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Silver Linings

Page 8

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  Hugh's expression softened in the warm sunlight. “Babe, about that bit with the gun back on Purgatory. You did a fine job of dealing with Gibbs. I was proud of you. I know you haven't had much experience with that sort of thing, but you were terrific. I mean, really terrific. And I also know what it was like for you to have to go through those caves, not once but twice. And I know stealing a boat was kind of a novelty for you.”

  “Kind of.”

  “Like I said, I was real proud of you, babe.”

  “You don't know what that means to me, Hugh.” She mocked him with a sugary smile.

  “Oh, hell, Mattie. You can't go home now. You've got to give me some time.” Hugh stabbed his fingers through his hair. “That's what this whole thing was all about.”

  Mattie could not bear the expression of chagrin and disappointment in his eyes. She glanced across the street, staring blindly at what appeared to be a small inn. “I'm sorry, Hugh. I really am. But there's no point in trying to pursue this relationship. We both know that.”

  “No, we both sure as hell do not know that.” He clamped a hand around her upper arm and hauled her across the street toward the inn. “We'll talk about it later, though. I've got to see about getting us off this island, and you probably want to do some shopping. You've been wearing those same clothes for a couple of days. And you'll probably want to take a bath, I bet.”

  Momentarily distracted by the mention of clean clothes and a bath, Mattie allowed herself to be led across the narrow street and into the tiny inn lobby. She glanced around with resignation at the nonfunctioning fan over-head, the single worn chair, and the aging copies of Playboy on the small wicker table. There was no one behind the desk.

  “Is this the best Brimstone has to offer? I've got my bank card. I don't mind staking us to something better,” Mattie whispered to Hugh.

  “Sorry, this is it. Brimstone hasn't exactly been discovered by tourists yet. Don't worry, it's clean. I've stayed here a couple of times myself.” Hugh leaned over the counter and hit the bell.

  A few minutes later a thin old man with a leathery face stuck his head around the corner. “What you want?”

  “A room for the night,” Hugh said.

  “Two rooms,” Mattie hissed.

  He ignored her, digging into his wallet for several bills. “The best one you've got.”

  “I know you. Yer name is Monk or Bishop or something, ain't it? You was here once or twice before.” The old man eyed the cash and came forward reluctantly. He was working a wad of chewing tobacco with great energy.

  “Abbott. Hugh Abbott. The lady wants a room with a bath. Got one?”

  “Yep. One. Yer in luck.” The old man made the cash disappear from the countertop. He grinned at Mattie. “Take all the baths you want, ma'am. Be stayin' long?”

  “Just overnight,” Hugh informed him as he reached for the battered-looking register. “We're leaving tomorrow morning on the first flight out of here. Hank Milton still operating out at the strip?”

  “No. Hank went back to the States six months ago. Got a new guy comin' in once a day in the afternoons now. Leaves at eight in the mornings. Goes to Honolulu but he'll stop off anywhere in between if you pay him enough. Name's Grover. You better look him up this afternoon if you wanna be on his milk run. That plane o' his is small and usually goes out full.”

  “What this island needs is more frequent and reliable air charter service,” Hugh said as he scrawled something in the register.

  “That it do.” The old man nodded agreeably. “That it do. We're all startin' to get civilized out here.”

  Hugh smiled with satisfaction as he picked up the key. “Come on, babe,” he said to Mattie, tossing the key into the air and catching it easily. “Let's get you upstairs. You can take your bath while I look up Grover.”

  Mattie eyed the single key in his hand. “What about a second room for yourself?”

  “I'll take care of it later,” he assured her as he hustled her up the stairs.

  “Hugh, I'm serious about this. I do not intend to share a room with you.”

  “I hear you.” He halted at the landing, glanced at the number on the key, and turned to the left. “I won't say I'm not a little hurt, however. After all, you didn't seem to have a problem sharing a room with me last night, did you? But I won't push it.”

