Smoke in Mirrors

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Smoke in Mirrors Page 10

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  Chapter Eight

  “You’re new around here, aren’t you? Welcome to Wing Cove.”

  At the sound of the unfamiliar male voice directly behind her, Leonora jumped. She dropped the package of frozen soybean pods back onto the stack, straightened and turned away from the supermarket’s large, glass-walled freezer.

  A strikingly good-looking man with aquiline features and riveting amber eyes stood in the aisle. His jet-black hair was combed straight back and tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

  Dressed in a black, ankle-length leather coat, black pants, a black turtleneck and black boots, he certainly stood out there in the grocery store aisle. She was willing to bet that all of the articles of clothing had designer labels inside.

  “Sorry,” he said, managing to look both amused and apologetic at the same time. “Didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Alex Rhodes.”

  “Leonora Hutton,” she said automatically.

  She told herself she shouldn’t stare into his unusual eyes. Then again, what else was a person supposed to do when talking directly to someone except look into his eyes? The alternative was to stare at his chest and that didn’t seem like a socially correct option.

  “You’re the librarian they brought in to catalog that collection of old books out at Mirror House, aren’t you?” Alex asked.

  “How did you know?”

  He smiled, displaying very white, near perfect teeth. “This is one very small town. Word gets around. I also hear that you had dinner with Thomas Walker the other evening.”

  She became aware of a cold draft chilling her backside. Hastily she closed the freezer door. “Looks like you’ve got my life story in a nutshell.”

  “Not all of it. Just the stuff that happened here in Wing Cove. Want to hear my story?”

  She gave up trying to avoid his strange tiger-yellow eyes. Why bother to be polite? He wanted her to look at him. Probably would have been crushed if she had not found him fascinating.

  His unabashed, darkly sensual style held a certain piquant charm. He knew how good he looked and he was accustomed to having people notice, especially women. He possessed a comfortable nonchalance that told her he was used to trading on his sexy appearance. A masculine version of Meredith, in that respect, she thought.

  “Before I decide whether or not I want your life story,” she said, “maybe you should tell me why, out of all the grocery stores in all the world, you walked into this one and chose me to honor with your tale.”

  His black brows rose. “Damn. The cautious type. I was afraid of that.”

  “It’s an old habit I’m trying to break, but it kicks in once in a while in spite of all my good intentions.”

  “Ah, yes.” He nodded with an air of grave wisdom. “I know all about old habits. You could say I’m something of an expert in the field.”

  “Really? How did that happen?”

  “I’m in the business of breaking old habits.” He drew a black-and-silver case out of his pocket, opened it and handed her one of the little white cards inside. “I’m a stress-reduction consultant. I specialize in helping people deal with the problems of modern life. That usually means getting rid of old habits. I do counseling and I sell a special nutritional formula designed to offset the metabolic effects of stress.”

  She glanced at the card. Alex’s name and a phone number were the only things printed on it.

  “Are you expensive?” she asked.

  “Very. But the real money is in the nutritional supplement. You wouldn’t believe how willing people are to take a spoonful of medicine rather than make genuine changes in their lives.”

  “Nice work if you can get it.”

  “You can say that again.” He gave her a Cheshire cat smile. “And I’ve got it. Want to go back to my place and look at my stress-reduction videos?”

  “Some other time, maybe.”

  He gave a theatrical sigh of deep regret. “All right, I get the point. You aren’t going to let me sweep you off your feet and onto my couch.”

  “You actually have a couch?”

  “Sure. Clients expect it. And it gives me a place to take a nap between appointments.”

  “I can see the logic. How long have you lived here in Wing Cove?”

  “Opened up my practice about a year ago. I can give you a list of references, if you like, but you probably can’t afford me.”

  “Probably not.”

  “I occasionally do some pro bono work, however.”

  “Thanks, but in my family we have this thing against taking charity.”

  Alex Rhodes had been in Wing Cove while Meredith was here, she pondered. They would have met. Alex would have made certain of it. And Meredith would have found him entertaining, to say the least. More importantly, she would have considered him a prime source of information. A stress-reduction consultant who catered to the high-end market was bound to pick up a lot of interesting tidbits about his clients’ private lives. Meredith had collected interesting tidbits that might prove profitable the way other folks collected antiques.

  “No need to give me a list of references,” she said, “and the only nutritional supplements I use are the chocolate-covered kind.”

  “Can I talk you into having a cup of coffee with me, instead? There’s a place just down the street.”

  “I’m still looking for a reason.”

  “How about because I saw you from the far end of this grocery aisle and I was captivated by the vision of you bending over to reach into that freezer?”

  “How about you try again?”

  He laughed. “All right, I’ll tell you the flat-out truth. As I mentioned earlier, this is one small town. Most of the women who are anywhere near my age are either married or clients of mine or students. I never date members of any one of those categories, so that seriously cuts down my social options in Wing Cove.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m a mature, intelligent, sensitive man, Ms. Hutton. I have needs.”

