andenjoythe
chocolates.
Thenotewasfollowedby
thenameofabankGracehad
neverheardofandalong
stringofnumbers.
“Offshoreaccount?”Grace
asked.
“Ithink,underthe
circumstances,wecan
assumethat’sthecase.”
Juliussatdownatthetable
andopenedhislaptop.“Easy
enoughtofindout.”
Ashorttimelaterhehad
theanswer.
“It’sanoffshoreaccount,
allright.Andallyouneedto
accessitisthatnumbershe
wroteonthecard.There’sa
sizablesuminvolvedhere.A
fewmillion.”
“Soshewasembezzling
fromSprague.”Grace
proppedherelbowsonthe
tableandcuppedherchinin
bothhands.“Sheseemed—
seems—likesuchanice
person.Alwayssocheerful.
Lotsofpositiveenergy.”
“Ihaveahunchthat
knowingshewasrakingina
tidylittlefortuneandsetting
itasideforherretirementwas
thereasonshewasalwaysso
cheerfulandpositive.”
“Well,thisdoesanswer
onequestion,”Gracesaid.
“Wenowknowwherethe
moneywent.Andweknow
thatSpraguewasn’t
embezzlingthefunds.”
“Weknowsomethingelse,
too,”Juliussaid.“Miss
Cheerfulprobablydidn’ttry
tokillherself.Shewas
lookingforwardtoanearly
retirementandthepleasureof
spendingthecashthatshe
hadstashedinthatisland
bank.Iwonderhowshe
plannedtobringthemoney
backtotheStateswithout
arousingtheinterestofthe
authorities.”
“Inasuitcase?”Grace
suggested.
“Carryingafewmillion
bucksthroughcustomsisa
high-riskgame.”Juliusshook
hishead.“Thiskindof
moneyneedstobescrubbed
clean.”
“Isupposethenextstepis
tocallDevlin,”Gracesaid
withoutmuchenthusiasm.
“AndthenI’llhavetochat
withtheSeattlecops.Again.”
“Devcomesfirst.”Julius
tookouthisphone.“Someone
isgoingtogetthecreditfor
whatamountstoaverybig
breakinthecase.Mightas
wellbehim.”
“Isupposeso,”Gracesaid.
Juliussmiledbriefly.
“Trustme,Devisonour
side.”
“I’lltakeyourwordforit.
ButI’mgoingtocallNyla
andtellherthatIthinkwe
foundherinheritance.”
“Thatnoteandtheaccount
numberareevidence,”Julius
pointedoutinaneutraltone.
“Wearegoingtogivebothto
Dev.”
“Fine,whatever,”Grace
said.Shetookoutherphone.
“ButNylahasarighttoknow
thatwefoundhermoney.”
Juliuscheckedhiswatch.
“I’vegotameetinginSeattle
thisafternoon.Nosense
draggingyoualong.CanI
trustyoutostaywithIreneat
hershop?”
Graceglared.“I’mnota
kid.Idon’tneeda
babysitter.”
“You’reawomanwitha
stalker—astalkerwhomay
beescalating.Youneeda
babysitter.”
“Right.Yes,ofcourse,I’ll
stayatIrene’sshop.When
willyougetback?”
“Ishouldbehomeby
dinner.Justmakesureyou
arewithIreneandDevuntilI
return.”
Forty-One
I
twasallfallingapart.
Thebiggestscoreofhis
lifewascrashingand
burningaroundhim.Ifhe
didn’tgetoutfasthewould
getcrushedintherubble.
Burketossedthehandtailored,neatlylaunderedand
foldedshirtsintothesuitcase
andwentbacktotheclosetto
zipthedesignerjacketsintoa
carryingbag.Hehadspenta
fortuneontheclotheshe
knewheneededforthejob.
Hewasnotgoingtoleave
thembehind.
Hehadputtheplan
togetherwiththeprecisionof
amilitarycommander
preparingforbattle.Every
detail,fromarésumésosolid
itcouldhavewithstooda
high-levelgovernment
backgroundcheck—notthat
thegovernmentwasthatgood
atbackgroundchecks—tothe
datesonhisdriver’slicense,
hadbeenengineeredto
perfection.
Thetiminghadbeen
perfectateverystepofthe
wayuntilthatfirstmistake.
Hehadtoldhimselfthat
leavingthevodkabottleatthe
sceneofWitherspoon’sdeath
wasaharmlesswhim.Itwas
anerrorbutasurvivableone.
FindingoutthatNyla’s
inheritancehadvanishedhad
comeasastunningshock,
however.He’dalmostcuthis
lossesthedayherealizedthat
someoneelsehadgottento
themoneyfirst.He’dtornthe
Witherspoonofficesapartand
thenhackedthethree
computersinadesperate
efforttofindthekeytothe
cash.Heknewthethiefhad
tobeamemberofthestaff.It
wastheonlyanswerthat
madesense.
ThenMillicenthadmade
himanofferthatseemedtoo
goodtobetrue.Forawhileit
lookedlikeitwouldbe
possibletosalvagethe
situation.
NowMillicentwasina
drug-inducedcomaandmight
wakeupandstarttalkingat
anyminute.Anothermistake.
Sheshouldhavedied.He’d
searchedherapartmentand
gonethroughhercomputer
buthehadfoundnoclueto
themissingmoney.Without
theaccountinfo,therewasno
waytogetatit.Itmightas
wellbeburiedatsea.
Theoldrageroseoutof
nowhere,washingthrough
himinaredtide.Hehad
plannedsodamnedcarefully.
Hedroppedthesuitcarrier
onthebedandslammedafist
againstthewallofthe
bedroom.Ithurtlikehelland
itdredgedupoldmemories
fromhischildhood—stuff
thathehatedremembering—
buthefeltbetteralmost
immediately.Hisheartrate
slowedandhisbreathing
wentbacktonormal.
Sometimesamanjusthadto
letoffalittlesteam.
Theapartmentsecurity
intercombuzzed,startling
him.Hedebatedwhetheror
nottoansweritandthen
decidedtopickup.
“ThisisGraysonatthe
doorstation.Miss
Witherspoonisheretosee
you,sir.”
Shit.Thelastthinghe
neededwasavisitfromNyla.
Buthesurvivedbyadhering
tocertainrules.Thefirstrule
ofawell-runconwastostay
intheroleuntilyouwereout
oftown.Withoneperson
deadandanotherinthe
hospital,itwasvery,very
importanttosticktotherules.
“Pleasesendherup,
Grayson,”hesaid.“Thanks.”
Heendedthecalland
lookedaroundthebedroom.
Hehadtomakecertainthat
Nyladidn’trealizehewas
planningtoflyoutofSeattle
thatafternoon.
Heleftthebedroom,
closingthedooronthescene
oftheopensuitcases.
Thedoorbellchimed.He
tookabreathandfocusedon
channelingBurkeMarrick,
scionofawealthySouthern
Californiafamilythathad
madeitsmoneyinrealestate.
Whenheopenedthedoor
hesawNyla’sfaceandknew
atoncethateverythinghad
changed.Shewasintearsbut
theyweretearsofjoy.
Shethrewherselfintohis
arms.
“Ijustgotacallfrom
Grace,”Nylasaid.“Ican
hardlybelieveit,butshesays
theyfoundmymoney.That
bitchMillicentChartwellwas
theembezzler.Ishouldhave
known.Shehandledallof
Dad’smoney.Shehid
millionsinsomedamnisland
bankandmoremoneyis
goingineveryday,thanksto
thewebsiteandblog
revenue.”
Forty-Two
I
twasfour-thirtybythe
timeJuliuswalkedout
oftheoffice.Anearly
wintertwilight,madeeven
darkerbyaheavycloud
cover,hadsettledonthecity.
Hepausedjustinsidethe
parkinggarageanddida
quickvisualscan.Therewere
ahandfulofotherpeople
headingtowardtheircars.
Officeworkers,heconcluded.
Nothinglookedorfeltwrong.
Onelittlemuggingandyou
startactinglikeyou’reback
inawarzoneeverytimeyou
walkthroughagarage.Geta
grip,man.
Hetookalastlookaround
beforeheopenedthedriver’ssidedooroftheSUV.Again,
nothingappearedoutof
place.Hegotbehindthe
wheel,tookouthisphoneand
calledhome.
Home.Wherehadthat
thoughtcomefrom?He
wasn’tcallinghome,hewas
callingGrace.Butsomehow
itwasalloneandthesame.
Sheansweredonthefirst
ring.
“Howdidthemeetinggo?”
sheasked.
“Themeetingwentfine,”
Juliussaid.“Thedealwillnet
asizablechunkofchange
withinfiveyears.Mystaffis
celebratingattheclosestbar.”
“Butyou’rebored.”
“Itwasaverydull
meeting.I’monmywayback
toCloudLakenow.Should
bethereinalittleoveran
hour,dependingontraffic.
I’llstopbymyplaceand
changeclothes.ThenI’ll
walktoyourhouse.You’re
stillwithIrene?”
“Yes,indeed,aspromised.
We’reathershop.Devlinis
goingtojoinusassoonashe
leaveshisoffice.We’llpick
upsometakeoutandthengo
tomyplace.”
“Soundslikeaplan.See
yousoon.”
“Drivesafe,”Gracesaid.
Therewasaslightcatchin
hervoice,asifshehadbeen
abouttosaysomethingelse
butshestoppedherself.
“Good-bye.”
“Seeyousoon.”
Heendedtheconnection
andpausedforamoment,
wonderingwhatitwasthat
Gracehadalmostsaid.Imiss
you,perhaps.Or,maybe,I’m
lookingforwardtoseeingyou
again.Thatwasprobablyit.
Thechancesthatshehad
beenabouttosayIloveyou
wereslimtonone.Itwasway
toosoon.AndGrace’strack
recordindicatedthatshewas
verycautiouswhenitcameto
relationships.Still,aman
coulddream.
Hehadn’tbeendoing
muchinthewayofdreaming
untilGracearrivedonthe
scene.Gracechanged
everything.
HefireduptheSUVand
reversedoutoftheparking
space.Hewasinastrange
mood,onehecouldnotquite
define.Whateveritwas,it
wasnotconnectedtoclosing
theBannerdeal.Theonly
thinginvolvedtherehadbeen
money.
Bythetimehedroveoutof
thegarageandintotheriver
ofdowntowntraffichewas
prettysurethatthelittlerush
ofenergyhefeltwas
anticipation.Soonhewould
bebackinCloudLake,where
Gracewaswaiting.Fornow
shewassafewithfriends.
Itwasfull-darkbythetime
theexitsignforCloudLake
cameupintheheadlights.
Anotherlittlerushhithim
whenhepulledoffthe
freeway.Notmuchlonger.
Cominghome.
Fifteenminuteslaterhe
cruisedslowlythroughthe
neatlittletownandturnedoff
ontoLakeCircleRoad.He
checkedtheEllandhouse
whenhedrovepastandwas
satisfiedwhenhecaughta
glimpseofthewindows
glowingwarmlythroughthe
trees.Dev’spolicevehicle
wasparkedinthedrive.
Gracewaswhereshewas
supposedtobe.Shewassafe.
WithanyluckDevlin
wouldcomethroughwitha
solidconnectionbetweenthe
crimesandBurkeMarrick.
Therehadtobeone.Nocon
artistwasperfect.
Theoretically,nowthat
Marrickhadthemoneyin
sightagainhewouldstop
tryingtomurderpeoplewho
stoodinhisway.
Theoretically.
Juliusturnedintohisown
driveway,parkedandgotout.
Hegrabbedhislaptopand
startedtowardthefrontsteps.
Thedoorofthe
neighboringhousebanged
open.Harleyappeared.The
porchlightshoneonhisbald
head.
“ThoughtIheardyou,”
Harleycalledalittletoo
loudly.“How’dtheBanner
dealgo?”
“Itwentthewaydeals
alwaysgo.Bannerishappy.
Myinvestorsarehappy.My
staffishappy.”
Harleysnorted.“Sowhy
aren’tyouhappy?”
“I’mthrilled,can’tyou
tell?”
“Youknowwhatyour
problemis?”
“GracetellsmeI’mbored.
What’syouropinion?”
“You’renotbuilding
anything.You’rejustmaking
money.Afterawhile,that’s
notenough.WhenIwasin
business,webuiltthingsall
overthewholedamnworld,
remember?Watertreatment
plants.Hospitals.Hotels.
Apartments.Andit’sallstill
standing.Peoplegotclean
waterandjobsandplacesto
livebecauseweputinthe
infrastructureyouneedfor
thosethingstohappen.”
“I’minabitofahurry
here,Harley.Yourpoint?”
“I’mthinkingmaybeGrace
isright.Allyoudothesedays
ismakemoneyforyourself
andyourinvestors.You’re
bored.”
Juliuswentupthesteps
andunlockedhisfrontdoor.
“Now,see,there’swhere
you’rewrong.I’mnotbored,
notanylonger.”
Harleylaughed.“That’s
becauseyou’reheadingoutto
spendthenightwithGrace.”
“Idon’twanthertobe
aloneuntilthecopspickup
thepsychowho’sbeen
stalkingher.”
“Right.You’rejusta
regularBoyScoutdoinga
gooddeed.”Harleychuckled.
“Faceit,you’reindeepthere.
Thescarypartisthatshe
understandsyoubetterthan
youdoyourself.Thatkindof
womancanbedangerous.”
Juliuspausedinthe
doorwayandlookedat
Harley.“Gotanyadvice?”
“Sure.SameadviceI
alwaysgaveyouwhenIsent
yououttosalvageajobthat
wasintrouble.Don’tscrew
up.”
Harleywentbackinside
hishouse.Hisfrontdoor
slammedshut.
Juliuswentthroughhis
owndoorandswitchedon
somelights.Hestoodquietly
foramoment,listeningtothe
silence.Theplacefeltempty,
justlikehiscondointhecity.
Butthatnolongermattered.
HewouldbewithGrace
soon.
Nevertheless,theyawning
emptinessseemedalmost
eeriethisevening.Hewalked
acrossthefrontroom,his
footfallsechoingonthe
woodenfloor.
Therehadtobea
connectiontoBurkeMarrick.
Whatthehellwastakingthe
Seattlepolicesolongtofind
it?
Hisimaginationwas
spinningintooverdrive.He
neededtochangeclothesand
gofindGraceandhisfriends.
Hehauledtheduffelbag
intothebedroomanddropped
itonthebed.Hewasinthe
processofunzippingitwhen
heheardthefaint,muffled
whooshofanexplosion.
Instinctandoldhabitstook
over.Withoutthinking,he
flattenedhimselfagainstthe
nearestwall,automatically
seekingcover.Hecrouched
andpulledthepistoloutof
theankleholsterbeforehe
evenhadachancetoconsider
thepossibilities.Hispulse
kickedupandthebattlefield
focusinfusedhissenses.
You’reprobably
overreacting.Justsomeone
foolingaroundwithfireworks
outonthelake.You’renot
goingtobeanygoodto
Graceifyoudon’tstayin
control.
