Truth or Dare

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Zoe tore off a bit of croissant and slathered some butter on it. “I’m not following you.”

  “I think I’m getting used to having him around.”

  “So? He seems to like being around you. I don’t see a problem here.”

  Arcadia’s fingers tightened around the small cup. “The problem is that I may be developing a certain . . . dependency on him.”

  Zoe swallowed the bite of croissant. “You want to run that by me again?”

  “I started having trouble sleeping shortly after he left on this latest job.” Arcadia’s silvery-blue eyes narrowed. “It was as if I’d become afraid of the dark. Three nights ago it was really bad.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I had been a little jumpy all day. It took me a long time to get to sleep. And then I woke up very suddenly. For a few seconds I was disoriented. I thought I was back in Xanadu.”

  “Your reaction was perfectly understandable, if you ask me,” Zoe said briskly. “Whenever I dream of that place I wake up in a cold sweat.”

  Arcadia shook her head. “That’s just it, I don’t think that I was dreaming about it. I just woke up abruptly and felt afraid. As if someone had gotten through the locks on my front door.”

  Zoe went still. “But there was no sign of a break-in, right?”

  “Of course not. I’d have yelled for Ethan if there was even a hint that someone had tripped Harry’s new security system. But I felt very strange until . . .”

  “Until what?”

  Arcadia’s mouth curved wryly. “Until Harry called.”

  Zoe relaxed a little. “And then you felt a whole lot better?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re thinking that this weird feeling you get at night when Harry isn’t there means that you’ve allowed him to get too close, aren’t you?”

  “All I know is that I wasn’t having these feelings before I met him last month.” Arcadia hesitated. “I think Harry sensed that I was nervous. He’s started calling me twice a day instead of just at night.”

  Zoe smiled. “And suddenly you’re sleeping better?”

  “Much better.”

  “So you’re worried that you might be getting addicted to Harry Stagg.”

  “It’s been a very long time since I’ve trusted a man,” Arcadia said. “I find the thought a little scary.”

  “For obvious reasons.” Zoe patted her hand lightly. “But Harry Stagg is no Grant Loring.”

  “I know.”

  Arcadia relaxed visibly and drank the rest of her espresso.

  11

  Ethan took a bite of olive-and-jalapeño-dotted pizza and let his attentive audience wait while he chewed and swallowed. He caught Zoe’s eye. It had been her idea to invite what she called “the gang” out for dinner that night.

  He was not sure exactly when or how the gang had come into being, but at some point during the past few weeks, he and the others had formed a closely knit company. All but one of them was there.

  In addition to Zoe and himself, the group included Bonnie and his nephews, Jeff and Theo. Arcadia and Singleton Cobb were also part of the odd mix. Harry Stagg, the most unexpected member of the gang, was the only one not present. He was still in LA.

  Ethan finished the slice of pizza and surveyed his waiting audience.

  “It’s a classic locked-room mystery,” he said.

  “What’s a classic locked-room mystery, Uncle Ethan?” Theo demanded, kicking the rung of his chair with his sneaker-shod feet.

  Jeff gave a condescending snort. He was eight, two years older than Theo, and he never hesitated to take on the superior air of the all-knowing older brother.

  “It means the room where they found Kirwan’s body was locked, dummy,” Jeff said.

  “Don’t call me a dummy, smart-ass,” Theo shot back.

  Bonnie glowered at both of them. “I do not want to hear any more language like that from either of you. Is that understood?”

  “Dummy’s not a bad word,” Jeff said. “It just means that he’s not very bright.”

  “Smart-ass just means an intelligent donkey,” Theo proclaimed, defending himself with an expression of angelic innocence. “There’s nothing wrong with donkey.”

  “Do I look like a copy of the OED to you?” Bonnie raised her brows. “I’m not discussing definitions of bad words here. I’m giving an order.”

  “What’s an OED?” Jeff asked around a mouthful of pizza.

  “The Oxford English Dictionary,” Singleton replied.

