Truth or Dare (8 page)

10

T
hey sat together at one of the outdoor cafes in Fountain Square. Arcadia ordered espresso. Zoe chose hot tea. It was midafternoon and the day had warmed up nicely. That morning it had been chilly, but Zoe had lathered on the sunscreen as usual. She had lived in Whispering Springs long enough to have developed a good deal of respect for the intensity of the desert light.

Zoe had always been intrigued and attracted by contrasts and intense colors, but she had never expected to find so many of both here in this starkly etched land. The Sonoran desert was a study in opposites and ever-changing hues. A landscape that at first glance looked as if it could not possibly sustain life had proved to be stunningly rich in both flora and fauna.

And the light was incredible. It dazzled the eye and created
seductive shadows. The glorious yellows, purples and golds of a morning sunrise gave way to the unrelenting glare of the sun at high noon and then dissolved into the softest shades of twilight. The transition from the heat of late afternoon to the cool, silken air of the evening never ceased to fascinate her photographer's eye.

She took a sip of her tea, put down the cup and looked at Arcadia. “You want to tell me what's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong.”

“Arcadia, this is me, Zoe, remember? I'm the one who busted out of Xanadu with you.” Xanadu was the private code word they shared for Candle Lake Manor. Somehow the name seemed to describe the bizarre reality of the place.

“It's okay, Zoe, really.”

Zoe put up a hand. “Stop right there. I'm your best friend, with the possible exception of Harry, and he's not here right now. I'm telling you that I know there's something wrong.”

Arcadia did a delicate grimace. “I was having a little trouble sleeping earlier this week. I felt sort of edgy and restless. But I'm all right now.”

What was it about November this year? Zoe wondered. It seemed like most of the gang were having problems this month. Bonnie and the boys and Ethan were dealing with the anniversary of Drew Truax's death, she was brooding about the future of her marriage and worrying about Ethan's mood swings and now her best friend was on edge for some reason.

Arcadia picked up her tiny espresso cup with both hands. Her long nails, tinted to match her short, platinum hair, glinted a little in the light. Only someone who had known her for a while
would have detected the signs of strain, Zoe thought. Arcadia was very good at concealing her emotions.

Zoe assumed that Arcadia was in her early forties, but she possessed the timeless elegance of a 1930s film star. What's more, she radiated the air of aloof, world-weary sophistication that went with the image. Today she was dressed in her signature icy pastels. Tall and willowy, she wore aqua silk trousers and a white silk tunic with languid, Greta Garbo–style grace.

Zoe had a napkin on her lap but Arcadia had not bothered with one. She drank her espresso and nibbled on a croissant with a breathtaking lack of concern for drips or crumbs. Food did not accidentally spill or splash onto Arcadia's expensive clothes.

“Do you want to tell me what's keeping you awake?” Zoe said. “I know it isn't because you're having great sex. Harry is still out of town.”

“I'm starting to think that may be the problem,” Arcadia said very seriously.

“Lack of hot sex?”

“No, Harry being out of town.”

Zoe tore off a bit of croissant and slathered some butter on it. “I'm not following you.”

“I think I'm getting used to having him around.”

“So? He seems to like being around you. I don't see a problem here.”

Arcadia's fingers tightened around the small cup. “The problem is that I may be developing a certain . . . dependency on him.”

Zoe swallowed the bite of croissant. “You want to run that by me again?”

“I started having trouble sleeping shortly after he left on this latest job.” Arcadia's silvery-blue eyes narrowed. “It was as if I'd become afraid of the dark. Three nights ago it was really bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I had been a little jumpy all day. It took me a long time to get to sleep. And then I woke up very suddenly. For a few seconds I was disoriented. I thought I was back in Xanadu.”

“Your reaction was perfectly understandable, if you ask me,” Zoe said briskly. “Whenever I dream of that place I wake up in a cold sweat.”

