Smoke in Mirrors

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Me, too. Think maybe he knows about the money Meredith skimmed off the endowment fund? Figures she stashed it somewhere before she died and now hopes maybe he can find it?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.” She wrinkled her nose. “A million and a half bucks could explain a lot of phony lust. But how would he have discovered her scam? She wasn’t the type to confide in a man even if she was sleeping with him.”

  “I figured out that she was up to no good,” Thomas reminded her softly. “With a computer and my brother’s help.”

  “But you didn’t become suspicious of her until she left town in a very sudden manner and you got a hunch that it might be a good idea to check out the endowment accounts. What would have made Alex question her disappearance?”

  “Rhodes may have had his own reasons to suspect that Meredith was running a con.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Got a feeling they might have had a few things in common,” Thomas said evenly. “Meredith was a scam artist. As far as I’m concerned, that antistress formula Rhodes is selling puts him in the same professional category. Takes one to know one.”

  “You think Alex is a fraud?”

  “Give me a break. The guy charges a fortune for that nutritional supplement he peddles.”

  “A great many people believe wholeheartedly in alternative medicine. And with good and valid reasons.”

  “Rhodes strike you as the holistic medicine type?”

  She hesitated. “All right, let’s say for the sake of argument that he guessed that Meredith was up to something. How would he know about the missing endowment money?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Beats me. But we can’t rule out the possibility that he’s looking for it and thinks that you might be able to help him find it.”

  “In other words,” she said neutrally, “Alex may have picked me up in the frozen-foods aisle for many of the same reasons that you cornered me in Meredith’s apartment the other day. He knows that Meredith ripped off a million and a half bucks and he knows that she knew me so I might know where the money is.”

  Thomas looked irritated by that summary of events.

  “The money may have brought us together,” he said, “but it’s not the reason we formed our partnership. If you will recall, you more or less blackmailed me into this arrangement.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s right. I forgot.”

  “You’ve got a selective memory.”

  “My librarian training, no doubt.” She paused. “You know, I’d say it’s just barely possible that Meredith mentioned me to Alex, although not very likely. But I’d stake my last dime that she did not tell him about her scam or the money. She was very cautious with her secrets. I certainly never knew her to confide them to those of the male persuasion.”

  He considered that briefly. “Good point.”

  “Not to change the subject, but what did you do with Wrench?”

  “He’s tied up outside where he can ogle females of the four-footed variety.”

  She raised her brows. “You mean he’s still capable of enjoying the opposite sex? I thought when you got a dog from a shelter they made you get the animal neutered.”

  “I never explained the details of the operation to Wrench. Figured it would depress him.”

  “Thoughtful of you to withhold the facts.”

  “He’s my buddy. A guy does stuff like that for a pal. You ready to leave? I’ll walk you back to the cottage.”

  “All right.” She got to her feet.

  He helped her into her coat. “By the way, while you were busy with your detective work, did you happen to notice Rhodes’s eyes?”

  “How could one fail to do so?”

  “Weird, huh? I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like that.”

  She smiled. “Tinted contact lenses.”

  “. . . And center yourself.” Cassie assumed a half-lotus position, one ankle tucked into the crease between torso and thigh. “Ground yourself, clear your mind and allow yourself to sink into the stillness.”

  Deke followed instructions, folding himself into the final pose of the session. He tried to concentrate on clearing his mind but the process was, of course, a contradiction in terms. If you concentrated on something, after all, you were not exactly clearing your mind.

  That was especially true when his concentration was focused almost entirely on the lush curves of Cassie’s thighs.

  The woman had outstanding thighs, full and ripe and elegantly curved. They were excellently showcased in her snug, black tights. But, then, everything about Cassie was outstanding. She was magnificent, in his opinion.

  If he had any sense he would cancel these sessions. Doing yoga with her always made him hard. He was torturing himself.

  “. . . Relax and find the nexus of your energy lines . . .”

  He lived for these yoga lessons. They were the bright spot of his week. No need to search himself for the nexus of his energy lines. They were all fused into a stiff erection.

  “. . . And release . . .”

  Nothing he would like better, he thought, than a good release. If only . . .

  Cassie studied him with a troubled expression. “This was not one of our better sessions,” she said. “I got the feeling that you were unable to ground yourself today. Is something wrong?”

  He told himself that he should keep his own counsel. She was his fitness instructor, not his best friend or his therapist. But he needed to talk to someone and she was a woman. Women sometimes saw things that eluded men.

  “Do you think Thomas is sleeping with Leonora Hutton?” he asked.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He had made a mistake. He knew that now. But it was too late to turn back.

  “You saw them together the day before yesterday when you arrived for our Tuesday session. I just wondered if you got the impression that they might be involved in a relationship.”

