by Sandra Brown
“Then in order for me to know you better, I’ll have to read it.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You want to know me better?”
Realizing she’d stepped into a trap of her own making, she repositioned herself in the rocker as though reestablishing boundaries. She took a sip of wine. “Yesterday on the boat, you were stingy with your answers to Elaine’s questions.”
“Hard to get a word in edgewise when talking to Elaine.” He hoped that would put her onto another track. It didn’t.
“See? That’s a perfect example of how you deflect any discussion about yourself. Why?”
He raised his shoulders. “There’s nothing interesting to tell.”
“I don’t believe you, Drex.”
“Believe it. Even I am bored with me.”
She smiled at his quip, but she wasn’t dissuaded. “Let’s begin with where you grew up.”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“You were raised by wolves.”
He laughed. “Not quite. But actually, the guess isn’t too far off.”
She raised her wine stem to her mouth and took another sip, holding his gaze, letting him know with her eyes alone that she was going to persist until he told her.
He weighed the risks, thought to hell with it. He would go for broke. “Alaska.”
She lowered her wineglass, her surprise evident. “You were born there?”
“No. We moved up there before I turned three. I stayed through high school.”
“It’s a long way from there to here.”
He snuffled a laugh. “Longer than you can imagine.”
“I wasn’t talking about the geographic distance.”
He met her gaze. “Neither was I.” Their stare held, and he was the first to look away. He shook the remaining ice cubes, drained the bourbon, and set his glass on the table. He thought that would be the end of it, but Talia wasn’t finished yet.
“Where did you live?” she asked. “The town.”
“Nowhere you ever heard of, and never for very long in any one place. We were migratory.”
“What did your parents do for a living?”
“My dad worked on the pipeline. That’s why we moved a lot. We lived in some places so remote, I’m not sure they were on the map.”
“Life couldn’t have been easy.”
“Wasn’t. Hard work. Long hours. Isolation.”
She looked at him as though expecting him to continue and expand on that. When he didn’t, she said, “Was there anything to recommend that lifestyle?”
He gave her a wry grin. “For dad? Hard work. Long hours. Isolation. And the pay was good.”
“He left you an inheritance. Jasper told me.”
He drew his feet in and leaned toward her. Squinting one eye, he said, “It seems I’ve been the topic of a lot of conversations between you and Jasper. Any particular reason why?”
“No. Just curious.”
“Huh. I rarely arouse that much curiosity in people.”
She squirmed in her seat, raised her wineglass as though to drink from it, then changed her mind. “Based on your description of your upbringing, it sounds like a very male-dominated environment.”
“It was.”
“Your mother was okay with that? With the frequent moves, the isolation?”
He gave her a long look before saying quietly, “My mother never set foot in Alaska.”
Her lips parted with surprise, and she seemed about to ask another question, when Jasper’s voice came from behind them. “The minute my back was turned.”
Chapter 8
Jasper’s voice startled Talia. What was left of the wine in her glass sloshed as she left the rocking chair to meet her husband halfway. Although Jasper’s tone hadn’t been one hundred percent teasing, she responded as though it had been.
“You caught us red-handed.” She took the grocery sack from him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for making the run.”
“You’re welcome.” He returned her kiss. Then, “Drex,” he said, smiling and motioning toward the empty highball glass on the table. “Looks like you need a refill.”
“I wouldn’t say no to one. Let me pour yours while I’m at it.”
“Thank you.” Just then the microwave dinged. Jasper turned toward the kitchen. “What’s that?”
Talia laughed. “It’s called a microwave. Great invention. Not the abomination you’ve called it.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
“Well, you’ll be able to form another opinion soon. Drex has cooked the corn.”
Drex poured Jasper and himself each a bourbon, then joined him and Talia in the kitchen, where they were making final preparations for the meal. With the same amount of fanfare as he had used to put the corn in the microwave, he pulled on a pair of oven mitts and demonstrated how to get the ears out of the husks.
“Whack off the end with the silk.” He severed it from the cob with one hard chop with a butcher knife and had a bloodthirsty desire to plunge it into Jasper’s heart. “Hold it upside down by the stalk. Annnnnd, out it slides, clean as a whistle.”
Talia applauded. “I’ll get the butter.”
She set the small dining table on the porch and placed lit citronella candles around. Jasper grilled the burger patties on a smoker that probably cost more than Drex’s car.
Jasper kept one eye on the burger patties, the other on Drex, following his every move, which made Drex wonder if he’d given away his increased antagonism. He decided to test the waters. Drink in one hand, the other in his front pants pocket, he strolled over and joined his host at the grill.
Wielding his spatula, Jasper flipped the patties. “That was quite a trick with the corn. Where’d you learn it?”
“A friend showed me. He’s a—”
“Foodie?”
Thinking of Mike’s bulk, Drex laughed. “No. That suggests a refined pallet. This guy will eat anything.”
“Has he taught you any other tricks?”
“Nope. My culinary skills end there. That smells great, by the way,” he said of the sizzling meat. “You obviously have the knack.”
“Was the UPS delivery for you or Arnott?”
