“Why didn’t she come right out and ask about it?”
“Partly because she wasn’t sure what was going on and she didn’t want to hurt or embarrass her friends by saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. And partly because she was a little hurt that whatever it was, she hadn’t been included.” He shrugged, and Lainey detected the smallest hint of a smile ghosting his lips.
Her body leaped in response, which only frustrated her more. What did she have to do? Hit her hormones over their squirmy little heads with a sledgehammer?
“And partly,” he continued, “because she loves a good mystery and it was killing her that she couldn’t figure this one out.”
“So she hired you.”
“Not at that point. She had one possible contact left. You.”
Lainey blinked but otherwise forced herself not to react. She knew with a certain dread exactly where his story was leading. Damn, damn, damn. This was already complicated enough without Lillian’s well-intentioned meddling and her sort-of-nephew’s interference.
“She couldn’t talk to you around the café, and you weren’t a regular salon client. She knew you went to Sam’s to buy fish on Saturdays, so she followed you in the hopes of talking to you privately about the whole thing.”
And she saw me talking to Damian. Tucker didn’t have to finish. “I get the picture.”
“Well, would you mind sharing it with the rest of us? She tried to talk to you after the guy left, but you hurried out of there before she could get to you. That was last week. I flew in to see her earlier this week, and she confided the whole thing to me. I’ll admit I was skeptical, but we talked and somehow she managed to …” His words trailed off, and he shifted his gaze toward a spot on the ground.
It took Lainey a moment of studying him to realize what had stopped his strident speech. “And she snookered you into being a masseur to the seniors in the hopes that while your hands worked them into a state of mindless relaxation, they’d open up and tell you everything.”
He lifted his head, his expression aiming for cool non-chalance and missing by a mile. His pink neck told the whole story. She let out a hoot of laughter and clapped her hands together. “A change of careers, huh? Tell me something: Was the rest of the story a setup too? You’re really a stockbroker or something, right? Just here on vacation.”
“Oh, I was in securities, all right,” he said stubbornly, over her laughter, “but not the kind traded on Wall Street.”
She sat down on the bench and tried to catch her breath. “Oh, this is almost too ridiculous, even for me.” She shook her head and stifled another giggle. “Conrad’s mother would have a field day with this one.”
Tucker sat down next to her but kept his gaze straight ahead. “Ah, yes, Conrad, the infamous Mrs. Maitland’s little golden boy.”
Lainey swung her head up, surprised at his sharp sarcasm. His profile was as unrelenting as his determination. His jaw jutted out, under cheekbones cast in stark relief, eyes focused on some faraway point in the gulf.
“You have no idea what kind of man Conrad was.” Why in the name of heaven she was defending him, she had no idea. Or maybe it wasn’t so much a defense of Conrad as of herself.
“I know he was one of your bad judgments in men,” Tucker stated flatly. “And I know Mrs. Maitland is a control freak with more money than common sense. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to add it all up.”
“Oh, thanks. Thank you very much.” It hurt that he saw so clearly what she had not. It hurt even worse that he apparently thought less of her for her blindness in the matter. But what was most horrifying was that he was capable of hurting her at all. She wasn’t supposed to care what Tucker Morgan thought of her. Mrs. Maitland was right, not for the right reasons, but the bottom line was the same. She really was a lost cause.
Lainey sighed and stood. “This has all been so very illuminating, but I really must go now.” She half expected him to lunge out and grab her, but he didn’t so much as blink when she turned and walked away. That shouldn’t have hurt, either.
She’d gone about ten yards or so when he called her name. She stopped but didn’t turn.
“Lainey,” he said again. He didn’t shout. He didn’t have to.
After a silent debate, she turned around, but she didn’t take a step back in his direction. “What?”
“I quit.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Quit what?”
“Being a masseur-slash-spy for Lillian.”
Lainey didn’t hide her skepticism. “Have you told her that?”
She hardened herself to the smile that struggled and finally broke free, curving his mouth slightly and crinkling the corners of his eyes oh-so-charmingly.
“You can’t really tell Lillian anything she doesn’t want to hear.” His smile faded. “But I knew when you left yesterday that my brief career as a masseur was over.”
She took a step closer. “Why?” she demanded. “Was it because you figured I was your ticket to solving the mystery? Is that why you really followed me to Sam’s?”
“Solving the mystery was a convenient reason to follow you to Sam’s, but I did it because I wanted to see you again. You intrigue me, Lainey. I didn’t want you to walk away. I still don’t.”
“Let’s not get into that again.” She hoped she sounded strong and sure, because she didn’t feel it. She tried to remember all the reasons why she shouldn’t care how Tucker Morgan felt about her.
“I also knew I couldn’t go on because it wasn’t right,” he continued. “No matter that Lillian’s heart is in the right place. She really is worried about her friends, and she thought she saw a way to help them without hurting anyone. Against my better judgment, I agreed to help her. I still plan to help, since I’m pretty certain she has good reason to worry.”