Outsidethewindowthe
nightwassuddenlylitupwith
flames.Heeasedthecurtain
asideandsawthatHarley’s
boathousewasonfire.
Harleyburstoutofhis
kitchendoorandcharged
acrosstheporch.Hegrabbed
thegardenhoseanddragged
ittowardthedock.
“Arkwright,getouthere
andgivemeahand.Wegota
fire.”
Juliusthoughtaboutthe
fuel,theflaresandallthe
othercombustibleitemsthat
werestoredintheboathouse
andonboardthecruiser.
Heshovedthepistolback
intotheholsterandheaded
forthekitchendoor.Whenhe
wasoutsideonthebackporch
hetookouthisphonetocall
911.
“Harley,getawayfrom
thatdamnboathouse,”he
shouted.“Thewholething
couldexplodeatanyminute.”
Harleycontinuedtohaul
thehosetowardthedock.
“It’smyboatinsidethat
boathouse,damnit.”
“You’vegotinsurance.
Besides,webothknowyou
canaffordtobuytwoorthree
more.”
Juliuspunchedinthe
emergencynumber.
“Nine-one-one.Whatisthe
natureofyouremergency?”
“Fire,”Juliussaid.
“Twenty-elevenLakeCircle
Road.HarleyMontoya’s
place.Theboathouse.”
“I’vegotvehiclesonthe
way.”
Juliusendedthecalland
starteddownthesteps.
“Forgetit,Harley.There’s
nothingyoucando.Stay
clear.Firedepartment’son
theway.”
“Yougonnagivemea
handorjuststandthereand
tellmethefiredepartment’s
coming?”Harleyshouted.
“Stayawayfromthe
boathouse,youstubborn—”
Juliuscaughttheflickerof
movementoutofthecorner
ofhiseyejustashereached
thebottomstep.Aneighbor
comingtohelp,hethought.
Butthenearesthousewas
somedistanceaway.Noone
couldhaverunthatfast.
Theporchlightglinted
darklyonametalobjectin
thenewcomer’shand.
...AndJuliuswasthrown
backintoawarzone.
Hedroppedtotheground
justasthegunroared.Hefelt
coldtalonsslashopenhis
rightside.Thepain,heknew,
wouldcomelater.Atthat
momenthewasridingawave
ofadrenaline.
Anothershotslammedinto
theporchboardsjustabove
hishead.Hewasflatonhis
bellyonthefarsideofthe
steps.Itoccurredtohimthat
hehadmadeafinetarget
standingthereinthelight
whilehecalled911.Idiot.
Hepulledthegunbackout
ofhisankleholsterand
watchedthedarkfigure
advancecautiouslyacrossthe
yard.Whenthegunman
reachedtheedgeoftheporch
lighthepaused,searchingfor
histargetintheshadows.
“Whatthehellareyou
doing,Julius?”Harley
shouted.Hestartedacrossthe
gravellanethatseparatedthe
twohouses.“Areyou
shootingadamngun?I’ve
gotaproblemoverhere,in
caseyoudidn’tnotice...
Shit.”
“Harley,”Juliusshouted.
“Getdown.”
Harleyfinallysawthe
gunman.
“Sonofabitch,”he
bellowed.“Yousetthatfire,
didn’tyou?”
Theshooterwasalready
swingingaroundtoward
Harley,whowasclearly
silhouettedagainstthe
flames.
Juliustookabreath,letit
outpartwayandsqueezedthe
trigger.
Theforceoftheshottook
thegunmandown.He
collapsedintotheringof
porchlight.
Juliusgottohisknees,his
weaponinonehand.He
clampedhisotherhand
againsthisside.
“Thegun,”hesaid.
“I’vegotit.”Harley
scoopeduptheweaponthe
gunmanhaddroppedand
hurriedtowardJulius.“Shit,
son,where’dthatSOBhit
you?”
Juliusconsideredthe
questionclosely.Itwas
gettinghardtofocus,but
therewaswarmliquid
spillingoverhishandnow,he
wasprettysureofthat.
“Rightside.Ithink.Kind
ofdampthere.”
Sirenswailedinthe
distance.
“Damn,you’rebleedin’,all
right.”Harleyrippedoffhis
flannelshirtandbunchedit
intoatightbandage.He
presseditfirmlyagainst
Julius’sside.“Thefiretrucks
willbehereinaminute.
They’llhavesomemedical
supplies.”
“Okay.”Juliusdidnottake
hiseyesoffthefallenman.
“Keepaneyeonthat
bastard.”
“Don’tworry,Iwill.You
knowhim?He’snotfrom
aroundhere,that’sforsure.”
“BurkeMarrick,”Julius
said.“Grace...Tellher...”
“Shutupandconcentrate
onstayin’rightherewithme.
YoucantellGracewhatever
itisyouwanttotellher,
yourself.Gotahunchshe’ll
bealongrightquick.”
Forty-Three
H
edriftedinandout
ofamedication
haze,vaguely
awarethatGracewas
somewherenearby.Hetried
tofocusbecausehehad
thingstosaytoherbuthe
keptslippingbackintoa
murkydreamworld.
Machineshummedand
beepedendlesslyinthe
shadows.Figuresappeared
anddisappeared,startlinghim
becausetheymovedso
quietly.Hefinallyrealized
whatwashappeningand
glaredatthenursewhowas
gettingreadytoinjectanother
doseofthedrugintotheIV
line.
“Nomore,”heordered.
Thewordswerethickand
ragged.
Thenurse,atall,heavyset
manwithredhair,studied
himclosely.“Yousure?”
“I’msure.”
Gracematerializedatthe
sideofthebed.“Don’tbean
idiot,Julius.Takethepain
meds.”
“Nomore,”Juliussaid.
“Notnow.Needtothink.”
“Yourcall,”thenursesaid.
“Letmeknowifyouchange
yourmind.”
Helefttheroom.Grace
leanedovertherailingand
touchedJulius’shandvery
gingerly,asifshewasafraid
hemightbreak.Hegripped
herfingersandheldontight.
“Marrick?”hecroaked.
“Hesurvivedbutlasttime
Icheckedhewasn’tawake.
Devlinhasanofficer
stationedoutsidehisdoor.
Hissurgerywasalotmore
extensivethanyours.The
doctorsaidthatinyourcase
novitalorganswerehit.They
justhadtostitchyouup.”
“Feelsliketheydiditwith
red-hotneedles.”
“Youheardthenurse,”
Gracesaid.“Youcanhave
morepainmedicationifyou
wantit.”
“No,thanks.Themeds
don’tmakethepaingoaway,
theyjusttakeyoutoa
differentplace.Buteveryone
aroundyouthinksyou’reno
longerinpainsotheyfeel
better.”
Shesmiled.“That’svery
philosophical.”
Hepushedhimselfup
againstthepillowsand
groanedwhenthepain
punishedhim.
“Julius?”Gracelooked
worried.
Hetookacautiousbreath.
“I’mokay.”
Hesurveyedtheroomand
sawalargeleatherchair.
Therewasahospitalblanket
drapedovertheback.The
windowglowedwithwatery
morninglight.
“Hell,it’stomorrow,isn’t
it?”hesaid.
Gracesmiled.“It’stoday.
Youwereshotlastnight.”
“Youspentthenight
here?”
“OfcourseIdid.You
scaredthedaylightsoutof
me.WhenDevlingotthatcall
sayingthattwomaleshad
beenshotatthesceneofa
fireatHarley’shouseandthat
youwereoneofthem—”She
brokeoffandtookabreath.
“Yes,indeed,Ispentthe
night.”
“Youdidn’thavetodo
that,”hesaid,butheknewit
soundedweak.Hewas
thrilledthatshehadstayed
withhim.“Butthanks.”
“Youtoldmeyoudon’t
likeguns,”shesaid.
“Idon’t.NeversaidI
didn’townone.Usedtocarry
itwhenIworkedforHarley.
Dugitoutafterwegot
muggedinthegarage.”
“Thatturnedouttobevery
farsightedofyou.”Shegave
himamistysmile.“Howare
youfeeling?”
“Bestnottoask.Does
Devlinhaveanymore
information?”
“Yes.He’llfillyouinon
thedetailsbutIcangiveyou
theshortversion.Devlinran
Burke’sprintsandgotahit.
Theybelongtoamannamed
RandalTrager.”
“Trager’ssonbyhisfirst
wife.”
“Right.Randal’sprints
wereinthesystembecausehe
didtimeseveralyearsago,
remember?Ipulledupthe
detailswhenweresearched
Trager’sfamily.”
“Iremember.Thatfits.”
“Itgetsbetter.TheSeattle
policesearchedMillicent’s
apartmentandfoundBurke’s
printsinMillicent’sbedroom.
Hemusthavebeentheman
shetookhomethatnight.
Randal,orBurkeorwhatever
hisnameis,wasnailedforhis
crimesonlyoncelongagobut
thecopsthinkthathe’s
probablybeenasuccessful,
mid-levelconartistallofhis
life.NylaWitherspoon’s
inheritancewouldhavebeen
abigscoreforhim.”
“Butonlyifshegother
handsonhermoney.”
“Devlinhasbeenincontact
withtheSeattlepolice.It
won’tbelongbeforeNyla
discoversthatMr.Perfectisa
scamartist.”Graceshookher
head.“It’sjustsosad.”
“Nowyou’refeelingsorry
forNylaWitherspoon?Hell,
woman.That’srightupthere
withfeelingsorryforthat
deadratthatwasinyour
refrigerator.”Juliusstopped.
“Whichremindsme—”
“Themugging,yes,I
know.DevlinsaystheSeattle
policepickeduptheother
manwhoattackedus.
Evidentlytheyareviolent
careercriminalswiththe
usualrapsheet.Theirmain
businessisdrugsbuttheyare
availableforhireas
enforcers.Theytoldthecops
thatamanpaidthemto
quote,sendyouamessage,
unquote.”
Juliusmulledthatover.
“Didtheyruntheprintson
thevodkabottlewesawin
Millicent’sapartment?”
“Yes.Noprintsonthe
bottlebut,asItoldyou,they
didfindBurke’sprintsinher
bedroom.”
“Hewipedthebottleclean
ofhisownprintsbutforgot
abouttheprintsinthe
bedroom?”
“That’showitlooks,”
Gracesaid.“Thecopsthink
Marrickwasverysurethat
everyonewouldattribute
Millicent’sdeathtoan
accidentaloverdose.”
“Butiftheydidconsider
thepossibilityofmurder,the
vodkabottlewouldpoint
towardyou,”Juliussaid.
“That’sthetheory.
Millicentisawake,bythe
way,butshe’sstill
disoriented.Shetoldthe
policethatshedoesn’t
rememberanythingabout
whathappenedthenightshe
supposedlytookanoverdose.
Everyonetellsmethatisnot
unusualinsuchsituations.
Butsheswearsthatshenever
triedtokillherselfandthat
shedoesn’tdoheavydrugs.
Beyondthat,she’snot
talking.”
“Smartwoman.She
doesn’twanttoincriminate
herself.”
“Thecopstracedtheemail
abouteatingchocolateand
theonlineorderforthecandy
delivery.Asyouguessed,
Millicenthadscheduledboth
togooutif,andonlyif,she
didnotpersonallycancelthe
arrangementseverymorning
beforeeighto’clock.”
“Theemailandthecandy
orderwentoutrightontime
thedaywefoundherina
drugcoma.”
“Yes,”Gracesaid.
Forsomereasonthe
thoughtamusedhim.
“Wonderifsheremembers
thatshesentthatemailand
thosechocolatestoyouand
thatbynowyouhavethe
numberofthatoffshore
account.”
“Idon’tknow.According
toDevlin,she’sgotpartial
amnesia.”
“Ordoingaverygoodjob
ofactingtheroleofapatient
whohaslosthermemory.”
Gracewinced.“Justgoes
toshow,youneverreally
knowsomeone.Iliked
Millicent.”
“Don’tfeelbad.Inherown
way,shemusthavelikedyou,
too.That’swhysheleftall
themoneytoyou.”
“Well,thereisthat,I
suppose,”Gracesaid.She
seemedtobrightenalittleat
thethought.“ButIwonder
whyMillicentgotinvolved
withBurke.Ialwayshadthe
impressionthatshewassure
hewasaconman.”
“That’sprobablyexactly
whyshedidgetinvolvedwith
him,”Juliussaid.Hetriedto
connectdotsthroughthe
remainingdrugfog.“She
knewwhoandwhatshewas
dealingwith—orthoughtshe
did.Looksliketheywere
partnersinthescam.They
murderedWitherspoonand
triedtomakeyoulook
guilty.”
“Thevodkabottleatthe
scene?”
“Theyknewthecops
wouldbelookingfor
someonecloseto
Witherspoon.Iftheirown
alibisdidn’tholdupthey
wantedtopointthefingerat
you.BurkeMarrickknewthe
brandofvodkathatwasin
thebasementthatday
becauseheresearchedhis
father’sdeath.”
“WhenIthinkofhow
manytimesIwentoutfor
after-workdrinkswith
Millicent—”
Juliusignoredthat,
followingthebrightredline
thatconnectedthedots.
“Thingsmusthavegone
wrongbetweenMillicentand
Burke.Maybehethoughtshe
wasgoingtobetrayhimand
keepallthemoneyfor
herself.Whateverthecase,he
triedtokillherandfailed.He
tookhercomputer,assuming
thathecouldfindtheoffshore
account.Buthedidn’t.”
“Millicentwasvery,very
bigonencryption,”Grace
said.“Shewasobsessive
aboutit.Marrickmaybe
goodbutI’llbetyou
Millicentwasbetterwhenit
cametohidingstuffonline.”
“Marrickmusthavebeen
readytopulltheplugonthe
wholeoperation.But
suddenlyNylainformshim
thatshehasrecoveredher
inheritanceandherealizes
he’sgotasecondchance.”
“Butheknewyou
wouldn’tquitturningover
rocks,”Gracesaid.“Hewas
afraidthatsoonerorlateryou
wouldaskonequestiontoo
manyandexposehimforthe
fakethathewas.”
Devlinappearedinthe
doorway.“We’llgetmore
answersoutofMarrickwhen
hewakesup.Howareyou
doing,Mr.VentureCapitalist
withagun?”
“Let’sjustsayI’mnot
focusingonalotofpositive
thoughtsatthemoment,”
Juliussaid.“ButIdohave
somenegativethingsI’dlike
togooverwithyou.”
Gracesmiled.“Youtwo
spendsomequalitytime
together.I’mgoinghometo
takeashowerandget
somethingtoeat.Ihaven’t
hadanysleepandthehospital
cafeteriafoodisdownright
hazardoustothehealth.Wallto-wallfriedthings.”
“Okay,”Juliussaid.He
knewhesoundedgrudging
aboutit.Hecouldn’thelpit.
Hedidn’twanthertoleave.
Hestillhadthingstosayto
her.Notthathecouldsay
theminfrontofDevlin.
Sheleanedoverthebed
andkissedhimonthe
forehead.Shesteppedaway
beforehecouldfigureout
howtohangontoher.
“Areyoucomingback?”
heaskedbeforehecouldstop
himself.Hewasimmediately
strickenwithguilt.The
womanhadspentthenight
keepingwatchathisbedside.
