Behind the Mask (MIRA)

by Metsy Hingle

  “A little over a thousand dollars.”

  “And I have about twenty-five hundred. That should be enough.”

  “Enough for what?” she asked.

  “To grease a few palms and get us a room in one of the swank hotels during the big Mardi Gras festivities.”

  “Okay, we’ve got a room.” Michael joined her on the seawall, where she’d been staring out at the boats on the lake while he’d retreated to the quiet of the car to search for a hotel room.

  The wind whipped the hair around her face, and she held it away from her eyes to look up at him. “Where?”

  “The Saint Charles Court.”

  At the mention of one of the city’s finest hotels she arched her eyebrow. With hotel rooms at a premium, as well as a four-day minimum stay during the long Mardi Gras weekend, she knew he’d had a battle on his hands even getting a second-rate room. “Should I even ask how many Texas oil wells you had to promise for that?”

  He sat down beside her. “You don’t think my charm was enough to get us a room?”

  The truth was, the man could probably charm the skin off a snake. But then Adam had been charming, too, she remembered. Realizing what she was doing, she shook off the thought. “I’m saying I’m almost afraid to ask how much it cost.”

  “Six hundred bucks a night.”

  Lily’s eyes widened. “Six hundred?”

  He nodded. “Plus I owe a reservation clerk named Dennis another hundred bucks for ‘finding’ a free room. Check-in time is not for another couple of hours. That should give us time to buy me a change of clothes and a couple of costumes to use for tomorrow.”

  “I know someone who owns a boutique that carries costumes. His name’s Ricardo. He’s a customer at the diner. He was in a couple weeks ago and offered to let us get our costumes at half-price.”

  “Good, then we’ll make him our first stop.” He stood, held out his hand. “Ready?”

  He helped her to her feet. And as they walked to the car, she kept thinking about the plan he’d described to her. He claimed the old adage was true. The best place to hide something or, in their case, someone, was to hide them in plain sight. When he opened the passenger door for her, she paused and looked up at him. “Michael, do you really think this plan of yours will work?”

  “Oh ye of little faith. Didn’t you ever hear that old story? The one about the cop in a border town who knew this old guy who kept driving trucks across the border every day was smuggling something, but every time he stopped the guy and checked the truck from top to bottom, he couldn’t find a thing. All the man had in the truck was a couple of chairs that he had receipts for.”

  “I guess I must have missed that one,” Lily said, unable to believe she was standing here at the lakefront with Michael this way. The place was evidently a popular spot for lovers, given the number of couples she’d spotted holding hands or kissing since they’d arrived. She’d never been on a date, had never been with another man besides Adam. To be here now with Michael so close and looking at her with such warmth—it made her feel like…like a schoolgirl, she thought.

  Michael tapped her nose with his finger. “Pay attention,” he said. “I’m trying to make my point here.”

  “Sorry. So the man was really stealing the chairs?”

  “No. He was stealing the trucks. The border-patrol cop was so busy looking for what was hidden inside the truck that he never looked closely at the trucks themselves. The man wasn’t stealing the chairs. He was stealing the trucks.”

  “So you’re saying that Adam will expect us to try to hide, and by not hiding and making ourselves part of the Mardi Gras mob scene, he won’t see us.”

  “Smart, as well as beautiful,” Michael said, and kissed her firmly on the mouth.

  When he lifted his head, it took her a moment to focus. Embarrassed by her response, she slipped into the passenger seat and Michael closed her door. After he got in the car, she asked, “So can we call Gertie now and tell her we’re on our way to pick up Timmy?”

  Michael’s expression sobered. “I think it would be better for Timmy if he stayed put for now.”

  “No. I won’t leave my baby. I—”

  “Lily.” He said her name in that deep authoritative tone. “My father will be there in a few hours. He’ll keep him safe until we can pick him up. I’m just not sure it would be safe for him to be with us right now.”

  “But—”

  “Think about it. It will be a lot easier for Webster to find you if he’s looking for a woman with a child. It’s only until I can get the two of you out of the city. I’ve already made arrangements for you and Timmy to stay with a friend of mine.”

