Tall, Dark, and Deadly Read online

  That did it. Sam decided it was time to go. She stood. “I guess I should be getting back. Joe, no hurry.”

  “Oh, Sam!” Loretta said, looking up guiltily. “I, um, I wanted to tell you. I was actually thinking of joining the gym, you know. I mean, everyone at my office belongs—”

  “Yes, and we appreciate it,” Sam said. She looked sternly at Joe. “Marnie made everyone join when Joe and I were starting out.”

  “She knew a good thing,” Joe said with a smile.

  Sam forced a smile. “Well, why don’t you two just finish lunch, and when you’re through, come on back to the gym, and we’ll be all set!”

  “Sam, I can come with you now—” Loretta said.

  “And leave Joe to finish by himself? I wouldn’t hear of it. He can, however, pay the check.” Sam gave a wave, then determinedly left them.

  She wasn’t really ready to head straight back to work, but she had no particular aim in mind. Driving south, she saw the facade of the Cocowalk Mall ahead of her, and on a whim, she made a right onto Main Street, then turned down Virginia to head into the parking garage.

  Once parked, she wasn’t sure what she was doing there. Shopping, Laura had told her once, was a surefire cure for any restlessness. There was a store here that carried great workout clothes. She could always use more.

  She stopped at a kiosk for a cappuccino, then wandered around the second floor of the mall in a circle, heading for the store. Halfway around, she paused.

  An iron-railed balcony looked over the front of Main Street. The tables of an open-air bar lined the railing.

  Rowan was there, dark hair swept smoothly back, sunglasses in place, bronze good looks shaded by a baseball cap. He was casually seated, sipping a beer. He was there with Kevin Madigan and two other men.

  She slipped quickly behind the standing menu to one of the mall’s restaurants—trying to hide without being obvious—to see who else was with Rowan and Kevin.

  The one man she quickly recognized as Eddie Harlin, the nondescript real estate attorney. Slim, with thick, black-rimmed glasses, he looked very young, except for his wispy, thinning hair. He might have been the college brain, the valedictorian. The other man…

  She knew him. She’d seen him before. She couldn’t place where, or when. And he was definitely a striking individual, one who would be noticed. He was bald, but not by chance; he had a clean-shaven head. His eyes were large, dark, deep blue. He was big and husky—even sitting, he looked tall.

  Then it hit her, like a brick. Lee Chapman! She had seen his face in the paper dozens of times. He was reputed to have Mob connections, though he was supposed to have done the killing himself in the shootings with which he had been charged. He shouldn’t have been walking the streets, but his lawyers had gotten him out on bail.

  “Hey, there’s Sam!” Kevin said suddenly. As always, he was pristine, suave, and totally smooth in a designer suit. The heat didn’t get to him—he never seemed to sweat. He stood, waving at her, and she realized that once she had recognized Chapman, she had come out from behind her hiding place. She was there, all right, in front of them—gaping. Nowhere to run, that was for sure.

  “Kevin!” she said, trying hard to sound casual.

  He stood up and pulled out a chair for her. “Come on over, have a drink with us!”

  “Thanks, but…”

  The four of them were standing politely. She couldn’t see Rowan’s eyes; they were shaded by his dark glasses. He didn’t move. Kevin came around to take her elbow and walk her toward the table. “Sam you know Eddie, right? Eddie, you’ve met Sam Miller—”

  “Of course,” Eddie said, taking her hand. “Hi, Sam, good to see you. Join us?”

  “And Sam, Lee Chapman. Lee, a friend, Sam Miller.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. He smiled, aware that she knew him by reputation—and didn’t approve. “It’s nice to see you all, but—”

  “Sit down, Miss Miller, please,” Rowan said.

  “No, thank you. I don’t want to interrupt your business—”

  “You’re not interrupting any business,” Rowan said flatly, still an enigma behind his dark glasses. “Eddie and I were talking about property earlier—you did suggest that there might be other spectacular places around, remember?”

  “Yes,” she told him.

  He smiled. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew that smile didn’t touch them.

