Behind the Mask (MIRA)

by Metsy Hingle

  Bingo!

  Recognizing the honey-blond driver at the wheel of the vehicle, Michael started his engine. And when she turned into traffic, he shifted into Drive and followed her.

  Twenty minutes later, the little brown car turned onto a street in what appeared to be a modest section of the city. Most of the houses were small and single-storied. The yards were equally small, but the lawns were neatly trimmed and dotted with big oaks or magnolia trees. And nearly every house had rows of azalea bushes, thick with blooms in a range of pinks, reds, and white across the front or around the sides.

  When Lily pulled her car into the driveway of a little cottage in the middle of the next block, Michael hung back. Easing his truck to the curb, he parked behind an old Buick and shut off his engine. He watched as Lily exited her car and ran up the stairs. When the door opened and she disappeared inside, he slumped down in his seat and prepared to wait.

  While he waited, Michael found himself comparing the woman who called herself Lily to Elisabeth Webster. Like the woman in Ms. Schubert’s snapshot, there was a fragility about her. There was a softness, a subtle beauty that had been missing in the glamourous portrait in her husband’s office. She certainly didn’t look like a woman who would drug her husband and steal his kid.

  What he had trouble understanding was why the woman was working in a second-rate diner when she’d reportedly stolen a great deal of cash and jewelry? And why was she driving a beat-up car that looked as if it was on its last legs? If Elisabeth Webster was a gold digger, then why trade her plush life for this? It didn’t make sense.

  It didn’t need to make sense, Michael reminded himself. Just because a woman looked fragile didn’t mean that she was. Hadn’t he learned that lesson the hard way with Giselle? Whatever Elisabeth Webster’s problems were, they weren’t his concern. His only concern was to make sure that she had the kid and then bring them both back to Webster. Once he did that, he’d collect the rest of his fee, and somehow he’d convince Janie to let him help her and the boys. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to finally find some peace.

  Sitting in the truck, Michael kept his eyes trained on the door of the house Lily had entered. As the hours ticked by, the sun went down and the cold set in. He huddled in his jacket and debated about whether to go off and try to find some hot coffee, but decided against it. All he needed was to see the kid. Once he knew the boy was still with her, he could call Webster.

  At half past eight he decided that the lady was in for the night, and that he might as well head back to the hotel. He could come back early in the morning, and hopefully, he’d spot the boy then. Reaching for the key in the ignition, Michael was about to start the engine when the door opened and out walked Lily. Alone. When she slid behind the wheel of her car and backed out of the driveway, Michael started his truck and followed. A dozen blocks later she stopped in front of another house, this one a double.

  Parked halfway down the block on the opposite side of the street, Michael watched Lily climb the stairs up to the porch and enter one side of the house. He could see a red-and-white sign posted on the opposite door of the shared porch and suspected it was a For Rent or For Lease sign. Making a note to check it out later, he settled in and prepared to wait.

  Thirty minutes later, when the lights inside the house went out, Michael exited his truck and started down the walkway toward the now-dark house. Like the previous neighborhood where she had spent all afternoon and evening, this one appeared to be an older, residential section of the city. The houses seemed smaller. So did the yards. And the street was just as quiet. Only a scattering of lights glowed from the windows of the nearby homes. Several houses down, he heard the sound of a dog barking and a shout for it to be quiet.

  Michael paused in front of the house into which Lily had disappeared. As he’d suspected, the other half of the double was empty and the sign announced it was for rent. After making a mental note of the number to call, he leaned on the wrought-iron fence and pretended to have something inside his boot. While he made a show of shaking out his boot in case anyone was watching, he tried to make out the name on the mailbox. Even with only the dim light of the street lamp, he could read the name Tremont.

  Sliding his foot back inside the boot, Michael continued down the street. After circling the block, he returned to his truck and headed back to his hotel room to make some calls.

  “Well, look who’s back,” Gina said in her husky voice.