  That came as a surprise to her. “Who? Where?”

  “Remember my friend Janie I told you about? The one with two little boys?”

  She nodded. “The woman who was married to your partner, the policeman who was killed in some kind of drug bust?”

  “Yeah,” he said, a haunted look coming into his eyes. “Janie is…was Pete’s wife. She and her boys have just moved to Oklahoma, where she has family. Anyway, I’ve asked her to let you and Timmy stay with her for a while. At least until this mess with Webster is over with.”

  “And she agreed?” Lily replied, surprised at the suggestion.

  “Yes.”

  “But she doesn’t even know me.”

  “She does know me. And, she knows a little about you.”

  “She does?”

  “She knows you’re important to me.”

  Lily swallowed, unsure of what to say, not sure what to make of all these feelings she had for this man. She’d known Michael for such a short time, and yet here he was risking himself for her and Timmy. It made her feel all the more guilty for not having told him about the disk she’d taken from Adam’s safe.

  “So, will you trust me on this? Leave Timmy with your friend Gertie until my father can get to them and it’s safe for us to go?”

  She debated again whether or not to tell him about the disk, and decided against it. As a former cop, and a man who’d lost his partner in a foiled bust, he would want to turn it over to the authorities. And despite everything Michael had done, and was doing, to help her, she couldn’t take the risk. She couldn’t gamble on trusting him with the disk—not when Timmy’s life was at stake. “All right,” she told him. “We’ll do it your way for now.”

  He reached for her hand, kissed her fingers and then squeezed them. “I won’t let you down. Now tell me where this guy Richard’s shop is.”

  “It’s Ricardo’s and it’s on Saint Charles Avenue.”

  “Ricardo’s?” he repeated as he started the car. “Sounds expensive.”

  It was expensive, Lily realized the moment she entered the shop. No woman could have been married to a man like Adam Webster for seven years and not be able to recognize genuine antiques, priceless chandeliers and silk-moiré wall coverings when she saw them. The Baccarat vases filled with out-of-season blooms alone were worth a small fortune. The champagne being served was a vintage Moet Chandon. And those were just the decorations. One look at the beaded and sequined gowns, the elaborate feathered masks and the Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo pumps and she knew that even at cost, she and Michael couldn’t afford to buy a thing. The place was filled with customers of both the female and female-wanna-be gender, all of whom were grabbing things from the racks as if it was a fire sale.

  “Your friend has some interesting clientele,” Michael commented as they watched a six-foot brunette with an Adam’s apple try on a Carmen Miranda–type headpiece.

  “Yes, he does.”

  “Say, what do you think about this one?” Michael asked, holding up a leather outfit with a breastplate and sword that resembled the one worn by the TV actress who had starred as Xena the Warrior Princess.

  “I don’t think it would look good on either of us. In fact, I don’t think we’re going to be able to find anything at all here,” she told him, wanting to leave the place before Ricardo saw
her. “Maybe we should try one of the thrift stores or a Wal-Mart. I’m sure they have costumes.”

  “Lily,” Ricardo called out, and Lily realized she’d left things too late as he hurried over to her with both arms outstretched. “Lily, darling, it is you.” He kissed one cheek and then the other. “I’m so glad you decided to come after all.”

  “Hello, Ricardo,” she said, wondering how she was going to get out of there.

  “Darling, introduce me to your friend.”

  “Ricardo, this is Michael Sullivan. Michael, this is Ricardo…” She flushed. “I’m sorry, Ricardo. I don’t know your last name.”

  “That is because I am like Cher. Only one name is necessary,” he declared. “It is so nice to meet one of Lily’s friends.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Michael told him.

  “Well, I am afraid the two of you have left it a bit late for a costume. Mardi Gras is tomorrow, and, as you can see, the shop has been very busy.”

  “And we really don’t want to take up any more of your time,” Lily said.

  “You already have a costume for tomorrow’s big celebration?”

