Eye of the Beholder (16 page)

“That won't stop people from speculating about us. As you have so frequently pointed out, this is a small town.”

“If it will make you feel more comfortable, I'll take you out the back way.”

She pursed her lips while she considered that. Then she shook her head. “That might make things even worse.”

“You're really sweating this out, aren't you?”

“It just occurred to me that the repercussions could be a bit awkward, that's all.” The bath sheet slipped precariously as she fumbled to hold it in place while she put on the robe. “For both of us.”

“I'm not going to worry about it,” he said. “Are you?”

“Heavens no.” Sheesh. Her voice was much too high. She fought to bring it down to a more normal level as she struggled with the robe. “What's to worry about? We're consenting adults. I mean, it's not as if this sort of thing is any big deal these days.”

Damn. She'd missed the sleeve. It flapped uselessly.
She readjusted her grip on the bath sheet and tried again.

“Here. Let me help you.” Trask took the robe from her and held it ready.

Alexa turned her back to him and froze, both hands clutching the bath sheet to her breasts.

“You're going to have to let go of that bath sheet if you want to put on the robe,” he said.

“I know that.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, released her death grip on the bath sheet, and plunged both arms into the sleeves of the robe.

To her everlasting relief, she made it on the first attempt. She seized the dangling ends of the sash and tied them swiftly.

Be cool, wild woman. You can do this.

She opened her eyes and saw that Trask was watching her with grave amusement.

“I may be able to find a comb for your hair,” he said.

Her hair.
She raised a hand to the damp tangle. She could feel bits and pieces sticking out at crazy angles.

“I've got one in my purse.” She yanked the bag from his hand, jerked it open, and snatched out the comb. She tried to drag it through her snarled hair. “Ouch.”

Trask studied the results. “Want me to do that?”

“No, no, I'm fine. Thank you.” She gave up the attempt to put her hair into some semblance of order and glanced at her watch instead. It appeared to have survived the soaking in the fountain. “It's getting late. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

The odd edge in his voice brought her head up sharply. His gaze, dark and brooding, trapped hers.

“Trask, I—” She broke off, floundering.

“Wondering if you've just made a serious mistake?” he asked much too evenly.

Anger shot through her, mercifully vaporizing some of the awkwardness and the uncertainty.

“I thought maybe you were asking yourself the same question,” she said.

“I'll guess we'll both have to wait and find out, won't we?”

Alexa came awake so suddenly and with such a surge of adrenaline that for an instant she was certain there was an intruder in her bedroom.

Panic froze her. She lay motionless, listening with preternatural intensity for the slightest scrape of a foot or the sound of an indrawn breath.
Pretend you're still asleep.

The phone rang again.

A shudder of relief went through her. Not an intruder, after all.

“Okay, I can deal with this.”

She glanced at the glowing numbers on the clock as she reached for the bedside phone. Two-fifteen in the morning. No one called with glad tidings at this hour.

She thought of Vivien and Lloyd in Maui. If something had happened to one or both of them…

Obscene phone calls also came in the middle of the night, she thought, trying for a note of optimism. At that moment there was nothing she wanted
to hear more than a heavy breather on the other end of the line. Anything would be better than bad news from Maui.

She tightened her grip on the phone, raised it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Trask has aroused the vortices of dark energy. Stay away from him.”

The voice was low and muffled, as though the caller was holding a wad of fabric over the mouthpiece.

“Who is this?” Alexa sat up against the pillows. “If this is some kind of weird joke, I can tell you right now, it's not appreciated.”

“The vortices will not grow calm again until he is gone. There is great danger.”

“Who are you?” She listened closely, straining to detect a familiar note in the oddly flat voice. She thought she heard a car's engine start up. Other voices in the background. Laughter. Teenagers?

“You have been warned. Stay away from Trask or you will be caught up in the dark storm.”

“Listen, you little creep, there are laws against—”

There was a click. The line went dead.

Alexa slowly replaced the receiver. She switched on the light and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Opening the drawer of the bedside table, she pulled out the phone book. She flipped swiftly through the pages of helpful information on voice messaging services, long distance calling instructions, area codes, and time zones.

She found the instructions she wanted and followed directions for returning the last call.

The phone rang on the other end. She waited tensely
for someone to respond. She had read somewhere that most victims of obscene phone calls knew the caller.

On the other hand, threats about dark vortices didn't sound exactly obscene.

“Yeah?”

The voice was young. The accent was pure teenager.

“Who is this?” Alexa asked.

“Duh. Me Tarzan. You Jane?”

Muffled giggles sounded. A car's engine revved.

Another voice spoke in the background. “
Damnit, you kids stop fooling around with that phone or, so help me, I'll have the phone company take it out.”

A seriously annoyed adult, Alexa realized.

“If you're callin' someone to come down and buy booze for you, you can forget it.”

There was more teenage laughter.

“Let me have that phone.”
A new voice came on the line, gruff and aggressive.
“Who the hell is this?”

“I'm sorry to disturb you,” Alexa said in her plummiest antique gallery tones. “Someone called me from this number a moment ago and hung up. I was trying to find out who it was.”

“
Probably one of the punks hangin' around out front here
.” The irritation leaked out of the voice. “
There was a dance after the game tonight. Some of the kids are still out cruising. You know how it is. They all oughta be home in bed, but parents these days just don't seem to care where their kids are.”