  “Thank you,” she said dryly. Then a twinge of guilt overrode her better judgment. She touched his arm and looked up at him. “Hugh, I'm not trying to be difficult about this. I just feel it would be better for both of us if we don't start something. I really don't think I could stand to go through a second time what I went through the last time you and I got involved.”

  “This is different, babe.” He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose as he stuck the key in the lock.

  “You keep saying that, but it's not.”

  “Take your bath,” Hugh said as he pushed open the door. “I'll be back in an hour or so. Besides booking that morning flight, I want to get a shave. We'll have dinner at a little place I know down the street. Great burgers.”

  Mattie winced. “What about the food in those string bags? There's still some cheese left. Gibbs and Rosey didn't eat all of it on the boat.”

  “I don't care if I never see another can of pâté or jar of stuffed olives again. What I want right now is some red meat. See you later, babe.”

  Mattie was too weary to argue anymore about anything. She would deal with it later, she told herself as she stood surveying the hot, horrid little inn room.

  The bed looked lumpy. The small rug beside it had once been shocking pink but was now gray with grime. The single bulb in the overhead fixture was probably all of twenty watts.

  Hugh had called this a nice, clean place, she remembered. Obviously his idea of decent accommodations was somewhat different from her own. He had not even blinked when he'd opened the door and revealed the sleazy interior of the room.

  It made Mattie wonder just what sort of accommodations he was accustomed to. She knew that he brushed up against luxury once in a while simply because he had to in the course of working for Charlotte Vailcourt. Furthermore, he had recognized brie and sun-dried tomatoes when he saw them. But it was equally clear he was totally at home in depressing surroundings such as this.

  It occurred to Mattie again that she knew next to nothing about Hugh Abbott's past. In fact, now that she thought about it, neither did Charlotte. Mattie remembered asking her aunt about her pet wolf's background on one occasion and Charlotte had simply shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? The man's good at what he does and that's the important thing.”

  She put her purse down on the tattered, grimy chenille bedspread. At least no one was pointing a gun at her and there was no blood on the floor. What was more, she could see the ocean from the small window, and the view was spectacular.

  Things were definitely looking up.

  Downstairs in the narrow lobby Hugh paused to lean over the front desk and bang the little bell.

  “What you want now?” the old man asked, not unpleasantly. He was still chewing briskly.

  Hugh tugged his wallet out of his jeans pocket and removed a couple of bills. “This is for you.”

  “For a second room?” The man's brows climbed derisively.

  “No. For saying I am booked into another room in the event anyone, including the lady, inquires. Do we understand each other?”

  “We understand each other just fine.” The clerk pocketed the bills without missing a single chew. “Say, you just come from Purgatory?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the heck's goin' on over there, anyhow?”

  “Don't know yet. Some kind of military coup. Heard anything?”

  “Nah. Had a few people like yourself passin' through on their way to what you might call more pleasant locales, but no one seems to know what's goin' on back on Purgatory. They just figured they'd best get out while the gettin' was good.”

  “Smart. I had a friend who didn't make it out.�
��

  The clerk sucked on his wad of tobacco for a while. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Uh-huh. Do me a favor, will you?”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “Keep an eye on the lady. If she goes out shopping, make sure no one follows her back up the stairs to her room, okay?”

  “Sure. I'll keep an eye on her. But it might be kind of hard tellin' the difference between her visitors and the ones who come to visit the other lady we got stayin' here. The other one, she works out of here, if you know what I mean.”

  Hugh's mouth went grim. “No one follows my lady upstairs except me, got it?”

  “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

  Hugh went out the door and stepped into the hot afternoon sunlight. It struck him that tonight would be the first time he had ever taken Mattie out to a real restaurant meal. He grinned as he started down the street in search of Grover the pilot. It would be a real date. Their first. You couldn't really count that night a year ago at her apartment. At least, Mattie wouldn't want to count it.

  Maybe he'd see if he could find a bottle of brandy or rum to take back to the room after dinner, Hugh told himself. Mattie needed to loosen up a bit and relax. She'd been through a hell of a lot lately.