  “Well, no.” Lily took a deep breath and decided it was best to be honest. “I’m sorry, Ricardo, but I don’t think we can afford any of the costumes you have in here.”

  Ricardo waved away her objection. “You will come in the back, have some champagne, and we will see what we can do for you.”

  “But—”

  “What is it with you Americans? Always with the ‘but.’ Phoebe,” he called to an exotic-looking creature wearing a pink feather boa. “Bring me the Cleopatra outfit—the size six we special ordered for Mrs. St. Claire that she said was missized.” He leaned over and said in a stage whisper, “The lady actually wears a ten, but insisted we order a six.”

  He led them into a back room where there were no other customers. Ricardo flicked a switch and Enya’s haunting voice came on. By the time he’d offered them each a glass of champagne, Phoebe came in with an ivory and gold box with the name Ricardo’s embossed in script across the front. “Thank you, my dear,” he said to the woman, and when she exited, he removed the lid on the box. He dug through layers of creamy tissue and removed a flowing white silk dress and gold filigree ropelike belt. “Ah, this should fit you perfectly.”

  “Ricardo, I don’t think—”

  “No need to think. Just slip behind the dressing screen over there and put it on. I’ll get the shoes and the wig.”

  Lily put on the dress. The simplicity of the style and cut suited her, and the costume fit as if it had been made for her. By the time Ricardo had outfitted her in the stark black wig, the gold headpiece and bracelets for her upper arms, and had then rimmed her eyes in kohl and applied a berry color to her lips, she was squirming in the chair. Having Michael observe the transformation did nothing to ease her nerves.

  “Perfect,” Ricardo said after finishing her lashes with black mascara. “Go look in the mirror, and tell Ricardo what you think.”

  Lily walked over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. The woman looking back at her didn’t resemble her at all. She touched her face, just to make sure the striking woman was actually her.

  “The transformation is amazing, is it not?”

  “Yes, it is,” she whispered.

  “With those eyes, your skin and bone structure, I was sure you would make a wonderful Cleopatra. And as usual, I was right. You are now every bit as beautiful as Taylor was in the film. Don’t you agree, Mr. Sullivan?”

  “No,” Michael said, all serious as his eyes met hers in the mirror. “She’s more beautiful than Liz Taylor ever was.”

  Lily flushed with pleasure and excitement as Michael looked at her. He wanted her. She had seen desire in a man’s eyes often enough to recognize it. She had seen it come into Adam’s eyes each time he’d looked at her, each time he’d possessed her. Yet there was more than desire in the way that Michael looked at her now. There was an admiration, a caring that made her feel like a person and not simply a sexual possession to be flaunted and conquered. And just as it had when he’d kissed her, she could feel that liquid heat stirring inside her belly again.

  “You are pleased with your costume, yes?”

  His question jarred Lily’s thoughts back to her reason for needing the costume in the first place—as a means to escape Adam. “Oh yes. I’m very pleased. It’s a wonderful costume, Ricardo. But I’m sure I can’t afford it.”

  “It is my gift.”

  “But I can’t accept this.”

  “You insult Ricardo by refusing his gift?”

  “No, but, I—”

  “Then it is done. Besides, it was a special order and nonreturnable. The loss is a small one. But I will allow you to pay me for the makeup, as you must have the makeup for the costume to work properly.”

  “All right,” Lily said, feeling she had truly struck a wonderful bargain.

  “And you, Mr. Sullivan. Shall I try to dress you as Marc Antony? I think I have a Roman costume that will fit you. A forty-four long, yes?”

  “That’s right, but—

  “There is that word again,” Ricardo said dramatically.

  “A Roman outfit means a skirt, right? I’m not wearing a skirt.”

  Ricardo tapped his finger against his lips a moment. “What did you think of Russell Crowe in Gladiator? Did you think he looked feminine?”

  Michael eyed Ricardo as though he suspected it was a trick question. “No.”