“Excuse me, out in front of where?”

“You got the pay phone outside Avalon Quick Stop. I'm the night manager.”

“I see.
Thanks for explaining things. You know how it is with that kind of call.”

“Sure.”
The manager was not unsympathetic.
“But I wouldn't worry too much about this one. I know most of these kids. If you get any more calls, let me know. I'll put a stop to 'em.”

“Thank you.”

Alexa hung up the phone. She turned out the light and slipped back under the covers.

She did not sleep for a long time. Instead she stared up at the ceiling and thought about the voice of the person who had called earlier.

It had not sounded like a youthful voice. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely that any kid who was into cruising and hanging out with his friends at the Avalon Quick Stop would have any interest in Trask, dark vortices, or what, for a teenager, was truly ancient history.

She was all too well aware that sex with Trask had its risks. She certainly did not need a late-night phone call to warn her.

15
 

“How did the reception go?” Nathan asked. “I tried to get hold of you yesterday to get a firsthand report, but you weren't answering your phone.”

“I got your messages. Everything went off on schedule.” Phone in hand, Trask walked to the French doors. “You know Glenda. She never leaves anything to chance.”

“Right. So, out of curiosity, what did you think of the art collection?”

“Interesting.” Trask opened the doors and stepped out onto the balcony. “At least there aren't any pink flamingoes out on the front lawn.”

The late morning sun was high overhead. The sculpted buttes and towering rock spires were silhouetted against an impossibly blue sky.

“You'll like Deco well enough when the publicity hits.” Nathan paused. “Still planning to stay down there in Arizona for a while?”

Trask looked down at the sparkling pool. Memories of last night drifted through his mind. “Yeah.”

Nathan groaned. “I don't suppose it would do
me any good to try to talk you into coming back to the home office?”

“No. But that reminds me, I do need something from your end.”

“What?”

“Coffee. Ask Bernie to ship down a couple of pounds of my usual. Tell him to overnight it.”

Nathan grunted. “What, exactly, are you doing down there, JL?”

“You really want to know what I'm doing on my spring vacation? Well, let's see. Last night I went out on a date.”

There was a stunned pause on the other end of the line. “You did
what?”

“You don't have to make it sound as if I've taken up bungee jumping or sword swallowing.”

“You haven't been out on a real date in months.” Nathan was clearly intrigued. “What's going on? Who is she?”

“Her name is Alexa Chambers. She owns a shop here in town. Sells those tacky museum replicas. You know, gargoyles and statues of winged lions and suits of armor.”

“Didn't know you were in the market for that kind of thing.”

“A man never knows when he might need a full suit of armor.”

Nathan laughed. He sounded vastly relieved. “How'd you meet this Alexa?”

“She showed up at the reception.”

“Well, all I can say is, I'd rather worry about you remembering to practice safe sex than wonder if you're still obsessing on the past.”

Trask said nothing.

There was a beat of silence.

“Damn.” All of the brotherly amusement evaporated from Nathan's voice. He sounded grimly resigned. “I knew it was too good to be true. What's the connection between Alexa Chambers and your obsession?”

“Alexa is Lloyd Kenyon's stepdaughter.”

“Shit.”

“Thanks for your good wishes, little brother.” Trask turned away from the stark landscape and walked back into the cool suite. “I'm going to hang up now. I've got an appointment in five minutes.”

“Wait,” Nathan said swiftly. “Listen to me, JL, I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like the sound of this Alexa at all.”

“Your opinion is duly noted.”

“Any way you look at it, dating Kenyon's stepdaughter is a really bad idea. People are going to wonder if you've got ulterior motives. Damn it,
I'm
going to wonder…”

A knock sounded. Trask glanced at the door. “I've got to go.”

“Don't hang up on me, JL. I've got to talk some sense into you. You're the CEO of Avalon Resorts, Inc. The company doesn't need this kind of trouble—”

Trask gently hit the disconnect button on the phone. He set the instrument on the desk and crossed the room to open the door.

Joanna Bell stood in the hall. There was a fine trembling around her mouth when she smiled. “Hello, Trask.”

He moved aside. “Come on in, Joanna.”

* * *

“I just dropped in to say good-bye.” Edward Vale stood
in the opening of the back door of Elegant Relic. He was his usual dapper self in a beige linen sport coat, pale cream shirt, and matching trousers. “I'm on my way back to Phoenix.”

Alexa eyed him grimly. “You've got a heck of a nerve showing up on my doorstep after pulling that stunt with
Dancing Satyr
.”

He winced. “I know, I know. I hoped that if I gave you a day to cool off you'd be a little more open-minded—”

“Open-minded? About a fake in my beautiful collection?”

“I had to make an executive decision.”

“You sneaked that statue into the west wing hoping I wouldn't notice it, didn't you?”

“Try to understand. I simply could not pretend it didn't exist. Trask demanded to see every item listed in the catalog of the collection.”

There's was no point beating up on Edward, Alexa thought. For better or worse, the damage had been done. And she
had
managed to hide the statue before any of the art crowd had seen it. Her future was still reasonably secure. She could afford to let bygones be bygones.

“Forget it.” She gave him a wry smile. “Other than
Dancing Satyr,
things went well. Thanks, Edward. I know you took a chance on me, and I appreciate it.”