Her Dark Lies
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“You’ve been staring at me since I walked in here,” Sam said. “Is it because I’m beautiful, or maybe my eyes are too close together?” He winked and flashed a dazzling grin.
The first time he’d said that to her she thought his remark was funny. She’d also thought the man who could say something like that without cracking up had to be an actor. Now, with him looking at her as if she were a meal he planned to devour, she wondered if maybe he wasn’t an actor after all.
It had taken two weeks of watching for this chance to get a glimpse inside their office. They’d been closed since noon yesterday when they’d left for another job. Their only break until last night hadn’t allowed enough time to catch them leaving their office again, so she needed another opportunity—and soon.
She looked down at the papers in her hand as she tried to think. The only clue she’d found about this couple was that they’d been living in San Francisco when one of them died from cancer. A woman’s will had come through their lawyer saying that both had signed a document naming each other sole heirs of the other one.
It listed Sam’s name next to hers, but there was no mention of why or where he lived.
Sam stood up. “What did you find out about our friend who hired us? I know what happened to the money your husband left behind.”
A chill ran up her spine. What was he talking about now? “I can’t tell you anything about him. Not yet anyway. Maybe not ever.”
He stepped toward her. “We’re going to have a lot of questions to ask him and then we’ll see what happens—”
“No,” she whispered as a sudden memory surfaced. When she’d read the letter that had said she would inherit $1 million if she married Sam, she assumed he didn’t mean her husband, even though his name appeared on the letterhead. Instead, the money would belong to Sam alone if he ever died before she did.
That letter hadn’t given her any details of how she could make that happen except to marry the man who was listed as the sole heir. But there weren’t many men willing to take a woman as old as she was. Even some widowers wouldn’t consider marrying someone who was over forty years old unless the wife had been barren. So Sam never mentioned it again.
She knew he had no intention of asking her to marry him even if she wanted to go back to his place right now. And she certainly didn’t want to do that. Her days with Sam had changed her life forever; they’d made her feel young again.
She’d never felt that way about anyone else. She couldn’t let him die before she did and leave everything to someone else just because she had decided to help people with his inheritance. She couldn’t live with that choice.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“To see how fast I can get out of town without getting caught.”
***
After leaving the law office, Sam stopped at a telegraph office on the same block as his office to send a message to New York: “Call at your earliest convenience for additional information on the will.”
He’d already told his boss what he wanted to discuss, but he didn’t know how much his employer would reveal. In addition to being a lawyer, Mr. Gentry was also an investigator. He might have heard or uncovered more details than Sam had.
Sam had sent a similar wire the day they’d left on their first job to keep his boss apprised of his activities while they were out of town. His boss would know by this time today when Sam called.
Sam rode his horse slowly, keeping pace with the carriage. It was hard to believe that three hours ago he was sitting beside this beautiful woman in a hot air balloon. How she managed to talk to him as easily as she did still amazed him.
He’d watched her every move during their journey across San Francisco. She’d seemed totally unaware of his gaze. He’d never seen her so relaxed when in his presence, nor had she spoken about how her family had been kidnapped. That was something else that bothered him.
When she’d gotten sick in the balloon, the only thing that concerned her was whether she could land safely on the water. If she’d cared about anything else, she’d have told him about it, but instead she’d kept her feelings to herself. She was very private about things and that worried him, too. Did she really care for him as much as she claimed or was she playing a different game altogether?
Now he was back where he’d begun his day, waiting outside their office as if he were a cuckoo trying to get inside a birdhouse. It took almost an hour to wait patiently before he could enter the building. He’d never waited this long before. Why did he feel like he was wasting time?
As soon as he walked into the foyer, a tall man wearing black trousers and a white shirt and tie stood up from the desk where he worked. “Mr. Deveraux, what can I do for you?”
“I need to see my client and then I’ll be gone.”
“Your client is here, sir. I’ve arranged for you to see her immediately after the meeting.”
Sam nodded. “Thank you. You’ll be paid for your services, won’t you? We can discuss the amount later.”
“Of course.” The man smiled. “You’re always welcome—”
“Wait a minute!” A woman’s voice interrupted. “Didn’t you say there was a Mr. Deveraux who could speak with me?”
Sam turned around. She must have come from the elevator on the far side of the room. She wore a simple gray dress with a white collar and buttons down the front. There was nothing fancy about it, which suited him fine since he had no intention of impressing her or trying to make her feel sorry for him. “Yes,” he said. “It’s me—Sam.”
