by J. P. Lane
Lauren followed Virginia dutifully as she floated over to her prized possession, a Bosendorfer piano. Not suspecting the piano was merely a showpiece, Lauren asked, “Do you play?”
Virginia stroked the piano fondly. “Yes, I play a little, but my playing is hardly worthy of this magnificent piece. It takes two and a half years just to season the wood. Franz Liszt played on one of these, you know.”
Feigning rapturous admiration, Lauren moved closer. “My goodness, it’s beautiful. What make did you say it is?”
Virginia shot her a disdainful look. “It’s a 1927 Bosendorfer, dear. Let me tell you, it cost a pretty penny. Gordon would kill me if he knew how much I spent on it.”
A caustic remark was on the tip of Lauren’s tongue, but she restrained herself. Instead, she astutely paid the piano lip service. “Well, you can tell it must cost a fortune. It’s absolutely beautiful,” she gushed taking a mental note of the make.
“Who is expected at your party this evening, Mrs. Matthews?” she asked getting to the business at hand.
“Oh, the usual suspects,” Virginia answered chirpily as she moved on to a Ming vase acquired during a trip to Singapore. “With the exception of the Prime Minister,” she added. “He sent his regrets. I don’t know what’s up with Erick these days. If his social profile gets any lower, he’ll disappear altogether.”
Lauren sized Virginia up. Like Logan, she was tall and good looking. And as Lauren would have expected, she was elegantly put together. However, Virginia seemed worlds apart from her brother. From what Lauren had learned, Logan leaned towards a comparatively simple existence when allowed such a luxury. Virginia, on the other hand, seemed inordinately materialistic. “Oh my goodness, it’s almost six,” Virginia said glancing at her watch. “Better go and greet my guests. Come, let me get you something to drink. You must be dying of thirst after that long drive.”
Lauren stood alone on the lawn sipping a Coke. She had been at Vale Verde for at least half an hour and had yet to have the pleasure of meeting Gordon Matthews. He was nowhere to be seen. However, she was confident he had to show at some time. While on the lookout for Gordon with one eye, she watched the first of the guests arrive with the other. In no time, the garden was filled with people. She was taking stock of the guests when she spotted a vaguely familiar face ambling in her direction.
“It’s Lauren isn’t it?” Mike beamed as he approached her.
Lauren gave him an uncertain look.
“We met at a party in South Beach some time ago,” Mike reminded her.
Lauren still couldn’t recall meeting him, but she decided to fudge it for the sake of being polite. “That’s right, how are you?” she exclaimed, hoping she sounded genuine.
“Good, thank you,” Mike answered, none the wiser that she hadn’t a clue who he was. “I wouldn’t have imagined running into you here.”
“And why is that?” Lauren bristled.
“I didn’t mean that in any way,” Mike explained in a hasty attempt to extricate himself from his faux pas. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you at any of Virginia’s parties.”
“Are you invited to all Virginia’s parties?” Lauren retorted coolly.
“Pretty much. I’m a close friend – of the family I mean.”
Lauren caught a flicker she was only too familiar with. She quickly snuffed it out. “I see,” she said. “Well, I’m not a guest. I’m working here tonight.”
“Working?” Mike asked surprised.
“Yes, I’m covering the party for the News.”
Just then, Lauren spotted Gordon talking with the Minister of National Security and Defense. Eager to nab her quarry, she excused herself and rushed off, weaving through the crowd to where Gordon and the minister were deep in conversation.
Frank Sterling put a halt to the conversation as he saw Lauren approaching. “I see my nemesis heading towards us. What’s she doing here? I didn’t know you knew her.”
“Who are you talking about?” Gordon asked, scanning the guests in closest proximity.
Sterling indicated Lauren with a pointed glance. “Lauren Anderson.”
“No, I don’t know her. But I would certainly like to,” Gordon added, eyeing Lauren as she sashayed over to them, her wisp of a skirt fluttering above a perfect pair of calves. Sterling caught Gordon’s lascivious look and laughed. “Just don’t forget there’s a piranha lurking in that pretty package, Gordon.”
Lauren arrived with a dazzling smile aimed directly at the wary minister. She spent a few minutes giving Frank Sterling his due before she finally turned to Gordon. “Mr. Matthews,” she smiled extending her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lauren Anderson from Island Daily News. I’m here covering your party at the invitation of your charming wife. I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes while I’m here.”
Gordon Matthews’ shrewd eyes surveyed Lauren. “I can’t help shuddering at the prospect of you wanting a word with me, Miss Anderson,” he smiled dryly.
“It’s absolutely innocent, I promise,” Lauren smiled coyly. “It’s just that I had the rare opportunity of an interview with your brother-in-law, and I thought this would be a good chance to get another perspective on the family from you and Mrs. Matthews.”
“In that case, Miss Anderson, I would go straight to the source if I were you. Nothing my wife enjoys more than talking about her family.”