  “A dictionary, huh?” Jeff was clearly intrigued. “Does it have the bad words in it? Our dictionary at school doesn’t have any of those.”

  Ethan looked at him. “You checked?”

  “Sure.”

  Bonnie rolled her eyes.

  “Inquiring minds,” Arcadia murmured.

  “The OED is pretty much the final authority on the English language,” Singleton said, “so it contains all the words, good and bad. As a matter of fact, I’ve got a full set in my shop if you want to—” He broke off when Bonnie gave him a warning scowl. “Uh, it’s really big and heavy. Lots of volumes. Not what you’d call a light read. I don’t think either of you would enjoy it.”

  Jeff and Theo brightened instantly. Ethan knew they were about to assure Singleton that they were fully capable of some heavy reading if the goal was worthwhile, but Bonnie spoke up swiftly.

  “You were telling us about the Kirwan murder case, Ethan,” she said. “What have you found out so far?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “But it’s sort of intriguing, even though the only book I ever read of Kirwan’s was The Long, Cold Summer.”

  “What was it about?” Theo asked.

  Jeff heaved a theatrical sigh. “It was probably about a long, cold summer, dummy.”

  Bonnie frowned. “Jeff, I mean it. If you don’t behave, we’re going to leave.”

  Jeff opened his mouth to argue. Ethan caught his eye, saying nothing. Jeff subsided without a word and went back to his pizza.

  Bonnie looked at Ethan. He saw the anxiety in her expression and understood her concerns. Jeff had been acting out for the past couple of weeks and it was getting worse. Unlike Theo, who seemed to have gotten past the anniversary of his father’s death without too much angst this year, Jeff was not faring well.

  Neither am I, kid, Ethan thought. But sometimes you had to suck it up and act normal.

  “How are you going to approach the research?” Zoe asked.

  “In my customary brilliant fashion,” Ethan said. “Gather all the facts and then hope like heck that inspiration strikes.”

  Singleton finished his slice of pizza. “Let me get this straight. The goal here is to prove that Maria Torres was innocent, right?”

  “That’s certainly the result that Paloma Santana would like to get,” Bonnie said. “There’s going to be a lot of media present on the day the Kirwan House is opened to the public. The mayor would love nothing more than to be able to announce that the mystery of the missing manuscript has been solved. She thinks that locating it would go a long way toward focusing the blame for Kirwan’s death on someone other than her grandmother.”

  “Because it would prove that Maria Torres didn’t steal it?” Arcadia asked.

  “Right.” Ethan looked down the table at Singleton. “You’re the expert on locating rare books. Got time for some consulting work on this thing?”

  “Sure.” Singleton nodded. “Sounds interesting. But what happens if you don’t come up with the answers Paloma Santana wants? What if you actually find convincing proof that Maria did kill Kirwan and steal the manuscript?”

  Ethan shrugged. “If Paloma Santana insists on the answers, I’ll give them to her privately and she can decide what to do with them. There’s no reason to make them public. Everyone who was directly involved in the case is now dead, including Maria Torres. Proving that she actually did murder Kirwan wouldn’t accomplish anything useful at this late date.”

  “But, Uncl
e Ethan,” Jeff said, “don’t you want the truth to come out on TV and in the newspaper? Mom said it would be really good publicity for your business.”

  “Yeah,” Theo added. “Besides, you and Mom always say that you’re supposed to tell the truth.”

  “I will tell the truth to Paloma Santana because she’s the client. But there’s no rule that says the truth has to be broadcast on the six-o’clock news.”

  “In fact,” Arcadia said to the boys with the grave air of a wise aunt imparting important knowledge, “the newspapers and the media are the last places you should expect to find the truth.”

  Singleton chuckled. “Your cynical side is showing, Arcadia.”

  “It’s one of my best features,” she assured him.

  “What does ‘cynical’ mean?” Theo asked.

  Singleton launched into a detailed but carefully worded explanation. Bonnie offered some refinements and warnings about the risks of becoming too cynical. Arcadia defended the wisdom of cynicism. There were more questions from Jeff and Theo.

