Truth or Dare (20 page)

He hesitated, trying to come up with something appropriate to say. Unfortunately there weren't any good platitudes for this particular situation. He knew that from personal experience.

“For what it's worth, I know the feeling,” he said evenly.

Nelson swung around, looking genuinely shocked. “You do? Jesus, man, you've only been married, what? Six weeks?”

It dawned on him that Nelson assumed he had implied that Zoe was having an affair. For an instant, the world around him vanished. A terrible red haze took its place.

A stark vision of Zoe leaving him for another man seared his synapses. The floor dissolved beneath his chair and he felt himself falling down a bottomless pit.

With an effort of raw willpower, he pulled himself back to reality.

“I'm not talking about Zoe,” he said. “I was referring to a, uh, previous relationship.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right.” Nelson nodded. “I read somewhere that you've been married three or four times.”

Something clicked in Ethan's head. “You read it somewhere?”

“Did a little background research on you before I came here today.” Nelson started to wander aimlessly around the office,
pausing here and there to study various artifacts. He stopped in front of the framed crayon drawing that Theo had made of a house. “Came across the references to three former wives but I didn't see any mention of kids.”

“Probably because I don't have any,” Ethan said without inflection. “My nephew did that drawing.”

Nelson moved on to the bookcase and plucked a volume at random. Ethan recognized the red-and-black cover. It was a scholarly history of early-nineteenth-century murder cases in San Francisco.

Nelson flipped through the pages, not paying any real attention. “So which wife cheated on you?”

In point of fact, it had been two out of three for sure and he still had his suspicions about Wife Number One. The leader of the religious cult she ran off to join hadn't looked like the monkish type. But Ethan saw no reason to go into detail. He was not in a mood to do the male bonding thing with Nelson Radnor.

“I said I understood some of what you're going through.” He picked up his mug and examined the cold coffee. “Didn't say I was going to tell you my life story.” He decided the coffee wasn't worth drinking and lowered the mug. “Why don't you get to the point and save us both some time?”

“All right.” Nelson closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. “I came here to hire you to find out who she's seeing.”

“No.”

Nelson turned around to face him again, irritated. “Hell, I'm not asking for any professional favors. I'll pay you your usual hourly rate.”

“No.”

“Okay, I'll pay you
my
usual hourly rate. What is that? Two? Three times higher? Name your price. Whatever it is, you got it.”

“Forget it.”

“There's a pattern,” Nelson said through his teeth. “I tumbled into it a few days ago. Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. I checked our bank account. There have been regular withdrawals of cash every week for the past month.”

“I said no. I meant it.”

Nelson took three strides across the room and planted his hands on the desk, face working now. “I can't use one of my own people on this. The gossip would spread through the company in about thirty seconds. I don't need that kind of aggravation.”

“I am not going to take the job. I hate divorce work. It's always bad and it's a thousand times worse when the client is a friend or professional associate.”

“This isn't personal. It's business.”

“Divorce work is never
just business,
” Ethan said. “You know as well as I do that regardless of how much he claims to want the truth, the client is never real happy to hear it.”

“I'm not exactly your average Joe Client. I'm a pro. If you come back with the name of the jerk my wife is seeing, I won't blame you.”

“Sure you will. What's more, you won't ever forget the fact that I took pictures of your wife going into a motel room with another man.”

Nelson looked stricken. His mouth opened and closed convulsively.

He recovered his composure with visible effort and straightened. “You don't have to go all dramatic on me,” he muttered.

Ethan could tell the guy was cracking up inside. Radnor loved his wife.

“Did you try asking her where she goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays?” Ethan said cautiously.

“No.” Nelson shook his head emphatically. “She'll make up some story about going to the gym or the hairstyling salon. I don't want to hear it. I need to know the truth.”

He was afraid to ask her, Ethan realized.

“Look,” he said as gently as possible, “I plan to work here in Whispering Springs for a long, long time. That means that you and I will be running into each other on a frequent basis. There will be more business conflicts like the one we've got now with the Valdez job. We'll see each other at various restaurants around town. Find ourselves at the same gas station some days.”