Lauren realized she had been thoroughly trumped, but she quickly recovered her composure. Hours lay ahead, during which she could return to Gordon Matthews. Hopefully by then, he would be more open to talking with her. He had been engrossed in conversation with Frank Sterling. No doubt her timing had been bad. She decided it was time for a break. In any case, it was getting noisy. The band had begun to play and couples had started drifting onto the makeshift dance floor on the lawn. As she made her escape from the hub of the party, it dawned on her she still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Logan Armstrong.
The sound of water rippling over rocks greeted Lauren’s ears as she wondered through the garden. Curious as to the source, she followed the sound to a lush jungle of tropical plants at the far end of the lawn. Assuming she had come upon a swimming pool, she made her way around the impenetrable wall of foliage. There before her was a fern-draped waterfall splashing into a large natural pool filled with koi of every color. Lauren walked over to the edge and stood gazing into the crystalline water.
“So, did you get what you were after?” a voice asked out of the shadows.
Lauren peered into the semi-darkness, her heart thumping. Then she saw him. He was perched on a rock on the other side of the pond, his face hardly visible.
Flustered by the unexpected encounter, she stumbled over her words. “I didn’t mean to intrude, Mr. Armstrong. I didn’t think anyone would be here.”
“Of course you aren’t intruding. You can sit over here and enjoy the pond if you like. It’s more comfortable than it looks. Besides, it’s the only place to sit.”
Lauren hesitated. Then she made her way around the pond. She sat on the rock, careful to keep a circumspect distance. “I didn’t see you anywhere,” she confessed with a cautious sideward glance.
Logan shifted closer bridging the gap she had carefully created.
“Well, it’s hard to find anybody in that mob. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Virginia’s into gala events. The bigger the better for her. Personally, I think quiet evenings with those near and dear are much more enjoyable.”
Lauren wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. It seemed any comment was better left unsaid.
“No camera this evening?” he jested.
She patted her purse. “Never leave home without it. It’s my nearest and dearest companion.”
“How do you fit a camera into that little thing?” he asked, observing her smaller than petite evening purse.
She slipped her camera from the purse. “It’s really not that big, see?”
“Amazing how small they make cameras
these days. I don’t own one myself.”
“You don’t have a camera, Mr. Armstrong?”
“Just never got around to buying one. Please call me Logan. Mr. Armstrong sounds so formal. Nobody calls me Mr. Armstrong… except my executive assistant.” He grinned mischievously as he added, “Let’s just say Jenny is a bit on the old-fashioned side.”
“Okay, I’ll call you Logan if you insist,” Lauren agreed with a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of being old-fashioned.”
For a fleeting moment he searched her eyes. “I doubt you’re old-fashioned,” he smiled. “Know what? I suspect you’re here because you wanted to get away from the crush, but I haven’t had anything to drink yet. And I see you don’t have a glass. How about a drink?”
They had gone but a few yards toward the bar when Logan bumped into someone accidentally. The man turned and on seeing Logan remarked, “Imagine running into you here.”
Logan made a face. “Obligatory appearance,” he muttered.
Allan Harvey gave Logan a knowing smile. He glanced at Lauren with open curiosity.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’ve never met,” Logan apologized, hastily introducing her to the Deputy Prime Minister.
Allan Harvey’s look was unfathomable as he took Lauren’s hand and said, “I read your columns regularly. They certainly give a person a lot to think about.”
“No doubt the interview she just did with me will give you even more to think about,” Logan told him.
Allan Harvey’s eyes moved swiftly from Logan’s face to Lauren’s and then back to Logan’s. Seeing his point had been taken, Logan deftly changed the subject. “Just arrived?” he asked Allan.
“Yes, looks like quite a party.”
Logan grunted.
Allan slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. “I know you’re being stretched beyond your endurance, my friend, but count your blessings your penance won’t last for eternity.”
Now where does he fit into the grand scheme of things, Lauren mused as she and Logan started towards the bar again. Was Allan Harvey also involved in the shady business at the port? Was Frank Sterling? Sterling and Gordon Matthews seemed tight. And what about Logan? Was he in the dark, or was he part of it? Lauren had a strong suspicion all the players were in place, right there at Virginia Matthews’ party of the year.
“I had no idea you knew Allan Harvey well,” she ventured casually.
“We’ve been friends since we were boys. Our fathers were close friends.”
“I didn’t know that,” Lauren murmured thoughtfully.
“Do you really think you can find out everything about me in one interview?” Logan teased. He took her arm as they finally got to the bar. “What would you like?” he asked before easing his way to the front.
“A vodka tonic please.”
Virginia was observing keenly as Logan emerged from the crowd surrounding the bar and handed Lauren a drink. They were laughing together in a way that drew her attention. Logan’s eyes were lit up. Lauren was glowing back at him. Unable to resist yanking her chain, Logan was asking, “So, anything further on the McGuire case?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’d intended to tell you about that.” Lauren said glibly.
“You did, uh?” Logan retorted unconvinced.
“Of course I did,” she insisted with a staged wounded look.
Logan threw back his head and laughed. “You’re a piece of work, do you know that? Who do you think you’re fooling?”
“Would I attempt to try to fool a man of your intelligence, Logan?”
