The Art of Hiding

by Kathleen Grace

  She walked to Peter’s room, turning the doorknob gently. She was certain she hadn’t heard him return last night, but still, entering his room filled her with trepidation. The familiar scent of his spicy cologne met her as she entered his room, making her chest warm. His room was very neat and tidy, and her glance fell to the bed, heat stealing into her face. She lifted her chin and scanned the area, noticing a lap top on the nightstand.

  “Bingo,” she said softly.

  She rushed over to it, opening it and flicking the power switch. Drumming her fingers impatiently, she waited as the computer went through its boot up process. She breathed a sigh of relief when the desktop came up. Miraculously, Peter hadn’t put a password in place.

  “Very sloppy for a big shot journalist, Peter,” she murmured, navigating to the files stored on the hard drive.

  She searched through his folders, keeping one ear peeled for the sound of his car. She couldn’t find anything with her name on it. Next she checked through his e-mails, catching her breath when she noticed one with her birth name, Gina Martin. The date was around the time he’d first arrived. She clicked on it, reading the words aloud.

  Ken, I’ve found myself in an unbelievable situation. I’ve not only discovered evidence that Gina Hughes is alive. I’ve found myself in an incredible position to acquire personal information. More later, Peter.

  Her trembling fingers continued scrolling. They struck pay dirt once again.

  Ken, Sorry about the delay. Having reservations about the subject. Need to talk to you on the phone. I’ll be in touch tonight, Peter.

  The last entry was dated around the time of the boat accident. What reservations had he been having? What was it he had said that night in the kitchen when she’d pushed him to talk about his work? He’d said he was conflicted. He was too close to the subject matter. He couldn’t be objective.

  Her determination faltered. Had she judged him too harshly? If he couldn’t be objective about her, did that mean he had feelings for her? She clenched her jaw and fought off the feelings of doubt. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by romantic notions. This was a man who had come here to trick her. He’d made this trip merely to use her and her friends for information. And he hadn’t cared how he got that info either. After all, Constance had tried to seduce Stephen and bribe him, all because she was following Peter’s orders.

  She closed the computer, frustrated that she had no idea where he stored all his information on her. She opened the drawer to the nightstand, searching for anything that looked like a manuscript. When she heard the sound of Peter’s car, she quickly slammed the drawer shut, and hurried out of his room.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs as she slipped into her own room. She stood against the door, holding her breath and just listening. She heard him come in the house, and walk past her room to his own, closing the door behind him. Then the door to his room opened quickly, and he went into the bathroom. The sounds of the shower filled her with relief, and she slumped against the door.

  She left her room, and grabbing her purse off the counter, she raced out of the house to her car. She wasn’t strong enough to face him right now. She was happy that he’d come home because that meant he wasn’t with Constance, but it disgusted her that she even cared where he’d been.

  She had to get out of the house. She needed to do some shopping for paint supplies anyway, so this was the perfect opportunity. Her fingers gripped the wheel until her knuckles turned white. She gave a nervous laugh, and relaxed her fingers, trying to concentrate on the scenic highway that led toward town. The ocean looked like glass, and the sky was a brilliant blue, verging on almost cheerful. The complete opposite of how she felt.

  So far all she’d accomplished was to hurt Peter’s male pride. She hadn’t found anything useful in his personal belongings to stop the book. Maybe it really was too late. Perhaps at this very moment, thousands of copies were being printed.

  She’d probably have to move again. She’d never feel safe here again if the book was released. Not while knowing that Robert would have a perfect road map to find her. She shuddered, remembering how he’d often said if she ever left him he’d kill her. She’d believed him then, and she believed he would be true to his word now, given the opportunity.

  Once she made it to town, she did her shopping slowly, stalling the inevitable moment when she would have to return home. Finally she had no choice but to go through the checkout line. If she didn’t, the store personnel would probably have her arrested for loitering.

  She packed the supplies in her car, slamming the trunk lid firmly. She was about to climb into her car, when she saw Constance crossing the street, heading straight for her.

  Kelly eyed the woman warily as she approached. Constance did her best to smile, although it was obviously a strain.

  “I wonder if I might have a word with you Miss. Martin,” she purred. Her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, and her black hair gleamed in the bright sunshine.

  “I can’t imagine what we have to talk about.” Kelly had never liked the woman, but now knowing what she had come here to do, Kelly literally detested her.

  Constance held out a smooth, beautifully manicured hand. “I realize I’ve behaved poorly in the past, but please, let’s start all over again.” Kelly hesitated, and then gingerly took Constance’s hand in her own. The woman lifted her glasses to show her curious gaze. “Do you have time for a drink? I’m buying.”

  Kelly cleared her throat. “Actually, I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Constance’s lovely mouth drooped in a pout. “Oh, come on, just a quick one.” She pointed to a small bar and grill right behind Kelly’s car. “It won’t take that long. I ah… have some information you may be interested in.”

  Kelly wanted nothing more than to leave Constance standing there with mud on her face, but her curiosity was piqued. She’d sworn Stephen to silence. Had he blown it already? Did Constance know Kelly knew the reason for Peter and her being in town?