Drex gave him a sharp look.
“I saw the truck as it pulled into the drive.”
“Huh.” Drex swirled the ice cubes in his glass. “I ordered a box fan. I would have returned yours tonight when I came over, but I had a handful of cupcakes.”
“You didn’t need to buy a fan. Ours was yours to use for as long as you needed it.”
“Thanks for that, but I’m beginning to feel like a mooch. In fact, I’d like to treat you and Talia to dinner. Don’t panic. We’ll go out. I don’t think you’d enjoy a dining experience at my kitchen table.”
Jasper smiled. “Don’t feel like you must pay us back.”
“I want to do it. But I’ll need you to suggest some good local restaurants. I haven’t tested any yet, and I don’t trust online ratings.”
“I’ll jot down some of our favorites.”
“I’d like to include Elaine.” Drex paused before adding, “If that’s all right with you.”
Jasper turned his head and gave him a bland look. “Why wouldn’t it be all right with me?”
Again, Drex’s pause was calculated. He glanced over at Talia, who was fiddling with a vase of flowers she’d set in the center of the table. When he came back to Jasper, he said, “Just wanting to make sure I wasn’t setting up an awkward situation.”
“For whom? I’m not following.”
Like hell you aren’t. “I thought maybe you and Elaine…?” Drex raised his eyebrows.
“Are just friends.”
Ignoring Jasper’s icy tone, Drex broke a wide grin. “Great. I thought so, but, you know.” He gave Jasper a light sock on the shoulder. A man-to-man, “we understand each other” tap. “Provide me that list of favorite restaurants and we’ll double date.”
Talia approached with a platter for the burger pattie
s. Without taking his eyes off Drex, Jasper said, “Perfect timing, darling.” Then he leaned over and kissed her solidly on the mouth, a stamp of ownership.
When he ended the kiss, Talia turned away, appearing flustered and surprised by the sudden amorous display. Drex gathered it wasn’t something Jasper often did, and that he’d done it now for his benefit, not Talia’s.
I get the point, you son of a bitch.
Recovering quickly, and showing admirable poise, Talia graciously invited them to take their seats at the table. They assembled their burgers according to personal preferences. When they were ready to eat, Talia noticed that she’d forgotten the skewers for the corn.
“I’ll get them.” Drex shot from his chair. “I spotted them on the counter.”
Before either she or Jasper could stop him, he was already through the kitchen door. He swept the skewers off the counter into his palm, then glanced through the open door onto the porch. Jasper and Talia were debating the merits of ketchup over mustard. She laughed at something he said. They clinked wineglasses above one of the flickering candles.
Drex dropped to one knee, bent down toward the baseboard beneath the cabinetry, and felt along the seam connecting them.
“Looking for something?”
Drex tensed, then swiveled around and smiled as he came to his feet. “Found it.” He held up a skewer. “One had rolled off the counter and under the cabinet.” He took the skewer to the sink and rinsed it off.
Staring hard at Drex, Jasper stood blocking the doorway for what seemed to be an eternity, then his smile returned. He stood aside and motioned for Drex to go ahead of him. “I hope the corn hasn’t gotten cold. I’m eager to sink my teeth in.”
“I think he was talking about my neck, not the corn.”
After returning from dinner, Drex had lowered all the window shades in the apartment. Half an hour later, he’d turned off the lights as though he’d gone to bed. He put in the call to Mike and Gif and immediately told them what they’d been standing by to hear: He had succeeded in planting the bug, and it was working. “I listened in as they cleaned up the kitchen.”
Dual sighs had expressed their relief.
“How was it?” Mike asked now. “The corn on the cob.”
“So scrumptious it pissed him off.”
“He said that?” Gif asked.
“No, but I could tell.”
Jasper had become even more piqued when Talia all but swooned as she licked melted butter from her fingertips and declared that Drex had delivered as promised. Her husband’s genial expression never changed, but as the evening progressed, his dialogue became more terse, and his smiles began to look forced.
“Even if he’s not Weston Graham, I don’t like him,” Drex said. “He has this air of superiority. All-knowing. I admit that it amuses me to prick with him.”
“You’re amused. He’s controlled and all-knowing, which, by the way, you’ve told us are characteristics of serial killers. This quasi-friendship is making me nervous,” Gif said.
“I’ve got to play it as I see it, guys. If I went in and tried to match him in a chest-thumping contest, he would have nothing to do with me. Instead, he’s intrigued. Talia told me as much. He keeps having me back because he hasn’t figured me out yet.”
“God forbid he does.”
“Cheer up, Mike. If I go missing, you’ll know where to start looking.”
“That’s not funny,” Gif said. “Do you go armed on these dinner dates?”
“He’s not going to engage in a shootout. That’s not his style.”
“Nevertheless,” said Gif, the guru of practicality.
“Tonight was the first time my weapon and badge stayed home. All I had with me was the transmitter. Keeping it concealed was worry enough.”
He’d told them that he’d taken advantage of Jasper’s absence by arriving early, but he hadn’t said much about the private conversation that he and Talia had shared. He had revealed more to her than he should have, perhaps. But talking about himself might have earned him her trust, which was necessary if he was ever going to get her to open up about Jasper.