  “In fact,” he continued, “our discussion at the moment will surely interest you. We were talking about our mutual next-door neighbor. You haven’t seen her yet?”

  “No, but the police—”

  “Yes, of course, they’re on the case,” Rowan said. “What would you like, Miss Miller?”

  “What?”

  “To drink, Miss Miller.”

  “Nothing, really. I have to go back to work myself.”

  “But you own your own business, don’t you?” Lee Chapman asked, leaning forward.

  “Yes.” She wondered how he knew.

  “So… you can be late if you choose,” he said.

  “And go back with beer breath if you so desire,” Kevin said cheerfully. “It’s a great gym, Lee. Best place in town.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured and determinedly remained standing. “It’s a great place because both Joe and I show up for work—without beer breath!” She tried to say the words lightly, without sounding like a self-righteous prude. No good. She could see the small smile that flitted across Chapman’s face. Even Eddie Harlin was smirking. “It was good to see you all,” she added lamely. The men all stood as well. Kevin bent to kiss her cheek.

  Cheek kissing. It was big in Miami. Maybe because of the Latin American influences. She prayed that Chapman wouldn’t come near her. He didn’t. Neither did Rowan.

  “Good day, Miss Miller,” he said.

  She nodded, and started off, feeling ridiculously awkward. She almost stumbled over a chair behind her. She recovered and walked quickly away, heading for the elevators to the parking garage. She hit the wrong floor, wandered around, realized her mistake, and entered the elevator once more.

  When she came out into the gloom, she saw her car right away. Yet as she headed toward it, she heard footsteps behind her.

  She swung around.

  Chapman. Goose bumps shot up her arms.

  “Miss Miller,” he said casually, “how nice to run into you again.”

  “I, uh, I lost my car.”

  “Lost it?”

  “Misplaced it for a minute.”

  “But you’ve found it.”

  She was suddenly loath to point out her car.

  Chapman grinned. He was indeed striking—in a rather evil fashion, she thought.

  “I’m not in the least dangerous to you,” he said quietly. He came closer to her. She was tempted to turn and run.

  “Ah, Sam! There you are!”

  She was startled to hear Rowan’s voice. And there he was, casually walking toward her. She was startled when he slipped an arm around her. If Chapman hadn’t been there, she would have wrenched away.

  But she didn’t. And Rowan, a bit taller than Chapman, gave his enigmatic, sunglasses-shadowed smile. “I was hoping to catch up with you, my love.”

  “Ah…” Chapman murmured. “I’d heard there was something…”

  “There is,” Rowan said flatly.

  “Well, then, you must convince her that I’m not the evil demon I’m pointed out to be!” Chapman said. “Just a good old Southern boy, a hunter, fisherman—why, honey, I even have a license to hunt gators. I just wanted you to know that if I can help in any way, call on me. I need your friend back. More than anyone.”

  He smiled. They smiled back. Waited for him to leave. He didn’t.

  Then he lifted his hand, indicating the Jaguar behind them. “That’s my car,” he explained politely.

  “Oh!”

  Sam moved away from it; Rowan came with her, his arm still around her. Chapman slipped into his car. He gunne
d the motor and drove away.

  She could breathe in Rowan. Feel him from head to toe. It was more than she could handle. She pulled away quickly. “What was that all about?” she asked. She meant to be indignant, but she just sounded breathless.

  Rowan stepped easily away. Here, in the shadows of the garage, his expression was more fathomless than ever. “I just thought that it would be a good idea for him to think that you’re protected.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “Do you think—”

  “I don’t think anything. There’s your car. I’ll watch you drive out.”

  “I come here all the time. I can manage—”

  “Fine.”

  She started toward her car, wishing she didn’t feel so awkward. Lost. She felt as if she faltered every single time she spoke with him.

  She opened her car door, stepped in. He was right beside her, arm on the top of the car, leaning down. “I noticed you didn’t protest while Chapman was around.”

  “I didn’t want to make a liar out of you,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  She lifted a hand vaguely. “All right, next time I’ll make a liar out of you.”

