Light in Shadow

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Light in Shadow Page 9

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  Ethan nodded. On the surface he could not see what Zoe and Arcadia had in common, but the emotional tie that bound them together was unmistakable and it worried him.

  He wondered if the connection between the two women was sexual. His instincts told him that it was not, but he did not trust his gut reaction when it came to that kind of thing. Women were a mystery. His instincts might be in denial tonight because all he could think about was having hot, sweaty sex with Zoe.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, Truax. You’re supposed to be a professional.

  Zoe smiled at him. She looked better than she had a few hours ago when she had emerged from the wine cellar, but there was an unnatural brightness in her eyes. He knew what was causing it. She was feeling the aftereffects of the adrenaline, just as he was.

  “Davis was sure that you would never be able to find the bed,” she said. “He claimed that even if you guessed that it was in storage somewhere, there was no way you could find the right rental facility. He said there were hundreds, maybe thousands of them in the state.”

  “Probably are.” Ethan removed the lid of the clay warmer in the center of the table and removed another plump corn tortilla. He dipped it into one of the three salsas that the waiter had brought to the table. They’d finished the salads, but the main courses had not arrived yet and he was ravenous.

  “So?” Zoe prompted.

  “The thing is, I didn’t need to search every storage locker facility in the state.” He took a bite of the tortilla. “I only had to check out the ones that could be reached within about a thirty-minute drive from Desert View. I also assumed that in order to remain as anonymous as possible, Mason would have gone with a large operation that had lots of lockers, not a small outfit where someone was more likely to remember him. That cut the number of possibilities down to a manageable number. I got on the phone and started calling.”

  “Wait a second.” Zoe held up a hand. “How did you know that the storage facility had to be located within a thirty-minute driving radius of Desert View?”

  “I got the pickup and drop-off times of the rented truck that Mason used. I knew almost exactly when he left Desert View with the bed. It wasn’t hard to calculate how far he could have gone, allowing for the time to unload the bed at the locker facility.”

  He paused to take another bite of the salsa-laced tortilla and noticed that the business dinner on the other side of the room was breaking up. At the head of the table, the big, sandy-haired man in the expensive linen blend jacket picked up the tab for the other five people with an easy flourish.

  It was nice to have a large budget for entertaining clients, Ethan thought. He turned his attention back to his own client and her companion.

  Zoe gave him an admiring look. “I’m impressed. You make it sound so simple and logical. The mind of a detective is an amazing thing.”

  “Thanks,” Ethan said. “I’ve always wanted to be loved for my mind.”

  Damn. That was not quite what he had wanted to say, he thought. Maybe he had better lay off the champagne. It did not seem to be mixing well with the aftermath of the adrenaline cocktail that still flowed through his system.

  Arcadia looked faintly amused, but she did not say anything. If Zoe found the crack about being loved for his brain inappropriate, she gave no indication.

  “I’m still a little confused though,” she said, serious again. “How did you figure out which truck rental company Mason used and how did you find out precisely when he left Desert View?”

  Ethan started to answer, but he broke off when the big man in the stylish jacket suddenly loomed over the table.

  “Truax.” Nelson Radnor gave him an easy grin. “Good to see you. I hear you closed a big one today. Congratulations.”

  “Word travels fast,” Ethan said.

  “I’ve got my sources.” Nelson examined the bandage that covered a portion of Ethan’s jaw and raised his brows. “Looks like you got knocked around a little.”

  “Just some flying glass.” Ethan glanced across the table. “Zoe Luce, Arcadia Ames. This is Nelson Radnor.”

  Zoe made the connection immediately. “Radnor Security Systems?”

  Nelson gave her an approving smile. “Right. A pleasure. I understand there was a woman at the scene this afternoon when Truax took Mason down. Can I assume it was one of you two lovely ladies?”

  “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t make any assumptions,” Ethan said evenly. “My client would like to keep a low profile in this matter.”

  “No problem.” Nelson switched his attention to Arcadia. “Truax is a lucky man to be enjoying such charming companionship tonight. Got a hunch he’s having a lot more fun than I did.”

  The best that could be said for Arcadia’s smile, Ethan thought, was that it was polite. There certainly wasn’t much warmth in it. Not that Radnor seemed to notice.

  Ethan angled his head toward the small group of people making their way toward the front door. “Client dinner?”

  “Yeah. Routine.” Nelson cast a quick, satisfied glance at the departing members of his dinner party. “The manager and some of his people from Las Estrellas.”

  “The new resort outside of town?” Zoe asked.

  Nelson nodded. “Looks like Radnor will be handling security for them.”

  “Congratulations,” Ethan said. “Nice contract.”

  “Thanks. You know, I may give you a call one of these days, Truax. We’re running at full steam over at Radnor. Might be able to throw a little of the small stuff your way. You interested in some subcontracting work?”

  “Depends,” Ethan said carefully.

  “I’ll be in touch.” Nelson appeared to realize that he had overstayed his welcome. He nodded at Zoe and Arcadia, his gaze lingering an extra second or so on Arcadia, and then he moved back a pace. “I’ll let you folks get on with your dinner. See you around, Truax.”