It had been risky to tell her the truth about his upbringing, rather than inventing one. But what he’d described might have sounded to her more fiction than fact. If she relayed it to Jasper, he might dismiss it as pure fabrication.
Even if Jasper accepted it as truth, it was unlikely he would ever draw a parallel between Drex Easton, would-be author next door, and the toddler who’d been whisked off to Alaska by his father after his mother’s abandonment. Drex wasn’t even certain she had ever told Weston Graham about her previous marriage. He might never have known of Drex’s existence. His mother’s perfidy then might well be protecting Drex from exposure now.
“So,” Gif said, “what’s your second impression of them?”
“Nothing they said or did triggered an alarm. They acted like a married couple.”
Mike said, “Since neither of us has experience with matrimony, could you be a little more descriptive?”
“They’re familiar. She brushed a crumb of hamburger bun off his beard. He flicked away a mosquito that landed on her arm. Like that.”
“Were they affectionate?”
“To an extent.”
“To what extent?”
“Look, Gif, if you want me to talk dirty to you, you’ll have to pay me sixty bucks a minute.”
“You don’t have to bite my head off. Just give me a for-instance.”
Drex swore under his breath. “Okay. For instance, when Jasper returned from his errand, she thanked him with a wifely kiss on the cheek, and he repaid it.” Then he kissed her on the mouth. Hard. And, swear to God, I believe he did it to see how I would react. But he didn’t tell Gif and Mike that because they would want to know how he had reacted.
“Did you get the night vision binoculars?”
“They were delivered today. Along with a new box fan. Good thing I added the fan to the order. Jasper mentioned seeing the UPS truck.”
“Like he wanted to know what you’d had delivered?”
“That was my take. I explained it away by telling him about the fan. Returning his gives me a reason to go back to their house at least once again. And I invited them out to dinner, along with Elaine.”
“When?”
“Soon as I can swing it. I tried not to sound too eager. Mike, what have you learned about Elaine?”
“Mr. Conner of Delaware was husband number two.”
“What happened to number one?”
“Marriage fizzled early on. No substantial funds to divide. He remarried before she did. Mr. Conner was an older widower, pillar-of-the-community type, died of cancer. They were married for thirteen years.”
“Kids?”
“Not together. He had one son, who was killed in a car wreck on his twenty-first birthday. Lost his son before his wife died.”
“So Elaine inherited everything?”
“Right,” Mike said. “But the net worth isn’t as staggering as we estimated. She’s rich. She’ll never have to clip coupons. But she’s not über-wealthy. Nowhere close to Marian Harris or Pixie, or to most of the others, now I think about it.”
“How do her assets compare to Talia Shafer’s?”
“Exactly which assets are you referring to?”
“Back off, Gif,” Drex snapped. “I’m working here, not pining over a married woman. Don’t start with that crap again.”
“Is it crap?” Mike said. “Her name comes up, you act like you’ve been goosed with a cattle prod.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Make that two cattle prods,” he continued. “Why is that? Why so touchy?”
“I’m not touchy.”
“I stand corrected. More like hot under the collar.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“If I’m hot,” Drex said, “it’s because there’s no AC in this fucking apartment. And every once in a while, I catch a lingering whif
f of dead rodent. All I do all day is pretend to be writing a book, which entails sitting in a kitchen chair till my ass goes numb.”
“I suppose that could explain your bad mood.” That from Gif.
“I’m not in a bad mood.”
“Well, whatever,” Mike said. “What I’m about to tell you isn’t going to improve it.”
Drex pinched the bridge of his nose, only now realizing how exhausted he was. The unrelenting tension—guarding against making a mistake that would give him away, the constant observing and being under observation, not to mention lying by omission to his friends—was taking a toll on him physically.
Fatigue had no place is this undertaking. Shaking it off, he took a deep breath. “What now?”
Mike said, “That woman you got to type your faux manuscript?”
Drex had been prepared to hear much worse. “Pam? What about her?”
“She called me today. Said you’d given her my number.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because for obvious reasons I didn’t want to give her mine. I told her that if something urgent came up in the office and she needed to reach me, you were my go-to person.”
“Well, something came up in your office.”
Drex’s heart bumped, but he didn’t ask. He waited Mike out.
“Rudkowski called there, looking for you.”
“What?”
“Three times, after his assistant put in the initial call. He worked his way up the chain of command, demanding to know where you were and how he could reach you.”
“Shit!”
“This Pam thought I should know so I could inform you. She offered to help in any way she could if you were in a jam and needed her to cover for you. She asked me to tell you that. Made me promise I would. She seemed earnest.”
“She’s earnestly man-hungry,” Drex said absently as he tried to process this news about Rudkowski. “She wants a stepdaddy for her two kids. Maybe she thought the project I gave her was an inroad to…something.”
“Is it?”
“Hell no,” he replied with impatience. Then, “Did Rudkowski try to reach either of you?”
“Not yet,” Gif said. “But Mike gave me a heads-up, and I dodged calls for the rest of the day.”