"Tell me who Ms. M is."
Eddie shook his head. "We've already had this conversation. How the hell am I supposed to know who she is? She wouldn't tell me."
"Why didn't you demand to know?"
"I already told you. She's paying us a lot of money."
"Don't PIs have standards?"
He made a brr-rap sound with his lips. "Just 'cause I can't bother with rules doesn't mean I don't have standards. Hell, you're not even legit."
"What do you mean?"
"You don't have a PI license. I should have registered you as my intern, but who has time for that?"
"You should have made time."
"I hired you to save time, cuz."
"By cutting corners, you could have put Grady in danger. What if our client wants to hurt him?"
"So that's what this is all about." His eyes narrowed. "You've got a thing for the subject. I thought as much that night we followed him."
"I'm not up for a lecture from you, Eddie," Tori said tightly. "Just answer the question."
"About Ms. M wanting to hurt the subject? Aw, come on. You've seen her. She's an old lady, well preserved but still an old lady."
"There's more than one way to harm somebody," Tori said. "I want to know who she is and what her motives are."
"Like I said, I don't know," Eddie said.
Flattery, Tori figured, could get her somewhere. "A private investigator as good as you must have ways of finding out."
"Of course I have ways."
"Tell me what they are."
Eddie sighed. "If I tell you, will you promise to go away and leave me alone?"
"I promise," Tori said readily.
"Tell her you won't give her any information until you have her real name and motive for investigating him," Eddie said. "That's it. Goodbye."
"That's too simple," Tori said. "Don't I need to follow her or have her license plate run or—"
"You've been watching too many movies, Tor. Sometimes the simplest way is the best. Set up a meeting and ask her."
***
TORI WAITED IMPATIENTLY on a park bench adjacent to a playground between the monkey bars and a man-made lake.
Ms. M had been agreeable to meeting but had insisted upon picking the place. She'd specified not only the county park, but an exact location within the park.
“You don't need me to tell you that details are important when you're on a case, Jane,” she'd said.
Tori wished Ms. M had anticipated the tiny detail that the bench she'd chosen was in full sun. With the temperature hovering near eighty, Tori would have roasted if she hadn't chosen a summery ensemble of a khaki miniskirt, sandals and a short-sleeved cotton shirt.
It seemed everybody in the park had dressed for warm weather — one leggy little girl even wore a bathing suit — except the woman striding across the grassy open area straight for the bench.
Her outfit consisted of a black blouse, black pants and oversized black sunglasses. The high heels of her black shoes sunk into the earth as she walked.
Who on earth would dress like that to come to a park?, Tori thought an instant before she recognized the woman.
Ah, of course. Ms. M.
"Isn't this the perfect place for a clandestine meeting?" Ms. M asked in a stage whisper when she reached her. "Who's going to pay attention to two women meeting in a park?"
Oblivious to the stares she still attracted, she sat down on the bench and angled her body toward Tori's. "Fill me in. I've been dying to find out what you have for me."
Would she use that information to ruin Grady? Tori didn't think so but she couldn't take the chance.
"That's why I wanted to meet," Tori said. "I can't tell you anything until I know who you are and why you wanted Grady investigated."
"Impossible." Ms. M swept the air with the flat of her hand. "That's not how the deal works."
"You had the deal with Eddie, not with me," Tori said. "I won't take the chance that you're conspiring against Grady."
"I love intrigue and conspiracy as much as the next woman, Jane," Ms. M said, "but what are you talking about?"
"Let me rephrase. How do I know you don't intend to use what I've found out about Grady against him?"
Tori couldn't read the expression in Ms. M's eyes because of the dark glasses. She did see the other woman's mouth twist. "Why would I do that?"
"You tell me," Tori said. "It would help if I knew why you wanted him investigated."
"I already told you. I need to find out if he's a good man," Ms. M said evasively.
"What you actually want is for him to be a bad man, isn't it? Then you'll use his goodness against him."
"I'm not following."
"Yet you were perfectly willing to hire me to follow him," Tori said. "I can't let you harm Grady, Ms. M."
"Harm him! I have no intention of harming him. And why do you keep calling him Grady? Aren't you PIs supposed to refer to the people you have under investigation as subjects?"
"That's not the point," Tori said.
"Oh, yes it is. I think I've figured it out. I knew you'd made contact with the subject. I didn't realize until now it was close contact." Ms. M slipped off her sunglasses and looked Tori straight in the eyes. Hers were the exact color of Grady's, Tori realized. "You've fallen in love with him, haven't you?"
Tori glanced away, not wanting Ms. M to read the truth on her face. "How I feel about Grady is immaterial."
"I wouldn't say that," Ms. M said thoughtfully. "I hired you to investigate the subject's character. I doubt you'd have fallen in love with him if he wasn't a good man."
Tori panicked. Grady had warned her that corrupt Seahaven officials trusted him only because they thought he was dishonest. "I didn't say that. Maybe he's a bad man."
"Nonsense," Ms. M said. "I sensed when we first met that you were as good a judge of character as I am. So you've already given me the essential piece of information I sought."
"If you use it to hurt him," Tori said with clenched teeth, "I'll hunt you down."