  “Alright, but it will have to be quick.”

  All heads turned as Constance walked into the grill. She carried herself like a queen, studiously ignoring her subject’s adoration. They chose a quiet booth in the back. The waiter came over quickly to serve them, and they both ordered cabernet.

  Constance clasped her hands together and set her bold gaze on Kelly. “Now, I wanted Stephen to talk to you, but I don’t think he has the nerve.” She smiled.

  “If there is one thing Stephen has, its nerve,” Kelly said pointedly.

  Constance smiled slyly. “Well not where you’re concerned dear. He may be weak, but he really does care about you.”

  “I hope you’re not here to plead his case to me?” Kelly grimaced and took a sip of her drink.

  “Hardly. No, I want you to talk Peter into giving me my job back.” Her look was direct.

  “What? Look, I had nothing to do with you losing your job.” She noticed Constance’s doubtful expression. “I swear to you, I didn’t even know you’d been fired until Stephen told me yesterday.” She winced when she let her meeting with Stephen slip.

  Constance’s eyes narrowed. “You saw Stephen yesterday? He didn’t mention it.”

  “Well, I doubt that it was the highlight of his day.” Kelly tried to sound casual.

  “What exactly did you get together to talk about?” If Kelly hadn’t known better, she would have sworn there was a hint of jealousy in the question.

  She lowered her soft lashes. “He just wanted to make sure I was alright, after the boating incident.”

  “Oh, I see.” Constance took a quick sip of her drink.

  “I don’t imagine I have any pull to get you your position back. I’m afraid that will have to be between you and Peter.”

  Constance seemed to mull her comment. “Well, there goes that then.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’ll bet.” Constance snorted.

  Kelly’s face warmed at her sarcastic tone. �
��I thought you said you had information for me?”

  Constance raised her perfect eyebrows and gave an almost sheepish smile. “Did I say that? Well, I had to get you to talk to me somehow. You seemed less than thrilled at the idea of a drink with me.”

  “Well, like I said, I have no power over Peter. I just room with him.”

  Constance gave a bark of a laugh. “Please, honey. You may not like me, but don’t treat me like I’m dumb. You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger.”

  Kelly grimaced. “I’ve got him what?”

  “You’ve got him so tied up in knots he can’t write—” She stopped herself suddenly, her face clouded with uneasiness. “He doesn’t know which end is up.” She finished lamely.

  “You must be joking. I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but you should check out your sources more carefully,” Kelly said wryly. What was Constance up too? Well at least Kelly had found out what she needed. So far Stephen had kept his promise of silence. Probably not for much longer, now that Constance would go to work on him.

  “Well I really have to go.” She stood up gracefully, conscious of the other woman’s scrutiny. “Thanks for the drink.”

  The other woman nodded thoughtfully, but gave no verbal response.

  Once in her car, Kelly breathed a sigh of relief. Her nerves were raw. She felt powerless to stop Peter, and her attempts at finding his research had not exactly been successful. She was still angry that he’d dare to come into her life and butt into her personal business, just so he could sell books.

  Well, if nothing else, she’d made him feel lousy last night. If that was the only power she had over the situation, then fine. She would rake his male ego over the coals at every opportunity. He would feel as used and humiliated as she did, she would make sure of that. Hopefully he’d get tired of it and leave the cottage. She could only hope.

  She pulled up in the drive, noticing Peter’s car was still there. She swallowed nervously, gathering up her paints and blank canvas’s. Then she carried them into the house, her heart beating swiftly.

  Once inside the cottage, there was no sign of him. She assumed he was in his room, and relief washed through her.

  She made two trips to the car, and then spent about a half hour putting away the items she’d bought. She hadn’t eaten and frankly didn’t feel like forcing herself to eat. But she knew starving herself wouldn’t make things better. She decided to make a salad since that wouldn’t be too heavy of a meal. She washed the lettuce and sliced tomatoes, all the while listening for sounds of Peter.

  She jumped when the back door opened and he came in. She’d assumed he was in his room, but judging by his appearance, he’d probably been swimming in the ocean. His hair was wet, and he had on only a pair of shorts. He looked good enough to eat, with his bare, muscled chest and lean, tanned legs.

  Tearing her eyes away from his body, she met his cold gaze. “Hello”

  Drops of moisture clung to his forehead, and he reached up to brush them away. “You’re back,” he said without emotion.

  “I needed some things at the store.” Speaking normally was a strain.

  “Is that right?” His tone was impersonal, disinterested. She wasn’t used to him being like that with her. Gone was the warm smile he’d usually greeted her with.

  Kelly turned her back on him to continue making her salad, and the awkward silence stretched.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need a shower.” He moved with easy grace toward his room. Kelly hated herself for watching him as he left the room, but it was hard to pull her eyes away. She couldn’t deny the spark of excitement she felt at seeing him again. Why did he have to have this power over her?