Shedeservedashoweranda
nap,attheveryleast.It
wasn’tlikehehadarightto
haveherdanceattendanceon
him.Itwasn’tlikehehadany
rightsatallwhereshewas
concerned.Still,hedidnot
wanthertoleave.
Gracepausedinthe
doorway.“Don’tworry,I’m
goingtomakeupabatchof
theWitherspoonWay
HarmonyVegetableSoupfor
yourlunch.”
“Yikes,”hesaid.But
somethinginsidehimrelaxed.
“Willtherebeanaffirmation
included?”
“Absolutely.I’llbringyou
somefreshclothes,too.
They’resayingyoucan
probablygohomelater
today.”
“Homesoundsgood,”he
said.
Gracevanishedoutintothe
hall.
Devlinwaiteduntilshe
wasgone.Thenhesmileda
beatificsmile.
“Iknewthetwoofyou
wereperfectforeachother,”
hesaid.“AmIbornfor
matchmakingorwhat?”
“Bullshit.”Juliuslevered
himselfupalittlehigheron
thestackofpillows.He
suckedinadeepbreathand
waitedforthepaintoretreat.
“Yoususpectedthatshe
mighthavekilledherboss.”
“Ineveractuallybelieved
that,”Devlinsaid.“Ijust
wantedtobesure.Now,do
youwanttohearthedetails
ofmybigcaseornot?”
“Iwantthedetails,”Julius
said.“Allofthem.”
Forty-Four
A
fteranhourof
tossingand
turning,Grace
gaveuptryingtonap.The
sleeplessnightinJulius’s
hospitalroomhadlefther
feelingwired.Sheneverhad
beenabletosleepduringthe
day,anyway.
Shetookashowerinstead.
Itdidwonders.
Shebreakfastedonahigh
proteinmealofscrambled
eggsandwhole-graintoast
andthenshesetaboutthe
taskofmakingupabatchof
HarmonyVegetableSoup.
Shewasslicingthecarrots
whensheheardacarinthe
driveway.
Sheputdowntheknife,
grabbedapapertoweltodry
herhandsandwentintothe
frontroom.Shepulledthe
curtainasideandwatched
Nylagetoutfrombehindthe
wheelofagraysedan.
Shestifledagroan.The
lastthingshewantedwasan
extendedconversationwith
Nylabutthewomanhadbeen
traumatizedtwiceinrecent
days.Thelossofherfather
followedbythediscovery
thatherfiancéwasprobably
thekillerwouldhavebeen
toomuchforanyone.
IfNylawantedtotalk,it
wouldbeunkindtorefuseto
listen,Gracethought.
Sheopenedthedoorand
steppedoutontotheporch.
“Nyla,I’msosorry,”she
said.
Nylacameupthesteps,her
sharpfacetightandbleak.
Sheclutchedthestrapofher
purseasthoughitwerea
lifeline.
“I’mtheonewhoneedsto
apologize,”shesaid.“That’s
whyI’mhere.Iaccusedyou
ofmurderandembezzlement.
I’msorry,Grace.Ican’t
reallyexplainwhyIwasso
sureyouweretheonewho
killedDadandstolethe
money.Ithinkitmusthave
hadsomethingtodowiththe
factthatyouweretheperson
whohaddonesomuchto
maketheWitherspoonWay
successful.Dadwasalways
singingyourpraises.IguessI
wasjustflat-outjealous.But
that’snoexcuse.”
“It’sokay,Iunderstand.
Pleasecomein.Ijustmadea
potofcoffee.Wouldyoulike
some?”
Nylablinked,evidently
surprisedbytheoffer.Some
ofthetensionwentoutofher
face,exposingtheattractive,
elfinfeaturesthathadbeen
concealedallalong.Regret
andadeepwearinesswere
alsorevealed.
“Coffeewouldbevery
nice,”shesaid.“Thanks.”
Agnes’sfrontdoorbanged
open.
“Hello,”Agnessangout.
Shewavedherpruning
shears.“Howarethingsover
there?”
“Justfine,”Gracesaid.
“ThisisNylaWitherspoon,
Sprague’sdaughter.You
remembershevisitedthe
otherday.”
“Yes,ofcourse,”Agnes
said.ShebeamedatNyla.
“Yourfatherwasagoodman,
dear.Hewasallabout
positiveenergy.Theworld
needsmoreofthat
commodity,doesn’tit?”
Nylaflushed.“Yes,it
does.”
Shewentupthestepsand
movedcautiouslyintothe
livingroom.Oncethereshe
stopped,clearlyuncertain
whattodonext.
“Thisway.”Graceshutthe
doorandledthewayintothe
kitchen.Shegesturedtoward
achair.“Haveaseat.”
Shehadlongago
concludedthatsomething
aboutkitchensmadeiteasier
forpeopletorelax.
Nylasankslowly,
tentatively,intothenearest
chair.“IsJuliusArkwright
goingtobeokay?”
“Juliuswillbefine.Thanks
forasking.”Gracesetamug
ofcoffeeinfrontofNyla.“I
justcamefromthehospital.
Thedoctorsexpecthimto
makeafullrecovery.”
Therewasashortpause.
“WhataboutBurke?Iwas
toldhisconditionwaslisted
asserious.”
“AllIknowisthatheis
outofsurgery.Igotthe
impressionthathe’sexpected
tosurvive.”
Nylashookherhead.“I
couldn’tbelieveitwhenIgot
thecallfromthepolicethis
morning.Or,maybeIshould
sayIdidn’twanttobelieveit.
Butsomewheredeepdown
insideIknewthatBurkewas
justtoogoodtobetrue.The
perfectman.Dadwasright
abouthimallalong.”
“Ifitmakesyoufeelany
better,Iwasjustasshocked
tofindoutthatMillicent
Chartwellwasembezzling
fromyourfather,eventhough
inhindsight,shewasthemost
logicalsuspect.Frankly,after
itwasdiscoveredthatthe
moneywasmissing,Ithought
Millicentwasjusttoo
obvious.Imean,really,the
companybookkeeper
skimmingofftheprofits?
Howordinaryisthat?”
“That’sprobablywhyshe
almostgotawaywithit.”
“Ithinkyou’reright,”
Gracesaid.Sheglancedatthe
colorfulheapofvegetables
onthekitchencounter.“Iwas
abouttomakesomesoup.Do
youmindifIcontinue?”
“No,ofcoursenot.”Nyla
cradledthemuginbothhands
andlookedoutthewindowat
thelake.“Isupposemyfather
musthavediscoveredwhat
wasgoingonandconfronted
herormaybeBurke.”
Gracepickeduptheknife
andbeganslicingthered
peppers.“Probably.”
“Iwonderwhichone
actuallykilledhim?”
“Nooneknowsforsure,
notyet.Butgiventhefact
thatBurkeusedaguntotry
tokillJuliuslastnight,he’s
probablytheonewho
murderedyourfather.”
“Thepoliceimpliedthat
Burkewassleepingwith
Millicent.”Nyla’sjaw
clenched.“HowcouldIhave
beensoblind?”
“Asuccessfulsociopath
hastobebrilliantwhenit
comestodeceivingothers,”
Gracesaidgently.Shepushed
thepeppersaside,rinsedher
handsandsnaggedapaper
towelofftheroll.“Theability
tocharmyouandlookyou
rightintheeyewhiletheylie
toyouandbreakyourheartis
theirnaturalcamouflage.”
“AreyouandKristygoing
tobeokay?”Nylaasked.“I
mean,willyoubeabletofind
newjobs?”
“We’llbothbefine.”
Gracetossedthecarrotsand
peppersintothesimmering
broth.“Kristywillprobably
takeapositionwithRayner
Seminars.LarsonRayner
coulduseherexpertise.She’s
verygoodwithscheduling
andshe’sgotexcellent
relationshipswiththeclients.
Iexpectshecouldmovemost
ofthemtoRaynerSeminars.”
“Idon’tknowhowmany
timesKristysaidthatSprague
waslikeafathertoher.”Nyla
sighed.“Ican’tbegintotell
youhowmuchIhated
hearingthat.SometimesIgot
theimpressionshesaidit
becausesheknewitupset
me.”
Gracewenttoworkonthe
kale,strippingtheleaves
fromthetoughstems.“Ithink
shewastryingtoconvince
youthatshehadyourfather’s
bestinterestsatheart.She
didn’trealizehowherwords
wouldbeinterpreted.”
“Itwasn’tjustthewayshe
talkedaboutDad.Ithought
shemightbetryingtogether
hooksintoBurke.”
Gracepausedinmid-rip
andconsideredthatcomment.
Thensheshookherhead.
“Thatdoessurpriseme.I
neversawanythinggoingon
betweenthetwoofthem.She
wasassuspiciousofBurkeas
MillicentandIwere.”
“Butthen,youdidn’tknow
thatMillicentandBurkewere
partnersinthescam,did
you?”
“No,”Graceadmitted.
“Whatmadeyouthinkthat
KristywasafterBurke?”
“Iwassoworriedabout
losinghim.LikeIsaid,deep
down,Iknewthathewastoo
damnedperfect.SoIhireda
privateinvestigatortowatch
himforawhile.Iwastold
thatBurkemetanother
womanonatleastone
occasionquiterecentlyata
coffeeshoponQueenAnne.
ThePItookaphotoofthe
two.”
“Whowasthewoman?”
“There’snowaytobe
certain.Intheshotshe’s
wearingdarkglassesanda
tracksuitwiththehoodpulled
upoverherhead.Butthe
investigatorfollowedher
backtotheapartment
complexwhereKristylives.I
wassureitwasher.”
Gracepickeduptheknife
andbeganchoppingthekale.
“Well,Kristydidmention
runningintoBurkeatacoffee
shopononeoccasion.It
didn’tseemtobeanybig
deal.Itwasafterthatmeeting
thatshesaidshethoughtthere
wassomethingalittleoff
abouthim.Shesaidshegot
theimpressionhewastrying
topumpherforinformation
onyourfather’sbusiness
affairs.”
“Thatwasprobablyexactly
whathappened,butatthe
timeIwasconvincedthatshe
andBurkeweresneaking
aroundbehindmyback.I
confrontedhimaboutit.He
gavemethestoryaboutthe
accidentalmeetingatthe
coffeeshop,too.Atthetime,
Ibelievedhim.”
“Kristywasinclinedtobe
chatty.Burkemayhave
hopedtotakeadvantageof
thatfact.”
“Yes,Isupposeso.”
Gracetossedthekaleinto
thebrothandturnedtolook
atNyla.“Ineedtoaskyou
againifyou’retheonewho
sentmethoseweird
affirmationemailsfromyour
father’saccount.Andthis
timeI’dlikethetruth.”
“Ineversentyouany
emailsfromDad’saccount,I
swearit.Idon’tevenknow
thepassword.”Nylafrowned
overtherimofthecoffee
mug.“WhywouldIdosucha
thing?”
“Ihavenoidea,but
someonesentmeemailswith
Witherspoonaffirmationsfor
severalnightsinarowafter
yourfatherwasmurdered.I
thinktheywereintendedto
rattleme.”
Nyla’sbrowsscrunched
together.“Itmusthavebeen
Burkewhosenttheemails.”
Burkesenttheemailsfor
thesamereasonheleftthe
vodkabottlesatthescenesof
thecrimes,Gracethought.He
wasafterthemoneybuthe
couldnotresiststalkingher.
Hewouldhaveknownabout
theforty-eight-hourdeadline
thatNylahadsetdown.He
hadwantedtoexactsome
revengeforhisfather’sdeath
atherhands.
“Yes,”shesaid.“That
makessense.”
Nylaputdownhermug.“I
shouldletyougetonwith
yourday.Youprobablywant
toreturntothehospitaltosee
Arkwright.Ijustwantedto
thankyouforlettingme
knowaboutthemoney.”
“It’syours,”Gracesaid.
“Yourfatherwantedyouto
haveit.”
“It’sstrange.”
“Whatis?”
“IthoughtthatifIgotmy
inheritancefromDad,I
wouldfeelbetter.NowallI
canthinkaboutisthathe’s
goneandthere’snowayto
makeupforthedisasterof
ourrelationship.Iblamed
himformymother’ssuicide,
yousee.Butitwasn’this
fault.Itwasn’tanyone’sfault.
IwishIhadunderstoodthat
sooner.”
ItdawnedonGracethat
Nylastilldidnotknowabout
herfather’sotherlifeasacon
man.Thetruthwould
probablycomeoutatsome
pointbuttherewasnoneedto
betheonetotellher.
“Icanthinkofacoupleof
affirmationsthatmightgive
yousomecomfort,”Grace
said.
Nylaturnedwary.“What
arethey?”
“Well,thefirstoneisYou
can’tgobacktochange
thingsbutyoucanmove
forwardonadifferentpath.
Yourfatherlovedyouand
regrettedthewaythingswere
betweenthetwoofyou.
Leavingyouthatmoneywas
hisattempttomakeamends.
Thebestwaytohonorhis
memoryistoacceptyour
inheritanceandtrynotto
repeatthemistakesofthepast
asyoumoveintothefuture.”
Nyla’sexpressionwas
ruefullyamused.“That’sa
veryWitherspoonWaything
tosay.What’stheother
affirmationthatapplies?”
Gracesmiled.“Don’tlook
agifthorseinthemouth.”
Forty-Five
G
raceaddedtherest
ofthevegetables
tothepotandleft
thesouptosimmergently.
Shesatdownatthekitchen
tableandopenedherlaptop.
Onebyoneshewentthrough
thestalker’semails.They
musthavebeensentby
Burke.Buthehadbeenafter
themoneyandhewas
evidentlyaprofessionalcon
man.Thetauntingemails
didn’tseemlikesomethinga
prowouldrisksending.
Butinthiscase,thepro
hadalsowantedrevenge.He
hadleftavodkabottleatthe
scenesofthecrimestopoint
thepolicetowardher.Sure,
hehadwantedthemoneybut
healsowantedvengeance.
Onethingwastrueof
BurkeMarrick—hewasa
professionalliar.Thatmeant
everythinghehadtoldNyla
wasfalse.
Julius’swordsechoed
soundlesslyinthekitchen.
RuleNumberOne:Trust
noone.
RuleNumberTwo:
Everyonehasahidden
agenda.
Gracegaveupandclosed
downthelaptop.Therewas
nopointwastingtimeonthe
emails.Thatwasasideissue.
Theimportantthingwasthat
BurkeandMillicentwere
bothunderguardinthe
hospital.
Thesoupwasstartingto
smellverygood.Theginger,
soyandkombu-basedbroth
spicedtheatmosphereofthe
kitchen.Gracegottoherfeet
andwentbacktothestove.
Pickingupthebigwooden
spoon,shestirredgently.
KristyhadtoldNylathat
Spraguewaslikeafatherto
her.
ButKristyhadthepicture
oftheperfectfamilyonher
officedesk.Shedidnotneed
anotherfatherfigureinher
life.Herfatherwasperfect.
Justaskher.