“So?”

“So none of that will be a real problem for either of us if we go on as we are now. Like you said, we're both pros. We can handle the competition. But it will turn real nasty and real personal if I confirm your worst fears about your wife for you.”

Nelson looked at him for a long moment.

“You're serious, aren't you?” he said at last. “You're going to turn down the job.”

“Yeah.”

Nelson gave the office another dismissive survey. “From the looks of this place, you could use the business.”

“Maybe.” Ethan shrugged. “But I won't starve without it.”

“No, you won't, will you? Got a hunch you can take care of yourself just fine,” he said tightly. “Is Zoe okay with the idea of you being a small-time operator?”

The question caught Ethan by surprise.

“Thought I explained that I prefer the term ‘niche player,' ” he said.

“Right,” Nelson agreed. “Niche player. She doesn't mind that you are no longer the high roller that you were in LA?”

“Zoe tells me that I'm pursuing a calling.”

“Got a romantic view of the profession, does she?”

“Guess so.”

“I used to have a romantic view of it myself.” Nelson went to the door and paused, taking another look around. “Back when I was just starting out, I thought it would be great to have an office like this. Maybe have a cute, smart-mouthed receptionist out front. Get mysterious lady clients walking through the door. Maybe sleep with some of them.”

“Sleeping with the client is usually a mistake.”

“Tell me about it. How do you think I met my wife? But then, I guess you know all about what happens when you get involved with a client, don't you? Rumor has it that's how you met Zoe.”

Ethan said nothing.

Nelson did not seem to expect an answer. He went through the doorway, crossed the outer office and let himself out into the hall.

Ethan sat listening to Radnor's heavy tread on the stairs and thought about how they had both violated the most basic rule of the profession.

If he had it to do all over again, would he still sleep with Zoe while she was technically a client? Would he still come up with an excuse to rush her into marriage? Knowing the risks involved, would he have worked so hard to convince her to give what was supposed to have been a sham marriage a real chance?

In a heartbeat.

26

A
t five-thirty that afternoon he got to his feet, stretched, picked up his notebook and went downstairs to consult again with his consultant.

He walked into the gloom of Single-Minded Books and found Singleton in his tiny office, hunched over his computer.

“Are you dozing or are you actually working?” Ethan propped one shoulder against the door frame. “I'm not paying you for sleeping on the job.”

“Long-standing tradition for a consultant to sleep on the job.” Singleton removed his glasses and massaged his temples. “Thought you knew that. Hell, half the time I walk into your office, you've got your feet on your desk.”

“That's a sign that I'm doing some deep thinking.”

“Deep thinking, huh? I'll have to remember that.” Singleton
pried himself away from the computer and swiveled his chair around so that he could squint at Ethan. “Your deep thinking produce anything useful?”

Ethan flipped open his notebook. “Lindsey Voyle appears to be exactly who she claims to be. Thirty-nine years old. Married to a big-time studio exec who divorced her last year to marry an aspiring actress half his age.”

“Gee, what a surprise.”

Ethan ignored that. “Lindsey and her husband lived the glitzy life. Parties, film premieres, political fund-raisers.”

“Whispering Springs must be something of a comedown for her. She do any actual decorating?”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan flipped another page in his notebook. “Must have been the designer of the moment for a while back in LA. She decorated several homes and offices for some major stars. Looks like the divorce was nasty, even by Hollywood standards. But she came out of it with enough cash to buy a house in Desert View and start up a new business. No history of financial or legal problems. No mysterious gaps in the record.”

“Well, you got the easy one, didn't you?” Singleton drummed his fingers on the edge of his keyboard. “Mine was a little trickier.”

“You got the tricky one because you are an expensive consultant who gets the big bucks for handling tricky stuff. Any luck?”

“Made contact with our old buddy the Merchant.”

A tingle of anticipation shot through Ethan. The Merchant was the mysterious on-line broker who had sold Arcadia and Zoe their new identities when they escaped from the asylum.