She looked up and met his gaze with eyes filled with surprise. She didn’t appear intimidated or frightened by his appearance, but neither did she show any emotion when looking at him. He hadn’t expected that either.
For a moment, he thought maybe she was mad at him for not coming in person and making sure she saw him. Then she smiled; it was a smile that reached deep into those dark brown depths and touched her face with warmth. It wasn’t the kind of smile he’d expect from a woman who had been married eight times and lived in the middle of a bustling city.
“I’m happy to see you, Sam.” She stepped closer and gave him a light hug. “And I’m pleased you finally decided to call.”
Sam returned the hug and felt his heart pounding against hers. She was warm. Too warm for the season, but she was real. Not just words. This time the kiss she’d given him lingered for longer than a few seconds. It was a soft brush of lips, followed by her tongue tasting the corner of his mouth.
They stayed locked together until she broke away and looked deeply into his eyes. He couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw or felt because all she did was continue talking. “What were you doing outside our door anyway? We agreed you wouldn’t interrupt me again.”
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “It was an emergency—”
“Don’t worry about it, I understand. But let’s go sit down.” Her eyes moved over his head. “You look tired.”
“I am.” He sat down on a wooden chair in the waiting room, and she sat down next to him, facing him directly. When he tried to take hold of her hand, she shook her head and leaned toward him. With one finger she traced the scar on his forehead.
“I know about the other men in your life, Sam. I’m not surprised you were so eager to get out of town. I guess we both needed some space.” She smiled, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or not.
“How did you find me?”
“A friend told me where you might be staying while in New York. That was quite a long search, wasn’t it?” She shrugged. “You should have taken better care of yourself.”
“I will. I promise.”
They sat silently for several moments, staring at each other. Finally, she asked, “Are you hungry? Do you want me to order something for you?”
He shook his head. “No thanks. We’ve got plenty of time to talk. Let’s start with why you’re here in New York.”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“I thought you had someone else working with you.”
“Actually I don’t have anyone else working with me. I’m doing this alone.”
“But you hired me—”
“For one day only,” she added quickly. “That’s the way it’s going to be. You’ll work with me today and that’s all.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea.” She frowned. “All I know is that we have to stop a murderer.”
***
“This doesn’t make sense,” Sam said. “How can I help you catch a killer who may still be alive? And how are you going to explain why you need me on a job like this?”
The woman’s face showed no emotion as she answered, “I have a plan.”
“So do I. My plan would involve killing that man before he kills anyone else.”
“You’re not serious.”
“We both have to be very careful, Miss Deveraux.”
“I think you should call me Abby. It suits me much better.”
His mind wandered back to their kiss. The taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume, the soft touch of her hand against his face—it all seemed to blend together and linger in his mind like the memory of a dream.
He knew what she’d done was wrong, but she was right: it wasn’t like him. She hadn’t used any weapons during their brief encounter, and he doubted she’d use them now. He didn’t believe she’d hurt him.
“Okay, Abby.” He grinned. “Let’s say we agree to work together. What exactly is my part in this mystery?”
She pulled up a chair. “First we’re going to meet your boss. Then we’re going to talk to him in person. I’m not giving you his name yet because I’m afraid of what he might do to me.”
“Sounds like we’re on the same side.”
“Maybe.”
“If we’re on the same side, why would he kill you?”
“Because he’s a cold-blooded killer.” She paused and then took a deep breath before continuing. “There’s another reason why you’re here.”
“What?”
“Someone else is working with us.”
“Another man.”
“I can’t confirm that.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “But let’s keep that information to ourselves for the moment. I’m guessing that means he’s in danger from someone, and I suspect we’ll need protection too.”
“How are you protecting us? From what?”
“Who knows? All I know is that you have to stay close to me when we leave the hotel. Don’t let anyone see you. Keep your hands free—no pocket knives, guns or anything.”
“Why?”
“Just do as you’re told. This could be dangerous.” She stared at him. “And it might turn into something more than either of us expects. Just remember that I’m doing all I can to protect myself and everyone involved.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” She nodded once, then stood up straight again. “Now, we have to go downstairs and meet Mr. Jones.”
Jones was waiting for them by the front desk, wearing a dark suit and a white shirt with a blue necktie. “Abby,” he said, extending his hand.
