Read The Devil Makes Three Online
Authors: Julie Mangan
Of course, lying fit Corbin’s personality better than Collin’s. But then, according to Corbin, Collin was as dishonest as the rest of us. Pulling out the mental list of personality flaws, I added compulsive liar to Collin’s column.
I pulled myself together slowly, adding a little extra fluff to my hair and flair to my makeup in an effort to forget my insecurities and problems.
An hour later I caught the Central City bus. The roads had been plowed and the snow piled high up on the curb forcing me to stand out on the street to get the driver’s attention so I could board.
Once at the mall I went to PJ’s PCs first and collected my new laptop. Katie wasn’t working, but the guy at the counter knew the whole story and forked over my new computer with little explanation past instructions to call Katie if I had any problems. From there I went back to the salon where I’d had my first manicure and got my nails touched up and repainted. I tipped the manicurist well again and left, passing the bleached blond I’d met the first time I was there on my way out. With a sigh of relief we passed without words. She probably doesn’t remember me, I thought. I wish I could say the same. Just the memory of her remarks made my face flush.
Moving into the center court of the mall I forced myself to forget her. I found a map and looked for a shop that would have the type of dress I wanted. I knew the large department stores wouldn’t have what I had in mind, so I focused on smaller boutiques. Luckily, it only took me three hours to find a store that had an acceptable dress.
Actually, it was more than acceptable. Eyeing myself in the mirror I couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction. The tension brewing between Corbin and I would get set on fire with this get-up. It was floor length, black and backless. Exactly what he had asked for. What he hadn’t asked for was the way it accented my decent curves, making them look better than enticing and the slit up the side that showed off my leg if I stood just right. Best of all, the emerald necklace dangling from my throat looked fabulous with it.
I didn’t even bother to look at the price tag. I had the envelope of money Corbin had given me the night before in my bag. That would more than cover the cost. All I needed now were killer shoes, a garter belt and thigh high stockings.
At five minutes to 8:00 that night I was ready to go. I had all the things I needed including an elegant hairstyle and a fresh manicure. Emerald earrings dangled from my lobes. I had stolen them from a corpse about six months earlier and hadn’t liked the price they’d fetched, so I hadn’t sold them. I’d horded them away, trying not to think about them ever since Corbin had placed the necklace around my neck.
I had also purchased a new dress coat with a loose hood that covered my hair, but didn’t disrupt my style. Checking myself in the mirror I verified that he wouldn’t get to see a thing until I took the coat off.
He arrived at 8:00, peering into my bathroom at me in the mirror. Screaming, I turned around and clutched my hand to my chest. “How did you get in here?”
“Take the coat off.”
“No. How did you get in here? I had the chain drawn.”
“So? That never stops me. Take the coat off.”
“No. Trust me. The dress is killer. You can’t see it yet.”
He grinned. “Killer? That’s apropos. Did you like your present?”
I turned back to the mirror and fixed the hood of my coat. “It’s a little manly, don’t you think?”
“I like knowing you’ve got some punch to protect you; not a wimpy Smith and Wesson.”
“Is it stolen?”
“It’s safe to assume so.”
“So I’m betting it’s not registered in my name, or yours.”
“That would be correct. Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”
Hawkeye preceded us out of the apartment and Corbin watched him scamper away with distaste. “I don’t chase cats.”
“You don’t have to. He’ll come in when I get back.”
A sporty black car waited at the curb. Opening the door for me, he held my hand as I sat down and tucked the coat around me. So far he had seen nothing. Giving me a wry smile he shut the door and crossed over to the driver’s side.
“You better be careful,” he said, sliding behind the wheel. “If that dress really is killer than you might have another nocturnal visitor tonight. The vibes you’re putting out are possibly more than I can resist.”
“Try.”
He drove through town to the neighborhood rumored to house two senators and the governor, not to mention numerous celebrities both local and national.
“What are we doing here?”
“I told you. We’re working.”
“I’m not going to get arrested as an accessory to something am I?”
“No. You’re going to be a distraction. And with any luck no one, including you, will realize the job has been done.”
