Moonlight Masquerade (19 page)

“For us. You and me together.”

“Mmmm,” was all Sophie could say. Her bottom was snuggled against the bare maleness of him. She
wasn't a virgin, but in this she was. She'd never spent a whole night with a man. There'd always been other people waiting for her or she'd had responsibilities elsewhere.

Reede kissed her neck and pulled her even closer. “Roommates if you want.”

She was finally beginning to understand what he was saying. “I would like to get out of Kim's house. I feel that I'm encroaching. But us together? No, it's too soon.”

“I know it's too soon, but I also know my own mind. When something is right, I know it. There's been a lot of . . . Well, more than my share of women, but I've always held something back.”

He didn't have to give his reason, but she knew it. One time he'd given his all to a woman and she'd thrown it back in his face. It wasn't easy to recover from rejection like that—as she well knew from her own life experience.

“Sophie, you bring out the best in me. You make me want to . . . to be nice to people.”

She couldn't help laughing at what he'd said. “But you
are
nice.”

“Not really, but that's not the point. I want you to get to know me better. The real me.”

“This isn't the real you?” Her voice was teasing as she ran her hand over his bare chest.

“No,” he said, and he was serious. “You're going to find out things about me that you don't like.”

“I stole a cookbook,” Sophie blurted, then put her hand over her mouth.

Reede chuckled. “I don't think shoplifting is a cause—”

“No!” She turned in his arms to face him. It was too dark to see his face but she could feel him looking at her. “Earl's real name is Lewis Carter Treeborne the Third. He's heir to the Treeborne fortune and I stole their cookbook.”

It took Reede a moment to understand. “You mean the Treeborne cookbook that the ads say is the basis for all their foods?”

“Yes,” Sophie said. Her body had gone rigid and it suddenly seemed too intimate to be so close together. But when she tried to pull away, Reede wouldn't let her. She didn't know why she'd told him and now he probably thought she was a horrible person.

“I guess this was the package you wanted sent back?”

Sophie nodded.

To her disbelief, Reede began to laugh.

“It's not funny!” she said. “I'm a
thief
!”

He tried to get himself under control as he snuggled her down against him. “You told me he said you were . . . What was it?”

“A summer romance.”

“I guess that means he had someone else all along.”

“Oh yeah. A girl named Traci, and her father and Mr. Treeborne are friends.”

Reede lost his humor as he began to see exactly what had been done to Sophie. She'd been used by some rich kid, then discarded when it was time for more serious matters. “I'm sorry,” he said. “That shouldn't have happened to you. To anyone, for that matter. Did you make a copy of the cookbook?”

“Of course not!” she said, sounding indignant,
then lowered her voice. “Besides, it's written in code.”

“Code?”

“That's what it looks like or maybe it's some obscure language I've never seen before.”

“Wasn't the woman who wrote it Italian?”

“That's what Treeborne Foods says, but who knows?”

Reede was quiet for a moment as he stroked Sophie's hair. The spread was over them, and it was warm in the room. “Do you think this guy Carter will come after you?”

“If he knew where I was he might. I don't really know him. I thought I did, but I don't.”

“I think you know him rather well,” Reede said. “He lies without conscience. He's ruled by his domineering father, and he's greedy. In order to get his share of the company he'll court and probably marry whomever will further the business. Does that sound about right?”

“It sounds exactly right,” she said.

“So where is it?”

“Hidden in plain sight,” she said. “Middle drawer of Kim's desk. I'll be glad when it's gone.”

“I'll take care of it.”

She smiled in the darkness and his words comforted her so much that sleep began to take over her. Reede was so warm and he made her feel so safe that she soon dozed off.

Reede held her and he felt her fall asleep, but he was wide awake. His mind was too full of all that was going on in his life for him to be able to sleep soundly.

Sophie had turned his world upside down. A week ago all he could think about was how many days
before he could get out of Edilean forever. He complained about Betsy's
x
'd calendar, how she counted the days until Tristan returned, but the truth was that Reede checked that calendar a dozen times a day. He too counted the days. How long was it before he could leave and go back . . . Back to what? To flying from one town to another, from one danger to the next?

There were times when he'd been so lonely, when he'd missed home so much that he'd wanted to leave right then.

He kissed Sophie's forehead, and she snuggled closer to him. She made him feel needed. She made him feel as though he had a purpose in life, a place to go. She made him feel that he belonged.

When Sophie turned over in his arms, he slipped out of bed, opened Kim's bedside table drawer, and withdrew a flashlight. He hadn't told Sophie it was there.

Reede made his way into the living room and removed the torn envelope from the desk drawer. It didn't take him long to dress and slip out the front door. He needed food and he needed someone to talk to.

Reede raised his
hand to tap on the window of the diner, but Al saw him and unlocked the door. Many times Reede had been out all night with a patient and had stopped at Al's for breakfast. The diner wasn't open yet, but Al would fry a couple of eggs and toast bread. Reede would sit at the bar and eat and they'd talk while Al made coleslaw for the day.

“What are you lookin' so glum about?” Al asked as he poured Reede's coffee. “Everybody in town knows you spent the night with that little doll Sophie. After they turned out their lights, that is.”

When Reede looked up with a doleful expression, Al chuckled. “Let me see if I get this right. You're in love with her but she thinks you're somebody else and when she finds out the truth that you, from what I heard, nearly killed her, she's gonna hate you.”

“I think ‘love' is a little strong. I only met her a few days ago,” Reede said.