  She ate her salad, tasting nothing. The cottage had never seemed so lonely. She’d lived here for years alone and never thought twice about it. But now the little house seemed still and lifeless. She got up and scraped the rest of her lettuce in the trash, it was useless to pretend she would finish. She had no appetite.

  She knew it would be wise to do some painting since she was behind, but she had no inspiration at the moment. She decided to give Gayle a call, to keep her up to date. She dialed her friend’s number, and once Gayle answered, she tried to keep her voice hushed.

  “Kelly, what’s up?” Gayle’s tone was pointed.

  “No hello, how are you?” She smiled weakly.

  “I don’t think I have the patience for chit chat. There’s way too much drama surrounding you lately.”

  Kelly winced. “Fair enough.”

  “So what’s the latest?”

  “Well, I had an interesting conversation with Constance today.” She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Peter’s room.

  “Constance? Seriously? How in the world did that come about?”

  “She actually approached me in town.”

  “No way. Why? I thought she couldn’t stand you?”

  “She can’t.” Kelly laughed dryly.

  “Was she trying to rub hooking up with Stephen in your face?”

  “Not really. She was more concerned with her job. She seems to think I got her fired, and she hoped I could get her rehired.” Kelly shook her head. “I can’t understand how she came up with that one.”

  “She must have had some reason to think you could swing that.”

  “I don’t know why.”

  “You were so hurt and angry last night, you had me worried.”

  “Sorry.” She sighed.

  “I’m glad you seem calmer.” Gayle hesitated. “I mean, I get why you’re furious with Peter. But he isn’t Hitler. He’s just a guy trying to write a book. He’s just doing his job.”

  She scowled. “How can you say that? He tried to bribe Stephen with sex and money.” She gripped the phone. “And he also tried to manipulate me with sex.”

  “Geez, Kelly. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he slept with you because he actually likes you?” Gayle’s voice was gentle, but exasperated. “I sincerely doubt he’d have done that just so he could get information from you. Frankly, if you guys did it right, there shouldn’t have been a whole lot of talking.”

  Kelly’s color deepened. “Gayle. Stop.”

  Gayle laughed. “He slept with you because he’s attracted to you. You need to accept that.”

  “I’m just going by the evidence.”

  “You don’t have any evidence. All you have is speculation.” Gayle sighed. “Did you find anything concrete today during your snooping?”

  Kelly chewed on her lip. “Not really, though I found enough to be sure he really was writing something about me, at least initially.”

  The sound of Peter’s door opening made her heart drop, and she jumped guiltily. “Romeo just came out of his room. I’ll call you tomorrow, Gayle.”

  “You’d better.”

  She placed the receiver down and went into the living room to sit on the couch, switching on the TV. She wanted to retreat to her room, but she didn’t want to intercept Peter in the hallway.

  He came into the kitchen clean-shaven, with his hair still damp. He had on a white T-shirt that clung to his toned chest, and a pair of khaki shorts.

  She sat on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest, watching him move around the kitchen. Why did she keep watching him when the sight of him stirred her deep inside? It was almost impossible to ignore how much she wanted him. She tried to concentrate on the television show, but it was a comedy, and the last thing she felt like doing was laughing.

  She felt so restless, maybe she needed to take some kind of action. Should she just sit here in silence, knowing what she knew, for the next month? Maybe she should confront him, demand he leave. But the thought of him leaving filled her with an unspeakable sadness. She was in an impossible situation.

  The more he ignored her, the more it annoyed her. Peter seemed only too content to pretend she didn’t exist. He wandered around the kitchen, whistling softly. He was cooking something on the stove, stirring it with a wooden spo
on, carefully serving it onto his plate.

  His nonchalant attitude was driving her insane. She wanted to scream at him that she knew what he’d done. That she knew he’d used her and tried to bribe Stephen. Who did he think he was? He’d come into her life, betrayed her trust, and now proceeded to just waltz around her house like he’d done nothing wrong.

  Kelly sat there seething with her hands clenched in anger. In an attempt to calm down, she told herself to relax. But it wasn’t easy to do that. She wanted him to pay for what he’d done to her. She wanted him to hurt like she hurt. But he looked perfectly content.

  She couldn’t stand the thought of night after night sitting here, knowing what a lying rat he was, and not being able to tell him. Gayle had probably been right when she’d told her to burn all his stuff. At least then she’d feel like she’d inflicted some sort of punishment on him.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Peter’s dry voice cut into her mental diatribe.

  “I’m sorry, what?” She was surprised when he addressed her.

  “In my room, did you find whatever it was you were searching for?” He’d finished his meal, and was sitting at the table in the kitchen, facing the living room. His voice was calm. Too calm.

  She was glad of the semidarkness that hid the blush of her cheeks. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her voice wobbled as she spoke.

  He sat quietly at the table for a few minutes with his eyes dark, inscrutable. Then he rose in one fluid movement and came slowly toward her. Kelly’s heart leapt to her throat at his angry expression. His mouth was a grim line and his dark brows pulled together.

  “You have a very distinctive perfume, Kelly. I know from that alone that you were in my room today.”

  She lifted her chin. “No I wasn’t.”