“And?” he prompted.

“And he swears that no one has hacked into his system. Says that if someone has found Arcadia, he didn't get the info from his files.” Singleton paused.

“I hear a but.”

Singleton exhaled slowly. “The Merchant is good but there is always someone else who is better, and there is no such thing as a perfect false ID. Just ask some of the folks who didn't survive the government's witness protection program.”

“True.” Anticipation stopped tingling. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy. What had he been thinking? “And there are other ways to find people besides hacking the files of the guy who sold the target a fake ID.”

“You ought to know. You do it all the time.”

“Grant Loring made a living running various sophisticated financial scams,” Ethan said slowly. “Guys like that always do a lot of research. I think we can assume that, if he's alive, he knows more about Arcadia's personal financial secrets than she thinks he does.”

“Well, we've got one thing going for us,” Singleton said. “The Merchant feels he owes me a favor because of what happened when Zoe's files were stolen a few weeks ago. He says he'll make some inquiries on his end. Chances are good, given his line of work, that he has access to some sources that I don't even know about.”

Ethan tapped the notebook absently against the door frame. “It's not like we haven't got a clue here. Thanks to Arcadia, we know a hell of a lot about Loring. If he is on the move in our neck of the woods, he'll leave some tracks.”

“She said he was the careful, cautious type.”

“He's definitely not staying in a hotel or motel here in town. I spent the morning checking out that possibility.”

“That just leaves all of metropolitan Phoenix.” Singleton grimaced and stretched his arms over his head. “The good news, like you said, is that we've got a lot to work with, thanks to Arcadia. When I talked to her this morning, she gave me a complete list of Loring's personal eccentricities as well as his business habits. I know what he likes to eat, his favorite wines, his taste in clothes, cars, sports, the works.”

“A woman who has lived with a man knows a hell of a lot more about him than he realizes.”

“Probably because women pay attention to those pesky little things in life that us guys prefer to ignore. It's your wife who worries about your cholesterol levels and reminds you to get your prostate checked.”

“Huh.” Ethan thought about that. “None of my ex-wives ever worried about my cholesterol or my prostate. You think maybe that was an indication that they weren't committed to a long-term relationship?”

“Could be. Has Zoe mentioned your prostate yet?”

“No. But I noticed this week that she moved me up to an SPF forty-eight-plus-strength sunscreen.”

Singleton whistled. “That explains that new, youthful glow.”

“Any more sarcastic remarks and I won't let you play with my new emergency flares.” Ethan straightened away from the door frame, turned to leave and then hesitated. “By the way, Jeff told me that he had a long talk with you. He's obviously feeling a heck of a lot better. Thanks.”

“That conversation went both ways.” Singleton looked at his computer screen as if he saw something of great interest there. “I got as much out of it as he did.”

“Glad to hear it. So when are you going to ask Bonnie for a date?”

“Aren't you supposed to be somewhere doing some detecting?”

“As a matter of fact, I got to go home.” He glanced at his watch and headed toward the door. “Zoe will be waiting.”

“Lucky you,” Singleton said.

He said it so softly that Ethan could barely hear him.

 

Zoe was in the small Casa de Oro parking lot when he arrived. She was struggling with her large black tote and two hefty grocery bags that she was trying to pry from the trunk of her car. Her position, bent at the waist and leaning forward, gave him a nice view of her excellently shaped rear. He admired the sight as he got out of the SUV.

Zoe had managed to get one sack stabilized in the crook of her arm and was groping for the other when he reached her.

“I'll get those,” he said.

“Ethan.”
Startled, she nearly banged her head on the trunk lid. “Didn't hear you.”

“Probably because I have trained myself to move in a very stealthy way.”

“Is that so?” She glanced down at his shoes. “I figured it was because you were wearing sneakers.”

“These are not sneakers.” He scooped the sack out of her arm. “They are high-tech, state-of-the-art running shoes.”

“Ah. That explains it.”