  Lily wasn’t sure how she knew, but she simply knew that the “he” Gina referred to was the man named Sullivan who’d been at the diner on Monday. For some reason, he had made a major impression on her co-workers and his name had come up several times since then.

  “Looks like you’ve got a customer, Lily,” Gina said, a teasing note in her voice.

  Lily looked up from the pot of coffee she’d been preparing for Wednesday’s lunch crowd. Sure enough, it was him, and he sat at one of her tables. “I don’t suppose you’d want to take his order for me, would you?”

  “No,” Gina said firmly but sweetly. “And don’t bother asking Amber,” Gina told her when she glanced around for the younger woman. “The girl’s got her hands full with that trucker she’s suddenly gone sweet on. We’re lucky she even handles her own tables. Go on, hon. He seemed like a nice guy to me and, you have to admit, he’s easy on the eyes.”

  Nancy Lee chose that moment to come through the doors of the kitchen. “Who’s easy on the eyes?”

  “The good-looking fellow seated over there by the window,” Gina said with a nod of her head toward the table. “He was in earlier this week. He’s from Texas. Said his name’s Michael Sullivan.”

  “My, my, they certainly do grow them big in Texas, don’t they?” Nancy Lee remarked. “And you said his name’s Sullivan?”

  “That’s what he says,” Gina replied.

  Nancy Lee’s stern expression softened. “Must be Irish then. Incredible lovers those Irishmen. Two of my husbands were Irish.” She cut her gaze to Lily. “He say or do something to offend you?”

  “No. Not at all,” Lily replied.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “There’s no problem,” Lily fibbed. The problem was that she couldn’t shake the feeling that Michael Sullivan wasn’t just a handsome offshore worker. Oh, she could buy the bit about his working offshore. Louisiana’s oil business attracted a lot of workers for the rigs. And the man had the sun-bronzed skin, the calloused palms and muscled build that could never be attained by working out in some sterile gym with a physical trainer. But there was something in those laser-sharp eyes of his—something dark and dangerous—that made her think he wasn’t quite the harmless cowboy he appeared to be.

  Or maybe she was just being paranoid, Lily told herself, wishing she didn’t feel the need to suspect everyone. Wishing she could just accept a man’s attention without worrying that he’d been sent by Adam to find her. But she couldn’t, she told herself. Not if she wanted to keep Timmy safe. Realizing that Nancy Lee and Gina were both looking at her, she grabbed a menu and a glass of water. “I’d better go take his order.”

  “Hey there.” He looked up from his newspaper and gave her one of those wicked smiles. “Lily, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” she said as she handed him the menu.

  When his fingers brushed hers, she snatched her hand back. Her stomach fluttered from the brief contact, and when his gaze met hers, it did nothing to ease her apprehension. There was a time when she might have enjoyed and welcomed these feelings of attraction he stirred in her. He certainly fit her schoolgirl image of Prince Charming. But that had been a lifetime ago. Before she’d gone to live with her mother. Before she’d become Adam’s ward and then his wife. Before she’d learned that a handsome face and friendly smile could mask evil.

  “Any specials today?” Michael asked.

  Yanking her thoughts back to the present, she said, “Stuffed pork chop, crawfish étouffée or beef stew. Each comes with a salad and May
’s special bread pudding with rum sauce for dessert.”

  “Any recommendations?”

  “They’re all good,” Lily told him.

  “What’s your favorite?”

  “I…The crawfish étouffée,” she confessed.

  “Then that’s what I’ll have.”

  He closed the menu and offered it to her. Taking care, she took it from him and tucked it under her arm. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Iced tea’s good.”

  After jotting down the order, she said, “I’ll be back with your salad and tea in a minute.”

  And ten minutes later, when she approached his table with his lunch order, Lily was relieved to see he was absorbed in working another crossword puzzle. Maybe she’d be able to serve him his meal and escape without any chitchat.

  No such luck. He looked up just as she reached his table and gave her another one of those knee-weakening grins. “Boy, does that smell good.”

