by Janet Dailey
Mitzi wisely didn't introduce Slade's name into the conversation again. Despite that, neither the incident in the study nor the man himself was far from Lisa's thoughts.
By ten o'clock a mental and physical exhaustion began to set in. Lisa was grateful when Mitzi suggested that it was time they went to bed. Upstairs in her room, Lisa ignored the bed in favor of the bathroom where the shower spray massaged the aching muscles of her shoulders and neck. She tumbled into bed and turned off the light. In the darkness, she wondered if thoughts of Slade and how she would unmask him, would keep her awake. That was the last thing Lisa remembered thinking.
THE STUDY DOOR WAS OPEN when Lisa came down the spiral staircase a little after seven the next morning. The typewriter was silent.
"Is that you, Lisa?" her aunt called and appeared in the doorway an instant later. "Gracious, but you are up early this morning. And all dressed, too."
"I decided that I didn't want to sleep my vacation away," Lisa lied, preferring to be snugly asleep in her canopied bed.
"Come in and join me for coffee. Mildred just brought me a fresh pot," Mitzi invited.
"I wouldn't want to disturb you. I know you're working." Her finger clutched her large purse, its sides bulging with the red wig she had crammed inside.
"Nonsense. You aren't disturbing me," her aunt insisted. "I was just taking a break before I began the next scene."
"I'd love to have coffee with you, but I'm afraid I can't." Lisa glanced at her watch. The minutes were ticking away. She needed the early start to work so she could make the transformation into Ann Eldridge before reaching Slade's office.
"Are you going somewhere at this hour?" Mitzi frowned in astonishment.
Poor Peggy and Susan, Lisa thought, they might never know how useful they had been to her since she arrived in Charleston.
"I'm meeting Sue and Peg for breakfast." She hated deceiving her aunt this way, but it was for her own good. "Since we didn't get any sight-seeing done yesterday, we thought we'd get an early start at it today."
"Oh, I see." But something in Mitzi's tone indicated that she thought they had taken leave of their senses. "What are you planning to see today? There is a tour boat that takes you to Fort Sumter where the first battle of the Civil War took place. It's really quite fascinating to wander about the old battlements and listen to the park ranger explain about the long Union siege of the fort. The South never lost it in battle. They ultimately abandoned it toward the close of the war, but it was never taken from them."
"Actually I'm not sure where we're going today," Lisa explained. "The girls know their way around better than I do, so they are making all the plans."
"Be sure to have them take you to Fort Sumter."
"I'll tell them," she promised with fingers mentally crossed. "I'd really better be going, Mitzi. I'll see you tonight."
"Have fun."
"I will," she returned and nearly dashed out the door.
Her heels clicked loudly on the paved sidewalk as she hurried along the street. At least this time she wouldn't have to stop to ask directions to Slade's office. Lisa glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven-thirty. She quickened her pace.
Using the ladies' room of a restaurant to change, she donned the flame-colored wig, outlined her lips with a coral gloss and replaced her birthstone with the wedding band. She smiled secretly to herself as she emerged, wondering if anyone had noticed the blonde going in and the redhead coming out.
When Slade arrived at the office, she was hard at work, busily transcribing the legal briefs from the dictaphone. Nodding an indifferent "good morning," he picked up the few phone messages from her desk and went directly into his own office. Lisa hoped that he hibernated there. Now that he had met Lisa Talmadge, she didn't want him noticing similarities to Ann Eldridge.
At each sound coming from the outer reception area, Lisa glanced expectantly toward the door. Drew was supposed to return her aunt's file this morning, and she desperately needed to get her hands on it. She couldn't hope to fool Slade indefinitely. The sooner she could get her hands on the information she needed the better.
Half the morning was gone before Drew appeared. Lisa was on the telephone when he walked in. She smiled a greeting, her eyes lighting up when she saw the folder in his hand.
It added a special glow to her smile that she was unaware of and caused Drew's quick intake of breath. While she transferred the phone call to Slade, Drew sat on the edge of her desk, gazing at her silently.
"It's a crime for someone so beautiful to be married," he declared when the transfer had been made.
"My husband doesn't think so," she smiled faintly, concealing her impatience to take the folder from his hand.
"Oh, yes," Drew nodded ruefully, then frowned. "What's his name again?" Lisa drew a complete blank. She couldn't remember the name she had given her fictitious husband. "Burt, that's it." Fortunately he supplied it. "Lucky Butt."
"Yes." But Lisa wanted to get off that subject before she buried herself in lies. "I see you brought the folder back safely."
"Yup, it's all here intact," he assured her, depositing it on the desk top. Lisa's fingers inched to open it and peruse the contents. It was an almost uncontrollable urge that she checked with a great deal of effort. "What about lunch today?"
"I'll have to take a raincheck," she refused, knowing exactly how she intended to spend her lunch hour —glued to the folder.