“Mr. Jones, nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. “Please call me Abby.”
She didn’t mention the two other men in the room. Instead, she introduced them. “Sam, this is my partner, James Bond.”
“James Bond!”
“It’s a nickname. We all call him that. Now, we’re off to see your boss. Are you ready?”
He nodded. “As long as you are.”
Their walk down the hall turned out to be longer than Sam expected. They walked past a number of doors, most of which were closed. Several people watched them pass. None of them seemed to pay particular attention to the four strangers heading toward the end of the hall.
Sam wondered if some of them were the killers they were supposed to be stopping. If so, it meant there would be three more bodies lying in pools of blood tomorrow morning.
The front door opened, and he saw an elderly couple enter the lobby. They smiled at each other and made small talk as they approached the front desk. A bellboy stood behind it, handing one of the men at least ten tickets.
After the ticketed guests exited the building, the bellboy gave Sam and Abby each a ticket. He also handed them each a key. One key had been given to the elderly couple. Another key was for the manager’s office; a third key unlocked the front door.
Their fourth key was for the basement. He tried to imagine how many keys were needed for this operation, but he couldn’t come up with any answers.
The old man asked the clerk a question, and Sam assumed the clerk answered because they continued on their way without saying goodbye. As soon as they left the lobby, Sam stopped walking.
“We should go back inside.”
“Why?”
“I want to make sure that nobody follows us.”
They waited a few minutes. No one appeared to be following them. After watching the front door closely for a while, Sam signaled for her to follow him back upstairs.
They found Jones at the front desk, sitting behind his desk and typing on a computer keyboard. “Everything’s okay now. Your boss is safe.”
“Thanks,” she replied.
“I hope everything is going well.”
“Yes, we met our boss. We talked to him in person and learned his real name. That’s the good news.”
“Then you’re not leaving with him?”
“No. We’ll be going to San Francisco.” She glanced at him, then looked away and took a deep breath. “But don’t tell him yet. Just get me his address.”
***
“You look tired.”
Sam nodded. “That’s understandable after a hard day’s work.”
“I thought you were supposed to be resting.”
“Resting is overrated.”
“It’s time for bed,” she said.
“Not yet.” He held up his hand and glanced around the room. “Do you mind if we listen to the radio before we go to sleep?”
She shrugged. “I guess I could put it on for background noise.” She turned down the lamp beside the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “There’s nothing much on anyway. Maybe I can read some more.”
“Let me change first.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it onto a chair. Then he removed his boots and socks and stretched his legs out on the bed. His head hit the pillow just as the news announcer started talking about the assassination of the president and the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy in Dallas, Texas.
The assassin was Lee Harvey Oswald. There had been no motive yet offered by the FBI, and President Johnson had ordered full investigations into both incidents.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered as she turned off the light. “Are you listening to the news?”
“No, it’s just what I hear.”
His words startled her, and she jumped up. “You weren’t supposed to hear those reports! What if someone overheard us?”
“We’re far enough away from the city that it shouldn’t matter.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“Abby, it’s time for bed. Please come lie down with me.”
“We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“And that includes sleeping through the night.” He reached out and took her hand, and she laid it against his chest. “Just close your eyes for a few minutes, and then I’ll take you right home.”
She hesitated. She didn’t know if that was possible. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. When he lifted her chin, she closed her eyes. He placed two fingers under her chin and raised it. With her face in the darkness, his lips came down gently on hers, and his tongue slipped between her lips.
It tasted of whiskey and cinnamon. She wanted to pull away but didn’t have the strength. His fingers slid under the hem of her blouse, and one hand caressed her bare skin. Then he pulled it away, and she heard the sound of something being torn apart.
A moment later, her bra fell from her shoulder, and his hands moved to her waistband and tugged on it. The next thing she knew, she was lying on top of the sheets, completely naked.
He rolled over and pulled her closer, and his kisses continued along her neck and earlobe before reaching her lips again. They kissed slowly, deeply, passionately, and she felt herself melting into him.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.
He chuckled and said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Please, don’t ever leave me alone again.”
For an hour or two, he seemed content to hold her. She didn’t think anything would happen, but then suddenly his fingers were under her shirt, stroking her back as he kissed her breasts.
She moaned softly in his mouth, then grabbed his hair and pushed his head down as she arched her back. In response to her silent command, he licked and nibbled all along her abdomen until she cried out in ecstasy.
The End