“I take it we’re not going to raze the building to the ground then.”
“Hardly.”
He pulled up to a house and a valet opened my door. Another opened Corbin’s and we both got out. Looking around I couldn’t help but notice the expansive grounds. The house was huge and the line of hired help at the door was daunting. Sensing my initial hesitation Corbin pulled an official looking invitation from his pocket and flashed it at the line of servants. They nodded graciously and gestured us inside where a 24-piece orchestra played while a large crowd mingled and a smaller group danced.
A butler and maid met us just inside the door and took our coats. Stepping out of mine majestically I made sure Corbin watched. Posing for him just right, the slit fell open and my leg was bared up to the thigh. “What do you think?” I asked, though his reaction was clear upon his face.
“I think we should do this quick and go back to your place. I bet that thing falls off real easy.”
The host and hostess met us at the door, greeting us both happily. I had no clue who they were, and was certain they felt the same, yet they had no trouble overlooking it since we had made it past the initial guard.
“Enjoy yourselves, my dears,” the hostess said, glancing from me to Corbin. If she knew him she didn’t particularly display it other than the way she eyed him up and down with hunger. He wore a tuxedo that fit him perfectly and accented his trim, muscular, figure.
Taking my arm once more he led me to the dance floor where we joined the couples swirling about. Nervously, I clutched to him, fearful of my surroundings and the reasons we were there.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, nuzzling under my ear.
Taking a breath I smelled his cologne and nearly fainted from pleasure. “These people,” I said forcing myself back to reality.
“What about them?”
“They’re terrifying.”
“Why?”
“Because. Look at them. They could eat me alive.”
“Never. The only person in this room you have to worry about is me. And that’s for obvious reasons.”
I smiled and nudged closer to him. “I don’t worry about you.”
“You should, Temptress. You know what they say?”
“What do they say?”
“You and me and the Devil makes three.”
Or four or five depending on how many people you’ve got in there. My grin widened at the thought and I rested my forehead on his shoulder. ”So what now?”
“I’m working on it. Give me time. These things can’t be done in a complete rush, although I am moving faster than I intended.”
“Is the dress really that good?”
He took his eyes off the crowd around us and met mine. “The dress is simply a teaser. It’s all of you this evening.”
“What do you think your odds are of actually getting anywhere with me?”
He smiled. “Pretty good, considering what you have settled for in the recent past. Temptress, I’ve got moves you never even dreamed of.”
After two dances he led me to the bar where he collected two glasses of wine and tipped the bartender generously. Turning to look at the room, we sipped our drinks casually. The thought crossed my mind that he was good enough to have slipped something into my glass when I wasn’t looking. But then, it wouldn’t get him anything he probably wasn’t already going to get so I didn’t worry too much.
“Alright. Here we go. There is a woman over in the chair across from us. She’s wearing a red dress and has a feather in her hair.”
“The one who looks like she could be Moses’ mother on a vaudeville stage?”
“That’s the one. I want you to go over and strike up a casual conversation with her.”
“About what?”
“I don’t care. Pick anything. Ask her about the feather. Better yet, tell her you’ve lost your date. She hates men and will love putting all kinds of nasty ideas in your head.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Work.”
“And what I’m doing isn’t work?”
“It’s a distraction.”
“Oh goody. We’re not conning some old lady out of her life savings, are we?”
“I don’t con people. Get to it.” He nudged me away from the bar and goosed me on the rear. Turning back to shoot him a dirty look, I found him gone.
I took a deep breath and surveyed my quarry. She had to be about a hundred years old. How hard could it be, carrying a conversation with her? I would just start her off in some direction and nature would take its course with the usual week-long stories the elderly were prone to share. If it had a point I’d die of shock.
I circumvented the dance floor slowly and came to the seat next to her. “May I sit here?”
She didn’t respond.
Licking my lips, I raised my voice, careful to keep it still low enough not to draw attention to myself. “May I sit here?” I repeated.
