by Sandra Brown
The dimple appeared. “It’ll be my pleasure. And I would hate to waste one of the desserts I took the liberty of pre-ordering.”
“Oooh, what?” Elaine said.
“Chocolate soufflé.”
The sly look he gave Talia set her teeth on edge.
He walked over to the bar, turned to her, and arched his brow. “Can I pour you a nice red wine?”
Ungently she tossed her handbag into the nearest chair. “No. Vodka martini. Dry. Straight up.”
He wanted to kill her.
But first, he wanted to fuck her.
No, he wanted to fuck her, then torment her, then kill her.
Drex had been experiencing these violent urges ever since he’d seen her in that photograph taken aboard Marian Harris’s yacht, separated from Jasper Ford by several yards, but there. The two of them.
“All that bullshit about the client complaint, the email exchange, the hand-delivered roses, was just that: bullshit,” he’d told Mike and Gif when he’d recovered from the shock and was composed enough to call them.
“You’re sure it’s her?” Mike had asked. “I mean, Gif and me thought so, but we’re going only by pictures. You’ve been up close and personal.”
They didn’t know how up close, how personal. “It’s her.”
“So what do you think?” Mike had asked. “Is she her husband’s next victim, or his accomplice?”
“Hell I know,” Drex had muttered in reply.
After seeing her and Jasper in such close proximity on the yacht’s deck, when they weren’t even supposed to have known each other at the time, he had methodically reviewed each of his own encounters with Talia, assessing them in a new light. Especially her unannounced visit to his grubby living quarters.
Providing him a list of restaurants had been an acceptable excuse for her coming over, but it was just as likely that Jasper had sent her on a fact-finding mission. If she had come to his door wearing a see-through negligee, it couldn’t have looked any sexier than her jeans and t-shirt. But maybe that downplayed wardrobe had been calculated to make the visit seem neighborly and innocent.
Was the speck of icing an accidental and unnoticed leftover from breakfast, or had she dabbed it on deliberately, placing it in a spot that couldn’t possibly escape his notice? A spot that had made his loins achy and tight.
The question about her culpability hung there unanswered until Mike said, “Drex, let me pose a question that might simplify and clarify your thinking.”
“Shoot.”
“If she’s in the dark about her husband and his past misdeeds, why did she lie to you about how they hooked up?”
The three of them had pondered the question in silence.
It was Drex who finally spoke, grumbling, “Here I’ve been losing sleep from worrying about her safety.”
And here he was now, topping off Elaine’s wineglass with the last of their second bottle. He’d never endured such a long dinner in his life. It was torture. From the instant Talia had come through Elaine’s front door, he’d been baiting her, and it had worked. She had flung her small purse into the armchair as though throwing down a spiked gauntlet.
Inside that dress—which, by the way, was a slinky knockout worn with no detectable undergarments—she was steaming. Her entire body vibrated with indignation every time she looked at him, which wasn’t often. In fact, for most of the dinner, she ignored him completely.
He wondered if her obvious ire had anything to do with that laden moment on his threshold, from which she had run like the apartment had burst into flames. Maybe his suggestive action had offended her.
But he figured her truculent mood tonight had more to do with Elaine, who was reacting to his courtly attention as forecast, which was exactly what Talia had wanted to guard against.
Elaine’s effervescence made her impossible to dislike, but, as though sensing the strain between Talia and him, she’d appointed herself social chair of the trio and couldn’t leave even the briefest silence alone. She filled any gap in the conversation with prattle. Drex responded as though delightfully entertained by every inanity, which fed Elaine’s flirtatiousness, which fueled Talia’s anger.
When they finished their entrées and were waiting for the soufflés to be served, Elaine excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, leaving him alone with Talia for the first time that evening. She took her cell phone from her handbag and typed a text.
“To Jasper?”
She said a terse yes. While waiting for a reply, she took a slow visual survey of the drapery valance, the chandelier, the weave pattern of the tablecloth. She picked at her slender diamond bracelet as though discovering that it had been clasped around her wrist without her knowledge. She did not look at him.
“You seem out of sorts tonight.”
She stopped inspecting her bracelet and looked across at him, but didn’t say anything.
“Why are you in such a sulk? Missing Jasper?”
On the heels of his taunt, her phone dinged. She read the text, then clicked off.
“How’s he doing?”
“Better.”
“Puked it all up?”
“Drank a ginger ale.” Then, with full-blown hostility, she said, “You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?”
Drex didn’t have time to respond because Elaine’s return to the table coincided with the waiter delivering their soufflés.
They ate them, their conversation limited to comments about calories and how some foods were worth the splurge. They had coffee but didn’t linger over it, and when Elaine suggested after-dinner drinks, Talia bowed out.
“I hate to cut the evening short,” she lied. “Jasper says he’s feeling better, but I really should get home to him.”
Elaine had insisted that they all ride together to the restaurant, leaving Talia’s car at the townhouse. When the restaurant valet brought around Drex’s car, Elaine got in the front seat, as before. Talia sat in back.
