Kylie turned to see a flashy redhead in a snug, green polyester pantsuit walking toward them. She wore too much makeup and held a cigarette in one hand, oblivious to the No Smoking signs posted on the walls. But even more disturbing than the cigarette was the ring on her left hand. With a diamond the size of a basketball.
The redhead stopped at their table, her thin lips curved into a lascivious smile as she ogled Dexter. "Hi, honey. You're looking better than ever."
Dexter stood up. "You must be Delores."
"Smart as ever," she replied, sidling into the booth next to him.
Kylie couldn't wait to blast this woman out of the water. Delores couldn't be married to Harry Hanover because she didn't even realize that Dexter wasn't the real Harry. Her anxiety dissolved and she flashed Dexter a reassuring smile.
"Anybody want a beer?" Delores asked, hailing the waitress.
"No, thank you," Kylie asked, then got right to the point. "How exactly did you and Harry meet?"
Delores placed her order with the waitress, then turned to answer Kylie's question. "It was love at first sight. I brought my car into his repair shop for a tune-up." She took a long drag from her cigarette. "The rest, as they say, is history."
Kylie smiled. "It sounds more like fiction to me."
Delores returned her smile, looking as confident as ever. "It was like a storybook romance. We dated for three weeks, then eloped to Reno and were married at the Ding Dong Wedding Chapel by an Elvis impersonator. He sang the most beautiful rendition of Love Me Tender.'"
Dexter pushed away his pie plate. "Maybe we should talk about your letter."
Delores leaned back, both arms outstretched across the top of the booth. "To tell you the truth, I didn't expect to hear from you so quickly. Although, the sooner we can come to some kind of arrangement, the better off we'll all be."
He frowned. "You do realize this arrangement you're talking about is blackmail. And that it's a felony."
Delores looked at Kylie, chuckling under her breath. "Harry knows all about felonies. Automobile repair and romance aren't his only areas of expertise."
Time to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.
Kylie leaned forward. "We're calling your bluff, Delores. We all know you were never married to Harry."
"No," Delores said calmly. "What we all know is that this man isn't really Harry Hanover."
Kylie blinked, panic welling inside of her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do." She took another long drag from her cigarette, then blew a stream of smoke in the air above her. "I told you I was married to Harry, but I never said this hunk was the same man. I'll admit he's a lot sexier, but he's not the real Harry Hanover. I knew it didn't sound like Harry on the radio, but I had to see him in person to be sure."
"That's quite an accusation. Can you prove it?"
Kylie wished she'd listened to Dexter and never agreed to meet this woman. She felt as if the faded linoleum floor was shifting underneath her feet.
"I've got wedding pictures and a marriage license. I've also got a signed copy of Harry's first book, Spark Plugs and You. I'm sure a handwriting expert would be happy to compare the signatures."
Dexter cleared his throat. "I don't think that will be necessary."
Delores turned and waggled her red eyebrows at him. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure we can come up with an arrangement that is mutually satisfying."
"What do you want?" Kylie asked baldly.
Delores took another long drag on her cigarette. "Ten thousand dollars."
Kylie's jaw dropped. "That's outrageous!"
Delores blew a lungful of smoke at her. "That's peanuts compared to what you're hauling in on this book. Look, I don't know if you're just using Harry's name because he's got a following from all his car books, or if that sly snake is behind this masquerade. The real Harry Hanover left me high and dry five years ago. So I'm not about to sit back and watch this gravy train pass me by."
Kylie looked at Dexter. "I think we should leave."
The woman gave a careless shrug. "Hey, if you don't want to pay me, I'm sure some tabloid will. I'll just sell my story to the highest bidder."
"Please don't be hasty," Dexter said. "I'm sure we can come up with something. It just might take awhile."
Kylie saw no sympathy in Delores's cold green eyes. "I don't have ten thousand dollars just lying around."
A muscle flexed in Dexter's jaw. "I do."