Arcadia shook her head. “That's just it, I don't think that I was dreaming about it. I just woke up abruptly and felt afraid. As if someone had gotten through the locks on my front door.”

Zoe went still. “But there was no sign of a break-in, right?”

“Of course not. I'd have yelled for Ethan if there was even a hint that someone had tripped Harry's new security system. But I felt very strange until . . .”

“Until what?”

Arcadia's mouth curved wryly. “Until Harry called.”

Zoe relaxed a little. “And then you felt a whole lot better?”

“Yes.”

“You're thinking that this weird feeling you get at night when Harry isn't there means that you've allowed him to get too close, aren't you?”

“All I know is that I wasn't having these feelings before I met him last month.” Arcadia hesitated. “I think Harry sensed that I was nervous. He's started calling me twice a day instead of just at night.”

Zoe smiled. “And suddenly you're sleeping better?”

“Much better.”

“So you're worried that you might be getting addicted to Harry Stagg.”

“It's been a very long time since I've trusted a man,” Arcadia said. “I find the thought a little scary.”

“For obvious reasons.” Zoe patted her hand lightly. “But Harry Stagg is no Grant Loring.”

“I know.”

Arcadia relaxed visibly and drank the rest of her espresso.

11

E
than took a bite of olive-and-jalapeño-dotted pizza and let his attentive audience wait while he chewed and swallowed. He caught Zoe's eye. It had been her idea to invite what she called “the gang” out for dinner that night.

He was not sure exactly when or how the gang had come into being, but at some point during the past few weeks, he and the others had formed a closely knit company. All but one of them was there.

In addition to Zoe and himself, the group included Bonnie and his nephews, Jeff and Theo. Arcadia and Singleton Cobb were also part of the odd mix. Harry Stagg, the most unexpected member of the gang, was the only one not present. He was still in LA.

Ethan finished the slice of pizza and surveyed his waiting audience.

“It's a classic locked-room mystery,” he said.

“What's a classic locked-room mystery, Uncle Ethan?” Theo demanded, kicking the rung of his chair with his sneaker-shod feet.

Jeff gave a condescending snort. He was eight, two years older than Theo, and he never hesitated to take on the superior air of the all-knowing older brother.

“It means the room where they found Kirwan's body was locked, dummy,” Jeff said.

“Don't call me a dummy, smart-ass,” Theo shot back.

Bonnie glowered at both of them. “I do not want to hear any more language like that from either of you. Is that understood?”

“Dummy's not a bad word,” Jeff said. “It just means that he's not very bright.”

“Smart-ass just means an intelligent donkey,” Theo proclaimed, defending himself with an expression of angelic innocence. “There's nothing wrong with donkey.”

“Do I look like a copy of the
OED
to you?” Bonnie raised her brows. “I'm not discussing definitions of bad words here. I'm giving an order.”

“What's an OED?” Jeff asked around a mouthful of pizza.

“The
Oxford English Dictionary,
” Singleton replied.

“A dictionary, huh?” Jeff was clearly intrigued. “Does it have the bad words in it? Our dictionary at school doesn't have any of those.”

Ethan looked at him. “You checked?”

“Sure.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“Inquiring minds,” Arcadia murmured.

“The
OED
is pretty much the final authority on the English language,” Singleton said, “so it contains all the words, good and bad. As a matter of fact, I've got a full set in my shop if you want to—” He broke off when Bonnie gave him a warning scowl. “Uh, it's really big and heavy. Lots of volumes. Not what you'd call a light read. I don't think either of you would enjoy it.”

Jeff and Theo brightened instantly. Ethan knew they were about to assure Singleton that they were fully capable of some heavy reading if the goal was worthwhile, but Bonnie spoke up swiftly.

“You were telling us about the Kirwan murder case, Ethan,” she said. “What have you found out so far?”

“Not much,” he admitted. “But it's sort of intriguing, even though the only book I ever read of Kirwan's was
The Long, Cold Summer.
”

“What was it about?” Theo asked.