  “Then perhaps I can persuade you to go as a Roman gladiator. The costume I have in mind is perfect for a man with your body,” Ricardo said, walking around Michael as though imagining him donned in the garb. “Yes, with your coloring and that fierce look on your face, it will be perfect.”

  “I don’t think so,” Michael began.

  “We’ll take it,” Lily said, jumping in before Michael could refuse the man’s offer. “But we’re pressed for time, so could you just box it up, along with the other things?”

  Fourteen

  “You don’t think people are going to find Cleopatra paired up with a cowboy a little strange?” Lily asked him after they left the thrift shop where he’d purchased himself another pair of jeans, shirt, chaps and a cowboy hat.

  Michael adjusted the Stetson on his head. “Have you ever seen some of those getups people wear for Mardi Gras?”

  Lily shook her head.

  “Trust me, no one will notice.”

  “But it’s such a shame to let that gladiator costume go to waste.”

  “Forget it. There’s no way I’m running around in an outfit with a skirt,” Michael told her.

  “Russell Crowe didn’t seem to mind.”

  “He’s not from Texas,” Michael pointed out, pleased to hear the teasing note in her voice. At least the costume excursion had helped to divert her thoughts from Webster.

  After stowing their purchases in the trunk, he opened the car door for her, then walked around and got behind the wheel. “I want to make one more stop and pick up a new cell phone, and then we’ll head to the hotel.”

  “Is something wrong with your phone?”

  “I left the charger in my hotel room and the battery’s running low,” he said, not wanting to tell her that he didn’t want to chance Webster being able to use the cell number to track their movements. “It’ll just be easier to buy a new one.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not really the reason, is it? You think if Adam got your name from running the plates on your truck that he might be able to find us by your cell phone number.”

  “Yes,” Michael admitted. “It’s a long shot. He would need some pretty good connections to get the call logs for my cell and it would take time, but I’d rather we play it safe.”

  “Then why the lie? Why not just tell me the truth?”

  “Because I didn’t want to frighten you,” he confessed.

  “You mean you didn’t want to frighten me any more than I already am, d
on’t you?”

  He nodded.

  Her lips thinned. “Just because I’m afraid doesn’t mean that I’m stupid. I can understand how you would think that, given some of the foolish decisions I’ve made in my life, but I’m not stupid. And being afraid doesn’t mean that I won’t do whatever I have to do in order to protect my son. Because I will.”

  He touched her face. “I don’t think you’re stupid. And you don’t have to convince me that you’re brave, Lily. I know you are. Hell, considering all that you’ve been through, I think you’re probably one of the smartest and bravest women I’ve ever met,” he told her, meaning every word. “I’m sorry if it seemed otherwise.”

  She nodded. “I don’t need you to protect me from things, Michael. I need to know what’s going on so that I’m prepared. All right?”

  “All right.”

  But much to his regret, the lightness of a few moments ago was gone and showed no signs of returning. Even after they’d checked into the hotel, Lily remained somber, preoccupied. And though she’d gone along with them posing as a married couple at the check-in, he suspected she hadn’t liked the idea. He also knew from the way she’d been eyeing a toddler in the hotel lobby that she was missing her son.

  “Do you think it will be safe for me to tell Gertie where we are?” she asked as they exited the elevator on the tenth floor and headed down the hall to their room.

  He paused in front of the door and looked at her. “Go ahead. And give her the new cell number, too.” Michael slid the key card into the door. The green light flashed on, and he held the door open for Lily to precede him.

  He followed inside, carrying their packages and a small suitcase. While the room boasted thick, silvery carpet, fresh flowers and what he suspected were antiques, there was only one bed. A king-size four-poster with one of those ruffled skirts at the bottom and a pretty duvet in a shiny pale blue, pewter and ivory design. Piles of pillows had been bunched up at the head of the bed. Nightstands with delicate-looking lamps sat on either side. An armoire, which he suspected housed a television set and storage space, took up one wall. A wet bar and a grouping with two chairs, a love seat and a coffee table filled the other half of the room. “Not a lot for six hundred bucks a night, is it?” he remarked as he set down their things, then closed and bolted the door.