Kylie followed Dexter into a Youngstown branch of the Wells Fargo Bank. "This is crazy. You can't give that woman your money."
"What choice do we have?" he said, approaching the front counter. "If we don't pay her, she'll go to the tabloids."
The teller behind it gave him a quick once-over, her mouth curving into a flirtatious smile. "May I help you?"
"I'd like a money order, please," he said, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out a card with his account number on it and slid it across the counter. "Make it out for ten thousand dollars to Delores Hanover."
She watched in disbelief as the teller began filling out the form.
"Dexter, what are you doing?"
He turned to look at her. "I can't afford to lose this job."
"That doesn't make any sense. Ten thousand dollars is a lot more money than you'll be paid for this job."
He turned back toward the counter. "It's worth it to me."
She stared at him, more confused than ever. Was it possible he was doing it for her? "This won't do any good, Harry. Delores won't stop here. She'll eventually want more money."
"All we need to do is hold her off for a few more days. Then it will all be over."
She took a step closer to him. "I can't let you do this."
"Here you go, sir." The teller handed the money order to Dexter. "The ten thousand dollars has been deducted from your primary account."
"Thank you." Then he turned to Kylie. "It's already done."
"Dexter…"
He clasped her elbow and pulled her to a secluded area of the foyer. "Please let me do this, Kylie. Don't you think it will be worth it to save Handy Press?"
So he was doing it for her. Kylie's heart melted. "I don't know what to say."
He leaned closer to her. "Don't say anything. And don't thank me. I have my own selfish reasons for wanting to keep Delores quiet."
"Reasons you care to share?"
He hesitated, then reached out and trailed his knuckle over her cheek. "Maybe someday."
Kylie knew she should push him for answers. But part of her was so relieved to know the Delores problem was solved, at least temporarily, that she let it go. Besides, if the sales of How To Jump-Start Your Love Life continued to soar, Handy Press should be able to easily reimburse Dexter. That comforting thought took the edge off of her guilt. But another thought still niggled at her.
"What if Delores isn't the only one?" she ventured.
Dexter's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, what if Harry has been holding out on us. Could there be more than one ex-wife waiting in the wings, ready to sell her story to the highest bidder?"
"I suppose it's possible."
She reached up and rubbed her temple with her fingertips. The smoke from Delores's cigarette had given her a headache. "I'm going to call Harry again."
Dexter leaned against the white brick interior wall of the bank as she dialed the number on her cellular phone. She got a recorded message saying the number had been disconnected.
"No answer?"
"No," she said. "The number's been disconnected."
"Maybe he moved."
She shook her head. "This doesn't make sense. He's a hermit. He's been shut up in that house for the last six years."
"According to Delores, he was in Reno, Nevada, five years ago."
"But why would he lie about something like that?" Kylie's head began to pound. "Maybe Delores is the one lying. Maybe Harry's telephone is disconnected because he forgot to pay his bi
ll."
"Money shouldn't be a problem with the sales of How To Jump-Start Your Love Life going through the roof."
"Except that Hanover Press pays royalties quarterly. He won't receive a check for two more weeks." She nibbled her lower lip as another, more ominous possibility occurred to her. "I hope he's all right. He does live all by himself in a fairly remote area."
"How remote?"
"A cabin in a wooded area in the foothills of the Alleghenies. About an hour east of Altoona."
"Which would only make it about a three-hour drive from here."
She looked up at him, wishing she'd thought of the idea first. "We don't have any book signings scheduled for tomorrow. And we're not due in Altoona until noon on Friday."
"A break might do us both good." He reached out one finger and gently traced her cheekbone. "You've got circles under your eyes."
Is that why you didn't want to sleep with me? But Kylie didn't say it out loud. It was a question she couldn't ask him without looking like a fool. Her skin tingled as his finger gently stroked her face. Then she took a step away from him, determined not to fall under his spell once more.
"Then it's settled," she said. "We're off to the Alleghenies to find Harry."