  “Deke, I only saw them for five minutes. They were on their way out the door, remember? How could I possibly tell what kind of relationship they have?” She gave him a scorching glare and uncoiled to her feet. “Besides, Thomas is your brother. You know him much better than I do. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Thomas can be hard to read sometimes, even for me. But it seemed to me that there was something different about the way he was with her. He couldn’t stop looking at her. And he seemed sort of restless. Like he wanted to get up and move around. Pace the room, maybe. That’s not like him. He’s the most laid-back guy I know, even when he’s with a woman he happens to be, uh—”

  “Even when he’s with a woman with whom he’s having an affair?” Cassie unzipped her gym bag and pulled out her sweatpants. “Is that what you were trying to say?”

  He’d been about to say that Thomas was always calm and centered and at ease with himself even when he was with a woman he happened to be screwing. But he did not want to use the word screw around Cassie. It sounded a little crude. She might find it offensive. Besides, she already seemed a little irritated for some reason.

  “Just thought I’d ask your opinion,” he muttered.

  Cassie yanked her sweatpants on over her tights with uncharacteristically quick, violent motions. “From what you’ve told me, Thomas hasn’t been exactly celibate since his divorce. He dated that woman who worked up at Mirror House for a while a few months ago. Why would it be so strange if he was having another affair?”

  “There’s just something different about this situation.” He struggled to put his hazy impressions into words. “Something different about Thomas.”

  Cassie bent at the waist to tie the laces of her running shoes. “What?”

  “Like I said, he seems very intense around Leonora. There’s a sort of energy between the two of them.”

  “Sexual attraction produces a great deal of energy between two people. It charges the air around them.”

  “But he wasn’t flirting with her. It was almost as if he was annoyed with her. Or maybe with himself. Bu
t that doesn’t feel right, either.”

  Cassie straightened abruptly. “Sexual energy is like any other kind of energy. If it is ignored or resisted, it can form a kind of friction that easily translates into irritation or even outright anger. The only way to deal with it is to acknowledge it and channel it in a healthy, natural manner. I recommend concentrating on breath awareness. Very helpful.”

  Deke winced. Cassie had that crisp, impatient tone in her voice that never failed to confuse and disturb him. It was as if she were lecturing a pupil who was being willfully slow.

  “I never saw Thomas get this edgy around a woman,” he said.

  “He’s probably on edge because they are not yet sleeping together.” Cassie reached for her sweatshirt and pulled it on over her head. “My guess is that once they start an affair, assuming they do, a lot of the tension will be removed from their relationship.”

  “Think so?”

  “Sex is an excellent means of reducing stress and elevating one’s general sense of well-being.” Her words were muffled by the enveloping folds of the shirt. “It can be very therapeutic.”

  “Therapeutic? You really think so?”

  “Yes.” Her head popped out of the neck hole. She avoided looking at him. “Under the appropriate circumstances, sex is a natural, wholesome way of revitalizing the lines of energy.”

  “Appropriate circumstances?”

  “I’m referring to a situation in which both parties are unattached, mutually attracted and in good health.”

  Deke nodded. “Thomas is unattached and in good health and I think he’s attracted to Leonora.”

  “What about you, Deke? You’re unattached and in good health, too. It’s been a year since you lost your wife. Don’t you occasionally think about getting involved with a woman?”

  “Me?” Shit. Had she noticed his erection? “Involved?”

  She exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I’m just your yoga instructor.”

  Deke said nothing.

  She slung her gym bag over her shoulder and went to the door. “I’ll see you on Friday. Meanwhile, work on that cobra pose. You’re forcing it. You need to relax into it.”

  She opened the door and let herself out before he could formulate a response.

  A familiar silence returned to the house. He had the feeling he hadn’t handled things well, but for the life of him he couldn’t see what he had done to make her mad. He’d just asked for her observations on Thomas and Leonora’s relationship, for crying out loud. Somehow she’d twisted the conversation into a discussion of his lack of an active sex life.

  He didn’t need her to point out how barren his sex life was these days. He was all too well aware of that fact, especially when she was in the vicinity.

  He went to the nearest window and pulled the curtains closed. He moved to the next window and repeated the action. He continued around the room until the shadows had returned.

  When the familiar, comfortable gloom had pooled and deepened in the house he went to the desk and fired up the computer. He sat down and gazed into the glowing screen. He had planned to continue looking for anything he could find on the Eubanks murder, but for some reason he found himself thinking of the long-ago afternoon when he and Thomas had sat on the bed in Thomas’s bedroom and listened to their parents hurl accusations at each other out in the kitchen.

  He was nine at the time. Thomas was thirteen. Deke had wanted to cry. But Thomas wasn’t crying, so he couldn’t allow himself to give in to the tears.

  “I think they’re going to get a divorce, Deke. I heard Dad say something about seeing a lawyer.”

  “You mean like Jason’s folks?”

  “Yeah. Dad will probably move out. That’s what usually happens, Mark told me.”

  “Dad’s got a girlfriend, doesn’t he?”

  “That’s what Mom says.”