AndBurkehadappearedto
betheperfectfiancé.Justask
Nyla.Exceptthathewasa
conmanandprobablya
killer.
JustaskJuliusandDevlin.
Burkehadinventedone
lifestory,whynottwo?He
wasn’tthekindofguytodo
favors—except,perhaps,for
someonewhowasina
positiontodohimafavor.Or
someoneinthefamily.Hey,
evensociopathshadfamilies,
right?
Trustnoone.
Thiswasnotgood,Grace
thought.Shewasstartingto
thinklikeJulius—thesame
Juliuswhowascurrentlyin
thehospitalrecoveringfroma
gunshotwoundbecauseshe
hadinvolvedhiminher
positive-thinkingworld.
KristyandBurkehadmet
atleastonceforcoffee.But
Burkehadn’tneededasecond
sourceintheWitherspoon
offices,notifhehadbeen
workingwithMillicentfrom
thestart.Whyrisktryingto
getinfofromKristy?Hemust
haveknownthatNylawould
beupsetifshefoundout—
whichwasapparentlywhat
hadhappened.
ButBurkehadn’tappeared
onthesceneuntilaboutthree
monthsago.Millicenthad
startedskimming
Witherspoonmoneylong
beforethat.Burkehad,in
fact,arrivedshortlyafter
Kristyhadbeeninstalledas
thereceptionist.
Spraguewaslikeafather
tome.
Thatwasalie.Spraguehad
beenagoodemployerbuthe
hadnottriedtobeafather
figuretoanyofhis
employees.Hehadenough
troublewithhisrealdaughter.
Gracetookthespoonout
ofthepotandsetitinthe
smalldishonthecounter.She
wenttothetableandpicked
upherphone,intendingto
callJulius.Thesoundof
heavyfootstepsontheback
porchstoppedher.
...Andshewassixteen
yearsoldagain,nearlyfrozen
withpanic,listeningtothe
echoingthud-thud-thudofthe
killer’sboots.Tragerwas
returningtothesceneofthe
crime.Hehadcomebackto
killthewitness.
Breathe.
Shelookedatthekitchen
door,double-checkingto
makecertainitwasstill
locked.Theboltwasinplace.
Thiswasridiculous.Itwas
notyetnight.Don’teven
thinkoflookingunderthe
beds.Don’tgothere.You
don’twanttomakethe
compulsionanyworseby
firingupadaytimeritual.
Tragerwasdead.Shehad
killedhim.Hisson,whomay
havewantedrevenge,wasin
thehospital.Therewasno
wayeitherofthemcouldbe
onthebackporchtoday.
ThatleftKristybutitwas
notKristy’sfootstepsshe
heardonthebackporch.
Moresolidfootfalls
shatteredthestillness.
Sheputherbacktothe
wallnexttothewindowand
peeredoutthroughthecrack
inthecurtain.
Agnes,dressedinher
gardeningclogs,sunhat,jeans
andaloose-fittingflannel
shirt,raisedherglovedhand
toknock.
Thewaveofreliefwasso
overwhelmingGracestarted
toshiver.Shewasn’tinthe
middleofascenefroma
horrormovie,afterall.She
loweredthephoneand
openedthedoor.
“Agnes,”shesaid.“Are
youokay?Issomething
wrong?”
“I’msosorry,dear,”Agnes
said.Therewasamixof
anger,fearandguiltinher
eyes.
“Whatonearth?”Grace
said.
Morefootstepssounded—
lightandquickthistime.
Kristyappearedfromthe
farsideoftheporchwhere
shehadbeenconcealed
behindtheoldrefrigerator.
Shehadabottleofvodkain
onehand.Therewasagunin
herotherhand.
“Dropthephone,”Kristy
said.“DoitnoworIkillthe
oldladyfirstandyounext.”
Gracedroppedthephone.
Forty-Six
I
t’sallcomingtogether,”
Devlinsaid.“The
Seattleinvestigatorsare
convincedthatMarrickwas
workingthescamwith
MillicentChartwell.The
partnershipwentbad.”
“No,it’snotthatsimple.”
Juliuspacedthesmall
hospitalroom.The
medicationandthepainkillers
hadfinallywornoff.Thepain
wasbackbuthecouldthink
clearlyagain.“We’re
overlookingsomething.”
“We’llfillinthemissing
blankswhenMarrickwakes
upandstartsanswering
questions.”
Juliusstoppedatthe
windowandlookedoutatthe
viewofthestreet.“Marrickis
aprofessional.Heshould
havecuthislossesandruna
fewdaysago.”
“Everyonehasaweak
point,”Devlinsaid.“Seems
clearthatinMarrick’scase,it
wastheneedforrevenge.”
“No,”Juliussaid.“The
timingisoff.Millicentwas
embezzlingfromthe
Witherspoonaccountsovera
yearbeforeBurkeMarrick
showedup.”
“Twoconspassinginthe
night,recognizeeachother
andhookupforascore,”
Devlinsaid.
“No,thiswasabout
revengefromthestart,”Julius
said.“Anditonlystarteda
fewmonthsago.”Hewentto
thenightstandandpickedup
thephone.“IwantGrace
whereIcanseeher.”
Hekeyedinhercode.
Andgottossedintovoice
mail.
“She’snotanswering,”he
said.
“Maybeshe’sinthe
showerortakinganap.She
spentthenighthereatyour
bedside.Sheneedssome
rest.”
“Idon’tlikeit.”Julius
openedthetinyclosetand
discoveredthatitwasempty.
“Wherethehellaremy
clothes?”
Devlinraisedhisbrows.
“Lockedupinevidencebags.
Graceisbringingyousome
cleanclotheswhenshe
returnswiththesoup,
remember?”
“Screwtheclothes.
Where’smygun?”
“That’sinevidence,too.”
Juliusswungaround.Pain
lancedthroughhisside.He
ignoreditandlookeddownat
Devlin’sankle.“You’vegota
spare.Youalwayscarryan
extra.”
“Yourpoint?”
“Let’sgo.”Juliusheaded
towardthedoor,thetailsof
thehospitalgownflappingin
thebreeze.
Devlinfollowed.“Doyou
thinkit’spossibleyou’re
overreacting?”
“No,”Juliussaid.“Call
Harley.He’sclosertothe
Ellandplace.”
Forty-Seven
A
ctasifyouarein
control,especially
whenyouknow
it’snottrue.Yourmindwill
clearandyouwillbeableto
seeopportunitiesthatare
veiledbychaos.
“Agnesneedstositdown,”
Gracesaid.“Can’tyousee
thatshe’sabouttocollapse?
Shehasserioushealthissues,
don’tyou,Agnes?”
ShefocusedonAgnes’s
eyes,willinghertoplay
along.
Agnesgaspedandclutched
atherchest.Shestartedto
pant.
“Myheart,”shewheezed.
“It’sbeatingsofast.Ithink
I’mgoingtofaint.”
Rageflashedacross
Kristy’sface.Foraninstant
sheappearedconfused.She
hadnotmadeallowancesfor
smalladjustmentsinherplan
—alwaysassumingtherewas
aplan.
UsingAgnesasahostage
hadbeenanimpulsive
decisiononKristy’spart,
Gracedecided,onethathad
probablybeenmadeatthe
lastminutewhenitbecame
clearthatthegrandschemeto
exactrevengehadfallen
apart.
Becausethatwaswhatthis
wasallabout,Gracethought.
ThevodkabottlethatKristy
hadsetonthekitchentable
madeitclear.Thiswasabout
vengeance.
“Sitdown.”Kristyjerked
thenoseoftheguntoward
oneofthechairsandglaredat
Agnesasifshewasnothing
morethananuisancenow
thatshehadservedher
purpose.
“Move,youstupidold
woman,”Kristyhissedwhen
Agnesdidnotmovefast
enough.
Agnesstaggeredrather
dramaticallytowardthe
nearestchair.Graceremained
whereshewasinfrontofthe
stove.Shewatchedthegunin
Kristy’shand.Itwas
tremblingeversoslightly.
Thatwasnotagoodsign.
Kristywasinthegripofan
obsession.Therewasnothing
elsethatcouldhavecauseda
smartwomantorisktwo
moremurderswhentherewas
nothingtobegainedexcept
revenge.Burkewasinthe
hospitalandunderguard.He
wouldstarttalkingsoon.
Millicentwasrecoveringand
intimewouldprovide
answerstothequestionsthe
policewereasking.Itwasall
over.
Kristyshouldhavebeenon
therunandhidingundera
newidentity.Instead,here
shewas,confrontingher
target.Vengeancewasa
harshtaskmaster.
“I’llgiveyoucreditfor
yourskillathidinginplain
sight,”Gracesaid.“Youand
Burkemusthavespentalong
timeworkingonyour
businessplan,sotospeak.It
wentperfectly,atleastfora
while.”
“BurkeandIdidn’tlearn
thetruthaboutourreal
father’sdeathuntilayear
ago,”Kristysaid.Hereyes
burnedwiththefeverofher
rage.“MomleftDadwhile
wewerestillbabies.Wehad
nomemoryofhim.She
changedournamesandour
lifehistoriesbecauseshewas
terrifiedofDad.Toldushe
diedinacarcrash.Shenever
gaveusthetruth.”
“Shewasprobablytrying
toprotectyou,”Gracesaid
gently.
Kristygiggled.“Sure.She
didn’twantustoknowabout
thebadgenesonthatsideof
thefamily.”
“Ifyourmotherwasso
frightenedofTrager,she
musthavekeptaneyeonhim
fromafar,”Gracesaid.“She
wouldhavebeenawareofhis
death.”
“Wrong.”Kristysmirked.
“Sheneverknewwhat
happenedtohimbecauseshe
waskilledinacaraccident,
herself,shortlybeforeyou
murderedDad.Talkabout
karma,huh?Witherspoon
wouldhavelovedthat.Mom
liestousaboutDad’sdeath
andthenshediesintheexact
samewayhesupposedly
died.Buthisdeathwasn’tan
accident,wasit?You
murderedhim.”
TheguninKristy’shand
trembledmoreviolently.
Graceheldherbreath.Agnes
satvery,verystill.
Kristyusedbothhandsto
tightenherholdonthegun.
Sheappearedtoregaina
measureofhercontrol.
“Motherdiedwithher
secrets,”shesaid.“Burkeand
Iwentintofostercare.”
“Wasitbad?”Graceasked,
tryingtomakethe
conversationsoundnormal—
reasonable.
Kristygrinned.“Let’sjust
sayitwasveryeducational.
Oneofourfosterparents
taughtBurkehowtosell
drugs,andIlearnedhowto
makemoneyin...other
ways.”
“Someonepimpedyou
out?”
“Notforlong.”Kristy
shrugged.“BurkeandIgave
itafewmonthsandthen
decidedwecouldmanage
muchbetteronourown.
Burkehasarealgiftforthe
techstuff,andIwasthe
perfectsaleswoman.Wedid
prettywell,consideringwe
wereacoupleofamateursat
thetime.”
“AndthenBurkegot
bustedforrunningapyramid
scheme.”
Kristyraisedherbrows.
“Youknowaboutthat,do
you?”
“Thecopsknow
everythingnow.”
“Doesn’tmatter,”Kristy
said.“Thiswillallbeover
soonandIwilldisappear.
Yes,Burkedidtime.He
learnedalotinside.First
thingwedidwhenhegotout
wasmakeupsomenew
identities.We’vehadseveral
overtheyears.BurkeandI
dieandgetrebornona
regularbasis.Talkabout
positivethinking.”
“Burkeburiedyourpastby
changingtherecordstomake
itappearthatyoudiedasa
littlegirlinthecaraccident
thattookyourmother’slife.
Hefakedhisowndeathafter
hegotoutofprison.”
“I’mimpressed,”Kristy
said.“Youreallyhavedone
yourresearch.”
“Whatmadeyoucome
lookingforme?”Grace
asked.
“Burkediscoveredthe
truthwhenhewaspreparing
thesetofidentitiesthatwe’re
usingnow.Hegotthebright
ideaofresearchingMom’s
familytree.There’ssomuch
ancestryinformation
availableonline.Amazing,
really.Anyhow,that’swhen
hefiguredoutthatshehad
liedtousaboutourpast.
Oncehestartedpeelingback
thelayers,itdidn’ttakehim
longtofindtheconnectionto
CloudLakeandourreal
father.”
“Howlongdidittakehim
tofindme?”
“Areyoujoking?”Kristy
smiled.Thefeverinhereyes
roseacoupleofdegrees.
“ThegirlwonderofCloud
Lake.Theyoungheroinewho
savedalittleboyfroma
viciouskiller.Thebrave,
resourcefulteenwhokilleda
manwithaliquorbottle.Oh,
yeah,yournamepoppedup
rightaway—oncewestarted
lookingintherightplace.”
“Youstartedmaking
plans,”Gracesaid.“Nice
worklandingthe
receptionist’sjobatthe
WitherspoonWay.”
“ThefactthatSprague
neededanewreceptionistat
thetimewasjustgoodluck,”
Kristysaid.“Buteven
withoutthatopening,Iwould
havefoundawaytogetclose
toyou,Grace.”
“How?”
“Simple.BurkeandI
wouldhaverentedspacein
thesameofficetowerandset
upshopasapairofinvestors.
It’seasy.Onewayoranother
Iwouldhavebecomeyour
friend.Iwantedtogetto
knowthewomanwho
murderedmyfather,yousee.
Iwantedtimetodecidejust
howIwouldmakeyoupay
forwhatyoudidtomy
family.Iwantedtodestroy
youslowlybutsurely.”
“Youintendedtostart
murderingthepeoplearound
meandleaveabottleof
vodkaatthescenes?”
“Iknewitwouldtakea
whileforthepolicetogetthe
significanceofthevodka.But
thatwasfinebyme.Iwas
sureyouwouldunderstand
immediatelythatthiswasall
aboutthepast.Iwantedtosee
yousufferandfallapart.I
wantedtodestroyyou.”
“Burkewasonboardwith
therevengeplan,then?”
Kristygrimaced.“Burkeis
allaboutthemoney.He
didn’tgetexciteduntilhe
realizedhowmuchrevenue
SpragueWitherspoonwas
pullinginwithhis
motivationalseminar
business.That’swhenhesat
upandpaidattention.”
“HesetouttomarryNyla.”
Kristy’ssmilewasthinand
cold.“Iwaspatient.Igave
himthetimeherequiredto
setuphiscon,butwhenItold
himIwasreadytostart
puttingmyplanintoaction,
hegotupset.Hewantedto
ridetheWitherspoonWay
gravytrainforanotheryearor
so.Hefiguredtheincome
woulddoubleoreventriplein
thattimeframe,thanksto
you.”
“Sohedidn’twantyouto
takeanyactionthatwould
jeopardizemypositionatthe
WitherspoonWay,atleast
notuntilhethoughtthathe
hadmaxedouttheprofits.”
“Wequarreled.”
“Right.Thatdaywhenyou
methimatacoffeeshopon
QueenAnne.”
“Shit,youreallydoknow
toomuch.”Kristyfrowned.