Dexter nodded. "To find the truth."
* * *
12
« ^ »
Dexter peered out the window, his brow furrowed. They'd been driving nonstop for the last five hours. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"
"Positive," Kylie said, checking the gas gauge. It was hovering perilously close to the danger zone. "I had a map last time I came out here, but I know his cabin is on this road somewhere."
The car hit a deep rut in the graveled surface, causing Dexter to bounce up and graze his head on the roof. "Are you sure this is a road?"
"Pretty sure," Kylie said, leaning over the steering wheel. The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows from the numerous fir trees bracketing both sides of the narrow road.
Dexter peered through the trees on his right. "What does his house look like?"
"It's more of a log cabin, really. With a big front porch." She steered around another sinkhole in the road. "And a big dog."
"Is the dog a Doberman pinscher?"
"How did you know?" she asked, turning toward him.
He hitched his thumb toward the window. "Because it's right over there."
She slammed on the brakes, causing Dexter to brace both hands against the dashboard.
"Finally," she cried, a note of triumph in her voice. "I knew I could find it."
They both climbed out of the car and were greeted by a low, menacing growl.
Dexter hesitated. "The dog doesn't look too happy to see us."
"Eugene is a real sweetie," Kylie said, marching through the brush toward the cabin. "He won't bite."
Dexter reluctantly followed her, hoping she knew more about Harry's dog than she knew about the man himself. Eugene's bared white teeth gleamed in the fading twilight as he watched them approach.
"Hello, Eugene," Kylie said, reaching out to ruffle the dog's thick fur coat. "How's my favorite puppy?"
Eugene's wet tongue lapped her forearm. Kylie turned to Dexter with a grin. "See, he likes me."
Dexter smiled and started forward, until the big dog whirled on him and began growling again. "I don't think Eugene likes me."
Kylie grabbed hold of the dog's thick leather collar. "I'll hang on to him until you're safely inside. If you can get inside, that is. Harry is a little … shy about receiving visitors."
Dexter didn't need any further encouragement, much more willing to face whatever obstacles Harry put in his way than Eugene's sharp fangs. He wheeled and headed up the porch steps toward the door. Venetian blinds completely concealed both windows and no sound emanated from inside the cabin.
He knocked once, then three times, his ear cocked toward the door for the sound of footsteps. Nothing. No movement, no blare from a television set or a radio. He turned back toward Kylie. "I don't think he's home."
"He has to be," she replied, scratching Eugene behind the ears. The dog had his eyes closed, ignoring Dexter now to enjoy the bliss of the moment. "Harry's agoraphobic. He never leaves his house."
Dexter turned back toward the door and tried the knob. To his surprise it wasn't locked. He let the door swing wide open, revealing a modest but neatly arranged living room. A blue-striped sofa and matching armchairs formed a cozy seating arrangement in front of a cold hearth. A small, portable television set sat propped on an old cream can. The bookcase on the east wall only had one shelf filled, all books authored by Harry Hanover. The rest of the shelves were empty but free of dust. Harry might be an eccentric hermit, but he was a neat eccentric hermit.
Kylie had left the dog and followed Dexter inside. She looked around the empty living room, her brow furrowed. "Harry?"
Her call went unanswered. She turned to Dexter. "Something's not right."
He walked toward the kitchen. It was empty, too. The old refrigerator hummed in one corner, but all the shades were pulled, shrouding it in darkness. "Looks to me like Harry made a full recovery and decided to go on vacation."
Kylie walked up behind him. "But why would he leave Eugene here alone?"
"Maybe he hired a neighbor to come over and feed and water him."
She shook her head. "You saw how few houses there were on the way up here. The nearest neighbor has to be at least three miles away." Slowly spinning on her heel, she looked around the small cabin. "I wonder if he ever gets lonely all by himself up here."
"A man can be lonely anywhere," Dexter replied. "Even in a city of over three hundred thousand people."