“And you two haven't been apart since she came to town. So what mask are you wearin' today?”

“I was thinking of a motorcycle helmet. I'd say the clasp was broken and that I can't get it off.” Reede looked at Al as though asking his opinion.

“Ever think of manning up and showing her your naked face and taking the consequences?”

“No,” Reede said honestly.

Al shook his head. “I'll give it to you that you two have done a lot in the time you've had. Last night I heard that somebody tried to blow up the whole town. That true?”

“More or less.”

“And that your girlfriend stopped it?”

“She was the one who identified the thief. Peter Osmond.”

“That insurance guy?”

“He's an actuary, but yeah, that's him. He's in custody now.”

Al put a plate of eggs, bacon, ham, and heavily buttered toast in front of Reede. It was all swimming in grease. Not good for you, but the taste was divine.

“I hear you rode down the streets on one of the McTern horses. Had on those girly boots, like in that movie
Pretty Woman
.”

“Not exactly, but close enough,” Reede said.

“And you and that girl walked across the roof of the old Haynes house.”

“It was inside and on a beam, not the roof, and who told you all this?”

“Who hasn't told me? Those three women you boss around come in here all the time and they don't talk of anything but you. They say you're not like—”

“Don't say it!” Reede half shouted. “I'm not Tristan.
Model beautiful, loved by everyone, always patient Tristan. He's so good I don't know why he hasn't been taken directly up to heaven.”

Al was unperturbed by Reede's anger. “Same reason the devil ain't reachin' up to grab
you
!”

Reede filled his mouth and calmed down. “So what am I going to do about Sophie?”

“Nothing,” Al said. “Nothing you can do. You nearly killed the poor girl. I heard she had to jump into some trees just to keep from being run down by you. You examine her bruised places?”

“No, I didn't examine—” Reede stopped because he knew Al was trying to make him angry. “I like her. I like her a lot. I've not liked a woman this much since—”

“Don't dive into that pool of self-pity again!” Al said as he put a couple of quarts of mayonnaise on the cabbage he'd chopped. That mayonnaise was one of the highest calorie foods known didn't bother him at all—and he had the giant stomach to prove it. “That Chawnley girl did you a favor by dumping you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Reede said as he put even more butter on the already saturated toast. “If I'd married her and I met Sophie now, it would be even worse.”

Al started to say that if Reede were happily married he might not be so interested in another woman, even one as pretty as Sophie. But he didn't say that. Instead, he took pity on the young man. “How bad is it for you?”

When Reede looked up at Al, all he felt was in his eyes.

Al gave a low whistle. “All of you oldies seem to fall
so hard for a woman that it eats you up. I'm glad my family is a Newcomer.” Al's ancestors had settled in Edilean in the 1880s. “You need to make a plan. Hey! I know what you should do.”

Reede looked up with eyes of hope.

“Get a mask tattooed on your face. It'll hide your identity forever.”

At first Reede frowned, but then he gave a low laugh. “I guess I deserved that. I know I'm going to have to come clean eventually and take the consequences.”

“That would have worked at first but now you've lied to her for days. My guess is that when she learns how you've humiliated her in front of the whole town she's gonna be pretty damned mad. If she's anything like my wife she'll wait until night and set your bed on fire—with you in it.”

“You are a real joy,” Reede said. “I'm so glad I came to you for advice.”

“You came here for my gourmet cuisine,” Al said without so much as a hint of a smile. “The advice is free.”

Reede had finished his food, but he still sat there on the stool. “You know of a house I can rent for Sophie?”

“Don't your rich relatives own most of this town?”

“Yeah, but I'm looking for something special. It has to have a place where she can do her sculpture. She makes things in clay.”

Al stood there blinking at Reede for a moment. “You mean like an art studio?”

“Exactly like one.”

“Old man Gains's wife used to do crafts and he
built her a little place out in back of their house. Between you and me I think she was more interested in getting away from him than in twisting all those weeds around wires. But then the tourists seemed to like them.”

“Barry Gains? Isn't he—?”

“In a home in Richmond now. After his wife passed there was no one to take care of him and his Alzheimer's was bad.”

“So what happened to the house?”

“It was rented out until six months ago, but that guy moved. It's empty now, and the realty company is supposed to be looking after it but they don't. You wanta get it for your Sophie? Like the pumpkin eater?”

“What does that mean?” Reede asked.

“Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater, had a wife but couldn't keep her; put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her very well,” Al quoted.

“You know, don't you,” Reede said, “that all those old rhymes are based on truth. Some man probably locked up his philandering wife and some smart-ass made a rhyme about it.”

Al didn't blink. “You want the house so your would-be wife doesn't take to philandering? Keep her busy making mud pies?”

Reede started to defend himself but changed his mind. “I want to keep her from leaving town when she finds out the truth about me. And stop looking at me like that. Desperate men do desperate things. You have the number of the Realtor?”

“On speed dial. My wife is handling the place—and if you're helping on the rent I'm going to tell her to
double it because she's got a tenant who will pay anything for a pumpkin shell.”

As he got up to leave, Reede didn't protest because being overcharged on rent was the least of his worries.

When he got to his car, he reached under the seat and withdrew the envelope containing the Treeborne cookbook. He'd told Sophie that he'd make sure it was sent to his friend in New Zealand, and he meant to. What he hadn't promised her was that he wouldn't look at it—or make a copy of it. Sophie seemed to think—hope—that the Treebornes wouldn't press charges, that if they got their precious cookbook back they wouldn't tear the world apart looking for her.