“Burkedidn’twanttomeet
mebutIinsisted.Ihad
alreadywaitedlongenough.I
hadgivenhimhisshotat
Nyla.Hestoodtomakeafew
million.Hewasgetting
greedy.HeknewthatSprague
hadtodiebeforeNylacould
gettheinheritance.Itwasjust
amatterofwhen.Hefinally
agreed.”
“Areyoutheonewho
murderedSprague?”
“Yes.”Kristysmiled,
pleased.“Iknewthecodeto
overridethehouseholdalarm
systembecauseIwastheone
whovolunteeredtolookafter
Sprague’splantswhilehe
wasoutoftown,remember?
Spraguealsoauthorizedme
tobuystuffforhimusinghis
creditcard.”
“Thatwashowyoumadeit
lookasifhehadpurchased
thevodkathatyouleftinhis
bedroom.”
“Exactly.”Kristybeamed.
“Iletmyselfintohismansion
shortlyaftermidnightand
shothimwhileheslept.He
neverevenwokeup.”
“Thenextmorningwhen
weallstartedtowonderwhy
Spraguehadn’tcomeintothe
office,youweretheonewho
suggestedthatsomeone
shouldcheckonhim,”Grace
said.“Iwasthelogicaloneto
dothatbecauseIlivedclosest
totheoffice.Mycarwasin
myapartmentgarage,onlya
fewblocksaway.”
“Itwassoeasy,”Kristy
said,almostcrooning.
“ThingswentexactlyasIhad
planned.Burkewaspissed
becausehefiguredhe’dlosta
fewmillionbuthewasstill
goingtodookayoutofthe
conandheknewit.”
“Untilhefoundoutthat
Nyla’sinheritancewas
missing.”
Kristysnorted.“Itoldhim,
easycome,easygo.Hedidn’t
likeitbuttherewasn’tmuch
hecoulddoaboutit.Buthe
calledmerightafterheleft
herapartment.Toldmethe
conwasbackupandrunning.
HesaidMillicentneeded
someonetolaunderher
money.ShetoldBurkethey
couldrunthesame
embezzlementschemeat
RaynerSeminars.”
“Soyoutriedtomurder
her,too.”
“Shewasnextonmylist,
anyway,”Kristysaid.
“Whatwentwrong?”
“ThebastardsIboughtthe
drugsfromcheatedme.”The
gunshiveredagaininKristy’s
hands.Shetookamomentto
regaincontrol.“Iwasina
hurry.IknewIhadtomove
fast.IgottoMillicent’sabout
anhourafterBurkeleft.Iwas
intears.ItoldherIneededto
talktosomeonebecauseIhad
stumbledacrosssome
informationaboutLarson
Raynerthatindicatedhewas
acon.Isaidwehadtotalk
aboutitbeforeweagreedto
workforhim.”
“Youlied.”
“Ofcourse.It’soneofmy
manytalents.ButMillicent
wantedtheinformationshe
thoughtIpossessed.Wehad
acoupleofdrinkstogether.I
putthedruginherglass.
Whenshestartedtopassout,
Idraggedherintothe
bedroomandinjectedher
withmoreofthejunk.She
shouldhavebeendeadby
morning.”
Afaintburningodor
waftedthroughthekitchen.
Thesoupwasstartingto
scorch.
“You’retheonewhosent
thelate-nightemails,”Grace
said.
Kristysmiled.“Thought
thosewouldmakeyou
nervous.Youknewsomeone
waswatchingfromthe
shadowsbutyouhadnoidea
wheretolook.Ilovedthat
part.”
“Whichoneofyousent
thosethugsafterJulius?”
Kristystoppedsmiling.
“ThatwasBurke’sidea.We
knewArkwrightwasgetting
tooclosetoyou.Burke
thoughtagoodbeatingwould
scarehimaway.Afterall,
Arkwrightwasjusta
businessman.Heshouldhave
beenasofttarget.”
“Abitofamisjudgmenton
Burke’spart,I’dsay.Andhe
certainlydidn’thirehigh-end
talenttodeliverthemessage.”
Kristygrimaced.“Same
bastardswhosoldmethe
drugsthatweresupposedto
takecareofMillicent.Burke
andIwerefromoutoftown.
Wedidn’tknowhowtofind
reliablehelphereinSeattle.
Burkeaskedaroundshortly
afterwearrived.Someone
recommendedthatpairof
idiots.”
“Weretheytheoneswho
putthedeadratandthevodka
bottleinmyrefrigerator?”
Graceasked.
“No.”Kristybeamed.
“Thatwasme.Prettycool,
huh?Ihadalotoffunwith
thatbit.WishIcouldhave
seenyourfacewhenyou
openedtherefrigeratorthat
day.”
“Thingsreallywentoffthe
railsafteryoufailedtokill
Millicent,”Gracesaid.
“Burkemusthavebeen
shockedwhenherealized
Millicenthadsentmethekey
tothemoneyandthatIhad
givenittoNyla.”
“Hesaidtherewasstilla
chancetosavethecon
becauseNylastilltrusted
him.Buthehadtogetridof
Arkwrightonceandforall
becauseArkwrightwastoo
closetothetruth.”
“ButBurkescreweduplast
nightandnoweverythingis
fallingapart,isn’tit?”
Thesmellofscorched
brothwasgettingstronger.
“DoyoumindifItakethe
potoffthefire?”Grace
asked.“Thesoupisburning.
Itmightsetoffthefire
alarm.”
Kristyhesitatedbutshe
obviouslywasn’tquiteready
topullthetrigger.She
wantedmoretimetoexplain
exactlywhyshehadgoneto
somuchtrouble.
“Movethedamnpot,”she
said.Shegesturedwiththe
gun.
Graceturnedtowardthe
stoveandcarefullygripped
theheat-proofhandle.She
liftedtheheavypotoffthe
gasburnerandshifteditto
theothersideofthestove.
Shedidnotturnoffthe
burnerthatshehadbeen
usingtoheatthesoup.
Casuallyshereachedfora
papertoweltowipeher
hands.Shepulledtheleading
edgetowardthestoveandleft
itlyingonthecounter.Then
sheplacedonehandonthe
counterasifsheneeded
support.
Sheturnedhalfwayaround
tolookatKristy.
“Youcameheretodayto
finishwhatyoustarted,didn’t
you?”
“Yes,”Kristysaid.Hot
tearsburnedinhereyes.
“Thiswasaboutpunishing
youforwhatyoudidtome
andmybrother.”
“WhatIdidtoyou?”
“Ifyouhadn’tmurdered
myfather—myrealfather—
everythingwouldhavebeen
differentforBurkeandme.”
“Youthinkyourbiological
fatherwouldhavetakenyou
in?Caredforyou?Theguy
beathissecondwifetodeath
andwouldhavemurdereda
littleboy,justtocoverupthe
crime.Tryarealitycheck,
Kristy.Whatkindoffather
doyouthinkhewouldhave
beentoyouifhehadlived?”
“Wewouldhavebeena
family.”
“Theperfectfamily,”
Gracesaidsoftly.
“Yes,damnyou.”
Gracemovedherhand
slightlyonthecounter,
guidingthetrailingedgeof
thepapertowelintothefire
ofthegasburner.
Thetowelburstintoflames
thatracedacrossthecounter,
consumingpapertowelswith
stunningspeed.Thethickroll
caughtfire.Smokebillowed.
Thesmokedetector
screamed.
Kristystaredatthesmoke
andthefierceflames.“What
didyoudo?Stopit.Stopit.”
Agnesclimbedtoherfeet.
Shehadtheheavypepper
millinonehand.
“Hangon,I’lltakecareof
everything,”Gracesaid.
ShelookedatAgnesasshe
spoke.Agnesgotthemessage
andhungback.
Graceturnedtowardthe
counterasifsheweregoing
totrytotampdowntheblaze.
Butsheseizedthehandleof
thepotinstead,swungback
aroundandhurledthe
scorchingsoupstraightat
Kristy.
Distractedbythesmoke
andfire,Kristydidn’tseethe
hotsoupcomingherway
untilitwastoolate.Her
screamofrageandpanicwas
louderthantheshrillsqueal
ofthefirealarm.Shefell
back,swipingmadlyatthe
soupthathadsplashedacross
herfaceandchest.
Thegunroared.Theshot
wentwild.Gracesentthe
heavypotsailingacrossthe
room.ItstruckKristyonthe
shoulder,spinningher
sideways.
Shewasfranticnow.Inher
desperationtogetthesoup
offherskin,shedroppedthe
gun.
Agnesmovedquicklyand
seizedtheweapon.Sheaimed
itatKristywiththesteady
calmofawomanwhois
accustomedtohandling
dangerousimplements.
“You’dbetterdo
somethingaboutthatfire,
dear,”AgnessaidtoGrace.
Shepitchedhervoiceabove
thescreechofthefirealarm.
“Oryou’lllosethehouse.
Thatwouldbeashame.”
“I’monit,”Gracesaid.
Sherushedtothecounter,
grabbedthelong-handled
soupspoonanduseditto
pushtheblazingrollofpaper
towelsintothesink.She
heardtheSUVengineinthe
drivejustassheturnedonthe
faucet.
Footstepsthuddedonthe
backporch.Sheglancedout
thewindow,heartpounding,
andsawHarleyMontoya.He
hadaguninhishand.He
kickedopenthedoorbefore
shecouldgettoitand
stormedintothekitchen.
Simultaneously,Juliusand
Devlinarrivedthroughthe
frontdoorwiththeferocityof
aninvadingarmy.Ithad
clearlybeenamovethethree
menhadcoordinated.
Julius,DevlinandHarley
slammedtoahaltandtookin
thesituation.Theylowered
theirweapons.
Thelastoftheflamesdied
inthesink.Thedraftcreated
bytheopendoorstookcare
ofthesmoke.Thescreechof
thefirealarmstopped
abruptly.
Devlinmovedtotake
chargeofthegunAgneswas
holdingonthesobbing
Kristy.
“Thanks,Agnes,”Devlin
said.“I’lltakeitfromhere.”
“She’sallyours,”Agnes
said.
Shesatdownabruptlyon
thenearestchair.Harleywent
tostandbehindher.His
fingersclosedaroundher
shoulder.Shereachedupand
touchedhisbighand.
JuliuslookedatGrace.His
eyesburned.Therightsideof
hishospitalgownwaswet
withfreshblood.
“Youmightbeinterested
toknowthatIdidahellofa
lotofpositivethinkingonthe
ridefromthehospitaltothis
house,”hesaid.
Shewalkedstraightinto
hisarms.Hecaughtherclose
withhisfreearm.
“Itoldyou,itworks,”she
mumbledintothehospital
gown.
“Areyouokay?”heasked.
Hisvoicewasraw.
“Yes,”shesaid.“Yes,I
thinkso.I’llprobablyhavean
anxietyattackwhenthisisall
overbutI’llpostponethatfor
awhile.”
“Grace.”
Thatwasallhesaid.Butit
wastheonlythingthat
neededsaying.
Forty-Eight
T
rustnoone,”Grace
said.“Everyonehas
ahiddenagenda.”
Sheshookherhead.“Ihateto
admititbutinthisparticular
case,youraffirmationsare
theonesthatseemtofitbest.”
“Youwerethetargetofa
carefullyplannedand
executedstrategy,”Julius
said.“Italmostworkedbutit
failedbecauseyoumanaged
tooutmaneuveryour
opponents.”
“BecauseIhadyourhelp.”
“Well,itwasthreeagainst
one,ifyoucountMillicent,”
Juliussaid.“Seemsonlyfair
thatintheendyouhad
reinforcements.Evenifthey
didshowuplate.”
Theywereonthesofain
thelivingroomofherhouse.
Juliuswasbackinjeansanda
worndenimshirtthatfit
looselyaroundhisfreshly
bandagedside.Hissock-clad
ankleswerestackedonthe
coffeetable.
Gracehadherlegscurled
underher.EarlierJuliushad
builtafireinthebigstone
fireplace.Dinnerhad
consistedoftakeoutanda
bottleofwine.Itshouldhave
beenaverycozy,very
romanticsetting,shethought.
Therewasevenan
affirmationthatsuitedthe
scene:Recognizethegood
momentsandcherishthem.
Butnighthaddescendedon
CloudLakeandinspiteof
thewine,shewasstillwired.
Shedidnotthinkthatshe
wouldsleep.Shedidnotwant
tosleep.
Thatafternoonshehad
worriedaboutAgnes
spendingthenightaloneafter
thedisturbingevents.But
Agneshaddeclinedtheoffer
ofthesparebedroom,saying
somewhatvaguelythatshe
hadafriendwhowascoming
overtostaywithher.Grace
hadunderstoodwhenshesaw
Harley’soldtruckpullupin
frontofAgnes’shouse.For
thefirsttimeintherecorded
historyofCloudLake,Harley
hadarrivedattheGilroy
housewithwhatappearedto
beanovernightbag.
“IknowMillicentwas
conspiringwithBurkebutit
wasallaboutthemoneyas
farasshewasconcerned,”
Gracesaid.“Shehadnothing
todowithSprague’smurder.
I’msureshehadnoideathat
KristyisBurke’ssister,let
alonethatKristywasplotting
revengeagainstme.”
“That’scertainly
Millicent’sstory,”Juliussaid.
“Youdon’tbelieveher?”
Julius’ssmiletookagrim
twist.“Thewomanisan
embezzler,Grace.Areyou
sureyouwanttothinkof
yourrelationshipwithheras
afriendship?”
“Okay,maybefriendship
isn’ttherightword.Butshe
leftallofherill-gottengains
tome,ifyouwillrecall.”
Gracelookedintothefire.
“Shedidthatbecauseshe
literallyhasnooneelseinthe
world.Thatisjustsosad.”
“Somethingtellsmeshe’ll
makeallsortoffriendsin
prison,assumingsheactually
endsupdoingtime.”
“Youaresocynical.”
Gracethoughtforaminute.
“MaybeMillicentwill
becomeoneofthosewhitecollarcriminalswhogets
recruitedbytheFBItodetect
otherembezzlers.”
“Iwouldn’tbesurprisedif
shemanagestotalkherway
intoajoblikethat.”
“Istillcan’tquitebelieve
thatthiswasallabout
revenge,”Gracesaid.
“Andmoney,”Juliussaid.
“Twoofthemostcompelling
forcesintheworld.”
“No.”Gracepulledaway
fromtheprotectiveembrace
ofhisarm.Shekneltonthe
cushionsandcaughtJulius’s
facebetweenherpalms.“I
refusetobelievethatrevenge
andmoneyarethestrongest
forcesintheworld.”
Hewatchedherwiththe
controlledhungerthatalways
shadowedhiseyes.
“Areyougoingtotellme
thatpositivethinkingisthe
strongestforceintheworld?”
heasked.“Becauseifyouare,
Ineedanotherdrinkfirst.”
Shesmiled.“WhatI’m
goingtotellyouisthatlove
isthestrongestforceonthe
planetandmaybeintheentire
universe.”
“Isthatoneofyour
affirmations?”
“Nope.It’sjustthetruth,at
leastforme.Iloveyou,
JuliusArkwright.”
