Fatal Attractions

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Fatal Attractions Page 3

by Jeanne Foguth


  Stone hadn’t been able to think straight since Ariel tossed her hair back and looked up at him. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what was unusual about her, but there was something. Nothing really seemed to match; yet everything about her was perfect. Marishka had affected him the same way and that relationship had been a disaster on all levels. “Just drop it, okay?”

  Link shook his head. “I really don’t get it. You haven’t been-“

  Since his marriage, his treacherous mind finished the thought. “I said drop it.”

  This time, Link put up his hands in surrender. “Okay. You don’t have to shout.”

  Stone, who knew he’d only used a warning tone, made a sound halfway between a grunt and a snort, then stomped the rest of the way upstairs.

  “Fine, I’ll go clean the fish.” Link sounded as surly as he felt. “When are you heading down to Valdez? After dinner or first thing in the morning?”

  “I’m going right now,” Stone snapped. “Dolly doesn’t ask stupid questions.”

  “Good, go polish her brass and get whatever is bothering you out of your system.”

  Stone took the last steps two at a time. He tossed his clothes into his duffel bag and mentally debated if friendships begun in college should disintegrate after graduation, or form business partnerships. He and Link had gotten on well as roommates at Texas A & M, and it had seemed sensible to combine work with companionship by living together after his divorce from Marishka, but they seemed to have grown past the stage where the arrangement worked. Though their business wasn’t suffering, living together was putting a crimp in their friendship.

  Marishka. The woman had been a typhoon in the smooth sail of his life. After the divorce, he’d felt tattered and beaten; he’d obsessed about her and their marriage for months and still occasionally wondered what he could have done differently. However, since the wounds had begun to heal, he’d discovered that having a marriage fail didn’t make him a failure. Until he’d locked eyes with Ariel, he’d thought he was finally on the path to mental health. Stone shuddered. He needed to get to Valdez as fast as possible and loose himself in Dolly.

  ~0~

  Tempest gazed up at the joists supporting the floor overhead. “That hole is big enough to stick a rope through.” She looked optimistic.

  “And why do you care about that?” Ariel asked.

  “I was kinda hoping we’d be here awhile.” She looked Ariel in the eye. “And I miss working out.”

  Ariel studied the basement rafter’s empty knothole. It looked too close to the bottom edge to support the weight of a body bag. “I miss working out, too, but I think we’d need a better support.”

  “Then we can get one?” Tempest said. Ariel nodded. “Fabulous! I’m gonna get as good as you. Maybe I’ll glue Father’s picture on it. That should be motivational, don’t you think?”

  Before she answered, the doorbell rang. Tempest dashed up the basement stairs and Ariel’s breath caught. Two years ago, Peter’s goons had gone door to door in their apartment building. Ariel stood still as a statue and prayed for deliverance, while Tempest took the stairs up to the main level, two at a time. The doorbell rang a second time. “Hello? Ariel?” Link called. “Tempest? Are you awake?”

  Air surged into Ariel’s lungs.

  “Coming,” Tempest called, as her footfalls pounded down the hallway overhead.

  “Am I disturbing you? I can come back.”

  “Nope.”

  Would Tempest ever fully grasp the concept of safety? Unsteadily, Ariel walked toward the stairs. She paused hand on the rail. Please God, let Link be alone, don’t let Peter or anyone who can identify us be with him. Taking a deep breath, she headed upstairs.

  “Did you forget something?” Tempest asked, her tone curious. Surely the naïve kid wouldn’t sound so casual if anyone was with Link.

  “Nope,” Link said, as Ariel stepped into the hallway. Link gave Tempest a boyish grin, punctuated by a wink. “Stone flew down to Valdez earlier than we’d originally planned and I’m hoping to talk you and your mom into helping me eat a trout I caught.” Link’s smile widened. “How about it? You like fresh seafood?”

  “Love it!” Tempest’s stomach growled loud enough for Ariel to hear it. “You fish a lot?” her sister asked.

  He nodded. “I love to fish and I like to cook, but I hate eating alone.” His soft Texas accent coupled with the boyish smile seemed innocent. He grinned, looking from Tempest to Ariel. “How about it? Will you come?”