“You’ll help her nose around, just not as a masseur.” Her heart told her to share what she knew, join forces. But her head warned her that she was making hasty decisions again, being impulsive. Frustration with him, with the situation and her apparent inability to make a decent judgment on anything, reached maximum load. “So how is she going to explain you to her friends now? A young boyfriend? And what happens when this is over and you visit her the next time? Or did you both figure that maybe after another seven years that anyone who was here during your last visit would either be dead or too senile to remember your face?”
“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”
She did, but until she had time to sort things out, she had to protect herself and, more important, Minerva. Lainey didn’t have a handle on how she was going to fix the situation, but involving Tucker could be a mistake on more than one level. If she kept him angry enough at her, maybe he’d give up on grilling her and find his information elsewhere. That thought stopped her cold. Could she risk that alternative?
She wanted to clutch her hair and scream. She hated being indecisive, which was likely how her impulses had grown so healthy and strong. But this time she wanted to be smart, think things through and make the logical, wise choice on how to proceed. She eyed Tucker. His face was a picture of determination. Once again, she didn’t think she was going to have the fleeting luxury of time.
And a moment later she was proved right, but not for the reason she’d thought. Tucker was a real problem, but the man she spied walking across the park behind Tucker could prove to be an even bigger one. Damian. If he saw her … Or worse, if Tucker saw him and realized who he was …
She had to get out of there. Now. “Listen,” she said, trying to appear cool and rational. “I’m the last one to judge other people’s decisions or how they choose to handle things. But in this case I think you should tell Lillian to stop worrying about it. Things will work out.”
“Will they, Lainey? You have to know something of what’s going on, and I know you’re worried about it too. Do you plan to talk to Minerva about this?”
She worked to maintain eye contact with Tucker and keep Damian’s progre
ss in her peripheral vision at the same time. “I’ll do what I can, Tucker,” she said sincerely. And she would. As soon as she could ditch Tucker and make a beeline for the nearest exit from the park. “You know, we’ve gotten involved in all of this pretty quickly. I think we ought to back away from it for a while and give them a chance to work things out. Then, if we still think it’s necessary, we’ll come up with a plan.”
Tucker cocked his head to one side.
Damn, she thought, he wasn’t buying into it. She swallowed a sigh of impatience.
“Lainey, I really don’t see how waiting will help. It may hurt. If you tell me what’s going on, maybe I—”
Damian was almost in her direct line of vision. She shifted casually to place Tucker between them, even at the risk of blocking Damian from her sight. Desperate now, she said, “You’re right. I—I should. I mean, we should. Talk, that is. Tonight.” She smiled too brightly, knowing she was babbling and, gauging Tucker’s frown, only raising his suspicions further. “Why don’t we meet later tonight and talk? You can pick me up at the café, say around seven-thirty?”
“I can do that, but—”
“Great. Listen, I gotta run. I just remembered something I have to do and … well, maybe we shouldn’t say anything else until tonight, okay?” She was already backing up.
Tucker folded his arms, his expression more than skeptical. “You promise you’ll show?”
She wondered, half hysterically, why her word would mean anything if he didn’t trust her, but she nodded. “Promise.” She spied a path to her left that led into a landscaped area of dense palmettos and pampas grass, which would provide quick cover. “Tonight, seven-thirty.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer but turned and made her getaway. She prayed that Damian wouldn’t see her, she prayed harder that Tucker wouldn’t recognize him as the mystery man. She had no idea how detailed a description Lillian had given him. Damian would blend in fairly well in a general population, but among all these seniors, a long-haired male stood out.
“Lainey,” Tucker called out, just as she hit the path. “I won’t settle for less than the whole story, including what has you running. That’s a promise too.”
She didn’t answer as she ducked down the path.
Tucker watched her escape. Something had very clearly spooked her. Something … or someone. He glanced casually around the park. There were several seniors strolling along the paths and sitting on various benches. He caught a flicker of movement to his left, but it was just someone ducking into the public rest room. He debated whether to check that person out or follow Lainey. Maybe it was another appointment with the mystery man that had her rushing off in a hurry.
Or maybe she just wanted to get the hell away from you, Morgan, and did it the only way she knew how.
He headed toward the path. In his former line of work, he’d had ample cause to learn how to shadow a person inconspicuously. There were many individuals who, for a variety of reasons, required the services of a bodyguard but didn’t want anyone to notice the fact. In the last several years, as his business had gone international, he hadn’t handled cases personally, spending most of his time in MMSI’s various global offices. But some skills, like riding a bike, once learned, stuck with you. And the one he prided himself on was the art of blending in with the scenery.
The path was narrow and curvy with lush vegetation crowding the edges, making it easy to follow without being seen. He jogged slowly, taking the curves carefully until he spied a flash of red and white. He’d found her. He slowed to a walk, confident for the time being that she intended to stay on the path. He wasn’t certain how long it winded through the park property, but it seemed to be heading slowly back toward the main street rather than toward the shore. Good. Perhaps she’d leave the park and head back to the café or, better yet, home.
Tucker realized that made no sense. If he truly wanted to solve the mystery, then he should be hoping that she was going to meet the mystery man, not heading home. But there had been something about the way she’d acted before leaving that had made him uneasy. He replayed the scene again in his mind and realized immediately what it was. Fear. There had been a flicker of fear in her eyes as she’d verbally scrambled to get away from him.