Hewentverystill.Fora
momenthelookedatherasif
shehadspokeninsome
languagethathemighthave
knownlongagobuthad
forgotten.
Thenhemoved.Hetook
hisfeetoffthetableandset
hisglassdownwithgreat
precision.
“Grace.”
Hesaidhernameasifhe
couldnotquitebelievethat
sheexisted.Asifitcould
workmagic.
Sheputherownglasson
thetableandleanedintohim
—carefulnottotouchhis
freshlybandagedside.She
brushedhermouthagainst
his.
“Iknowyou’vegottrust
issuesandIknowthatyou
don’tgoforthefeel-good,
positive-thinkingstuff,”she
said.“Igetallthatbecause
I’vegotsomeissuesofmy
own.Noneofourissuesare
asimportantasthefactthatI
loveyou.”
“Grace.”
Hekissedherwitha
desperatepassion.Itwasthe
kissofamanwhohadbeen
thirstingforloveforsolong
hedidnotknowhowtoask
foritpolitely.Instead,he
seizeditwithbothhands.
“I’vebeenlookingforyou
allofmylife,”hesaid
simply.“Iloveyou.”
Thetruthwasthereinthe
starkwonderthatinfusedhis
words.Thenightwouldbea
longonebutshewouldnotbe
alone.NeitherwouldJulius.
“Wewillholdontothis,”
shesaid.
“Yes,”hesaid.“We’re
bothfighters.Weknowhow
tohangontowhatis
important.”
•••
S
heawokefromaragged
dreamscapethat
involveddarkness,aflightof
stairsandanemptydoorway.
Shesatup,suddenlywide
awakebutnotintheshaky,
breathlesswaythatindicated
animpendingpanicattack.
“Julius?”shewhispered.
“Overhere,”hesaid.
Shelookedtowardthe
windowandsawhim.Inthe
glowofthenight-lightshe
couldtellthathewaswearing
hisT-shirtandjeans.
“Baddream?”heasked.
“Startedoutthatway.”She
satupontheedgeofthebed
andautomaticallywentinto
thebreathingexercises.
“Whataboutyou?”
“Icouldn’tsleep,”hesaid.
“EverytimeIclosedmyeyes
Ithoughtaboutthatdamned
vodkabottlesittingonyour
kitchentable.”
“Yeah,thevodkathing
wascreepy.Kristyiscreepy.
ButwhenIthinkaboutwhat
adreadfulchildhoodshehad
—”
“Don’t,”Juliussaid.Itwas
acommand.“Don’tgothere.
Iamnotgoingtolistentoyou
makeexcusesfora
psychopath.”
Shethoughtaboutthat.
“You’reright.Sometimes
therearenoexcuses.”
“Zerointhiscase.How’s
thebreathinggoing?”
Shedidaninternalcheck.
“Okay,Ithink.”
“Needyourmeds?”
“No.No,I’mfine,really.”
“Wasyourdreamtheold
onethatyoutoldmeabout?”
“Atfirst.Iwasbackinthe
basementoftheasylum,
tryingtogettothetopofthe
stairs.Tragergrabbedmy
jacketbutIbrokefree.This
timeImadeitthroughthe
doorway.IfoundwhatIwas
searchingforontheother
side.”
Juliuscametowardthebed
andtookherintohisarms.
“So,yourdreamischanging.
That’sagoodthing,right?”
“Yes,I’msureitis.”
Hernerveswerestillon
edgebutthesensation—like
thedream—wasdifferentthis
time.Agreatrushof
expectationsparkledthrough
her.
“Whatdidyoufindonthe
othersideofthedoor?”Julius
asked.
Shesmiled.“You.”
“Good,”hesaid.He
soundedpleased.
“Andmynewcareerpath,”
sheadded.
“I’myournewcareer?”He
soundedmorethanpleased
now.Hesoundedexultant.“I
candefinitelylivewiththat.”
“No,no.Sorryforthe
confusion.Youaren’tmy
newcareer.Well,notexactly.
Morelikemyfirstemployee.
I’mgoingtoofferyouajob.”
Juliusconsideredthatfora
coupleofbeats.
“Youwantmetoworkfor
you?”hesaidfinally.
“Notfull-time,ofcourse.I
can’taffordyoufull-time.”
“Honey,youcan’tafford
onehourofmytime,atleast
notinyourcurrentfinancial
situation.However,Iam
willingtonegotiate.”
“That’sgoodbecauseI’m
goingtoneedafirst-rate
consultant.”
“Isee.”Hekissedher
foreheadandthenthetipof
hernose.Whenhegottoher
mouthheputhishands
aroundherwaist.“Whydon’t
youcomebacktobedandtell
meallaboutthisnewcareer
ofyours?”
“Sure,”shesaid.She
wriggledoutofhisarmsand
headedforthehallway.“But
firstI’dbettermakeafew
notes.Youknowwhatthey
say,inspirationoftenstrikes
inthemiddleofthenight.If
youdon’twriteitdown,
you’llforgetitbymorning.”
“I’veneverheardthat.But
asithappens,I’mfeeling
inspired,myself,atthe
moment.Inspiredtogoback
tobed.”
“Wait,”sheyelped.
Hestartedtoscoopherup
inhisarms.Hestopped
suddenly,hiseyestightening
inaspasmofpain.
“Shit,”hesaid.Hetooka
deep,carefulbreath.Gingerly
hetouchedhisrightside.
“Okay,let’stalkaboutyour
newcareerpath.”
Shetoldhimallabouther
visionofhergloriousnew
future.
Hisreactionwasswiftand
certain.
“That’llneverwork,”he
said.“Forgetit.Findanother
careerpath.”
“No,”shesaid.“Thisis
whatIwasborntodo.
You’vegottwooptions,
JuliusArkwright.Eitheryou
agreetoconsultforme,orI’ll
findsomeoneelsewhowill.”
Hismouthcurvedfaintly.
“Isthatathreat?”
“Definitely.”
Heappearedtogivethat
somethought.
“Well?”shesaidaftera
moment.
“Youdorealizethatyou’ll
bethefirstclientI’veever
hadwhogotawaywith
blackmailingme.”
“Really?Othershave
tried?”
“Sure.Notoftenbut,yes,
occasionallyonehastriedto
putmeinacorner.And
failed.”
“Don’tthinkofitas
blackmail,”shesaid
earnestly.“Thinkofmeasa
protégée.”
“No,I’mprettysurethisis
blackmail.WhatI’mthinking
isthatI’mgoingtoletyou
getawaywithit.”
“Excellentdecision,”she
said.
Hekissedher.Thenhe
raisedhisheadandsmiledhis
lionsmile.
“Now,let’sdiscussmy
fees,”hesaid.
Forty-Nine
I
renepouredmorecoffee
intoGrace’scup.
“You’rebackonthe
high-octanestufftoday.Are
yousureyou’reokay?”
“Yes,I’mfine,really,”
Gracesaid.“Didn’tsleepa
lotlastnightbutthatwas
onlytobeexpectedunderthe
circumstances.Iwasmore
concernedwithAgnes,totell
youthetruth.”
TheywereinIrene’s
office.Ontheothersideof
thewindowbusinessinCloud
LakeKitchenwarewasbrisk.
Thesunhadcomeoutandso
hadthelocalsandtourists.
Customersbrowsedthe
elegantlydisplayedpotsand
pansandthegleaming
kitchenkniveswiththesame
pleasurethatwasusually
reservedforartgalleriesand
jewelrystores.
“Agnesisatoughlady,”
Irenesaid.“Whichreminds
me—wordaroundtownthis
morningisthatshedidnot
spendthenightalone,either.”
Gracesmiled.“Icanreport
thatforthefirsttimeever,
HarleyMontoyadidnotleave
beforedawn.Infact,he
stayedforbreakfast.Isaw
theminthekitchentogether.”
“Abouttime.Maybe
they’llfinallygetmarried.”
“Don’tbesosureofthat.I
thinklastnightwasaspecialcircumstancesthing.Agnes
alwayssaysthatsheand
Harleylikethingsjustthe
waytheyare.Gardeningclub
rivalsbyday,loversbynight.
Afteralltheseyears,I’dsayit
worksforthem.”
“Eachtoherown,I
suppose.”Irenesippedher
coffee.“Whataboutyouand
Julius?”
“Juliusneedsahomeanda
career,”Gracesaid.“Iplanto
helphimmakethathappen.”
“He’sgotboth.”
“Theyaren’tworkingfor
him.I’mgoingtofixthe
problem.”
“Whywouldyoudothat?”
Ireneasked.“Ithoughtyou
haddecidedtogetoutofthe
fixingbusiness.”
“Turnsout,Ineedsomeof
thesamethingsfixedinmy
lifethatJuliusneedsfixed.”
Irenelaughed.“I’vebeen
awareofthatforalongtime.
WhydoyouthinkIwentto
thetroubleofarrangingthat
blinddate?”
“You’reagoodfriend.I
takebackeverythingIsaid
aboutblinddatesalways
beingabadidea.”
“Nextquestion.Why
Julius?”
“Discoveringthatsomeone
wantstokillyouhasawayof
focusingthemind,”Grace
said.“Ithasbecomeclearto
methatIloveJulius.”
“Isee.”Ireneleanedback
inherchair.“AndJulius?”
“Helovesme,too.”
Irenelookedpleased.“I
knewit.It’sinhiseyesevery
timehelooksatyou.Heck,it
wastherethatfirstnight.
Devlintellsmethatit’s
usuallylikethatformen.
Hardandfast.Sotellme
aboutthisnewcareerpathof
yoursandthejobyou’ve
linedupforJulius.”
Gracetoldher.
Irenelaughed.“Ican’tsee
Juliusgoingforit,notina
millionyears.”
“It’sadonedeal.Iapplied
Arkwright’ssecondrule
—Everyonehasahidden
agenda.Ifoundoutwhat
JuliusreallywantsandI
intendtogiveittohim.”
Fifty
T
heofficeofthe
presidentandCEO
ofHastings,Inc.,
waslocatedinthesouthwest
corneroftheforty-seventh
floorofagleamingoffice
tower.Therainhadstopped
butitwouldreturnsoon.The
rainalwayscamebackin
Seattle.Butfornowthe
cloudswerescattering.
Sunlightsparkledonthe
snow-cappedpeakofMount
Rainierandflashedonthe
watersofElliottBay.
Thewraparoundview
madeforaniconicpostcard,
Juliusthought.Thiswas
Seattleatitsmostspectacular.
Sure,MountRainier—an
activevolcanoconsideredone
oftheworld’smost
dangerous—wasonlysixty
milesaway.Andthewaters
ofthePugetSoundwerecold
enoughtokillyouwithinhalf
anhourifyoufelloffoneof
thepicturesqueferries.Itwas
alsotruethattheregionwas
lacedwithmajorseismicfault
lines.Theexpertswere
alwayswarningthatitwas
justamatteroftimebefore
thenextBigOnestruck.So
what?Thatjustmadelifeall
themoreinteresting.
“Whatareyoudoing
here?”Edwardasked.
“Consulting,”Juliussaid.
“Nooneaskedyouto
consultforHastings.”
“Thatisnotentirely
accurate,”Juliussaid.
“Someonedidaskmetodo
justthat.Myclient.”
Edwardsatforwardand
claspedhishandsontopof
hisdesk.“Ihopethatyour
clientispayingyoubecauseI
sureashelldon’tintendto.
Can’taffordyou.”
“Don’tworryaboutit,”
Juliussaid.“Myfeewillbe
covered.Now,doyouwant
myadviceornot?”
Edwardthoughtthatover
foramomentandthenhesat
backinhischair.
“Allright,I’llbite,”he
said.“What’sthefreeadvice
you’reoffering?”
“Itoldyou,it’snotfree.”
Edwardsnortedsoftly.
“There’salwaysaprice.I
learnedthatmuchfromyou.”
“Youshouldhavelearned
somethingelsefromme.
Trustnoone.”
Edward’seyesnarrowed.
“Includingyou?”
“Yourchoice,ofcourse.I
knowthere’satheorygoing
aroundthatIsomehow
sabotagedHastingsinthe
pasteighteenmonths.Butdo
youreallybelieveI’mtheone
behindyourproblems?”
Edwardlookedathimfora
longtime.
“No,”hesaideventually.
“Idon’t.Ineverdidbelieve
it.”
“Whynot?”
Edward’smouthtwistedin
agrimsmile.“Forthesame
reasonyournewcompanion
gaveDiana—you’dhave
doneabetterjobofit.I’dbe
standinginthesmokingruins
ofthecompanybynow.
InsteadI’mbeingslowlybled
todeath.That’snotyour
style.Youcanbecoldbloodedbutyouaren’tinto
long-termpainand
suffering.”
“Whatsecuritystepshave
youtaken?”
“Theusual.Ibroughtinan
outsideforensicaccountant
whoconductedafull-scale
audit.Ialsohadasecurity
firmrunnewbackground
checksonallemployees.
Nothing.Theclientsarejust
quietlyfadingaway.
Contractsaren’tbeing
renewed.Newonesaren’t
beingsigned.I’minadeath
spiral.IneedfinancingandI
can’tgetitbecauseofthe
rumors.Someofmybest
peoplearelookingforjobs
withotherfirms.Youwant
thetruth?I’mstartingtothink
amergerismyonlyoption.”
“You’reinnopositionto
negotiateonethatwillbe
favorabletoyouandyour
employees,”Juliussaid.
“Don’tyouthinkIknow
that?Butthealternativeisto
letthecompanygounder,
andthatwouldbeworsefor
everyone,includingmy
employeesandthefamily.”
“Yousaidyoubroughtina
securityfirmtoinvestigate
youremployees.”
Edwardsteepledhis
fingertips.“Theycameup
withnothing.”
“Whataboutyourboardof
directors?Didyouhave
everyoneonitinvestigated?”
Edwarddidnotmove.
“Areyouserious?Youknow
damnwellthateverymember
oftheboardisamemberof
thefamily.Eachandevery
onehasastrong,vested
interestinthesuccessofthe
company.”
“Youknowwhattheysay
aboutfamilyfeuds.AndIcan
tellyoufromrecent
experiencethatpeoplerarely
thinklogicallyinsituations
thatpresentthemwithan
opportunitytopunish
someonetheythinkdeserves
punishment.”
Edwardtappedhisfingers
togetherandlooked
thoughtful.
“Damn,”hesaidvery
softly.
“Peopletellyouthatthey
operateonlogicandreason
butthat’snothowitworks,”
Juliussaid.“Ithoughtyou
learnedthatfrommeaswell.
Thetruthis,mostfolksmake
theirdecisionsbasedontheir
emotions.Afterthedecision
ismade,theycanalwaysfind
reasonstojustifytheaction.”
“Everyonehasahidden
agenda.Arkwright’sRule
NumberTwo.”Edwardgotto
hisfeet.Hewalkedtothe
windowandlookedoutatthe
city.“It’strue,noteveryone
onmyboardlikestheidea
thatI’minchargenow.But
it’sonethingtoberesentful
orangry.It’ssomethingelse
altogethertoattemptto
destroythewholedamn
company.”
