Eye of the Beholder (26 page)

“Yeah?”

“Trust me, it was a full-time job. And I already had a full-time job running Elegant Relic. The combination did not leave me much time for meditation seminars or dates.”

He nodded. “So, in a way, you could say that I was the reason you haven't had much of a social life for the past year.”

“Yes, you could say that. Now, if we might return to the subject at hand?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“What do we do now? Sit back and wait until we get more data from your investigator?”

“No.”

“No?” Curiosity flickered in her intelligent eyes. “Just what do you think you can do that a professional investigator can't?”

“I'm not sure yet. I'm still thinking about it.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“I've got a couple of ideas.” He met her eyes across the table. “But the first priority is to make sure you're safe.”

She stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“If I'm right about Bell being behind this, he wants
you out of the picture, but he probably doesn't want to take the risk of doing something too drastic.”

“I don't know about that. What happened this morning at Liz's house seemed pretty drastic.”

“I think the son-of-a-bitch may have sent someone to frighten you.”

“Why do you say that?”

Trask hesitated. She'd been through enough today. He did not want to add to her anxiety level. On the other hand, she was as involved in this as himself. She needed to look at the whole picture. He decided to lay it on the table.

“Bell's not stupid. Killing you is not only unnecessary, it would be an extremely risky move. Two violent deaths in one week in a town the size of Avalon would probably make even Chief Strood start asking questions.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Especially after you leaned on him a little?”

“I'd have done some leaning, all right.” He helped himself to one of the leftover chocolate mints. He munched without tasting anything. It would probably make Alexa nervous if she knew that he would do more than lean on Strood if anything happened to her. He would tear Avalon apart.

“If your reasoning is right,” Alexa said, “then we can conclude that the last thing whoever is behind this wants is a serious criminal investigation. That means I'm probably safe.”

“I'm not making any assumptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even though Bell probably doesn't want to do
anything more than scare you into staying out of the picture, I think we should take precautions.”

“Trask, try to bear in mind that we don't know that Webster Bell is behind any of this.”

“That's beside the point. We're discussing precautions, remember?”

She sighed. “Okay, okay. What precautions do you suggest?”

He thought about it. “As far as the days go, a few prudent steps should be sufficient.”

“What steps?”

“We'll make sure you're not alone or isolated for any extended period of time, the way you were yesterday. He's not likely to try anything chancy in broad daylight if there are witnesses.”

Alexa considered that. “A comforting thought, I suppose. But, for the record, I think you're overlooking a really large issue here.”

“Which is?”

“If you're right about any of this,
you're
the one who's in danger, not me.”

His spirits lifted. “Worried about me?”

“Well, yes, now that you mention it, I am.”

“Thanks. I'm touched. Now then, as far as the nights go—”

She gave him a sharp look. “What about the nights?”

“There are a couple of ways we could go about this.” He kept his voice calm and deliberate. He wanted to make himself sound rational, logical, and reasonable. He did not want her thinking that he'd gone over the edge with his paranoia. “You could stay with me at the hotel.”

“Move into your hotel?”
She stared at him. “Are you crazy?”

“Alexa, be reasonable. Avalon Resorts provides round-the-clock security for all guests. It's discreet but professional. You won't even be aware of it.”

“Forget it.” Her chair scraped as she shoved herself back from the table. “I have absolutely no intention of moving into the Avalon Resort & Spa. I want to stay right here in my own home, thank you very much.”

“All right, plan B is to send a member of the Avalon security staff over here in the evenings to keep an eye on things.”

“Now you're talking about providing me with a bodyguard.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts. Her shoulders made a stiff, angular line. “I don't like the sound of that either.”

“There is a third alternative,” he said as casually as possible.

She gave him a suspicious look. “If you're about to suggest that I leave town for a while, you can save your breath. I've got a business to run. Besides, I'm not about to walk away from this thing.”

“I know you won't leave town. I'm not even sure that would be a good idea.” He made himself sound patient. “What I was about to suggest is that I stay here at night with you.”

She said nothing, just looked at him as if he had suddenly begun to speak in an incomprehensible foreign language.

“I would, of course, sleep on the couch,” he added politely.

“The couch?”

“I realize that your neighbors won't understand the situation.
Conclusions might be drawn.”

“The neighbors? I don't give a damn about the neighbors. Everyone in town has already concluded that we're involved in a torrid affair.” Her jaw tensed. “Even though it was only a one-night stand.”

He looked at her. “I don't know how it was for you, but for me it was definitely a very
torrid
one-night stand.”

She gaped, clearly bereft of words.

“Alexa, be reasonable. Given the Dimensions connection and the fact that Guthrie may have been killed because of it, we have to take your experience today very seriously. If I'm not with you at night, I'm going to lie awake sweating.”

“Why?”

“I won't be able to sleep because I'll be worrying about your safety.”

“Oh.”

“I need my rest.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It's settled, then,” he said. “I'll spend the night here. On the couch.”

“That won't be very convenient for you, will it? All your things are back at the hotel.”

He thought of the small, plastic Avalon Resorts amenities kit he'd stashed in the Jeep's glove compartment before coming here tonight. It included a razor and a condom. Who said he couldn't think positive?