Jeff heaved a theatrical sigh. “It was probably about a long, cold summer, dummy.”

Bonnie frowned. “Jeff, I mean it. If you don't behave, we're going to leave.”

Jeff opened his mouth to argue. Ethan caught his eye, saying nothing. Jeff subsided without a word and went back to his pizza.

Bonnie looked at Ethan. He saw the anxiety in her expression and understood her concerns. Jeff had been acting out for the past couple of weeks and it was getting worse. Unlike Theo, who seemed to have gotten past the anniversary of his father's death without too much angst this year, Jeff was not faring well.

Neither am I, kid,
Ethan thought. But sometimes you had to suck it up and act normal.

“How are you going to approach the research?” Zoe asked.

“In my customary brilliant fashion,” Ethan said. “Gather all the facts and then hope like heck that inspiration strikes.”

Singleton finished his slice of pizza. “Let me get this straight. The goal here is to prove that Maria Torres was innocent, right?”

“That's certainly the result that Paloma Santana would like to get,” Bonnie said. “There's going to be a lot of media present on the day the Kirwan House is opened to the public. The mayor would love nothing more than to be able to announce that the mystery of the missing manuscript has been solved. She thinks that locating it would go a long way toward focusing the blame for Kirwan's death on someone other than her grandmother.”

“Because it would prove that Maria Torres didn't steal it?” Arcadia asked.

“Right.” Ethan looked down the table at Singleton. “You're the expert on locating rare books. Got time for some consulting work on this thing?”

“Sure.” Singleton nodded. “Sounds interesting. But what happens if you don't come up with the answers Paloma Santana wants? What if you actually find convincing proof that Maria did kill Kirwan and steal the manuscript?”

Ethan shrugged. “If Paloma Santana insists on the answers, I'll give them to her privately and she can decide what to do with them. There's no reason to make them public. Everyone who was directly involved in the case is now dead, including Maria Torres. Proving that she actually did murder Kirwan wouldn't accomplish anything useful at this late date.”

“But, Uncle Ethan,” Jeff said, “don't you want the truth to
come out on TV and in the newspaper? Mom said it would be really good publicity for your business.”

“Yeah,” Theo added. “Besides, you and Mom always say that you're supposed to tell the truth.”

“I will tell the truth to Paloma Santana because she's the client. But there's no rule that says the truth has to be broadcast on the six-o'clock news.”

“In fact,” Arcadia said to the boys with the grave air of a wise aunt imparting important knowledge, “the newspapers and the media are the
last
places you should expect to find the truth.”

Singleton chuckled. “Your cynical side is showing, Arcadia.”

“It's one of my best features,” she assured him.

“What does ‘cynical' mean?” Theo asked.

Singleton launched into a detailed but carefully worded explanation. Bonnie offered some refinements and warnings about the risks of becoming too cynical. Arcadia defended the wisdom of cynicism. There were more questions from Jeff and Theo.

In the midst of the lively conversation bubbling around the table, Zoe smiled at Ethan. The silent, intimate acknowledgment of the bond between them did something to him deep inside. He heard the now-familiar click and felt the rush of awareness.

He saw the understanding in her eyes. She alone of all the people in his life knew why he spent his spare hours investigating the oldest and coldest of cold cases. The others assumed that it was merely a hobby, but Zoe knew that it was far more than that. She had realized right from the start that it was something he needed to do.

He had never put the compulsion into words for himself, but Zoe had.
When you do get the answers, you create a little justice. You balance some invisible scales somewhere
.

The connection between them was growing stronger by the day. It sent a bone-deep chill of wonder through him. It also worried him like hell. Although they had been together for only a few weeks and married for even less time, she had somehow gotten closer than anyone else ever had. Maybe too close. She saw parts of his soul that had escaped detection by three ex-wives and the members of his own family. If she looked too deeply with those mysterious eyes of hers, she might see the parts that did not look good in the light of day.