He snagged the second bag out of the trunk and waited while she closed the lid.

Together they walked to the green, wrought-iron gate.

“Well?” She dug her doorknob key chain out of her tote and opened the gate. “How did it go today? Did you dig up any information on Lindsey Voyle?”

“I know you don't want to hear it, but she appears to be exactly who and what she claims to be—a recently divorced decorator from LA who just opened up a business here in Whispering Springs.”

“Doesn't it strike you as strange that someone from LA would choose a town like this to start over in?”

He just looked at her.

Her brows snapped together. “Okay, so you're from LA and you came here to start over. See? That proves my point. Your background isn't exactly normal.”

“And I try so hard.”

“You're not taking Lindsey Voyle seriously, are you?”

“Honey, I swear, I looked at every possible angle. Up until she moved here her entire life was dedicated to decorating the homes of movie stars and drinking very expensive champagne with the rich and famous. There is no mystery there.”

“But—”

“I don't claim to be psychic but you've said yourself that my intuition isn't too bad when it comes to this kind of thing.”

Her surrender, when it came, was distinctly reluctant. “I suppose.”

He caught her chin on the edge of his hand and brushed his
mouth against hers. When he felt her mouth soften a little under his, he raised his head.

“Have a little faith in your personal private investigator, okay?” he said.

She gave him a wan smile. “Okay.”

He followed her through the gate. “I didn't come up with anything real exciting on your decorator nemesis, but I did have an interesting visit from my competition today.”

“Nelson Radnor?” She glanced at him, brows knitting in fresh concern. “About the Valdez job? I was afraid he would be upset.”

“Not too upset to offer me gainful employment.”

She made a face. “He made you another offer of a position at Radnor? I'm not surprised. You would be a huge asset to his company. I trust you turned him down?”

“Actually, he wanted to hire me to trail his wife. He thinks she's having an affair.”

“Oh, no.” She halted in the middle of the path, appalled. “You refused, didn't you?”

“Give me a break. Just because I'm from Southern California, it doesn't automatically follow that I've got the brain of a surfer. I told him I don't do much divorce work and that I sure as hell wouldn't do it for a business associate.”

Zoe shuddered and resumed walking quickly along the path. “It would put you in an absolutely terrible position. That situation involving Katherine Compton and Dexter Morrow was bad enough. Just imagine what it would be like if you took Nelson Radnor on as a client and discovered that his wife really is having an affair. He would hardly thank you for the news.”

“I explained that to him. He wasn't happy but I think he understood.”

They stopped again, this time in front of the door of the main entrance to the apartment building. Zoe let them inside with her key.

The door of the manager's office opened as if on cue. Robyn Duncan popped out. Some of her perkiness faded when she saw him, Ethan noticed. Determinedly, she zeroed in on Zoe.

Ethan did not pause. He headed straight for the stairs.
Keep your head down here, Truax, you don't have a dog in this fight.

“I've been waiting for you, Zoe,” Robyn said brightly. “There's a problem with the lock on your door.”

Ethan went cold. He stopped and turned.

“There's no problem with my lock.” Zoe did not stop. She went briskly toward the stairs. “It works fine.”

“No, it doesn't,” Robyn said. “I can't open it with the master key.”

“That's because I changed the lock.” Zoe started up the staircase to the second floor.

She went past Ethan, who stayed right where he was.

“It is clearly stated in the building rules that the manager shall have access to every apartment,” Robyn said. “It's a health and safety issue.”

“The previous manager didn't have a problem with me changing the lock.”

“The previous manager is no longer in charge.” Robyn cleared her throat. “Given his lack of attention to details, he probably didn't even know that you had changed your lock.”

True, Ethan thought. But he wisely kept his mouth shut.

“I rented this place from the former manager, and as far as I'm concerned the arrangements that I made with him stand.” Zoe paused halfway up the stairs and glared down at Robyn. “I would consider any attempt to alter my original verbal agreement a violation of my rights as a tenant. If you insist on pushing this matter, I will consult a lawyer.”