  He walked off toward the door of the restaurant.

  “I call him my competition,” Ethan said. “But the truth is, we’re not even playing in the same league.”

  “Maybe not.” Zoe sounded amused. “But if I had to guess, I’d say he’s jealous.”

  “Of the fact that I get to have dinner with you two instead of those folks from Las Estrellas?” Ethan nodded. “As well he should be.”

  Zoe shook her head. “He’s not jealous because you’re eating dinner with us. It’s because of what you did today.”

  “She’s right.” Arcadia said with quiet certainty. “Radnor might be the big-time operator here in town when it comes to the security business, but his position as the CEO of a large corporation means he’ll probably never have an opportunity to play the heroic private investigator who comes to the rescue in the nick of time the way you did today.”

  Zoe chuckled. “Probably not much opportunity for swashbuckling when you’re in the business of doing routine employee background checks and supplying guards for places like Desert View and Las Estrellas.”

  “Got news for you,” Ethan said. “My swash nearly buckled permanently today when I realized you were in that house alone with Mason. Talk about stressing out on the job. Thank God you had the presence of mind to get into that fancy cooler.”

  “It’s not a cooler. It’s a state-of-the-art wine cellar complete with its own refrigeration and humidity control systems.” She spoke very evenly. “The room was designed to be physically secure because the Taylors collect extremely valuable old vintages.”

  “And another thing,” he continued, getting into it now. “You should have stayed inside that state-of-the-art cooler until the coast was clear.”

  She said nothing.

  Arcadia stiffened. “I hadn’t,” she said slowly, “thought about the size of the wine cellar.” She broke off and gave Zoe a sharp, searching look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes,” Zoe said firmly. “It was just a room, Arcadia. I can only thank heaven it was available when I needed it.”

  Arcadia’s mouth tigh
tened. “Have some more champagne.”

  She did not wait for a response. Hauling the bottle out of the ice bucket, she refilled Zoe’s glass.

  Ethan watched the two women in silence. I’m definitely missing something here. It wouldn’t be the first time, of course, but he had a feeling this was something important, something he needed to know.

  Zoe looked at Ethan. “I believe you were about to tell us how you came to learn so many of the details about the timing of Mason’s movements the day he rented the truck.”

  “Yes.” Arcadia watched him with a speculative expression. “Finish your story. How did you come by all those facts and figures?”

  “Radnor’s a cheap employer,” Ethan said. “He charges the Desert View Community Association a lot of money to supply security guards, but he doesn’t pay his men very well.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened. “You bribed one of the Desert View guards to let you look at the gate logs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The straightforward approach. I like that,” Arcadia stated.

  “So elegantly simple. Why didn’t I think of that?” Zoe marveled.

  “Probably because you are not a trained detective,” Ethan said.

  “That must be it,” she agreed. “How much does it cost to bribe a Radnor security guard?”

  “You’ll find out when you get my bill. That bribe, as well as the one I used to get the attendant at the storage facility to look the other way while I opened Mason’s locker, will be listed under miscellaneous expenses.”

  Outside the restaurant, the desert night felt good but it did nothing to dispel Zoe’s strange mood. She wondered if she had drunk too much champagne. Arcadia had refilled her glass several times. She knew why her friend was deliberately trying to get her a little drunk. Arcadia was worried about the time in the wine cellar. A small room with a locked door.

  As Arcadia suspected, the experience had brought back a lot of unpleasant memories that tonight might well trigger a few bad dreams about her time in Xanadu. But it was not as if there had been a lot of options this afternoon. The wine cellar had kept her safe until Ethan had arrived. That was the important thing.

  Too bad there had been no Ethan Truax to come to the rescue at Xanadu. She and Arcadia had been forced to find their own way out of that nightmare.

  She watched Ethan from the corner of her eye as he walked beside her toward the car. His hair gleamed darkly in the light of the street lamps. His face was in shadow. He moved through the night with an easy confidence, relaxed but aware of his surroundings. She had the feeling that the trick was a habit that came naturally to him.

  The three of them got into Ethan’s SUV. Arcadia gave directions to her condo. When they arrived, Zoe and Ethan walked her to her door.

  She paused in the white carpeted hall to look searchingly at Zoe one last time.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay alone tonight?” she asked. “You’re welcome to stay here. You know that.”

  “Thanks, I’ll be okay.” That was a lie. It was going to be a bad night. But there was nothing anyone could do about the nightmares. She had to deal with them on her own. “Don’t worry about me. If I can’t get to sleep, I’ll spend the time thinking up ways to explain to the Taylors why their antique Spanish chest has bullet holes in it.”

  “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Arcadia looked at Ethan. “You probably need rest, too.”

  “Probably,” he said, not sounding overly concerned.

  Arcadia closed the door. Zoe heard her slide the heavy bolt into place. It was followed by the muffled clink of a chain.

  Ethan glanced back at the door as he and Zoe turned to go down the stairs. “Sounds like your friend takes security seriously.”

  “We both do. A woman can’t be too careful.”

  “Yeah, you did sort of prove that today, didn’t you?”