Their positions were such that Drex could observe her in the rearview mirror. She kept her head turned toward the back seat window.
As they neared Elaine’s neighborhood, she expressed regret that Jasper had missed such a luscious dinner. “If he’s up to it, let’s have a foursome lunch at the country club tomorrow.”
Talia continued to stare out the window. “It will depend on how he feels in the morning. I’ll have to let you know.” She didn’t sound at all enthusiastic about the prospect.
“I’ll make a ressie for four in the hope that you can make it. Noonish? Or a bit later?”
Drex said, “Sorry, Elaine, but I have to decline.”
“Oh, no.”
“I’m stuck at a pivotal part of the novel and much in need of inspiration. I’m thinking of going in search of some.”
“Where does a writer begin looking for inspiration?”
“Holy ground.”
“Church?”
“Hemingway’s house in Key West.”
Talia’s reaction was instantaneous. Her head came around. They locked eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Have you been there?” He addressed the question to her, but Elaine responded.
“My husband and I docked there. But only once. The vibe was a little too bohemian for him.”
Drex acknowledged that with a nod but never took his eyes off Talia, who, after holding his stare for several seconds, had turned her head aside again. Un-huh. No way, he thought. He wasn’t going to let the question go unanswered. “How about you, Talia?”
Without looking at him, she lowered her chin slightly. “I was there a couple of years ago.”
“And?”
“And…” She raised a nearly bare shoulder. “It was all right.”
“Just all right?”
“Not my worst destination, but not one of my favorites, either.”
“What didn’t you like? The food? The nightlife? What?”
With discernible impatience, she said, “Nothing I could put my finger on.�
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“Hmm. Did you tour Hemingway’s house?”
“No, but I’m not surprised that you plan to.”
“Why’s that?”
She met his gaze in the mirror. “Jasper theorized that you want to create a professional image for yourself that’s reminiscent of Jack London or Hemingway.”
“Jasper devoted that much thought to me and my aspirations?”
“He made the comment after I told him about your upbringing in Alaska.”
“Alaska?” Elaine chirped. “How fascinating.”
“Not really,” Drex said.
“I’ve never known anyone from there. You must tell me all about it. Come in for a nightcap?”
He pulled the car to the curb in front of her townhouse, put it in park, but left it running. “If I’m going to Florida, I’ll need to get up early tomorrow and start making arrangements. Rain check?”
“Of course. Besides, you probably should follow Talia home.”
He glanced back at her. “I planned to.”
“I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you. Besides, I’m a big girl.” She got out of the car and shut the back door.
By the time Drex alighted and had come around to open the passenger door for Elaine, Talia was impatiently bouncing her key fob in her palm. “Thank you for dinner, Drex. It was lovely.” Her drop-dead glare put her sincerity in doubt. “Good night, Elaine.” She leaned in and air-kissed Elaine’s cheek. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Give Jasper my regards. Promise to call me tomorrow and let me know how he’s doing.”
“Yes, I will.” Without another word or glance at Drex, she turned and started walking toward her car, her high heels tapping the sidewalk with a marching cadence.
Elaine gave his shoulder a nudge. “I don’t care how big a girl she is, I can tell she’s upset. She hasn’t been herself all evening. Make sure she gets home safely.”
“After I walk you to your door.”
“Nonsense. It’s all of twenty steps.”
“You sure?”
“Go. I think she must be more worried about Jasper than she’s letting on.”
He gave a grim smile at the unintended irony. “I’m sure you’re right.” He kissed Elaine lightly on the cheek and bid her good night, then quickly got back into his car and peeled away from the curb in pursuit of Talia’s taillights.
Once he caught up with her, he stayed close and pulled into his driveway seconds after she pulled into hers. She opened the garage door remotely and lowered it as soon as her rear bumper cleared the opening.
Drex got out of his car and went around to open the trunk. He took out a duffel bag, closed the trunk, then headed up the path toward the garage apartment.
“How was the evening?”
Startled, he whipped around. Jasper was sitting in the dark on the screened porch, idly rocking in his chair. Drex gave him his good-neighbor smile. “You were missed. Feeling better?”
“Much.”
“Bad oysters, Talia said.”
“Must’ve been. Did you like the restaurant?”
“Superb. Thanks for the recommendation.”
A light came on. Talia appeared as a silhouette in the open doorway between the kitchen and porch. She looked at Drex but didn’t say anything. Jasper turned to her and extended his hand. She went to him and linked her fingers with his.
The gesture spoke volumes, the message was clear: We’re a pair, a united front.
Drex covered a yawn with his hand and hitched his chin toward the staircase. “Well…I’m bushed. Good night.”
Jasper responded with a good night.
Talia said nothing.