She looked my way and furrowed her brow. I motioned to the chair and she nodded with slightly lowered lids then turned back to the dancers. Her entire countenance said I wasn’t worth the time it took to notice me. Shifting tactics, I decided it unwise to prematurely underestimate the lady. Instead I decided to go with Corbin’s idea.
“I seem to have lost my date. I’m not sure where he got to,” I said conversationally.
“You could try the rooms upstairs. The more wily ones always find a way past the help.” She practically yelled her response, causing more than one couple to turn our way.
“I’m sorry?” I feigned innocence but could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“What?” she asked, cupping her hand over her ear then waving it in dismissal, certain I had nothing of value to contribute. “Men. They’re all the same,” she yelled. “My husband had a heart attack at one of these things. They found him in the kitchen with a red scarf clutched in his hand.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not. He left me a hefty trust account and my youth. It was over 50 years ago.”
“And you never remarried?” As if anyone would marry the deaf, beastly old bat.
“Ha!” She scoffed at me. “Get remarried? Are you a simpleton? Why on earth would I want to do that? Men are nothing but scoundrels. There’s not one that’s worth a damn. Take your date for instance. Leaving you all alone. For what? Where did he go? Just disappeared. Any man worth his salt wouldn’t let you out of his sight. But no. And you’re part of the problem. When he comes back you’ll smile and simper right along with him, taking him back and giving him everything he wants. And why? Because you’re scared that if you don’t, you’ll lose him for good.”
It sounded like I was getting a slice of life according to a scorned therapist. Just what I needed: a bitter old woman projecting her own personality shortcomings onto me while the social elite of the state stood around listening and tittering. As if I didn’t have enough humiliation in life. “Actually, I don’t care what he does. He’s my cousin. I’m just here with him to get out of my aunt and uncle’s house for the evening.”
“Cousin! Kissing cousin I bet. I remember my sister and our cousin Ronald.”
I was all set to excuse myself before I got a mental picture I didn’t want, when Corbin slipped his hand onto the back of my neck. “There you are. I lost you in the shuffle.”
The old lady stopped and stared along with the rest of the party, then snorted something that sounded like ‘cousins’ once more. Standing up, I politely excused myself.
“It was wonderful talking to you. Thank you for your insight.”
She snorted once more and turned away. Corbin smiled at her and took me by the arm, pulling me towards the door. As we made our way through the party-goers, I couldn’t help but see their chuckles and whispered speculations.
“So what did you do?” I asked. No bombs had gone off, no women had screamed and no guns were fired, leading me to believe that he hadn’t done anything at all. He had probably just sat back and watched me make a fool of myself for the hell of it.
“Plenty. Keep walking and smiling.” He began to nuzzle my neck as we got to the door and my toes curled in my shoes, my breath caught in my throat and all points in between stood at attention for any other contact.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Giving you a preview. And giving us an alibi to get out of here. Now play along.”
“Play along? They all think we’re cousins now.”
“Trust me. They know we’re not cousins.”
Deciding it safer not to argue, I allowed him to continue lavishing me with enticing behavior. He walked behind me, his hands at my waist, my hair over my shoulder and his lips to my ear in simulation of whispering sweet nothings. The maid and butler appeared moments later with our coats and we were out the door.
As if by some weird sort of telepathy, the valet had Corbin’s car waiting and he opened the door for me. Corbin walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel. Pulling from the driveway, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Pushing one button, he put it to his ear and waited. When he began to talk, it was with a husky purr to his tone.
“Mabel. You know I love it when you answer my calls,” he said with a smile.
I couldn’t help but bristle. Here I was, all set for a night of something I felt certain I’d regret and he flirted with someone else on the phone.
“You’ll be interested to know that a party is in full swing at the Warren Estate. And when I say party, I mean party. Full on. Lots of politicians to fill your holding cells for the 10 minutes it takes their lawyers to get them out.” He paused for a moment then continued. “You’ll want to be especially sure to snag Senator Watson. He was last seen on the third floor with a needle and crack in his pocket.” He paused once more. “Well, you know me. Always anxious to do the right thing.” With that, he snapped the phone shut and slid it back in his pocket.