  She thought he might have smiled. “Drive safely,” was all he said. He closed her car door and walked away.

  Chapter 9

  Loretta sat in Sam Miller’s office waiting. She was glad to have had lunch with Joe—it had been so much fun. She’d thought he was about to ask her out, but maybe he was a little shy, waiting. And then again, she had told him she’d only feel right if she had Sam show her around the gym. Maybe he’d been planning to ask her out after the tour; she was thinking that maybe she should have gone ahead and let him do his spiel, but she had felt her conscience nagging at her ever since lunch, and so she knew she had to talk to Sam again. Why Sam had taken so long to get back, she didn’t know, but she would just have to wait at this point.

  She needed to get back to work herself. She was perhaps the only employee at the law firm who didn’t belong to the gym; it was true, Marnie could be a mover and a shaker when she chose, and she had set fires beneath everyone to join when Sam had first bought into and opened the place. If Loretta wasn’t careful, she’d be out here on a very extended lunch hour, and she would run smack into one of her bosses.

  She grew restless and stood up. Sam’s office was a great little place, with one-way smoked glass, a simple pine desk, matching file cabinets, comfortable swivel chairs, and pictures everywhere. A handsome older couple. Mother and father, Loretta assumed. Her own were fine, decent, hardworking farm people from Georgia, but once each of their nine children had hit the age of eighteen, they’d been out of the house and on their own. Her parents had never smiled quite like that in any picture. Another picture on the wall showed the three of them together. There were pictures of another couple, pictures of children.

  Lacey. Lacey Henley with her folks at about two. With her brother and Santa Claus a few years later. Lacey Henley graduating from high school. Her brother playing with his group. Four Henleys together. Family pictures all over the walls, the desk, the filing cabinet. A beautiful little boy with blue eyes and blond hair.

  Lacey Henley again.

  Loretta bit her lower lip. What had she done? she wondered. Nothing wrong. Really, nothing wrong.

  Suddenly she stopped in her tracks at what she saw through the smoked-glass window. There was Mr. Daly. Mr. Lawrence T. Daly, head of the whole law firm now that his partners had chosen retirement. An older man, but one with eagle eyes and striking energy. He was on a treadmill, going hard and fast. He seemed to be walking off his frustrations.

  His eyes rose to the glass. For a moment Loretta thought he was looking straight at her. Then she remembered the glass was smoked.

  The door opened. She swung around, ready to jump out of her skin. It was Sam at last, who jumped herself, at seeing Loretta. She’d come in looking a bit perplexed, her beautiful hair tousled, her eyes very green and troubled.

  “Loretta!”

  “I’m so sorry, I startled you.”

  “I had no idea that you’d wait for me.”

  “I needed to see you again.”

  “What is it?” Sam asked, throwing her shoulder bag into a file drawer. She had shaken off her worried look and was smiling, embarrassed at being so startled.

  Loretta hesitated. She wished she’d gotten to this at lunch. It would have been easier once they were involved in conversation. As it was, she had so little time.

  “I waited for you to see the gym—”

  “Oh, of course. Come on!”

  Sam had opened the door again. Daly was right outside. She couldn’t talk now.

  Sam saw Daly. “Oh! This way!”

  She pulled Loretta down a hall. “Treadmills and step machines, bikes are all that way. And trust me, no one can stay on a Stairmaster like your Mr. Daly.”

  “Oh, I believe you.”

  “This is the weight room…” Sam said, and her voice trailed off. Loretta quickly saw why. Phil Jenkins and Teddy Henley were both in there, one spotting the other as they worked bars for their biceps and triceps—appreciable muscles on both men.

  Phil was spotting Teddy at the moment. He looked up, saw them both.

  “Hello, there, Samantha, Loretta,” he said gravely.

  Ted Henley quickly set the bar on the rests, turned, and rose from the bench where he’d been working. He grabbed his towel, staring at them.

  Loretta had the feeling they’d both just been waiting for Sam to show up.

  “Hi, ladies,” Ted said.

  “I haven’t seen you here in the daytime in ages,” Sam said.