  In the midst of the lively conversation bubbling around the table, Zoe smiled at Ethan. The silent, intimate acknowledgment of the bond between them did something to him deep inside. He heard the now-familiar click and felt the rush of awareness.

  He saw the understanding in her eyes. She alone of all the people in his life knew why he spent his spare hours investigating the oldest and coldest of cold cases. The others assumed that it was merely a hobby, but Zoe knew that it was far more than that. She had realized right from the start that it was something he needed to do.

  He had never put the compulsion into words for himself, but Zoe had. When you do get the answers, you create a little justice. You balance some invisible scales somewhere.

  The connection between them was growing stronger by the day. It sent a bone-deep chill of wonder through him. It also worried him like hell. Although they had been together for only a few weeks and married for even less time, she had somehow gotten closer than anyone else ever had. Maybe too close. She saw parts of his soul that had escaped detection by three ex-wives and the members of his own family. If she looked too deeply with those mysterious eyes of hers, she might see the parts that did not look good in the light of day.

  The sense of impending doom closed in around him again. He had never before been involved this deeply. This was not a match made in heaven, he reminded himself. There were issues. But with each passing day he was more and more certain that if Zoe walked away from him, he would fall straight into hell.

  After dinner Ethan and Singleton took Jeff and Theo and adjourned to the video arcade on the other side of Fountain Square. Zoe sat on a green wrought-iron bench together with Arcadia and Bonnie. The evening had turned cool, as evenings often did in the desert, but the area around the benches was warmed with large outdoor patio heaters that glowed a bright orange-red.

  A profusion of small white lights outlined every tree and storefront. There were a number of signs heralding the upcoming Fall Festival Night. The annual event was the official Fountain Square kickoff to the holiday shopping season.

  Arcadia watched the men and boys disappear into the video arcade. “Has Singleton asked you out yet, Bonnie?”

  Bonnie did not move or take her attention away from the entrance to the arcade. “No.”

  “Hmm,” Arcadia said. “Wonder why not?”

  “What makes you think he might be interested in anything more than a causal friendship?” Bonnie asked quietly.

  Zoe turned her head at that. “Are you kidding? Have you even noticed the way he looks at you?”

  “He’s biding his time,” Arcadia said. “Doesn’t want you to feel rushed. Making sure he’ll be welcome in your life.”

  Zoe nodded. “I get the feeling he’s the slow, cautious type.”

  Bonnie made a sputtering sound that was somewhere between exasperation and laughter. “What is this? Have you two suddenly decided to become matchmakers just because you’re both getting some good sex yourselves?”

  “Probably,” Zoe said.

  Arcadia gave a small, eloquent shrug. “Just making an observation.”

  Bonnie clasped her hands together in her lap. “Singleton is so very different from Drew.”

  There was a short silence.

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Zoe offered at last. “You won’t be tempted to make comparisons. You can let him be himself.”

  “Is that how it is with you and Ethan?” Bonnie asked.

  “Yes.” Zoe studied the play of the fountain waters. “Ethan is nothing like Preston. My relationship with my first husband was—” She broke off, searching for the right word. “Uncomplicated.”

  “And Ethan is complicated,” Bonnie said. It was a statement of fact.

  “Very.” Zoe crossed her legs and swung one foot lightly, thinking about her marriage. “I don’t mind complicated. I’m a little complicated myself. But I’m starting to wonder if Ethan really wants me to know that side of him. He isn’t big on communicating.”

  Arcadia was amused. “What man is?”

  “Give Ethan some time,” Bonnie urged. “He isn’t accustomed to having anyone take an interest in his complicated side. Lord knows, none of his ex-wives wanted to experience that part of him. All they wanted was what they saw on the surface.”

  Arcadia nodded. “A man who looks like he can take care of himself and them, too.”

  “Yes,” Bonnie said. “But none of them wanted to take care of him, at least none of them wanted to do it badly enough to work at it.”

  “Something tells me that’s the way Ethan liked it,” Zoe muttered.