She nodded. "Hollywood was one of the loneliest places I've ever known."
He turned to face her, suddenly struck by how easy it was to talk to Kylie. It was an odd revelation at an even odder moment, but it suddenly occurred to him how comfortable he felt around her. That was not normal for Dexter Kane. He'd always been stiff and tongue-tied around women. Especially when it was a woman he admired. Always saying the wrong thing at the wrong moment.
Only ten more days. Then I'll never see her again. That thought created an ache deep inside his chest. Even the knowledge that his dream of owning the Kane Corporation would come true in eleven days didn't ease it.
But perhaps he could see Kylie again. They both lived in Pittsburgh after all. They could meet for lunch. Or even date. Once he had the business firmly in his control, he'd be free to pay more attention to his social life. Although, running a multimillion dollar corporation rarely left a man with much free time on his hands. And there would be more chaos than usual with the change of ownership.
Even worse, he'd have to find some way to explain to Kylie how a gigolo could suddenly become owner and CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Which meant telling her he'd been deceiving her from the moment they'd met.
And she'd already made it perfectly clear how she felt about men who put their own interests first.
Kylie stared up at him. "Is something wrong?"
Everything. "No. Why?"
"You have a strange look on your face."
The sound of glass shattering forestalled his reply. They both bolted into the living room, then Kylie pointed toward a closed door. "I think it came from in there."
Dexter pulled her behind him. "Let me go first."
She didn't argue, but kept her hand wrapped around Dexter's arm as he slowly turned the doorknob. The door creaked open to reveal a man tied to chair. Masking tape covered his mouth. His wrists were bound together behind him, secured with the tape. Masking tape also secured each ankle to the front legs of the chair. Shards of glass covered the floor around him.
"Evan!" Kylie catapulted around Dexter, but he grabbed her before she could go to her brother.
"Wait," he commanded. "There's glass everywhere."
Evan blinked at them, relief shining in his eyes.
"Are you all right?" Kylie cried.
Dexter grabbed a thick woven throw rug off the floor and tossed it on top of the splintered glass. Then he stood back while Kylie ran to her brother.
"This is going to hurt," she said, carefully peeling one corner of the tape off his cheek.
"Do it fast," Dexter advised. "It will hurt a lot more if you take your time."
She took a deep breath, then ripped the tape off of his mouth.
"Ouch," Evan exclaimed.
"Sorry," she murmured, now working to free his hands.
"It's all right," Evan assured her. "It's not as bad as that time you dropped a bowling ball on my foot."
Dexter retrieved a Swiss Army knife from his jeans pocket and carefully sliced through the thick layers of tape binding his ankles to the chair.
"How do you feel?" Kylie asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
"Stupid." Evan reached up to rub the red, irritated area around his mouth.
"What happened?" Dexter asked.
Evan looked up at him. "And you are?"
"Dexter Kane." He held out his hand. "Also known as Harry Hanover."
Evan rose unsteadily to his feet. He had Kylie's dark hair and eyes, as well as her upturned nose. But he was unnaturally thin for a man of his height. No doubt a residual effect of his illness. "So you're the guy who's been romancing my sister."
His grip was strong, despite his apparent frailty.
"It was just a publicity ploy," Kylie assured her brother, reaching up to gently brush an unruly lock of hair off of Evan's broad forehead.
Dexter watched her, wondering if she still really felt that way. It had become much more than a ploy to him. Especially after that last intimate encounter in his hotel room. What if he hadn't stopped? Would she still act so nonchalant about their relationship.
"Just a publicity ploy," Evan echoed, his gaze flicking from his sister to Dexter and back again. His tone made it obvious that he wasn't buying it. "Right."
A blush rose to Kylie's cheeks. "Look, we can talk about all that later. I want to know what happened to you. And Where's Harry? Is he all right?"
Evan snorted. "Harry's long gone by now. And he's the one who did this to me."
OPERATION BABE-MAGNET / OPERATION BEAUTY Page 10