“Whenitcomesto
revenge,somepeoplewillgo
toanylengths.”Julius
grippedthearmsofhischair
andpushedhimselftohis
feet.“Speakingasyour
outsideconsultant,my
observationsthesepastfew
monthsindicatethatthe
sourceofyourproblemsis
veryclosetohome.”
Therewasalongsilence
beforeEdwardexhaled
slowly.
“Richard,”hesaid.
“Yourhalfbrother?I
agree.That’swhereI’dstart
lookingifIwereinyour
shoes.”
Edwardnodded,more
resignedthandismayed.“He
hasalwaysresentedme.
Thingsgotworsewhenthe
familyputmeinchargeof
thecompanyafterDaddied.
TherehavebeentimeswhenI
wonderedifhewassomehow
involvedintheproblemsat
HastingsbutIkepttelling
myselfthathewouldn’tdo
anythingthatwasagainsthis
ownbestfinancialinterests.”
“He’sprobablytelling
himselfthatifhecan
convincetherestofthe
familythatyouaren’tupto
thejobofmanagingHastings,
theotherswillpushyouout
andputhimincharge.”
“That’sthekindofshorttermthinkingthatcanruina
closelyheldbusinesslike
Hastings.”
“Yes,itis.”Juliuscrossed
theroomandjoinedEdward
atthewindow.“Whatareyou
goingtodo?”
“Haveatalkwith
Richard.”Edwardrubbedthe
backofhisneck.“I’llmakeit
clearthatifhedoesn’tagree
togiveuphisseatonthe
boardandleavequietly,I’ll
taketheissuetotherestof
thefamily.He’llstepdown.
Hewon’twanttheother
membersofthefamilytofind
outthathewastryingto
sabotagetheirmainsourceof
income—nottomentiontheir
socialstatus.”
“Ithinkyou’reright.
Richardwillleave.Butyou’d
betterwatchyourbackfrom
nowon.”
“Acheerfulthought.”
Edwardgrimaced.“Ican
handleRichard.Butitwould
begoodtoknowthatIhad
someoneIcouldtrustonthe
outsidetohelpmekeepan
eyeonhim,someonewho
alwaysseemstoknowwhat’s
goingoninthesharkpool.”
“Me?”
“You.”
“I’lldowhatIcantowatch
yourback,”Juliussaid.
“Thanks.”Edward’s
expressiontightened.“About
Diana—”
“DianaandIwere
mismatchedfromthestart.
Myfault.Iconvincedbothof
usthatIcouldbecomethe
kindofmanshewantedmeto
be.Thatwasnevergoingto
betrue.Thetwoofyou
belongtogether.”
“Ijustwantyoutoknow
that,inspiteofwhatyou
suspectortherumorsthat
wentaroundatthetime,we
werenevertogether—not
physically—untilafterDiana
leftyouandafterIhandedin
myresignation.”
“Don’tyouthinkIknow
that?”Juliussmiled.“You
weretheknightinshining
armor—forbothofus.You
savedDianaandmefroma
marriagethatwasdoomed
fromthestart.”
Edwardeyedhimwarily.
“That’saverygenerousway
oflookingatthings.”
“I’minadifferentplace
thesedays.I’vehadplentyof
timetothinkaboutthepast
andputthingsinto
perspective.”Juliuspauseda
beatandthengrinned.
“What’sthematter?Afraid
I’mplayingyou?”
“No,”Edwardsaid.“I
thinkyou’retellingmethe
truth.You’retryingtoclosea
fewdoorsonthepastsothat
youcanmoveforwardinto
thefuture,aren’tyou?That’s
whyyoucameheretoday.”
“Youhavetoexcuseme.
I’vebeenhangingoutwitha
positive-thinkingexpert
lately.I’mlearningtolook
forthesilverlining.Going
withtheglass-half-full
approach,blah,blah,blah.”
Edwardraisedhisbrows.
“Blah,blah,blah?”
“Don’tworry,Ihaven’t
completelylostmymind.Just
movinginadifferent
direction.”Juliusstartedto
turnaway.Hestopped.“One
morething.You’regoingto
needsomefinancingtopull
outofthedive.”
Edwardlookedathim.
“Areyouofferingtohelp
arrangeacashinfusion?”
“Areyouasking?”
Edwardthoughtaboutit
andthennodded.“There’sno
oneelseI’dratherdealwith
atthemoment.NooneelseI
cantrust.Thesituationis...
fragile.”
“Iknow.”
“I’vegotthewholedamn
familyandmorethana
thousandemployees
dependingonme,Julius.”
“Youcanturnthis
around.”
“Withalittlehelpfroma
friend,”Edwardsaid.He
smiled.“Thanks.”
“Forgetit.”
“No,Iwon’tforgetit.If
youeverneedanythingfrom
me,justask.”
“Thanks.Iappreciatethat.”
Theystoodthereinsilence
foratime,watchingthe
ferriesglideacrossElliott
Bay.
“Thatwasagoodafterdinnertalkyougavetheother
night,”Edwardsaid
eventually.“Definitelyyour
personalbest.Idon’tthinka
singlepersonintheaudience
dozedoff.”
“Ihadsomecoaching.”
Edward’smouthtwitched
atthecorners.“Grace
Elland?”
“Yes.”
“Accordingtothemedia,
thetwoofyouhavebeen
livingdangerouslylately.”
“Thegoodnewsisthatthe
excitementisover,”Julius
said.
“Itwasn’tjusttheafterdinnertalkthatwas
different,”Edwardsaid.“You
seemdifferent.”
“Gracechanged
everything.”
Edwardsmiled.“Diana
saidshethoughtthatmightbe
thecase.”
“Didshe?”
“Yousoundsurprised.”
Edwardlaughed.“Sometimes
othersseethingsmoreclearly
fromtheoutside.Youradvice
tometodaywouldbeaprime
example.”
“Youdidn’tseethetruth
abouttheproblemonyour
boardbecauseyouwere
unwillingtolookintheright
places.”
“Isn’tthatalwaysthe
case?”
“Yes.”Juliuswinced.
“Soundslikeoneofthose
damnWitherspoon
affirmations,doesn’tit?”
Edwardchuckled.“Yes,it
does.”
Juliusglancedathiswatch.
“I’dbettergetgoing.IfIhang
aroundhereanylonger
peoplewillstarttothinkthat
I’mgoingforahostile
takeoverofHastings.”
“Youdon’twantto
swallowmycompany?”
“No.”Juliusmovedtoward
thedoor.“I’vegotanother
projectinmind.”
“Yeah?”Edwardwatched
him.“Whatisit?”
“Graceisgoingtoestablish
afoundation.I’mher
consultant.”
“You?Inthedo-good
business?”
Juliusshrugged.
“Somethingalittledifferent
forme.”
“Nooffense,butworking
foracharitablefoundation
doesn’tsoundlikeagoodfit
foryou,Julius.Youcan’t
helpmakingmoney.It’syour
gift.”
“That’swhatGracesays.
She’sgoingtotakeadvantage
ofmytalenttofinanceher
foundation.”
“Soundslikeshespenttoo
muchtimeworkingforthat
positive-thinkingguru,
Witherspoon.”
“Youwanttoknowalittle
secret?”Juliusasked.“Grace
wasthebrainsofthatoutfit.”
“Yeah?”Edwardlooked
intrigued.“How’sthat?”
“Shewrotethecookbook
andtheblog.Cameupwith
theaffirmations.Figuredout
thetargetaudiences.Directed
theonlinemarketing.She
tookWitherspoonfroma
mid-levelplayerstraightto
thebigleagues.”
“Graceisthatgoodwhenit
comestobusiness?”
“She’sanaturalwhenit
comestomarketing.
Unfortunately,she’sonly
interestedinabusinessmodel
thathasafeel-goodmission.”
“Thusyournewfound
interestincharitywork,”
Edwardsaid.“Gotit.What
willyoubedoing,asidefrom
backingherupwith
funding?”
“Herinstinctsaregreat
whenitcomestomarketing,
butwherepeopleare
concerned,shehasabad
habitoffocusingonthe
positive.Waytootrusting.
Tendstoseethebestin
people.”
Edwardnoddedinsomber
understanding.“Thatkindof
naivetéleadstotroubleevery
damntime.”
“WhichiswhyI’llhandle
thepersonnelendofthingsat
thefoundation.Inadditionto
thehiring,I’llalsovetthe
fundingapplicants.Grace
needssomeonetofilterout
theconartistsandthe
daydreamers.”
“What’sthegoalof
Grace’sfoundation?”Edward
asked.
“Lotsofpeoplethinkthey
wanttoopentheirown
business.”
“Sure,it’soneofthebig
Americandreams.
Statisticallyspeaking,most
entrepreneurslosetheir
shirts.”
“Usuallybecausethey
don’thavesomeonetoteach
themtheropes,”Juliussaid.
“That’swhatGrace’s
foundationisallabout.She
seesitasasortofstart-up
universityforpeoplewho
otherwisewouldn’tbeableto
getafootinthedoorbecause
theylacktheconnectionsand
thefinancingandthe
knowledgeofhowto
navigatethesystem.”
Edwardlaughed.“You
meanyouactuallyintendto
followthroughonthatadvice
yougaveinyourafter-dinner
talk?Youplantoofferyour
servicesasamentor?”
“Gracesaysmytitlewill
beconsultant.I’mclingingto
that.”
“You,JuliusArkwright,
willofferfreeconsulting
advice,”Edwardsaid
neutrally.
“I’mnotsayingI’dbe
aversetomakingalittle
moneyontheside.”Julius
smiled.“Acertainpercentage
ofthoseproposalsthatthe
foundationfundswillprove
profitable,I’msure.”
“Nowthatsoundsmore
liketheJuliusArkwrightI
know.”
“WaituntilItellGrace,”
Juliussaid.
“Tellherwhat?”
“Shesaysnooneever
remembersthedetailsofan
after-dinnerspeech.She
claimsthatalltheaudience
recallsaretheemotionsthey
feltduringthetalk.”
“Dependsonthespeech,”
Edwardsaid.“Bytheway,
younevertoldmethename
ofyourclient,theonewho
hiredyoutoconsulthereat
Hastingstoday.”
“Grace.”
Edwardgotaknowing
lookinhiseyes.“Ihada
feelingthatmightbethecase.
ShouldIaskaboutyourfee?”
Juliusopenedthedoorand
lookedbackoverhis
shoulder.“She’sbuyingme
lunchtoday.”
Edwardlaughed.Julius
sawheadsturnintheouter
office.Theexpressiononthe
receptionist’sfaceandonthe
facesofthethreepeople
waitingtospeakwithEdward
werepriceless.
Automatically,heranthe
scenarioinhishead.The
newsthatArkwrightand
Hastingswerebackongood
termswouldbeallover
Seattlebytheendoftheday.
Carefullyplottedstrategies
designedtotakeadvantageof
theHastingsbusiness
situationwouldcollapse.
Mergers-and-acquisitions
expertswouldlookelsewhere
fortargets.Headhunters
wouldthinktwiceabout
tryingtolureawaysomeof
Hastings’sbestexecutives.
Employeeswhohadstayed
awakeatnightworrying
abouttheirjobswouldrelax.
Juliuscrossedthehushed
receptionroom,smilinga
little.Gracewasrightabout
onething,thefuturecouldbe
changed.Andshewasjust
thewomanwhocoulddoit.
Fifty-One
S
hewaitedforJulius
downstairsinthe
coffeeshop.The
grande-sizedcupoforganic,
free-tradedecafcoffeeshe
hadorderedwasstillnearly
fullbecauseafterorderingit
shehadconcludedthather
tightlystrungnervescould
nothandleevendecaf.
Likemostoftheother
customersaroundher,she
hadherlaptopopen.Shewas
supposedtobeworkingon
themissionstatementforthe
newfoundationbutshehad
discoveredthatshewasnot
yetreadytoconcentrateon
targetaudiencesand
marketingstrategies.The
meetingbetweenJuliusand
Edwardseemedtobetaking
forever.Agoodsign,shetold
herself.Ormaybenotagood
sign.
Sherefusedtogonegative.
ThemomentshesawJulius
walkintothecoffeeshop,she
knewshecouldstopfretting.
Hisfacewasasunreadableas
ever,butwhenhegotcloser,
shesawhiseyesandknew
shecouldrelax.
“I’mhungry,”hesaid.
“I’mreadytocollectmyfirst
paycheck.Wherearewe
goingforlunch?”
“Iknowanicelittleplace
thatcaterstovegetarianson
FirstAve.neartheMarket,”
shesaid.
“Oh,joy.”
“Butfirsttellmehowthe
meetingwent.Iwanta
report.”
Juliusshrugged.“Idoubtif
we’llbehavingThanksgiving
withtheHastingsfamilythis
yearbutEdandIreachedan
understanding.HeknowsI’m
notafterhisbusinessandhe
knowswhathehastodoto
savehisfamily’scompany.
BythetimeyouandIfinish
lunch,therumorsthatEdand
Iaredoingbusinesstogether
againwillhavefiltered
throughhalfofSeattle.The
otherhalfwillgetthegossip
beforetheysitdowntodinner
thisevening.”
“Excellent.”Shesmiled,
satisfied.“Therumorsalone
willchangethebusiness
dynamicofthesituationfor
theHastingsempire.”
“Yes,theywill,buthere’s
thething—Idon’twantto
talkaboutbusinessanymore
today,”Juliussaid.“Iwantto
talkaboutus.”
Shepausedintheactof
closingherlaptop.Afrisson
ofhopemingledwith
uncertaintymakinghergo
verystill.Nonegative
thinking,shetoldherself.But
herfuturewasonthelineand
sheknewit.
“Okay,”shesaid.“Doyou
wanttohavethis
conversationoverlunch?”
“No.Iwanttohaveithere.
Now.”
“What,exactly,doyou
wanttodiscuss?”Shefeltas
ifshewaswalkingover
quicksand.Onefalsestep...
Hereachedacrossthelittle
tableandtookherhandinhis.
“Iloveyou,GraceElland.I
don’tthinkIeverunderstood
whatlovewasuntilImet
you.Itchangeseverything.”
Itwasn’tthefirsttimehe
hadtoldherhelovedher,but
sheknewshecouldnever
hearthewordsoftenenough.
Heremotionsweresodazzled
thatshefearedshemight
burstintotears,righttherein
frontofthebaristasand
everyoneelse.The
atmosphereinthebusy
coffeehousewassuddenly
crystalline;pureandperfect.
“Meetingyouchanged
thingsforme,too,”shesaid,
loweringhervoicebecauseof
thepeopleatthenearby
tables.“Iloveyou,Julius.”
“Iknowthisisallnewfor
bothofusandthatweshould
giveourselvessometime.But
Idon’twanttowasteany
moretime.”Hetightenedhis
griponherhand.“Willyou
marryme?Makeahomewith
me?Makeafamilywith
me?”
“Yes,”shesaid.“Yes.And
yes.”
Juliusgotupandpulled
hertoherfeet.Helookedat
thebaristasandthe
customers.
“Shejustsaidyes,”he
announced.