Drex climbed the staircase. The screen door was unlocked, but he used his key on the solid one. Inside, he crossed the living area in darkness, went into the bedroom, and switched on the lamp on the rickety nightstand. Then he returned to the bedroom door and shut it, preventing prying eyes from seeing him unzip the duffel he’d retrieved from his trunk. He took from it his laptop, binoculars, the audio surveillance equipment, FBI ID, and pistol.
Since connecting Talia to Jasper in Key West, he’d taken these items along whenever he went out. As a precaution. Just in case someone came searching the apartment. Someone to whom a locked door wouldn’t be a deterrent.
And if someone did come snooping, he wanted to know it.
So he’d taken another precaution.
He picked up the lamp by its base and lowered it to the side of the bed where he had sprinkled talcum onto the floor, but not so much that it would be noticeable unless one was looking.
“Huh.”
Between the time he’d left for his dinner and now, the powder had been smeared, as though someone had knelt at the side of the bed, perhaps to look beneath it or between the mattress and box spring.
He set the lamp back on the nightstand and switched it out, picked up the binoculars, opened the bedroom door, and went into the living room. At the window, he focused on the house next door. There were no lights on inside, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t being watched.
Jasper had never intended to make that dinner date. He’d had other plans for the evening.
Drex huffed a soft laugh. “Bad oysters my ass.”
Chapter 13
Talia never touched the latte.
She had bought it only to rent a table, which were in short supply. The coffee shop was an offshoot of the ground floor lobby of the multistoried medical building. This morning the place was crowded; the baristas were bustling to fill orders.
Talia surmised that countless patients had come here following medical procedures or examinations, the outcomes of which were either cause for celebration or cause for an immediate reevaluation of one’s priorities.
At a table near hers, a young couple was laughing into a cell phone, sharing obviously happy news on FaceTime. Also nearby was an older couple. The woman was crying softly into a tissue while the man sat with shoulders slumped, his features haggard, his eyes glazed with despair.
Talia’s emotions fit somewhere in between. She wasn’t happy, but she refused to let hopelessness set in.
“Talia?”
She raised her head. Drex Easton was standing over her.
“I thought it was you. I spotted you from…” He paused in jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the lobby and leaned down to take a closer look at her. “What’s the matter?”
She bowed her head again and pressed her fingertips against her forehead. He was the last person she would wish to bump into right now. She simply wasn’t up to dealing with him. Rather than engage at all, she chose to retreat. She picked up her handbag and stood. “I was just about to leave. You can have the table.”
But as she moved away, he closed his hand around her biceps, stopping her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t say nothing. Something. Are you sick? Did Jasper have a contagious bug after all?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Let go of my arm.”
“Talia—”
“Let go.” She pulled her arm free.
He reached for her again.
“Everything okay here?”
Talia hadn’t noticed the approach of the other man until he was right there with them. He divided a concerned look between her and Drex, landing on Drex, a frown of stern disapproval forming between his eyebrows. She then became aware that other customers had stopped what they were doing to observe them.
Drex said, “Yeah, pal, everything’s cool.”
The man didn’t excuse himself or back down, but continued to glower at Drex with suspicion.
Drex glowered back. “I said, everything’s cool.”
Ignoring him, the man looked at her, asking softly, “Ma’am?”
She swallowed. “Everything’s fine.” Her smile was wobbly and unconvincing, so she added, “I’m was upset, am upset, about…about…”
“A
bout her dad’s diagnosis,” Drex said. “They’re close.”
Talia marveled at the ease with which he lied. Going back to the stranger, she said, “I appreciate your concern. Truly. But I’m fine. I just needed some air.”
“Sure, honey.” Drex shot the man a dirty look as he brushed past him, then, cupping her elbow, maneuvered her out of the coffee shop.
He guided her across the lobby to a seating area that was sectioned off by a row of potted plants. They lent some privacy, but Talia didn’t want privacy with Drex. Nothing good had come of the times when they had been alone; Jasper seemed not to like it, and, besides, Drex’s smarmy behavior of the night before was still fresh in her mind.
He motioned for her to sit down on one of the padded benches.
She shook her head. “I have to go.”
He looked at her with consternation. “You’re upset.”
“I wasn’t until you intruded.”
He just stood there, an imposing presence she couldn’t go around without creating another scene. She plopped down on the bench. He perched on the edge of another that faced hers. She moved her knees aside so they wouldn’t be so close to touching his.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing. You’re making way too much of—”
“Something’s wrong. I can tell.”
“How can you tell? You don’t know me well enough to gauge my moods. You don’t know me at all.”
In a sudden move, he leaned forward and said with heat, “And that’s eating at me. A lot.”
The change in his bearing was discomfiting. She reclined back to compensate for his nearness. “Why should it? If my whole world is caving in, what business is it of yours?”
“Is your whole world caving in?”
“No!” she exclaimed.
“Then why were you sitting there, staring into your coffee so morosely?”
“Morosely?”
“Till I looked it up, I didn’t know what it meant, either.”
“I know what it means, and so do you.”
“All right then, what made you morose?”
“Lord,” she said, huffing a breath. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”