  “Think Mom will get a boyfriend after Dad moves out?” Deke asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Jason says he only sees his dad once a week now. He doesn’t like the woman his dad married. He says she’s a bimbo. But he really hates the jerk his mother is dating. The guy sleeps in his mom’s bedroom when he stays over and he hogs the remote.”

  They listened to the muffled yelling in the kitchen for a while. Deke hugged the pillow he was holding and fought the tears.

  “I’ll tell you one thing, Deke, I don’t think I’ll ever get married. But if I do, I’m sure not gonna have any kids. I’d never do this to my own kids.”

  “Me, either,” Deke said.

  “No matter what happens,” Thomas said, “you and me, we stick together.”

  “Okay,” Deke said.

  Chapter Nine

  “The formula is tailored to your body’s needs,” Alex said. “No two clients get the exact same version of the product. That is because no two people are exactly the same.”

  “I understand,” Elissa said.

  He opened a cupboard and selected one of the small blue bottles inside. “Also, the formula must be taken under supervision. Close monitoring is essential. That’s why I insist that clients return at least once a week for their supplies.”

  She looked at the blue bottle in his hand. “What’s in it?”

  “Basically it’s a complex mix of ingredients extracted from several species of seaweed.” He closed the cupboard. “My research shows that most people lack the essential nutrients that are found only in the sea. Remember, our blood is very close to seawater, chemically speaking. Here on land we are often deprived of several substances that are common in the saltwater environments. As a result, we frequently function in a chronic state of chemically induced stress. Over the years, it takes a toll.”

  “I see.”

  “My therapy is based upon the principle of restoring the proper levels of certain nutrients and enzymes to the system. Once your body chemistry is back in balance, you will be able to deal with stress much more efficiently.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Elissa gripped her purse. “I’m certainly not doing very well as it is.”

  Alex walked toward her, blue bottle in hand. “In my professional opinion, it is best to take a two-pronged approach to the problem. In addition to using my formula, I strongly recommend counseling.”

  Elissa stiffened. “I really don’t want to talk about my personal life. I can’t discuss it with anyone. I just made this appointment so that I could try your formula.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “I don’t insist on the counseling. But it would be unethical of me not to mention the additional beneficial effects. I use a very unique therapeutic style. I call it mirroring. It’s a form of past-life regression therapy. I’ve had amazing results with it.”

  He hadn’t changed the basic scam much over the years but he routinely gave it a new name every time he set up shop. He was pleased with the term mirroring. He had invented it shortly after arriving in Wing Cove. This town and that architectural monstrosity, Mirror House, had proven to be downright inspirational in many respects. Mostly financial.

  “I don’t believe in past lives,” Elissa said uneasily.

  “Many people don’t believe in them. Until they start to do the personal research, that is. Events and traumas in our previous lives often induce stress in this life, you see. By exploring your past lives and dealing with the tensions in them you can reduce your current stress levels.”

  “Maybe I’ll try it. Someday. May I just have the formula for now, please?”

  “Yes. But if you ever feel the need to go deeper, please contact me. I am a trained professional and you can trust me completely to keep anything said between us strictly confidential.”

  He gave her his reassuring smile, the one that always made the client trust him, and handed her the bottle. He didn’t really care if she eventually opted for the mirroring treatments. Elissa Kern was too rigid and uptight for his taste. He had no interest in getting her into bed.

&n
bsp; “I think you’ll find that you will start to notice some of the beneficial effects almost immediately after the first dose,” he said.

  “I hope so.”

  “This feels very bizarre.” Leonora raised the binoculars to her eyes and peered through the lenses. “I’ve never actually spied on anyone before.”

  Thomas kept his set of compact, high-powered binoculars trained on the front door of Alex Rhodes’s rented house. The cottage was old and weather-beaten. It was located in an isolated stand of trees nearly a mile from the center of Wing Cove. Rhodes apparently liked his privacy.

  “Obviously you’ve led a sheltered life,” Thomas said.

  “Obviously.” She swiveled the binoculars. “I assume the big black SUV is Alex’s?”

  “Yeah. The guy has a thing for black.”

  “What about the little tan compact?”

  “Probably belongs to his client,” Thomas said.

  “Recognize it?”

  “No. Be interesting to see who gets into it, though.”

  “I wonder if we could get arrested for this,” Leonora said.

  “Watching Rhodes’s house? Doubt it.”

  “If we do get picked up, I want you to remember that this was your idea.”

  “You were pretty eager to come along, as I recall.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit that the way Alex approached me this afternoon was very suspicious. And I certainly didn’t want you coming out here without me. But I don’t see what we’re going to learn by watching his clients come and go.”

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “I’m also cold. This fog is getting thicker by the minute.”

  “I warned you this might take some patience.”

  “I’m not the patient type.”

  Thomas adjusted the focus a hair. “I’ve noticed.”

  She paused a beat. “I take it you are the patient type?”

  “I don’t believe in rushing around unless there’s a really good reason and, in my experience, there rarely is.”

  “Hmm.”

  She fell silent for a while but he could tell that she was fidgeting.