  Definitely too much stress.

  CHAPTER

  Five

  “Well, well, well. Hello there. Didn't realize I had competition moving in next door. Welcome aboard, honey. The more the merrier, I always say. The name's Evangeline Dangerfield. What's yours?”

  Mattie, who had been standing in the hallway outside her room, struggling with the rusty key in the aging lock, glanced up in surprise. Another woman was lounging in the open doorway of the room next door. Mattie, who would have been the first to admit she had led a somewhat sheltered life until quite recently, had never seen anything quite like her. Not close up, at any rate.

  Evangeline Dangerfield appeared to be a few years older than Mattie, although it was difficult to tell precisely how much older because of the thick makeup. Her light brown eyes were heavily outlined in black, and the silver eyeshadow that went all the way up to her brows glittered iridescently. Her full, pouty lips were scarlet, and there was a slash of dark pink beneath her cheek-bones. An unbelievably thick mane of improbably blond hair was pulled up high on her head and cascaded down her back in a million curls. The mass was anchored with rhinestone clips that shone in the weak hall light.

  The rest of Evangeline Dangerfield was equally exceptional. She was an obviously well-endowed woman who showcased her two main assets in a startling low-cut sarong-style dress. The dress, a flower-splashed creation of red, violet, and yellow, was a size too small for Evangeline's shapely derriere, and the hem was well above the knees. Red heels with three-inch spikes and an assortment of rhinestone jewelry completed the ensemble. Her fingers were tipped with long scarlet nails that obviously required an enormous amount of time and effort.

  “How do you do?” Mattie, on her way out to try to find something to replace her much-abused silk blouse and olive slacks, felt rather dowdy. It was a familiar feeling, one she frequently experienced around her sister Ariel. “My name's Mattie. Mattie Sharpe.”

  “Mattie Sharpe, huh? Nice to meet you, Mattie. Been a while since I talked to another working woman. When did you hit the island?”

  “An hour ago. Just got in from Purgatory.”

  “Oh, yeah. I hear all hell is breaking loose over there. Some kind of revolution or something, huh? Don't blame you for leaving. That kind of thing is hard on business. So how long you here for?”

  “Well, I don't know for certain. Hopefully, just a day or so.” Mattie looked down at her stained clothing. “I had to leave all my things behind. I was on my way out just now to buy some fresh clothes.”

  Evangeline was instantly sympathetic as she gave Mattie a swift head-to-toe once-over. “You poor kid. You look like hell. No offense. It must have been real rough over there on Purgatory. I guess you probably need to make a few quick bucks here on Brimstone before you can move on, right?”

  “Well…”

  “No problem, honey. There's plenty to go around tonight. Navy ship in the harbor. We'll both have all the trade we can handle and I don't mind sharing.”

  It dawned on Mattie that she was talking to a professional call girl and that Evangeline assumed that Mattie was in the same business. “That's very generous of you.”

  “Hey, sisters got to stick together, right?” Evangeline smiled brilliantly. “Look, you aren't going to find any good working clothes in the shops around here. Believe me, I know. Brimstone is the backwater to end all backwaters. I have to make my own things or order them from a catalog. Why don't you borrow some of my clothes for tonight?”

  Mattie was fast becoming fascinated. “Do you think they'd fit?”

  Evangeline eyed Mattie's slender figure with a critical eye. “You're a little small on top, but we can work around that. I'm pretty handy with a needle. Why don't you come in? We won't be going to work for another few hours. The boys always like to get a few drinks under their belt first, don't they? Plenty of time to run something up for you.”

  This was rather like falling down the rabbit hole. Mattie wondered what Ariel would say if she knew her prim, conservative sister was being mistaken for a prostitute. Then she wondered what Hugh would say.

  And suddenly she could not wait to find out.

  “That's very kind of you, Evangeline.” Mattie stepped forward. “I can pay you for the clothes.”