  Lily placed the plate brimming with the thick red creole sauce and crawfish tails over a mound of steaming rice in front of him. She set the basket with hot bread in the center of the table. Scooping up the empty salad plate, she said, “Enjoy your meal.”

  “Whoa! Could I get a refill on the tea?” he asked, holding up the empty glass.

  “Sure,” she said, chastising herself for not offering in the first place. She cleared the next table and disposed of the dishes behind the counter while she lectured herself for her poor service and even poorer manners. Then she made her way back to Michael’s table with a pitcher of tea.

  To her surprise he’d really tucked into the étouffée and half the bread. As she poured his tea, she smiled. Michael Sullivan obviously wasn’t a man who was worried about his calorie intake, she thought. She couldn’t help recalling Adam’s obsession with keeping himself fit, his body tanned and an ample supply of Viagra on hand to enhance his performance in the bedroom. Realizing what she was doing—comparing Michael to Adam—Lily’s hand shook and she spilled tea on the table. “I’m so sorry. Your newspaper—”

  “Hey, it’s no problem,” he told her as he grabbed the napkin from his lap to help her wipe up the spill.

  As he dabbed at the mess, his fingers brushed against hers again. Awareness shot through her like a rocket and Lily jerked her eyes to Michael’s face. She recognized the heated look in his gaze and realized he’d felt it, too. Unsettled, she said, “I better go get some more napkins.”

  When she returned a few minutes later, she had regained her composure and Michael had finished his meal. “I’m sorry about the mess. Did I ruin your crossword?”

  “I was finished with it already. So no harm done.”

  Relieved, she nodded and began clearing away the remains of his meal. “You up for the bread pudding?” she asked.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Coffee with cream, one sugar, right?”

  He winked at her. “You remembered. Want to get married?”

  Lily paled.

  “Hey, I was only kidding.”

  “I know that,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips. She was being ridiculous, Lily told herself. The man was just trying to be friendly and here she was acting like some outraged virgin who’d been propositioned. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”

  By the time she returned to Michael’s table to bring him his check, she was over the worst of her embarrassment and feeling more like herself. She’d decided that she was going to swing by the library right after work and see if she could find out anything more about that agent who’d been killed in Miami. And, depending on what she discovered, maybe she could somehow use the disk to ensure her and Timmy’s safety.

  “This stuff is sinful,” Michael told her as he scooped the last of the rum sauce from the dish with his finger.

  “I know.” She’d never been big on sweets, but since moving to New Orleans, she’d discovered she adored them. She slid his check facedown on the table.

  “Lily, hang on a second.” He pushed the empty dish aside. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

  “I’ll try,” she said cautiously.

  “You think you could take a look at a couple of these places I’ve circled in the classifieds?” He shoved the folded paper toward her, and she noted he’d drawn circles around several boxes in the “for rent” section.

  “You’re looking for an apartment?” she asked, surprised since Gina had mentioned that he was just passing through.

  “I’m thinking about it. That is, if I can find a place that fits my budget. At the moment, I’m not working. But I heard through the grapevine that they’re going to be hiring workers for a couple of new offshore rigs next month. So I thought I’d stick around and see if I could get on,” he explained. “Only problem is, I’ve been staying in a hotel and apparently they jack up the rates when it gets close to Mardi Gras time. So I was thinking I might do better renting a place.”

  “Oh,” she said, realizing how inane that sounded. She also wasn’t sure why the idea of Michael being around for a while unsettled her. “So what is it you want me to help you with?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me about the areas where these places are located,” he said, indicating several circled ads. “You know, whether or not it’s a decent part of town. Or am I liable to get mugged going out to pick up the morning paper?”

  “I’m sorry. But I’m really not the right person to ask. I’m relatively new to the city myself. You might want to check with Gina or one of the other ladies. They’ve lived here a lot longer than I have.” Noting that Gina was clearing the next table, she called out to her and motioned her over.