  Tempest looked up at her, eyes huge with hope. “Pull-ease?”

  He seemed genuine and it could be a good opportunity to learn more about the area. Ariel shoved aside her doubts and grasped the sheer delight of a nice looking man offering to cook for her. “You just gave us the nicest offer we’ve had in days.” Tempest whooped with delight as she twirled around, then she sprinted toward the stairs to the upper level.

  “That means she’s glad you agreed, right?” he whispered.

  Ariel laughed. “It means she’s beating me to the shower so she’ll be ready on time.” A whoop of delight came from above. “Does that answer your question?” He nodded. Ariel added, “I hope this unit has a good water heater, because she’s been known to use tons getting ready for a special dinner.” It had been a long time since either of them had been invited anywhere. Longer since they’d felt safe enough to accept. She hadn’t done anything this spontaneous in years. Ariel smiled at him, feeling a bit giddy. “What can I contribute?”

  “No need to contribute. Especially not when you’re busy moving in.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he added, “See you in an hour or so.” Link looped down the steps, vaulted up the steps next door, then turned and waved.

  Ariel closed the door. Heart light with anticipation, she grabbed her pocket book and keys. For the first time in years, an attractive, intelligent gentleman seemed interested in her, even after meeting Tempest. Of course, it was doubtful if anything would ever come of the situation. They never stayed anywhere long enough to establish real relationships. But at least she could imagine the possibility. An image of Stone intruded on her thoughts. Ariel shivered. Despite the somewhat tender way he’d assisted her with Mozart, Stone didn’t seem like the type who had deep relationships. Worse, his dark coloring and wide shoulders were an unwanted reminder of Peter.

  Despite what Link had said, Ariel drove to the store they’d passed on the way to the townhouse complex.

  Later, standing at Link’s front door, Ariel fought a nervous tremor as Tempest rang the doorbell. The door opened before Tempest’s finger left the button. Had he been watching them through the peephole? Ariel fought against the need to flee. “Welcome.” Link’s tone was tinged with thinly veiled irritation, which flamed Ariel’s paranoia. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home.”

  Tempest giggled and did just that. “Mama found a lemon-meringue pie,” Tempest announced. Ariel prayed her overly trusting sister wasn’t stepping into a trap. “Ooooooh, it smells wonderful. Seafood is my favorite. I love lemon pie with fish.” She thrust the pie at Link. “You can really cook? I’ve never heard of men cooking.”

  Link tousled Tempest’s black spiked hair as he winked at Ariel. Was he really this friendly, or was his behavior an act to calm them so Peter had time to set up something? Her fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle of wine she’d purchased as a friendship offering and thought that it would make a good weapon. But for now, it was best to play along with Link and act as if her paranoia wasn’t warranted. It would be nice to have the possibility of romance. Ariel smiled as she thrust the bottle of wine at him.

  Link wiped his free hand on his jeans before he took it. Despite the rugged work shirt, his fingers didn’t look like he did manual labor. Neither had Stone’s. Both of them had hands as smooth and innocent looking as Peter's. A shiver went down Ariel’s spine. “Cabernet Sauvignon,” he said.” If you always come bearing gifts like this, I’m going to have you two over a lot.” Link sniffed the
air. “Gotta check the oven. Come on into the kitchen if you want, or sit in the living room, whichever makes you more comfortable.”

  Tempest trotted behind Link.

  Ariel lagged behind. Trying to appear casually snoopy, she looked through the archway to her left. Their living room’s deep forest green walls complimented the burgundies and dark blues of the leather furniture all of which combined to give the room a sense of masculine permanence, which was almost as reassuring as not finding an ambush. On the other hand, there wasn’t a speck of clutter. Either Link and Stone had a great house cleaner and she’d left five minutes ago or they were vastly different from her stepbrother … or someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like Link and Stone had lived here for a long time.

  No ashtrays, which could leave behind butts and their accompanying DNA. Which was probably why Peter had been scrupulously tidy. She wrapped her hands over her roiling stomach, as she peered around the space, wondering what made it feel like one of Peter’s sham settings, which she now understood had been designed more to give people an impression of him, than for comfort.