  “Forget it. It's worth it just to have another woman to talk to.” Evangeline moved aside to allow Mattie through the door. “That's the thing I miss most out here, you know. Intelligent conversation with another woman. Most of the people I talk to are men, and their conversation tends to be somewhat limited. How about a drink? I make a mean rum punch.”

  “Thank you.” Mattie smiled gratefully as she took in the gaudy room. Everything appeared to have been done in red. Red and gold wallpaper, red velvet curtains, red plush bedspread, red rugs. There were mirrors on the ceiling over the bed and along one wall. “Your room is certainly a lot fancier than mine.”

  “No thanks to the management of this joint.” Evangeline laughed, a rich, throaty sound, as she went over to a small lacquered cabinet and picked up a bottle of rum. “I had to do all the upgrades myself. Took months to get the fabric for the curtains and the spread. This liquor cabinet was a real steal. Got it from a guy who came through on his way to Honolulu with a boatload of stuff he was importing from Singapore.”

  “It's beautiful. You must have spent a fortune on all this decorating.”

  Evangeline shrugged. “I figure it's an investment, you know? You got to put some of the profits back into the business if you want to see an increased return. That's my theory.”

  Mattie nodded, feeling very much on familiar territory all of a sudden. “That's certainly true, isn't it? During my first couple of years I plowed almost my entire income back into my business. I still have to put a lot into it.”

  “Ain't it the truth?” Evangeline opened the door of a tiny refrigerator and removed some ice cubes. They clinked as she tossed them into the two drinks she had just finished mixing. “Here you go. Have a seat while I see what I've got in the closet.”

  Mattie accepted the drink and sat down in a red velvet chair. It was rather like finding oneself in the middle of a play, she thought as she took a cautious swallow of the potent rum-and-fruit-juice mixture. “How long have you been working here on Brimstone?”

  “About four years now. I was in Hawaii for a while and it was okay, but I decided to find myself someplace where the competition wasn't so fierce. Here on Brimstone I'm the only working woman on the island.” Evangeline opened a closet door and stood, one hand on a gracefully cocked hip, and perused the contents. “Let's see what we've got. Ah, here we go. This should suit you just fine.”

  Mattie blinked at the tiny little handful of red lace and satin Evangeline was holding out fo
r inspection. “Is that the slip?” she asked weakly.

  “Hell, no. It's one of my best outfits. I never wear slips, not unless I get some john who's got a thing for underwear. Takes long enough to get in and out of my clothes as it is. Let's see how this looks on you.”

  Mattie took a long swallow of her drink before she rose cautiously to her feet and began unbuttoning her blouse.

  Evangeline made more sympathetic noises when she spotted Mattie's prim little bra and briefs. “You poor kid. You didn't get out of that mess on Purgatory with much, did you?”

  Mattie was embarrassed by her discreet underwear. She thought of the suitcase full of tasteful traveling clothes she had left in the car on Purgatory. “I had to leave all my good things behind,” she explained apologetically.

  “Yeah, I can see that. What a shame. Hope things cool down over there so you can go back and collect your stuff. In our line of work a good wardrobe is essential, isn't it?” Evangeline held out the scrap of shiny red satin. “I made this a month ago and it's hardly been worn. Been saving it for a special occasion. Let's get it on and see what needs to be done. You'd better take off that bra. This dress isn't made to be worn with one.”

  Mattie took another swallow from the glass of rum punch and then did as instructed. No worse than undressing in the ladies' locker room at the health club back home, she told herself. She pulled the red dress down over her head.

  There was no problem getting it as far as her waist, but she had to work a bit to get the sarong-style skirt down over her hips. She turned toward the wall of mirrors and stared at herself in amazement.

  The dress was not much bigger than a bathing suit. It was cut daringly low in front, and the skirt revealed an incredible length of thigh. There was virtually no back to it at all.

  “Not bad,” Evangeline said with a critical nod of satisfaction. “A little loose in front, but we knew that would need some work. And I'll have to take it in a bit around the hips but other than that, it's perfect. You look good in red, Mattie. I'll bet you wear a lot of it.”

 

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