  Ted shrugged. Phil answered. “He’s here questioning people. He asked me who was supposed to be working at Marnie’s Friday night, but no one was. He’s got the phone numbers of all my subcontractors anyway.”

  “I’m just trying to find out if anyone has seen Marnie. Has she appeared anywhere that you might know about?”

  “No,” Sam answered him. “Have you done anything, gotten anyone to work the case?”

  “Yes, of course. And I’m giving it my own free time as well,” Teddy assured her. He smiled at Loretta. “You haven’t heard from her, right? Have you any ideas, anything at all?”

  Loretta shook her head, wondering if he could see the flush that was spreading over her body. She couldn’t tell Ted Henley what she meant to tell Sam.

  “Um… well, you know, there was a plainclothes man in the office this morning, Detective Henley. He said that he was handling the case, since it was a missing-persons situation.”

  “I’m just pitching in because it means so much to Sam here.”

  “And because of your own friendship with Marnie, I should hope!” Loretta said innocently.

  Teddy was wearing very dark glasses. They didn’t hide the tick in the vein at his throat. She felt a sudden sense of deep unease. She would never betray Lacey to her father!

  “Of course,” he said.

  “He’s grilling the hell out of me!” Phil Jenkins announced. Buff, sweating, macho-looking, and a little scary himself, Phil seemed to be staring at her as if he knew too much. About what? Loretta wondered. She was becoming paranoid of everyone.

  “Questions, questions, questions,” Phil said. “This guy earns his paycheck, all right.”

  “And I’m sure you’re trying to help,” Sam said.

  “Damn right.”

  “Well, I’m glad.”

  Phil grinned. “Marnie Newcastle owes me money.”

  “Oh, I see,” Sam murmured. Sam didn’t care much for

  Phil, Loretta thought, watching them. Then she started, realizing that Detective Ted Henley was watching her. “Didn’t know you two girls were friends,” he said.

  “We met one another at lunch, and we realized that Loretta didn’t belong to the gym and that she wanted to. And we’ve got to get going—Loretta has to get back to work,” Sam said. “Thanks for the interest and hard work, Teddy.”

 
Loretta felt Sam’s hand on her shoulder as Sam ushered her quickly along. “I really do have to get back to work, but I need to tell you something quickly.”

  “What?”

  “Not here.”

  “My office—”

  “Mr. Daly is right outside.”

  “I’ll walk you out to the parking lot.”

  And still, when they were in the parking lot at Loretta’s car, she found herself tongue-tied again. What she was doing came near to being a breach of trust. Not to mention the fact that now, with hindsight, she was a bit dismayed about some of the things she had done herself. But as far as Lacey Henley went, she had already set things in motion.

  Sam leaned against Loretta’s car, amber-specked eyes on her, waiting patiently.

  “I just… well did you know that… well, you do know Marnie. She thinks you didn’t know, but when she was trying to get through school—”

  “She was a stripper. Yes, I knew.”

  Loretta paused. “She thought you didn’t know.”

  Sam shrugged. “She didn’t want me to know. Why would I talk about it?”

  “Well, when she was starting out, she worked at a place down here, too. On the highway.”

  “Was she working there recently?” Sam asked, frowning.

  Loretta hesitated. “She has an interest in it.” Again Loretta hesitated, then she plunged in. “You see, I got a job there, rather anonymous, just part-time, after work. Then Marnie looked in my bag one afternoon, thinking someone had left it, and saw my outfit. I was so afraid that she was going to fire me. But she started to laugh. And she came back in to the club one afternoon. Since then, well, she has an interest in it I think.”

  “You’re still working there?”

  Loretta flushed. “It’s honest money—”

  “Loretta, I never said it wasn’t!”

  “It’s a very nice place, of course.”

  “Of course. Why are you telling me about it?”

  “Well… a girl named Eva Larson worked there once, too.”

  “So?”

  “So, Eva supposedly ran off. But her folks never believed it.”

  Sam frowned deeply then. “Eva was the secretary who disappeared?”