  She sniffed the aroma of fresh bread. At least that seemed real and safe. Ariel hurried into the kitchen, where Link was peeking into the oven while Tempest stared out the window, her back to the room. How often had she told her sister not to leave herself in such a vulnerable position? Ariel looked around the room’s black-lacquer cabinets, chrome appliances and crimson walls, cataloguing everything that could be used for a weapon - if necessary - and ignoring useless things like the chalk board hanging next to the old-fashioned black wall phone. “Can I help with anything?”

  Link tilted his head toward the breakfast bar, where a big butcher-block chopping board half covered with lettuce, carrots, peppers and tomatoes sat under a black wrought iron rack of pots and knives. “How are you at making salad?”

  “Not bad.” Glad to have a viable reason to clutch a knife, even if the offer might have been made to give her a false sense of security, Ariel began slicing tomato wedges. Having the weapon in her hand eased the tension and sense of imposing doom. Cut by cut, her sense of security returned.

  Tempest pressed her nose against the window, which overlooked the fenced in back yard. “Are the dogs friendly?”

  “Sure - once they’ve been introduced to a person.” Link tossed his potholders on the counter. “What do you say, Ariel?” He gave her a questioning look. “Can she meet them?”

  Tempest whirled away from the window, her hands clasped as if in prayer. Ariel looked from her pleading expression to the dogs. By comparison to her first glimpse, they appeared peaceful. Of course, anything short of a full-fledged riot would look serene. “Pull-ease?” Tempest begged

  Against her better judgment, Ariel said, “If Link thinks it’s safe.”

  “Oooooo, thank you!” Tempest threw her arms around Ariel’s waist and whooped with excitement, then she spun away and leaped toward the door. She paused, uncertainty in her expression. “Mr. Gavallan –“

  Link blinked in an exaggerated manner. “I’m Link. Mr. Gavallan is my father.”

  “Oh, okay.” Tempest cast a worried glance at Ariel, then she directed the full force of her excitement on Link. “What are their names? What games do they like to play? How long have you had them?” Her questions came too fast for him to answer.

  He laughed. “I’ll introduce you.” He opened the door and motioned Tempest to follow him. Two of the lounging dogs rose and bounded toward them; the other two, in chain link cages, merely raised their heads with interest.

  Ariel, knife ready to throw, moved toward the door, but unlike their earlier behavior, the dogs’ tails were wagging. In fact, the bigger one’s tail was beating so hard it looked like the husky was vibrating with excitement. She stood in the open door, consciously adopting what would look like a casual pose, but prepared to do whatever the situation warranted.

  Link picked up a small purple football and tossed it. The bigger dog raced away, leaped high and caught it mid-air. When Link gestured toward Tempest, the big black and white furry husky gently dropped it into her hands. Tongue lolling out of its mouth, muscles rippling with energy, the dog seemed to be silently urging her to throw it for him.

  Tempest’s giggle sounded carefree as she threw it. The ball hit the ground a mere pace away. Link chuckled as the dog pounced on it. “Here, let me show you how to throw.” As if it understood, the dog brought Link the ball. Link patiently showed Tempest where to put her fingers, then demonstrated the proper arm movement. Tempest’s second throw sailed high and long. She squealed with glee, as the dog streaked under the purple projectile, jumped, and caught it.

  Persuaded that Tempest was relatively safe, but not enough to close the door, Ariel returned to the cutting board and began slicing a cucumber. She told herself it was good for Tempest to have a decent male role model. The phone shrilled. She jumped.

  “Ariel, could you get that?” Link called from the backyard.

  “Sure,” she said, grateful that her voice didn’t betray her. She took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  There was a long pause, but fortunately no deep breathing. Ariel swallowed and wondered if she should hang up. “Get me Stone,” a woman’s commanding voice said.

  “He isn’t here.” Ariel cleared her throat. “Could I take a message?” She picked up a stick of chalk from the blackboard’s tray and stood poised to write.