He was fairly certain she wasn’t afraid of him; she hadn’t reacted that way to his parting warning. She hadn’t reacted at all. She’d been too distracted.
Tucker was pulled out of his musings when Lainey stopped suddenly and stepped off the path between two spiky palmetto bushes. He barely stopped in time to duck behind the twisted trunks of two palm trees.
Damn. Where are you going, Lainey? He waited a few seconds, then crept closer. She pressed on into the narrow strip of lushly designed landscaping that bordered the path. He watched her pick her way around sharp palmetto blades and push past bushy stalks of pampas grass, then stop behind a fat palm at the edge of the carefully tended area. She was scanning the park grounds, particularly the area they’d recently vacated.
Was she checking to see if he was gone? If so, why?
He didn’t have to wait long to find out. Apparently satisfied that the coast was clear, Lainey stepped from behind the palm and quickly crossed the manicured park grounds, heading directly back toward the bench they’d shared. Tucker was forced to take up Lainey’s hiding place as there was nowhere else for him to hide beyond that point. However, he had a clear view of Lainey’s progression.
She surprised him by skirting the bench and heading toward … the rest rooms.
“Damn.” He should have trusted his initial instincts, but when Lainey Cooper was involved, his gut was invariably so twisted up with her, it lost its ability to guide his judgment. Still, it was just as well he’d taken this route. If she was indeed on her way to meet Mr. X, then utilizing Lillian’s description as backup proof, at least he’d know for certain what the guy looked like. He might even be able to tail the guy from the park, find out where he was going, possibly even question him.
Lainey ducked around the back of the small public building and Tucker experienced a moment of doubt. What if the rest room wasn’t her destination after all? This time he ignored his twisted gut and used his head. He set out across the grounds, making use of the sporadically placed palm trees and park benches to provide some cover but never losing sight of the small building.
Once there, he edged carefully around the back and peeked around the corner. No sign of her. He swore under his breath as he rapidly scanned the grounds. She was gone. He couldn’t see how, even at a run, she could have lost him. Where in the blazes was she? Then he noticed there were two entrances on each side of the facility. It didn’t make sense, but it was possible she’d used the other entrance.
A quick check ruled out the men’s room. He eyed the curved entry to the ladies’ room. Did he dare? The way his luck was going, he’d probably stick his head in the door and give some senior a heart attack. The sound of running feet brought his head up.
He blew out a sigh of disappointment. It was just a jogger. A female jogger. An idea formed. He stepped away from the building intent on getting her attention, but that proved unnecessary when she slowed down and headed for the pedestal-style drinking fountain situated in front of the building.
She was short and trim, with sporty-looking blond hair; obviously younger than the local population by a decade or two. She wore a jade silk jogging jacket over figure-flattering matching green leggings and blindingly white sneakers.
He waited for her to finish, then stepped forward. “Hello.”
Startled, she looked up, but her surprise quickly turned into a bright smile and a rapid once-over. “Well, hello, there yourself.”
Now that he saw her face more closely, he realized she was closer to Lillian’s age than his own. A walking advertisement for the wonders of exercise, he thought, and given her smooth skin, probably cosmetic surgery as well. He wondered if she knew Lillian. Hell, with his luck she was probably her best client.
&n
bsp; Tucker groaned at the thought, but time was wasting and he couldn’t be choosy. He couldn’t cover both entrances, and the longer it took to check the ladies’ room out, the better the odds that Lainey, if she was even in there, was long gone.
“I’m Bunny MacAfee,” she said, her voice now a soft, low purr. She stepped closer and extended a tanned, perfectly manicured hand, with several glittering rocks adorning her fingers. “And you are?”
Claws and purrs. Just what he needed, a seventy-something-year-old Bunny in a catsuit. “My name is Tucker. Listen, Ms. MacAfee—”
Her smile widened and she sidled closer. “It’s Bunny.”
He smiled thinly. Why him? “Bunny. Could you do me a favor? I had a little argument with a friend, and she stomped off. I think she’s in the bathroom, and I’m wondering if you’d mind checking in there for me to see if she’s okay.”
Bunny stared at him with avid fascination. “You’re new around here, aren’t you? I’m sure I wouldn’t have forgotten meeting you before.”
Great, she wasn’t even listening to him. Lainey was likely long gone at this point, and he was stuck trying not to become a scratching post. He took a step back, and she closed the distance between them. “Hey, you know, I’m probably wrong. She probably went straight to the car.”
Her eyes glittered. “You need a ride?”
“No! I mean, that’s okay. I’ve got the keys, so she can’t go anywhere. She’s probably cooled off now.” He took several steps back. “Thanks, anyway. Nice meeting you.”
“Wait a minute,” she said, still ignoring him. She tapped a well-honed claw against her expertly painted lower lip. “Tucker.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re Lillian’s new find, aren’t you?” She closed in on him.
He took another step back and came up hard against the stone wall that fronted the rest-room entrance.
“There has been talk, but no one said anything about …” She shook her head and looked at him with what Tucker feared was renewed determination. Since she’d already proven she had more determination than the average school of piranhas, it was a scary thought.
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