  “What’s up?” Gina asked as she joined them at the table.

  “Mr. Sullivan needs some help,” Lily told her.

  “What can I do for you, Texas?”

  “Well, ma’am, as I explained to Lily, I’m hoping to get on with one of the oil rigs next month. So I’m thinking about moving out of the hotel I’m staying in and renting a place to save a few bucks. I found a few places in the classifieds I can afford, but I don’t have any idea about the areas.”

  While Gina scanned the ads he’d circled, Lily began loading his now-empty dessert dish and silverware onto her tray. As she listened to Gina rule out a couple of the possibilities, she couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for not mentioning that the other half of the double where she lived was available. It was a decent neighborhood. The rent was reasonable, and the landlady would gladly rent him the place. Yet the prospect of having Michael live next door made her more anxious than ever.

  “Sorry, pal,” Gina declared. “But I wouldn’t put my worst enemy or even that last SOB I was married to in one of these places.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse,” Gina said.

  Michael sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot. I guess I’ll just have to let the hotel gouge me with those Mardi Gras rates.”

  “Wait a minute,” Gina said as Lily started to walk away. “Lily, what about that double where you live? When I gave you a lift to work a couple of weeks ago, I noticed there was a For Rent sign in the other half. Is it still available?”

  Michael knew from Lily’s expression that she wasn’t at all happy that Gina had mentioned the place. He couldn’t help wondering why.

  “I’m not sure,” Lily replied, a weariness in her voice that matched the look in her eyes. “I mean, no one’s living there at the moment. But I don’t know whether Mrs. Davis has a tenant lined up for it or not.”

  He made the lady nervous, Michael realized. Since he’d been careful not to say anything that might tip her off, he didn’t think the nerves were because she suspected he was looking for her. Maybe he simply had enough of a male ego to want to believe it was because she was attracted to him. He hadn’t missed the awareness in those big green eyes of hers when his fingers had brushed hers. The first time, he’d written it off to wishful thinking. So today, he’d deliberately touched her again. T
hat darkening of her eyes, the slight tremor in her fingers, had told him that the sensual spark between them hadn’t been one-sided. What puzzled him was the genuine alarm her reaction seemed to strike in her. If he hadn’t known she’d been married to Webster, who’d apparently taken pleasure in showing off her assets, he’d have sworn the lady was gun-shy around men. “Can you find out?” Michael asked.

  “I suppose so. But I doubt it’s the kind of place you’re looking for,” she told him.

  “It looked fine to me,” Gina countered.

  “What I mean is it’s not an apartment. It’s a house. What they call a shotgun double down here,” she explained to him. “But it’s a pretty quiet neighborhood, mostly families and retired couples. You’d probably find it stuffy.”

  She positively didn’t want him next door, Michael decided. “I don’t know. It sounds pretty nice to me. Unless you object to the idea of me as a neighbor, I’d like to check it out.”

  “Now, why would Lily object to having you for a neighbor?” Gina said, a hint of mischief in her dark eyes.

  “Because she doesn’t know me,” Michael said, offering the obvious. “But I can assure you that I’m trustworthy. I help little old ladies cross the street and I like animals. And if you want references, I’ll give you my mother’s phone number,” he told her with a smile, determined to win Lily over. “She’ll vouch for my good character.”

  Both Gina and Lily laughed at the absurdity of his remark—just as he’d intended.

  What he hadn’t intended, what he hadn’t been at all prepared for, was the effect Lily’s laughter had on him. His gut tightened at the picture she made. That unmistakable thrum of desire that he’d been fighting from the moment he’d set eyes on her exploded like wildfire in his veins. “You know, your eyes light up when you laugh,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “You really should do it more often.”

  Lily immediately tensed up again, and Michael could have kicked himself for the remark. “I…thank you,” she murmured, the laughter dying on her lips and in her eyes.

  “Boy, did that ever sound like a line,” he joked. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”