  The silence lengthened. “Where is he?” The woman’s voice snapped like a whip.

  “Link said he’d gone someplace.” She frowned in concentration. “I can’t remember the place’s name. I think it started with V.”

  “So he’s on his way here. Good.”

  “Is there a mes-“

  “I’ll try Dolly.”

  There was a reverberating bang. Ariel stared at the receiver. Who was Dolly? If she was some sort of girlfriend, why had Stone insinuated he and Link were partners? She thoughtfully replaced the receiver. Was she happy that Stone might have a lady friend or not? She envisioned his dark hair and the blue eyes that could render a woman senseless. Yes, she was definitely glad he had a girlfriend. She twirled the chalk back between her fingers before replacing it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t fantasize about having both men interested in her. She smiled. Fantasies were often safer than reality. With those dimples, Stone would make a dynamite gigolo. Perhaps he had two girlfriends, the one on the phone and Dolly. If so, obviously one knew about the other. He had seemed nice enough to fight for, so she could understand why two women would be willing to feud over him.

  Ariel pinched the bridge of her nose at the tender spot between her eyes; something she did to relieve headaches. And the thought of romance certainly qualified as a headache. A relationship was the last thing she needed, particularly a liaison with someone who turned her mind to mush. She needed to be alert for danger. Having Stone and Link living next door was going to be distracting enough.

  She glanced out the window, where laughter, shrieks of delight and barks punctuated the lively fetch-match. Stone probably collected women like dogs collected fleas.

  What on earth was wrong with her? Had she lost her mind when she’d looked into his eyes? She wiped the chalk dust on her khaki cargo pants, grabbed the knife and attacked the cucumber. She was in no position to have a relationship with anyone. Whack. She didn’t need to keep thinking about Stone. Whack. If the past was any clue, the Ariel and Tempest Danner identities wouldn’t last a year. Whack. Whack. Whack.

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and cleared the unwanted thoughts away.

  The last time she’d felt anything similar to this, she’d been coping with her first alias, Maria, a Latina fast order cook with a marginal grasp of Spanish and worse culinary skills. Peter had found them within a month, but she’d learned a lot about survival in those twenty-four days. Ariel looked around the immaculate kitchen with its copper pots and well-honed knives. Why had this immaculate room brought b
ack memories of that greasy spoon and her first alias? While they’d gotten better at building identities, Peter still seemed to be able to find them once they started feeling safe. She frowned. Practice usually did make perfect and so far she liked being Ariel Danner, but if experience offered any suggestion, she’d probably be someone else before Christmas.

  So by then, any worries about Link, Stone, their dogs, or surviving an Alaskan winter would be irrelevant memories. Ariel started humming Silent Night, adjusted her grip on the knife, then chopped the rest of the vegetables - properly, instead of making mush. Working in a kitchen with the right equipment, was fun.

  By the time Link returned, sweat dotted his flushed face, and he looked like he’d run a marathon. “You took the fish out of the oven. Thanks.” He gave her a huge smile. “Some host I am, inviting you to dinner, then playing while you cooked it.”

  “I didn’t mind.” She bit her tongue before she blurted out her thoughts about the way his kitchen reminded her of the homey things she’d left behind.

  “She sure loves the dogs,” Link said.

  Ariel nodded and silently thanked him for putting an innocent spin on her unsaid reflections. “Not just dogs. All animals.” Outside, Tempest and the bigger dog were still having a rousing game of fetch. “She hasn’t had this much fun since-“ Ariel bit her tongue and shrugged.

  “Neither have I.” Link sliced the fish and began placing it on a platter. “So, who called?”

  “A woman wanted to speak to Stone. Before I could get her name or take a message, she hung up.”

  “Abrupt to the point of rudeness?” Link’s expression was somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

  “You might say that.” Ariel tossed the salad.

  “Mavis.” He sighed. “She’s our office manager.”

  “You and Stone work together?”

  “We own Linkstone.”

  “Then why didn’t she want to speak to you?”

  “At the moment, I’m on Mavis’s roster, so she’s avoiding me.” He chuckled. “Pretty easy since she works out of our Valdez office.”

 

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