The laughter swiftly left his eyes. “I don’t think intelligence has anything to do with it, Lauren. It’s simply a matter of who knows what.”
He could see the wheels turning. He had her where he wanted her. But was that really true, he asked himself. Mike was right. She was gorgeous. But her beauty ran deep. It was her energy, her laugh, the way she was looking at him now, that agile mind of hers going a mile a minute. He wondered if she was attached. “Why don’t we find somewhere quiet where we can at least hear each other?” he suggested.
They headed toward the veranda where they found themselves alone.
“I smell night blooming jasmine,” Lauren sniffed as they sat.
“No pun intended, but you have a nose,” Logan half smiled.
Lauren shot him a questioning look.
“I noticed you pouncing on your prey earlier,” he clarified.
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean I saw you having a little chat with my brother-in-law.”
Lauren went silent. What had Logan observed to give him even the slightest hint of her intentions, she wondered. “What’s so unusual about that?” she asked guardedly. “He’s the host and I’m here to cover the party.”
Their eyes met.
“Is that all you’re here for, Lauren?”
“But of course. Why else would I be here? I’m not sure I’m catching your drift.”
“Lauren, let’s not play games any longer. I find it highly unlikely an investigative reporter would be interested in doing a story about me, or covering a party. It’s a waste of your time, not to mention your talent. So my question is what are you really after?”
Any further pretense at innocence was futile, Lauren realized. She weighed the situation. There really was no reason to believe Logan Armstrong was involved in the business at the port, but at the same time, you couldn’t vouch for anyone. With carefully chosen words she finally responded, “There’s more going on in this country than meets the eye, Logan. As an investigative reporter, my job is to find out as much as I can by whatever means I can. Every bit of information counts, no matter how insignificant it may seem on the surface. It’s just a matter of time before you find what you’re looking for. I can’t disclose what I’m looking for. I can only tell you I intend to find it.”
Logan was unable to mask his disconcertion. Before he could recover his equanimity, she took aim. “Now I have a question for you,” she said. “Why are you so interested in the McGuire case? Seeing you claim not to have known the McGuires well, I find your interest in their murders unusual. So what are you after, Mr. Armstrong.
NINE
Restless and sleepless, Virginia followed the trail of a firefly as it darted up the wall and across the ceiling, its pulsating glow marking its nocturnal journey around the bedroom. She was bone tired after the party, but sleep nevertheless evaded her. The party had eventually come to an end after 2:00 a.m. when the last guests, the die-hard party animals, had finally drifted off to their cars, their exuberant laughter and chatter ringing out in the stillness of the country night. She glanced sideways at Gordon who was already sleeping like a log. How she envied his ability to be out like a light no sooner than his head hit the pillow. He had always been like that. She turned and checked the clock knowing full well that was the worst thing to do when insomnia had her in its grip.
As much as she fought to close the door, thoughts of Mike kept coming at her, a profusion of images bringing back long-forgotten feelings that had been safely buried in the life with Gordon she had chosen. She wasn’t sorry she had made that choice. She had a caring husband, everything a woman could want, except what she’d had with Mike. But even as early as nineteen years old, she had been level headed enough to realize Mike could never be the man for her. His appetite for variety, even from a young age, was far too great to be confined by a monogamous relationship. The fact was, she mused, you couldn’t have it all. You were fooling yourself if you thought you could. Life was a trade-off. It was just a matter of deciding what was most important to you.
She closed her eyes and gazed into her inner night, Mike’s body drifting in and out of her consciousness. Now, he was on top of her once again, her fingers running down the contour of his back, his hardened buttocks rising and falling as he plunged into her, driving her to orgasm. Oh shit he was so good, she had forgotten. His full, sensual lips were now devouring hers, hi
s tongue swirling around hers while his hands reached under her, pulling her to him as she groaned with every thrust. “Tell me you love it, baby,” he breathed in her ear as he started moving like a piston, her body bobbing like a rag doll under him. “I love it, I love it. Take me, take me,” she cried, hardly able to breath.
Cautiously, she turned and looked at Gordon. Certain he was in a deep sleep, she slipped her hand down to where she was now moist. Once again, her breath quickened as Mike looked into her eyes, reading her, playing her like a guitar until she sang. Then her body arched in spasms and she climaxed as if she would never stop.
She rolled over on her side, now relaxed as a leaf floating on the river. Her thoughts floated to her brother. He’d never settled back down after the divorce. She assumed he must date someone, but didn’t know whom. He kept that part of his life to himself, and him being in New York most of the time, she knew nothing about his personal life. Careful not to wake Gordon, she pulled the sheet around her thinking about her plan. Surprisingly, she had managed to twist Logan’s arm into staying on for brunch. Lauren hadn’t been quite as easy to coerce. Virginia had tried every method of persuasion, including expressing her concern over Lauren’s long drive back to the city alone at so late an hour. Even with that, Lauren hadn’t budged. It wasn’t until Virginia had suggested Island Daily News might want to do an article about the estate that Lauren’s reluctance to spend the night flew out the window. Virginia smiled. She could hardly wait until morning.