  Bonnie thought about that. “Maybe you’re right. Less of an emotional risk that way, I guess. Whatever his communication issues were in his first three marriages, I can tell you that they got a whole lot worse after Drew was kidnapped and killed.”

  “He’s carrying around a lot of guilt,” Zoe said. “He was the older brother. A part of him will always feel that he failed to do what he was supposed to do—protect Drew.”

  She knew exactly how Ethan felt, she thought. She would never be entirely free of a similar sense of failure. She and Preston had promised to take care of each other. But in the end she had been unable to save him.

  “Ethan is definitely going to be a lot of hard work for any woman who takes him on.” Bonnie shook her head, smiling wryly. “I love him like a brother and I will always be eternally grateful to him for the way he took care of Jeff and Theo and me after Drew was gone. But I’ll tell you the truth, I could never imagine myself married to him. Not in a million years.”

  “Which brings us back to Singleton,” Arcadia said. “I do believe that the man is smitten.”

  Zoe cocked a brow. “ ‘Smitten’?”

  “I’ve always wanted to use that word,” Arcadia said.

  Bonnie exhaled slowly. “Smitten or not, I don’t know him well enough to even think about marrying him.”

  “But?” Zoe prompted.

  “But the boys like him a lot. They’ve turned him into a sort of second uncle, I think.”

  “And?”

  Bonnie smiled. “And I think I would like to get to know him better. Much better.”

  “Good,” Zoe declared. “I’m glad.”

  Bonnie laughed. “Enough about you and me, Zoe. What about your personal life, Arcadia? I assume that Harry Stagg is also a very complicated man?”

  Zoe waited with great curiosity for Arcadia’s response. Few people dared to ask her such directly personal questions. There was something about her friend that made most folks hesitate to intrude into the zone of privacy that she had erected around herself.

  “Harry is not complicated,” Arcadia said. “He is what he is.”

  Zoe shook her head. It was a very Arcadia sort of answer.

  “Different from your late husband, I take it?” Bonnie pressed.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think Grant Loring is all that late,” Arcadia said. “I’ve got a hu
nch he’s still alive, and if he is, we’re still legally married. But, to answer your question, yes, Harry is very different from my husband. For starters, Grant tried to murder me.”

  Bonnie’s jaw dropped visibly. “Good God.”

  Zoe was equally stunned but for a different reason. Arcadia had told her the truth about Grant Loring shortly after they escaped from Candle Lake Manor. But to her knowledge, Arcadia had not confided in anyone else with the possible exception of Harry Stagg.

  Bonnie recovered from her initial shock. “I knew that you never discussed your life before Candle Lake Manor, and I was aware that there was some mystery about it, but I hadn’t realized—”

  “I faked my own death, hoping Grant would believe that his attempt to kill me had been successful,” Arcadia said quietly. “I then checked myself into Candle Lake under a different name with the intention of lying low for a while. I figured that a psychiatric hospital would be the last place that Grant would look for me, assuming he was actively searching. After Zoe and I escaped, I bought a second new identity, hoping to muddy the waters even more.”

  “Where is Loring now?” Bonnie asked.

  “I have no idea. Officially he died in an avalanche at a European ski resort. But I have a feeling that he’s out there somewhere, living under a new identity, just as I am.”

  Bonnie shivered a little in the cool night air. “Scary thought.”

  “Sometimes,” Arcadia agreed.

  On the other side of the square, Ethan, Singleton and the boys emerged from the video hall. Jeff and Theo bounced around the men, talking animatedly about whatever had happened inside. The hero worship in their eyes made Zoe’s heart turn over. Young males needed their role models so desperately, she thought.

  For their part, Ethan and Singleton exuded the indulgent patience of alpha pack leaders. You knew just by the way they moved that even though they laughed and traded wisecracks with the boys, they were aware and on guard. These were the kind of men you could rely on in a crisis.

  “I can certainly understand why you said that Harry Stagg was very different from Grant Loring,” Bonnie whispered. She still sounded rather stunned.

  “Oh, he is,” Arcadia said calmly. “If Harry had tried to kill me, he would have succeeded.”