  “I’ll bet you do.”

  “What I need,” he said deliberately, “is a conversation with a sophisticated, interesting woman that does not revolve around a personal neurosis or a relationship issue that is impacting her ability to deal with stress or to have an orgasm. I need such a conversation very badly, Ms. Hutton. I do believe that I would sell my soul for such a conversation.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, let’s have coffee.”

  She ordered tea , of course. Alex got an espresso. Of course. The little cup of extra strong, extra dark coffee went with the rest of the outfit.

  They sat at a small, round table near the window. The crowd was a mix of academics, students and townsfolk. The walls were painted in warm hues of brown and ocher. The wood floor had been finished to look old and worn. A fire burned on a central, open hearth in the middle of the room.

  The fog was back. Outside the window it was so thick it was difficult to make out the shops and galleries that lined the opposite side of the street.

  “Mind if I ask you a question?” Alex said.

  “Depends on the question.”

  “Hate to do this. But before I try to impress you with the breadth and depth of my intellect and sophistication, I feel the need to ask you to define your relationship with Thomas Walker.”

  She paused in the act of removing the tea bag from the cup. “My what?”

  “I hear the two of you had dinner together last night. In this town that constitutes a relationship.”

  “I see.” She set the wet bag down very carefully on the saucer. “We’re just friends.”

  “That’s it? Just friends?”

  “Yes.”

  Alex pondered that for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t know. ‘Friends’ is a vague term, don’t you think?”

  “Is it?”

  Alex lounged back in his chair, long, lean legs extended, and looked at her with his glowing gold eyes. “For instance, a few months back, Walker was friends for a while with another woma
n who worked up at Mirror House. Close friends. One might even say intimate friends.”

  Meredith.

  She concentrated on taking a sip of tea. It wasn’t bad tea. It wasn’t good tea, either. It had the subtle but distinctive aftertaste that tea made from a bag always had. Not as dreadful as instant tea but not nearly as good as tea made from fine quality loose leaves in a proper pot.

  Okay, stop stalling. You’re supposed to be playing private detective here.

  “I will tell you one thing,” she said smoothly. “My relationship with Thomas Walker most definitely cannot be defined as intimate.”

  Alex nodded. “I just wanted to be sure. I dated Walker’s other friend for a while after they stopped seeing each other. Not sure how he felt about that. Things can get a little too cozy in a small town like this.”

  “Nice to know you’ve got a personal code of conduct that applies to your social life.”

  “More like I’m just damned cautious. I don’t need a rep for sleeping with the locals’ wives and girlfriends.”

  “Bad for business?”

  “Very bad.”

  “I can understand that.” She had nothing to lose by being a little bolder, she decided. “My turn for a personal question. What happened to your relationship with Thomas Walker’s other friend?”

  “We didn’t see each other for long. Between you and me, I think she may have had a problem with drugs. She left town a few weeks ago. I heard she was killed in a car crash.”

  She started to pick up her cup again but quickly changed her mind when she realized that her fingers were trembling. She put her hand back in her lap.

  “This woman used drugs, you said?”

  “Can’t swear to it, you understand. She sure as hell never did them in front of me. But the rumors were all over the place after she died.”

  “Where would she get them in a small town like this?”

  “Don’t you read the papers? You can buy that junk anywhere these days. Besides, this is a college town. That makes it even easier.”

  “I see.” So much for getting the name of the local drug kingpin. This detective work was hard.

  “How did you meet Walker?” Alex asked.

  “He’s my landlord.” She was pleased with the way that came out. Very casual. Very innocent. “I met him when I rented my cottage.”

  Alex looked briefly surprised, as if he hadn’t considered that mundane possibility. Then he nodded. Thoughtful now. And maybe less intent. More relaxed.

  “That’s right,” he said. “I think Meredith mentioned that he was into the home improvement scene in a big way. She said he had picked up a couple of the old summer cottages overlooking the cove and planned to remodel them.”

  “I have the cottage that hasn’t been redone yet. But it’s warm and dry and comfortable enough for the short time I’ll be in town.”

  “How long do you expect your project at Mirror House to last?”

  “I’m estimating that it won’t take me more than a few months at most to put that collection online. The original cataloging was clearly done by a pro who devised a unique classification system for the books. It resembles the Library of Congress system to some degree but it’s been greatly enhanced and expanded to allow for nuance and very fine distinctions in the subject—”

  “Where’s home?” he interrupted.

  Apparently Alex was not terribly interested in the details of her professional work at Mirror House. Before she could decide whether or not to invent a false answer to that query, the door of the coffeehouse opened. She did not have to turn her head to know who had just entered. She was developing a sixth sense where Thomas Walker was concerned.

  Alex did turn his head. He watched Thomas coming toward them. There was an almost imperceptible hardening of his spectacular eyes.

  “You sure about the status of your relationship with Walker?” he asked. “He’s just your landlord?”

  “Yes.”