"Come on, have a heart," Drew coaxed. "Make a poor bachelor happy for an hour."
"Sorry." Her mind wasn't going to be changed by any amount of flattery. "I'm behind with a lot of correspondence. I'm going to do what you did yesterday — have Ellen bring me back a sandwich to eat here."
"Okay," he capitulated unexpectedly. "If that's what you want, I'll buy the sandwich and we'll have a little picnic right here in the office."
"No," Lisa protested instantly, then tried to temper the sharpness of her refusal. "If you join me, then we'll talk and I won't get anything done, which would defeat my purpose for not going out to lunch. Let's just make it another day."
"I suppose I'll have to console myself with the knowledge that you didn't turn me down flat." Drew gave an exaggerated sigh.
"Exactly," she laughed briefly. "Now run off so I can get some work done." Her hands inched toward the folder as he straightened from her desk.
"You're a worse slave driver than Slade," he joked. "But a beautiful one."
With a wink and a wave of his hand, he left, and Lisa's hands greedily snatched up the folder, flipping it open to briefly scan the contents. The very first document caught her attention. It seemed to be a power of attorney.
Before she had a chance to examine it, there was the alerting sound of a doorknob being turned. She barely had time to close the folder when Slade walked in, aloof curiosity in his dark eyes at her guilty start.
"Is something wrong, Mrs. Eldridge?" His hard, handsome mouth softened slightly as if bemused by her reaction.
"No, I — I just didn't hear you, that's all." Her fingers tightened nervously on the stiff cover of the folder.
His dark gaze slid to the folder. "What do you have there?"
"Oh, er, this?" Damn, Lisa thought, she had to stop stammering like an errant child. "It's the Talmadge file. Drew just returned it, and I was just going to put it back in the cabinet."
"There's no need." He held out his hand. "I'll take it. There's a couple things in there I want to look over."
No, she cried inwardly, her fingers tightening convulsively on the folder. Aloud she murmured a hopeful, "Now?"
"Of course now." There was a humorless, silent laugh in his voice.
It had been a ridiculous question. Grudgingly Lisa handed it to him, unable to argue her right to keep it. "Was there anything else?" she asked, reverting to a taut, professional tone.
"No, nothing else." His gaze narrowed briefly on her before he shifted his attention to the folder in hand reentered his office.
Twice the file had
been in her grasp and twice it had been taken from her
Frustration was beginning to set in.
Her assertion to Drew that she was going to have lunch at her desk trapped Lisa into spending the noon hour in her office. Although Slade had taken her aunt's file, she was determined all this time wasn't going to be wasted. Perhaps she could find some incriminating evidence in the files of the decorators, carpenters, and landscape company Slade used.
The trouble was that she didn't know their names and she wasn't any nearer to understanding the filing system. Her own code of ethics wouldn't permit her to examine a file unless something in its title had reference to the type of firm she was seeking. This seemed to eliminate the bulk of the folders.
Before the lunch hour was over, Lisa knew how a spy felt. Every creaking floorboard in the old building made her jump. Voices filtering in from the street had her looking around in alarm. Snooping was an unpleasant occupation, especially when one came up with zero results.
The sound of Slade's voice in the outer reception area sent her scurrying to her desk. She was bent over the paper in her typewriter when he walked into her office. Lisa pretended an absorption in her work rather than look up.
"Have there been any calls for me?" He stopped at her desk.
"No, sir." She made an unnecessary erasure of a word she had typed much earlier and blew the erasure dust from the paper.
"I'm expecting Clyde Sanders to stop by. When he arrives, send him into my office," Slade instructed.
"Yes, sir." Lisa nodded her compliance and sighed with relief when he walked into his private office and closed the door.
Chapter Five
BY THE END of the day, Lisa was engulfed in frustration. She had kept waiting and waiting for Slade to return her aunt's folder so that it could be filed … after, of course, she had looked through it. But he hadn't.
Shortly after three that afternoon, Slade had left the office on an errand. Desperate, Lisa had sneaked into his office to see if he had left the folder behind. She couldn't find it among the papers on his desk. One drawer of his desk had been locked and he had taken his briefcase with him. Lisa had presumed it was in one of the two places.
This deception was threatening to last much longer than she had ever intended. The longer it continued, the greater became the risk of being unmasked. Lisa knew she had to take advantage of every opportunity. If an opportunity didn't present itself, she would have to try to arrange one.
A few minutes after five, Lisa was still at the typewriter. Her plan was to keep working until after Slade had left and hopefully find the folder in the briefcase he had brought back with him. Slade was in his office with a client. No matter how tired she was or how much her body ached, Lisa was determined to outwait him.
Her patience was rewarded five minutes later when she heard the connecting door open to Slade's private office and the voices of the two men talking as they came out. Her fingers continued tapping at the typewriter keys.