"Such dramatics." She put a hand to her breast, then lowered her voice. "All right. To put your mind at ease, I'll tell you what you want to know. My name is Margo Lazenby."
Her last name struck an immediate chord. The jars of makeup and beauty supplies Tori sold every weekend, not to mention the ones she used daily, had Lazenby written in bold script across the front of them.
The popularity of the company's line of cosmetics was so great that Lazenby had recently branched into perfume. Frasier's Department Store had gotten the new scent in last week. The perfume was called Margo, after the founder and CEO of the company.
"As in the cosmetics company?" Tori asked, then continued before Ms. M could answer. "That's why you asked what brand of makeup I used. You have a vested interest in Lazenby products."
"Shhhh." Ms. M put a finger to her lips, looking worriedly around. "We must never, ever use real names. You must continue to call me Ms. M, but you are right. And believe me, I've had my people working on improving our line of eye makeup. My goal is to get you and others like you to switch over from Revlon."
"I don't understand," Tori began.
"If one of my company's products needs improvement, I'm determined to see it improves," she declared.
"Not about the makeup," Tori clarified. "I don't understand about Grady. Why did you want him investigated?"
"If I tell you, I'll expect a report on your findings by the close of business tomorrow."
"You'll have it along with my resignation.” Tori silently vowed to protect Grady by leaving out his role in Operation Citygate. If indictments were imminent, Ms. M would learn the whole story soon enough anyway. "I can't continue to lie to him."
"Fair enough. I wanted to know what kind of person Grady Palmer is because. . ." Ms. M paused, exhibiting her flair for the dramatic. ". . .he's my grandson."
CHAPTER T HIRTY-TWO
Betrayal weighed down on Grady like a lead overcoat as he watched the woman who
'd met with Tori get into her gold Mercedes and drive away from the park.
With gently wrinkled skin and flawlessly styled hair that spoke of a life of privilege, the woman appeared to be no older than sixty. Her figure was superb for a woman of her age but oddly clad entirely in black.
Something about the cast of her features seemed familiar although Grady was quite sure he had never seen her before in his life.
He knew her name, though: Margo Lazenby.
His FBI contact had gotten it through DMV records minutes after Grady called in the license-plate number of her expensive, highly polished car. Margo Lazenby's wasn't the only name the agent had turned up in the past few hours.
The other was Eddie Sassenbury, a licensed private investigator who lived in a cookie-cutter house in an affordable section of Boca Raton.
Tori had led him to both Lazenby and Sassenbury.
The knowledge that he'd been right about Tori felt like a sword to his soul. He almost wished he could go back to that morning, before he'd spotted the paperback on the floor near her bed. Then surely his hunch that she was hiding something wouldn't have turned into a compulsion to follow her.
Being right, he thought, was vastly overrated.
Making himself move, he got out of the car. He could see Tori in the distance, still sitting on the park bench where she'd met with Margo Lazenby. Her right hand was on her forehead, her eyes downcast.
She glanced up when he got within about twenty feet. Even from that distance, he read shock and guilt so vivid it could have been written on her face in red marker.
"Grady, what are you doing here?" she asked, getting to her feet. Her light-yellow shirt and summery skirt made her look like the picture of innocence. He knew better.
"You're the private eye, you tell me," he said roughly. Her face went pale, but he couldn't let that sway him. "Don't bother to deny it. I know you're working for Eddie Sassenbury."
Her eyes appeared haunted when they met his. "You followed me."
"Just returning the favor."
"But why?"
"Does the title So, You Want to be a PI ring any bells?"
"I can explain.” She sounded almost desperate. "Eddie's my cousin. He's the PI, not me. He was shorthanded and talked me into helping him. It was never supposed to go this far."
"It was unlucky for me that it did."
She swallowed, grimacing as though in pain. "I deserved that."
"You deserve a hell of a lot worse," he bit out. "Tell me what your assignment was."
She blinked, looked away at the shimmering lake in the distance and then back at him.
"I was supposed to find out as much about you as I could," she finally said. "Eddie said I should do some research, follow you around and write down my impressions. He made it sound simple. Then you confronted me and it got complicated."
The knowledge that he'd been nothing more than an assignment to Tori burned the pit of his stomach. His impulse was to walk away from her and try to never look back. He couldn’t leave, however, until he had more information.
"I need to know how much you told Margo Lazenby.” He hardened his features to mask his hurt.
"You know who she is?"
"I know she's the CEO of Lazenby Cosmetics and that she wants to build her new headquarters in Seahaven," he said. "That won't happen without zoning changes, which gives her a vested interest in Honoria Black being re-elected mayor."
"You've got it wrong," she said. "Mrs. Lazenby didn't hire Sassenbury Investigations because of Honoria. She hired us to find out about you because. . ."
She didn't finish her sentence, fueling his anger. "What's the matter?" he asked harshly. "Run out of lies?"
"I wasn't going to lie," she shot back. "I just wasn't sure I should tell you."
"Tell me what?" he demanded.
"Margo Lazenby is your grandmother," she retorted.
His heart clutched. Even through the shock of the revelation, he knew in his gut it was the truth. Margo Lazenby's features had seemed familiar because he saw a masculine version of them every day when he looked in the mirror.