  The too-neutral, give-nothing-away tone was back in his voice, she noticed. He was in an edgy, unpredictable mood, just as she was, but she did not have a clue to what he was thinking. She reminded herself that he had been through a very traumatic experience that afternoon.

  Outside on the street, they got back into his vehicle. The interior seemed a good deal smaller and the atmosphere far more intimate than it had a few minutes ago when there had been three of them.

  She was very conscious of Ethan sitting so close. He was not one of those beefy men like Nelson Radnor who looked as if he’d played football in college and who always seemed to crowd a woman. Nevertheless, Ethan somehow managed to take up more than his share of the available space. His nearness did things to her nerve endings, unfamiliar things, things she could not remember experiencing before around a man, not even in her other life.

  She wondered if she was suffering some form of delayed shock.

  He drove the short distance to the two-story building that housed her apartment and parked in the lot.

  Without a word, he got out of the car and opened the door on the passenger side. She knew what he was probably thinking. Ace detective that he was, he could not help but notice that the Casa de Oro Apartments did not exactly live up to its grand-sounding name. But while the place was no house of gold and although it was considerably more down-market than Arcadia’s luxury condo, it was everything it had claimed to be in the newspaper ad she had answered: clean, quiet, and, most important of all, affordable.

  Clutching her tote, she extricated herself from the close confines of the interior and walked with him to the green wrought-iron gate.

  It was late, she realized, reaching into her tote for the heavy key ring, almost midnight. It was strange to think that, after all she and Ethan had been through together today, she hardly knew him. Yet here he was, taking her home. She wondered what he would say if she informed him that he was the first man to get this close to her front door since she had moved to Whispering Springs.

  Then again maybe he would not be interested in that small factoid. Probably just hand her his itemized bill and ask her when it would be convenient for her to take a look at the room he wanted her to design.

  “Here, I’ll do that for you.” Ethan took the key chain from her hand and muttered something beneath his breath when he felt the heft of it. Holding it up to the light, he examined the large metal ball attached to the ring. “Why don’t you just get yourself a nice rock if you want to add a little extra weight to your purse?”

  “It’s an antique doorknob. I found it in an old residence I redid a few months ago. I took it to a local craftsman who works in metal and had him attach the key ring to it.”

  “I can see that it’s a big old doorknob.” He twisted the key in the gate lock. “What I don’t understand is why you’re using it for a key ring. Some kind of design statement?”

  She gave him a cool smile. “It’s big enough that I can find it easily in my tote.”

  “Uh-huh.” He did not look impressed with her explanation. “You sure as hell don’t want to drop it accidentally on your big toe. You’ll limp for a week.”

  “I’m careful.” She slipped quickly through the gate and led the way along the walk to the door that opened onto the small lobby. He followed, carrying the brass doorknob in his hand.

  “It’s the long, silver key,” she said.

  He opened the door and stood aside. She moved into the lobby and stopped, locked up with indecision. Should she say good night here or allow him to see her to the door of her apartment? Did one offer a cup of coffee to a man who had arguably saved one’s life?

  Another chill of awareness went through her at the thought of taking him upstairs to her apartment. This was a no-brainer. Clearly the smart thing to do was to bid him good night here in the lobby. So why was she dithering?

  Ethan studied her with an assessing expression. “You sure you’re okay? You don’t look good.”

  “Thanks. You really know how to flatter the client, don’t you?”

  “Think of it as a professional observation.”

  “I’m st
ill feeling a little jumpy, that’s all. I told Arcadia that I’m exhausted, and that’s true as far as it goes. But I’m all revved up inside. I feel like I’ll never sleep again.”

  “You overdosed on adrenaline today,” he said. “We both did. Too much of that stuff does a real number on your nervous system. Takes a while to get past the jag.”

  “I know,” she said automatically, not stopping to think.

  “Been through it before, huh?”

  That had been dumb, she thought. It occurred to her that, between the events of the day and the champagne, her defenses were dangerously low. She had better get upstairs to her apartment before she said anything else equally stupid.

  “I’ve heard about the syndrome,” she said smoothly. “Sounds like you’ve experienced it personally.”

  “Once or twice. Goes with the job, occasionally.” He looked at the stairwell. “I’m betting you’re upstairs.”

  “Yes.” This was the moment when she should thank him once again for coming to her rescue and say good night. But the words seemed to have gotten stuck in her throat.

  He gave her another critical survey and then grasped her elbow in a firm grip. “I’d better see you to your door. I don’t think you should be wandering around loose in your present condition.”

  “I’m all right, really.” She clung to her tote as if it were a flotation device and she was about to jump into some very deep water. “You’re the one who got the worst of it today.”

  But she did not resist when he steered her up the staircase. She could feel the power in the hand wrapped around her arm. If he were to tighten his grip fractionally, she knew she would be unable to escape. But she also sensed the control that seemed to be so much a part of him. The combination of strength and self-discipline was disconcertingly sensual.

  Maybe it was just this strange mood she was in tonight. She reminded herself for what was probably the two-hundredth time that he was not her type.

  At the landing Ethan paused to study the doors that lined the hall. “Which one?”

  “The corner apartment.”

 

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