  Thomas arrived at the table. “Don’t knock it, Rhodes. The relationship between landlord and tenant is damn near a sacred trust. Backed up by the full weight and authority of several centuries’ worth of law, custom and tradition. Sort of like marriage.”

  Leonora gave him a warning look. Thomas did not appear to notice. He pulled out a chair, reversed it and straddled it. He rested his arms along the back and smiled at her.

  “I was at the hardware store across the street. Thought I saw you come in here. Everything okay at the cottage?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Be sure to let me know if you need any maintenance work.”

  “I will.”

  She picked up her cup and took a sip of tea while she tried to figure out what was going on here. The testosterone levels were climbing fast. Had she unwittingly achieved that pinnacle of feminine accomplishment that occurred when one became the object of the rampaging lust of two men who were willing to fight for the honor of her favors?

  Nah. Stuff like that never happened to her.

  Alex glanced at his heavy gold watch and pushed back his chair. “Hate to leave, but I’ve got an appointment with a client. Can’t be late. Nice to meet you, Leonora. You’ve got my card. Give me a call if you feel the need for some advice on how to handle stress.”

  “I’ll do that,” she said.

  He winked. “One of these days I’d like to know what you planned to do with those frozen soybeans.” He nodded at Thomas. “See you around, Walker.”

  “Sure,” Thomas said.

  Alex walked away toward the front door of the coffeehouse. He collected his long black coat from a rack, pulled it on and went outside.

  Thomas watched through the window as Alex disappeared into the fog.

  “Frozen soybeans?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the window.

  “They make a wonderful, low-cal appetizer.”

  “I’ll have to remember that. Think Wrench would like ’em?”

  “I doubt it. Wrench doesn’t strike me as the type who would have much interest in soybeans.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” Thomas switched his attention back to her.

  The ice in his gray eyes caught her off guard.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “What did Rhodes want?”

  She hesitated and then gave a small shrug. “He said that he longed to indulge in a stimulating conversation with a single female who was not a client, student or the wife or girlfriend of a potential client.”

  “Stimulating conversation, huh? Could have sworn he was coming on to you.”

  She sipped some more tea. “That, too, perhaps.”

  “Were you enjoying this stimulating conversation?”

  “I will have you know,” she said primly, “that I was playing detective.”

  “Is that so? Mind if I ask why you chose to practice your detecting skills on Rhodes?”

  “There were a couple of very sound reasons. First, I found it quite interesting that he approached me out of the blue, so to speak. Just sort of materialized there in the frozen-foods aisle, if you will.”

  Thomas tapped one finger lightly against the wooden chair back. “Okay, I’ll give you that. It is interesting. Any idea why he initiated the conversation?”

  “My derriere was apparently displayed in an extremely provocative and enticing manner when I bent over to pick up the previously referenced package of soybeans in the freezer case.” She took a sip of her tea. “Never had that happen before. I may have to start buying more soybeans.”

  “Doubt if the soybeans had much to do with it. Guys tend to notice things like women’s derrieres. What was your other reason for letting him drag you in here for tea and stimulating conversation?”

  “Very early on in our chat, he mentioned Meredith.”

  Thomas was silent for a beat.

  “Is that right?” he said very softly.

  “He brought up the subject all by himself without any prompting from me.”

  “N
ot real subtle, is he?”

  “No. I got the feeling that he didn’t have time to be subtle. He wanted answers and he wanted them quickly. He also volunteered the information that he and Meredith had dated for a while after you stopped seeing her.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  She picked up the teacup and looked at him over the rim. “But you didn’t, did you?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t think it was important.”

  “You may have been wrong about that.”

  He gave it a few seconds’ thought. “I may, indeed, have been wrong. Damn. What’s going on here? Where the hell does Alex Rhodes fit into this?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I can tell you this much, he was extremely concerned about the precise nature of our relationship.”

  “Our relationship?” Thomas frowned. “As in you and me?”

  “Yes. You and me. I was in the process of assuring him that we were merely landlord and tenant when you arrived.”

  “Well, now.”

  “One could, of course, jump to the conclusion that Mr. Rhodes is a fine example of the upstanding, noble sort of male who does not wish to be known for seducing other men’s girlfriends.”

  “In other words, he may have been swept off his feet there in the frozen-foods aisle and was merely doing the manly thing, making sure you were single and free, before he attempted to put his hands on your charming derriere.”

  “Always assuming that I would have allowed him to put his hands on my charming derriere, even if I happened to be single and free.”

  “Assuming that,” Thomas said.

  “Anything is possible in this crazy old world.” She heaved a sigh. “But somehow, I don’t think that it was instant and immediate lust that prompted him to buy me tea and attempt to interrogate me.”

  Thomas gave her an approving look. “Obviously you have a natural aptitude for this detecting business. Very clever of you not to be deceived by his sneaky tactics.”

  “Yeah, I’m smart all right. But I must admit I’m extremely curious about why he bothered to employ such wily tactics in the first place.”

 

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