The sense of impending doom closed in around him again. He had never before been involved this deeply. This was not a match made in heaven, he reminded himself. There were issues. But with each passing day he was more and more certain that if Zoe walked away from him, he would fall straight into hell.

 

After dinner Ethan and Singleton took Jeff and Theo and adjourned to the video arcade on the other side of Fountain Square. Zoe sat on a green wrought-iron bench together with Arcadia and Bonnie. The evening had turned cool, as evenings often did in the desert, but the area around the benches was warmed with large outdoor patio heaters that glowed a bright orange-red.

A profusion of small white lights outlined every tree and storefront. There were a number of signs heralding the
upcoming Fall Festival Night. The annual event was the official Fountain Square kickoff to the holiday shopping season.

Arcadia watched the men and boys disappear into the video arcade. “Has Singleton asked you out yet, Bonnie?”

Bonnie did not move or take her attention away from the entrance to the arcade. “No.”

“Hmm,” Arcadia said. “Wonder why not?”

“What makes you think he might be interested in anything more than a causal friendship?” Bonnie asked quietly.

Zoe turned her head at that. “Are you kidding? Have you even noticed the way he looks at you?”

“He's biding his time,” Arcadia said. “Doesn't want you to feel rushed. Making sure he'll be welcome in your life.”

Zoe nodded. “I get the feeling he's the slow, cautious type.”

Bonnie made a sputtering sound that was somewhere between exasperation and laughter. “What is this? Have you two suddenly decided to become matchmakers just because you're both getting some good sex yourselves?”

“Probably,” Zoe said.

Arcadia gave a small, eloquent shrug. “Just making an observation.”

Bonnie clasped her hands together in her lap. “Singleton is so very different from Drew.”

There was a short silence.

“Maybe that's a good thing,” Zoe offered at last. “You won't be tempted to make comparisons. You can let him be himself.”

“Is that how it is with you and Ethan?” Bonnie asked.

“Yes.” Zoe studied the play of the fountain waters. “Ethan is
nothing like Preston. My relationship with my first husband was—” She broke off, searching for the right word. “Uncomplicated.”

“And Ethan
is
complicated,” Bonnie said. It was a statement of fact.

“Very.” Zoe crossed her legs and swung one foot lightly, thinking about her marriage. “I don't mind complicated. I'm a little complicated myself. But I'm starting to wonder if Ethan really wants me to know that side of him. He isn't big on communicating.”

Arcadia was amused. “What man is?”

“Give Ethan some time,” Bonnie urged. “He isn't accustomed to having anyone take an interest in his complicated side. Lord knows, none of his ex-wives wanted to experience that part of him. All they wanted was what they saw on the surface.”

Arcadia nodded. “A man who looks like he can take care of himself and them, too.”

“Yes,” Bonnie said. “But none of them wanted to take care of him, at least none of them wanted to do it badly enough to work at it.”

“Something tells me that's the way Ethan liked it,” Zoe muttered.

Bonnie thought about that. “Maybe you're right. Less of an emotional risk that way, I guess. Whatever his communication issues were in his first three marriages, I can tell you that they got a whole lot worse after Drew was kidnapped and killed.”

“He's carrying around a lot of guilt,” Zoe said. “He was the
older brother. A part of him will always feel that he failed to do what he was supposed to do—protect Drew.”

She knew exactly how Ethan felt, she thought. She would never be entirely free of a similar sense of failure. She and Preston had promised to take care of each other. But in the end she had been unable to save him.

“Ethan is definitely going to be a lot of hard work for any woman who takes him on.” Bonnie shook her head, smiling wryly. “I love him like a brother and I will always be eternally grateful to him for the way he took care of Jeff and Theo and me after Drew was gone. But I'll tell you the truth, I could never imagine myself married to him. Not in a million years.”