“I'll get by,” he said.

24
 

The ringing of the phone brought Alexa out of the first decent night's sleep she'd had in days. She came awake thinking that her alarm had gone off early.

The phone rang again, shrill and menacing. She glanced at the window and realized it was still dark outside. The numbers on the clock glowed green in the shadows. Two-fifteen
A.M.

“Oh, damn.”

She sat up in bed and stared at the phone as if it were a cobra.

A shifting of the shadows in the doorway broke the spell. Trask. She was suddenly very glad that she had allowed him to sleep on her couch. The sight of him reassured her in ways she did not want to examine too closely.

He had taken the time to put on his chinos, but he had not yet zipped them. She glimpsed a wedge of white.

Another ring sounded.
Pull yourself together, Alexa. And for heaven's sake stop staring at the man's briefs.

“Answer it.”
Trask came toward her through the shadows. Moonlight glinted on the fierce planes of his face. “Make sure he knows you're not alone.”

She reached out and picked up the phone.

“Who is this?” she demanded.

“Think he'll still want to go to bed with you after he finds out about the McClelland Gallery forgeries?”

Alexa froze. “What do you know about McClelland?”

“Enough.”
The voice was muffled and distorted again.
“This will be your last warning. Stay away from Trask or he will be told everything.”

“He's right here. Why don't you tell him everything right now and save yourself the time and—”

Alexa broke off, wincing when the caller slammed the receiver down in her ear.

“Let me have that.” Trask took the phone from her hand and quickly punched in the code to activate last call return.

Alexa held the sheet to her throat and waited tensely. Eventually someone picked up the phone on the other end.

“I know this is a pay phone,” Trask said roughly. “Did you see whoever it was who just used it?” There was a pause. “Kids? Are you sure there aren't any adults around? Did anyone just drive off?”

Alexa listened as he went through the same litany of questions she had asked the night she had tried to trace the call. She was not surprised when he got nowhere. Eventually he hung up the phone and turned to look at her.

“Another all-night convenience store,” he said. “No one saw whoever used the pay phone last.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Alexa muttered. “Who
would notice anyone using a pay phone at a convenience store unless he tied up the line for a long time?”

“What did he say this time?”

“The caller? He was a little more direct and to the point than usual.” She tightened her grip on the sheet. “He didn't mention dark vortices and approaching storms. He tried blackmail instead.”

“The McClelland scandal?”

“Uh-huh.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Interesting that Bell knows about that.” Trask sounded thoughtful.

“As I keep reminding you, we don't know for sure that Webster Bell is the one making those calls. Besides, everyone in Avalon recognizes him on sight. I don't see how he could skulk around twenty-four-hour convenience stores late at night without being noticed.”

Trask eyed the phone. “He could be using someone else to do the dirty work.”

“In any event, the McClelland scandal isn't exactly a state secret. At least not in the art world.”

“But someone outside that world would have to do a little digging to find it, right?”

“I should think so, given that the story is over a year old now. There hasn't been an article in the trade press on the McClelland forgeries in months.” She shuddered. “Believe me, I'd know.”

“Yeah, you probably would.”

“You're a good example.” Her brows rose. “You didn't even find out about the McClelland scandal until
after
you bought a fortune in early-twentieth-century art and antiques. And you're what most
people would call pretty sharp about not getting conned.”

“I don't claim to be sharper than the average guy when it comes to avoiding a con, but I'm probably a lot meaner than some folks if I find out I've been had.”

She was dismayed to realize that his not-so-casual warning had the power to hurt her. What had she been thinking? That their adventures together during the past few days had formed a deep and lasting bond? Sheer fantasy, as Trask would be the first one to tell her.

“I'll keep that in mind,” she whispered.

He did not move. He just continued to watch her from the shadows near the bed. But there was a disturbing stillness in him now that had not been there a moment ago.

“For the record,” he said quietly, “I don't give a damn if it turns out that I'm the new owner of the best collection of fake Art Deco in the known universe.”

For an instant, she felt nothing at all. And then fierce rage flowed into all the empty places inside her.

“Just what the hell do you mean by that?” she demanded.

“You heard me.” He took a step closer to the bed. “I'm trying to tell you that what's going on between us isn't connected to that damn art collection.”

“What is this? Am I supposed to be grateful?”

He stopped at the edge of the bed. “I'm trying to explain something here.”

“I know that.” She scrambled to her knees and gathered the sheet around her as if it were a chain-mail
cloak that could protect her from his words. “And I know where you think you're going with your stupid explanations, but it won't work.”

“Where did I think I was going?”

“To bed. With me. For another one-night stand.” She felt the heat rise in her face, but it did not slow her down. Her anger was stronger than her embarrassment. “Forget it.”

“Alexa—”

“Talk about lousy seduction lines. Did you really believe an insulting remark like that would persuade me to hop back into bed for a little convenient sex?”

His eyes glittered in the shadows. “How did I insult you? I was trying to tell you that I don't give a damn about the art collection.”

“That's supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy?” Her voice rose. “Telling me that you still think there's a good possibility that I defrauded you, but that you're willing to overlook it because you've got a hard-on is your idea of irresistible sweet talk?”