"Even if that's true," he said through the thickness in his throat, "that doesn't mean she has my best interests at heart."
"Didn't you hear what I said? She's your grandmother!"
"So what? She could still be mixed up in the corruption at City Hall. Thanks to you, she's probably telling everybody about the sting operation now."
"You think I told her about your part in that?" She was a good enough actress that she sounded incredulous.
"Didn't you?"
"No! I asked her to meet so I could let her know I wasn't going to tell her anything."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"It's the truth. After what you said this morning, I needed to find out why she wanted you investigated."
"Like you didn't already know."
"I didn't," she said. "Eddie never asked. He just took her money and assigned me the case. I'm not blameless. I should have refused to help, but I didn't know enough about private investigation to realize we should have had her reasons up front. Please, Grady. You've got to believe I'd never do anything to hurt you."
He felt as though hands were around his neck, squeezing the hope from him so he could hardly muster the will to form words. "And here I thought you were paid to follow me and compile information for a client."
She bit her lip, unable to deny it.
"Tell me this, Tori, was sleeping with me part of the assignment?"
"I slept with you because I fell in love with you!" she cried, grabbing the front of his shirt. "I know I should have told you about the investigation before now, but that's the truth."
"You sure as hell should have told me before last night."
"I meant to," she said. "But everything was so perfect I didn't want to ruin it. So I made up my mind to resign from the case first. I couldn't do that until I made sure I hadn't put you in danger."
"Now why am I having such a hard time believing that?"
"I'll tell you why," she said as tears streamed down her face. "Because you're protecting yourself from getting hurt. You want so badly for the world to be a place where the good guys prevail that you're afraid to believe in anything. You won't see with your heart. You only use your eyes."
"So now you're a psychologist," he said contemptuously, prying her fingers from the front of his shirt. "You don't have the right to psychoanalyze me, not after what you did."
"I'm starting to think the worst thing I did was fall in love with a man as intractable as you."
"You keep right on lying, don't you? The next thing I know, you'll be telling me it's not your fault because chronic lying is a disease."
"That's a terrible thing to say."
"I'm not feeling very charitable." He crossed his arms over his chest to keep the ache at bay. "I get that way when I find out the woman I thought I loved has betrayed me."
"Are you saying you don't love me anymore?"
The sun blazed down on her, throwing her tear-streaked face into stark focus. The tortured emotion stamped on her features looked genuine, but he'd already fallen for her act once. He didn't intend to be taken for a fool a second time.
He started to confirm that he no longer loved her but found he couldn't be as hypocritical as she was.
"I'm saying I never want to see you again," he said and walked out of her life, resolutely trying to ignore the pain in his chest.
CHAPTER THIRT Y-THREE
Fifteen minutes after the Seahaven City Council convened for its bi-monthly meeting, Grady entered the building that served as the center of operations for Lazenby Cosmetics.
Photos of beautiful models wearing Lazenby products adorned the walls. Wear our products, their gorgeous smiling faces seemed to say, and you'll look this way, too.
Grady determinedly thrust aside the thought that Tori was more beautiful than any of them and focused on his surroundings.
One word — Lazenby — wa
s boldly scrawled on the front wood panel of the reception desk. Behind it sat a receptionist with shockingly short black hair who was as stunning as any of the models in the photos. She looked up expectantly.
"Grady Palmer to see Margo Lazenby," he announced.
She examined a pad in front of her, then gave him a bland smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Palmer. Mrs. Lazenby doesn't see anyone without an appointment."
At the receptionist's cool, polite professionalism, Grady's estimation of Margo Lazenby raised a notch. She knew enough to let a beautiful woman be the first thing visitors to Lazenby Cosmetics saw, and she'd made sure that woman had a brain.
"I respect that," he said. “Could you please let her know that I'm here anyway?"
"Certainly, sir," she said.
Grady waited while she called upstairs. She nodded as she listened to what was being said on the other end of the line, hung up and smiled at Grady once more.
"If you'll wait by the elevator, Mr. Palmer, Mrs. Lazenby's assistant will be down shortly to escort you upstairs."
He waited, which is what his contact at the FBI had wanted him to do before he contacted Margo Lazenby. Grady’s compromise had been to postpone the confrontation until after the council meeting had started.
He understood the FBI's case would be seriously weakened if the Seahaven City Council didn't award Palmer Construction the contract to build the community center. It was too late now for Margo Lazenby to alert city officials to choose another company.
Of course, if Tori had passed on the information about Operation Citygate, the FBI's case could already be sunk. He swallowed hard at the thought, not wanting to believe she'd betrayed him but unable to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Whatever happened, Grady's role in the sting operation was finally reaching an end. The government had failed to gather any evidence incriminating Honoria Black, but the FBI planned to ask the Grand Jury for indictments on other city officials tomorrow.
The elevator door slid open, revealing a man who looked like he'd been spit polished. His hair was black and as shiny as his black dress shoes. Although it was past five o'clock, his thin, angular face was devoid of even the hint of a shadow. His double-breasted suit, which was obviously expensive, engulfed his thin body.
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