Applausebrokeout.
Graceflushed.Sheknew
shewasturningscarletbut
shewasalsoawarethatshe
hadneverbeenhappierinher
life.
Juliuskissedher,right
thereinfrontofthetalented
baristasandallthepeople
whoweredrinkingcoffeeand
workingoncomputersand
phones.
Theapplausegotlouder.
Juliusreleasedherlong
enoughtopickupherlaptop.
Shegrabbedherjacketand
bag.Thecheersfollowed
themoutsideintothe
glittering,rain-polished
afternoon.Thesidewalks
werecrowded,astheyalways
wereinSeattlewhenthesun
cameouttoplay.Sunglasses
wereeverywhere,appearing
asifbymagic.
“Gotanaffirmationforthis
moment?”Juliusasked.
“Theoneyoucameup
withworksforme,”Grace
said.“Lovechanges
everything.”
“That’snotan
affirmation,”Juliussaid.
“That’sapromise.”
GARDENOF
LIES
Excerpt
S
imonRoxby
regardedUrsula
throughthelensesof
hiswire-rimmedspectacles.
“Whatthedevildoyoumean
youwon’tbeavailableforthe
nextfewweeks,Mrs.Kern?
Wehaveanarrangement.”
“Myapologies,sir,buta
pressingmatterhascomeup,”
Ursulasaid.“Imustdevote
myfullattentiontoit.”
Adisturbinghushfellon
thelibrary.Ursulamentally
fortifiedherself.Shehadbeen
acquaintedwithSimonfor
lessthanafortnightandhad
workedwithhimononlytwo
occasions,butshefeltshe
hadanintuitive
understandingoftheman.He
wasprovingtobeadifficult
client.
Hehadverynearly
perfectedtheartofnot
signalinghismoodorhis
thoughts,butshewas
increasinglyalerttoafew
subtlecues.Thedeepsilence
andtheunblinkinggazewith
whichhewaswatchingher
didnotbodewell.Shesat
verystraightinherchair,
doingherbestnottolethim
knowthathisunwavering
regardwassendingsmall
chillsdownherspine.
Evidentlyconcludingthat
shewasnotrespondingashe
hadanticipatedtohisstern
disapproval,heescalatedthe
leveloftensionbyrising
slowlyfromhischairand
flatteninghispowerfulhands
onthepolishedsurfaceofhis
mahoganydesk.
Therewasadeceptively
gracefulqualityaboutthe
wayhemovedthatgavehim
afascinatingauraofquiet,
self-containedpower.The
dark,unemotionalmanner
characterizedeverything
abouthim,fromhiscalm,
nearlyuninflectedspeechto
hisunreadablegreen-andgoldeyes.
Hischoiceofattire
reinforcedtheimpressionof
shadowsandice.Intheshort
timeshehadknownhimshe
hadneverseenhimin
anythingotherthanhead-totoeblack—blacklinenshirt
andblacktie,blacksatin
waistcoat,blacktrousersand
ablackcoat.Eventheframes
ofhisspectaclesweremade
ofsomematte-blackmetal—
notgold-orsilver-plated
wire.
Hewasnotwearingthe
severelytailoredcoatatthe
moment.Itwashangingona
hooknearthedoor.After
greetingherashorttimeago,
Simonhadremoveditin
preparationforworkonthe
artifacts.
Sheknewshehadnoright
tocritiquethemanonthe
basisofhiswardrobe.She,
too,wasdressedinher
customaryblack.Inthepast
twoyearsshehadcometo
thinkofhermourningattire
—fromherwidow’sveiland
stylishblackgowntoher
blackstacked-heel,anklehighbuttonboots—asboth
uniformandcamouflage.
Itflashedacrosshermind
thatsheandSimonmade
quiteasomberpair.Anyone
whohappenedtowalkinto
thelibrarywouldthinkthey
werebothsunkdeepinto
unrelentinggrief.Thetruthof
thematterwasthatshewasin
hiding.Notforthefirsttime,
shewonderedwhatSimon’s
motiveswereforgoingabout
inblack.Hisfatherhaddied
twomonthsago.Itwasthe
eventthathadbroughtSimon
hometoLondonafterseveral
yearsoflivingabroad.He
wasnowincommandofthe
Roxbyfamilyfortune.But
shewasquitecertainthatthe
blackclotheswereindicative
ofalong-standingsartorial
habit—notasignof
mourning.
Ifevenhalfofwhatthe
presshadprintedregarding
SimonRoxbywastrue,she
reflected,perhapshehadhis
reasonsforwearingblack.It
was,afterall,thecolorof
mystery,andSimonwas
nothingifnotagreatmystery
toSociety.
Shewatchedhimwitha
deepwarinessthatwasspiked
withcuriosityandwhatshe
knewwasarecklesssenseof
fascination.Shehad
anticipatedthatgivingnotice,
especiallyinsuchasummary
fashion,wouldnotbemet
withpatienceand
understanding.Clients
frequentlyproveddifficultto
manage,butshehadnever
encounteredonequitelike
Simon.Theveryconceptof
managingSimonRoxby
staggeredthemind.Ithad
beencleartoheratthestart
oftheirassociationthathe
wasaforceofnatureanda
lawuntohimself.Thatwas,
ofcourse,whatmadehimso
interesting,shethought.
“Ihavejustexplainedthat
somethingunforeseenhas
arisen,”shesaid.Shewas
carefultokeephervoicecrisp
andprofessional,awarethat
Simonwouldpounceon
anythingthathintedat
uncertaintyorweakness.“I
regretthenecessityof
terminatingourbusiness
relationship.However—”
“Thenwhyareyou
terminatingour
arrangement?”
“Thematterisofa
personalnature,”shesaid.
Hefrowned.“Areyouill?”
“No,ofcoursenot.Ienjoy
excellenthealth.Iwasabout
tosaythatIhopeitwillbe
possibleformetoreturnata
laterdatetofinishthe
catalogingwork.”
“Doyou,indeed?And
whatmakesyouthinkIwon’t
replaceyou?Thereareother
secretariesinLondon.”
“Thatisyourchoice,of
course.Imustremindyou
thatIdidwarnyouatthe
outsetthatIhaveother
commitmentsinregardtomy
businesswhichmightfrom
timetotimeinterferewithour
workingarrangement.You
agreedtothoseterms.”
“Iwasassuredthat,in
additiontoagreatmanyother
excellentqualities,youwere
quitedependable,Mrs.Kern.
Youcan’tjustwalkinhere
andquitonthespotlikethis.”
Ursulatwitchedtheskirts
ofherblackgownsothat
theydrapedinneat,elegant
foldsaroundherankleswhile
sheconsideredheroptions.
Theatmosphereinthelibrary
wasrapidlybecomingtense,
asifsomeinvisibleelectricity
generatorwaschargingthe
air.Itwasalwayslikethis
whenshefoundherselfin
closeproximitytoSimon.But
todaythedisturbing,rather
excitingenergyhada
distinctlydangerousedge.
Intheshorttimeshehad
knownhimshehadnever
seenhimlosehistemper.He
hadnevergonetotheother
extreme,either.Shehadyet
toseehimlaugh.True,he
haddredgedupthe
occasional,verybriefsmile,
andtherehadbeenacertain
warmthinhisusuallycold
eyesfromtimetotime.But
shegotthefeelingthathe
wasmoresurprisedthanshe
waswhenheallowedsuch
emotionstosurface.
“Idoapologize,Mr.
Roxby,”shesaid,notforthe
firsttime.“IassureyouI
havenochoice.Timeisofthe
essence.”
“IfeelIdeservemoreofan
explanation.Whatisthis
pressingmatterthatrequires
youtobreakourcontract?”
“Itregardsoneofmy
employees.”
“Youfeelobligatedtolook
intothepersonalproblemsof
youremployees?”
“Well,yes,inanutshell,
thatismoreorlessthe
situation.”
Simoncameoutfrom
behindthedesk,lounged
againstthefrontofitand
foldedhisarms.
Hissharplyetchedfeatures
hadanascetic,unforgiving
quality.Onoccasionitwas
easytoenvisionhimasan
avengingangel.Atother
timesshethoughthemadea
verygoodLucifer.
“Theleastyoucandois
explainyourself,Mrs.Kern,”
hesaid.“Youowemethat
much,Ithink.”
Shedidnotowehim
anything,shethought.She
hadtakenpainstomakeher
termsofemploymentclear
rightfromthestart.Asthe
proprietoroftheKern
SecretarialAgency,sherarely
tookassignmentsherself
thesedays.Herbusinesswas
growingrapidly.Theresult
wasthatforthepastfew
monthsshehadbeenbusyin
theoffice,trainingnew
secretariesandinterviewing
potentialclients.Shehad
acceptedthepositionwith
Simonasafavortohis
mother,LillyLafontaine,a
celebratedactresswhohad
retiredtowritemelodramas.
Shehadnotexpectedto
findthemysteriousMr.
Roxbysoriveting.
“Verywell,sir,”shesaid,
“theshortversionisthatI
havedecidedtotakeanother
client.”
Simonwentverystill.
“Isee,”hesaid.“Youare
nothappyinyourworkhere
withme?”
Therewasagrimnotein
hisvoice.Sherealizedwitha
startthathewastakingher
departurepersonally.Even
moreshocking,shegotthe
impressionthathewasnot
particularlysurprisedthatshe
wasleavinghisemploy;
rather,heseemedstoically
resigned,asifitforetold
someinevitabledoom.
“Onthecontrary,sir,”she
saidquickly,“Ifindyour
catalogingprojectquite
interesting.”
“AmInotpayingyou
enough?”Somethingthat
mighthavebeenrelief
flickeredinhiseyes.“Ifso,I
amopentorenegotiatingyour
fee.”
“Iassureyou,itisnota
matterofmoney.”
“Ifyouarenotunhappyin
yourworkandifthepayis
satisfactory,whyareyou
leavingmeforanother
client?”heasked.
Thistimehesounded
genuinelyperplexed.
Shecaughtherbreathand
suddenlyfeltoddlyflushed.It
wasalmostasifhewere
playingthepartofajilted
lover,shethought.But,of
course,thatwasnotatallthe
case.Theirswasaclientemployerrelationship.
Thisiswhyyourarely
acceptmaleclients,she
remindedherself.Therewasa
certaindangerinvolved.But
findingherselfattractedto
oneofhercustomerswasnot
thesortofriskshehad
envisionedwhenshe
establishedthepolicy.Her
chiefconcernhadbeenthe
knowledgethatmen
sometimesposedarisktothe
sterlingreputationsofher
secretaries.Inthecaseof
SimonRoxbyshehadmade
anexceptionandnowshe
wouldpayaprice.
Allinall,itwasprobably
bestthattheassociationwas
endedbeforeshelosther
headand,possibly,herheart.
“Astomyreasonsfor
leaving—”shebegan.
“Whoisthisnewclient?”
Simonsaid,cuttingheroff.
“Verywell,sir,Iwill
explainthecircumstancesthat
requiremetoterminatemy
employmentwithyou,but
youmayhaveafew
quibbles.”
“Tryme.”
Shetensedatthewhisper
ofcommandinhistone.
“Ireallydonotwanttoget
intoanextendedargument,
sir—especiallyinlightofthe
factthatIhopetoreturnto
thispositioninthenear
future.”
“Youhavealreadymadeit
clearthatyouexpectmeto
waituponyourconvenience.”
Shewavedoneblackglovedhandtoindicatethe
jumbleofantiquitiesthat
clutteredthelibrary.“These
artifactshavebeensitting
hereforyears.Surelythey
canwaitabitlongertobe
cataloged.”
“Howmuchlonger?”he
askedalittletooevenly.
Sheclearedherthroat.
“Well,astothat,I’mafraidI
cannotbespecific,atleastnot
yet.PerhapsinafewdaysI
willhavesomenotionofhow
longmyotherassignment
willlast.”
“Ihavenointentionof
arguingwithyou,Mrs.Kern,
butIwouldliketoknowthe
identityoftheclientyoufeel
ismoreimportantthanme—”
Hebrokeoff,looking
uncharacteristicallyirritated.
“Imeanttosay,whatsortof
secretarialworkdoyoufeelis
morecriticalthancataloging
myartifacts?Isyournew
clientabanker?Theownerof
alargebusiness,perhaps?A
lawyeroraladyinPolite
Societywhofindsherselfin
needofyourservices?”
“TwodaysagoIwas
summonedtothehouseofa
womannamedAnneClifton.
Anneworkedformefortwo
years.Shebecamemorethan
anemployee.Iconsideredher
afriend.Wehadsomethings
incommon.”
“Inoticeyouarespeaking
inthepasttense.”
“Annewasfounddeadin
herstudy.Isentforthe
police,butthedetectivewho
waskindenoughtovisitthe
scenedeclaredthatinhis
opinionAnne’sdeathwas
fromnaturalcauses.He
thinksherheartfailedorthat
shesufferedastroke.”
Simondidnotmove.He
watchedherasthoughshe
hadjustannouncedthatshe
couldfly.Clearlyher
responsewasnottheanswer
hehadexpected,buthe
recoveredwithremarkable
speed.
“I’msorrytohearofMiss
Clifton’sdeath,”hesaid.He
paused,eyesnarrowing
faintly.“Whatmadeyou
summonthepolice?”
“IbelieveAnnemayhave
beenmurdered.”
Simonlookedather,
sayingnothingforatime.
Eventuallyheremovedhis
spectaclesandbeganto
polishthemwithapristine
whitehandkerchief.
“Huh,”hesaid.
Ursuladebatedanother
moment.Thetruthofthe
matterwasthatshewanted
verymuchtodiscussherplan
withsomeonewhowouldnot
onlyunderstandbutpossibly
providesomeusefuladvice—
someonewhocouldkeepa
confidence.Herintuitiontold
herthatSimonRoxbywas
goodatkeepingsecrets.
Furthermore,inthepastfew
daysithadbecomeblazingly
clearthathepossessedan
extremelylogicalmind.Some
wouldsayhetookthat
particulartraittotheextreme.
“WhatIamabouttotell
youmustbeheldinstrictest
confidence,doyou
understand?”shesaid.
Hisdarkbrowscame
togetherinaforbiddingline.
Sheknewshehadoffended
him.
“RestassuredIamquite
capableofkeepingmymouth
shut,Mrs.Kern.”
Eachwordwascoatedina
thinlayerofice.
Sheadjustedhergloves
andthenclaspedherhands
firmlytogetherinherlap.She
tookanadditionalmomentto
collectherthoughts.Shehad
nottoldanyoneelse,noteven
herassistant,Matty,whatshe
intendedtodo.
“Ihavereasontosuspect
thatAnneCliftonwas
murdered,”shesaid.“Iintend
totakeherplaceinthe
householdofherclienttosee
ifIcanfindsomecluesthat
willpointtothekiller.”
•••
Foracompletelistofthis
author’sbooksclickhereor
visit
www.penguin.com/krentzcheck
Lookingfor
more?
Visit
Penguin.comfor
moreaboutthis
authoranda
completelistof
theirbooks.
Discoveryour
nextgreatread!