Lisa faked a concentration in her task and hoped Slade would leave with the man. But he walked with him only as far as the door to the reception area and bid him goodbye. When the client was gone, Slade turned. Lisa felt his gaze rest on her. Her skin prickled with her awareness of it, sensitive nerve ends reacting. But she tried to give no sign that she knew he was looking at her.
"It's after five, Mrs. Eldridge," he spoke, not allowing Lisa to ignore him any longer. "You should have left twenty minutes ago."
Her fingers paused on the keys as she gave him a preoccupied glance. "I'll be leaving shortly," she assured him with vague indifference.
"You do realize your children will be home from school by now."
His statement paralyzed Lisa. He said it as if she had children. Among all the lies she'd told, had she claimed to have children? She searched her memory. Unless it had failed her, Lisa was positive that she hadn't.
"I don't have any children, Mr. Blackwell," she corrected that impression. "My husband and I have decided to wait a few years before beginning a family."
"Regardless, your husband will be home expecting his dinner."
Lisa seethed at that typically male statement, but as Ann Eldridge, she didn't dare voice her feminist views on the subject of equality of sexes, nor her opinion that a husband could start dinner if his wife worked late. So she had to find another plausible reason why it wasn't essential for her to be home immediately.
"Undoubtedly my husband is working late, too," she said.
"Oh? What does he do?" Slade asked.
"He's in construction. When the weather is as beautiful as it is today, he gets in a lot of overtime. I'll be home before he is, even if I stay until six." Lisa shrugged her unconcern.
"There isn't any need for you to stay late."
"I want to finish this. You can go ahead and leave." The sooner, the better, Lisa added to herself. "As soon as I'm through here, I'll be going home, too, but I know how important it is —"
"Nothing is so important that it can't wait until tomorrow," Slade interrupted. "Your attitude is very commendable, Mrs. Eldridge, but unnecessary."
"But I don't mind staying" Lisa protested.
A dark eyebrow lifted at her persistence. "I said it wasn't necessary. Cover your typewriter and clear your desk. This is an order, Mrs. Eldridge," he stated.
"Very well." Lisa should have been grateful for his thoughtful consideration, but he had thwarted her attempt to stay late. She was frustrated once again.
Slade stood by her desk for several more seconds. Lisa shook out the plastic cover for the typewriter and draped it over the machine. The action apparently satisfied him that she intended to comply with his order and he returned to his private office.
Lisa took her time clearing the desk and putting things away. She used every excuse to linger, sharpening pencils and arranging the articles on her desk in a precise order. There was still a chance Slade might leave before she did. Ten minutes later, she was straightening a stack of papers in her file tray as Slade walked out of his office.
His gaze narrowed on her sharply, his features lean and hard. "Are you still here, Mrs. Eldridge? I thought I told you to go home."
"I was just straightening my desk." She took the blank stationery paper from beside the typewriter and returned it to its proper desk drawer. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes."
His mouth thinned as he turned and walked to the file cabinet. The hope that he might be on his way home, died as he removed two folders and returned to his office. There was nothing Lisa could do but leave and hope for better luck the next day.
Walking the blocks to her aunt's house, Lisa tried to formulate some plan of action, but she was too tired and vaguely dispirited to think. The wig in her purse seemed to weigh a ton. She had barely entered the house, the door not yet closed, when Mitzi's questioning voice sought her out.
"Lisa, is that you?" She came sweeping out of the living room into the foyer. "Gracious, I was about to send out a search party for you."
"I'm sorry I'm late," Lisa apologized, a faint, tired sigh in her voice. "I didn't mean for you to worry."
"You look exhausted. Sightseeing all day must have worn you out." A sympathetic smile curved her aunt's mouth. "Did you try to see everything in one day?"
"Something like that," she hedged and arched her back to ease her cramped and sore muscles. "Right now the only thing I want to see is a tubful of hot water."
"A nice hot bath works wonders. You go soak for a while," Mitzi instructed. "Later you can come downstairs and join me in a relaxing drink before dinner."
"I'll do that," Lisa agreed and climbed the spiral staircase to her room.
While the bathtub was filling with water, Lisa undressed. Halfway to the bathroom she remembered the wig was still crammed in her purse. She took it out and hid it in the rear of a dresser drawer. She followed the scent of the fragrant bubble bath to the tub, turned off the faucets and climbed in. Lisa had no idea how long she lay soaking in the bath, but the w
ater was cool when she climbed out to towel herself dry.
Lisa sighed dispiritedly as she slipped on the silk kimono-styled dressing robe that was chocolate brown and embroidered in pale ivory. The long bubble bath had eased the stiffness of her muscles, but it had done little to wash away the troubled light in her green eyes. Each day spent as Ann Eldridge was a risk.
Opening her closet door, she immediately turned away. She didn't feel like dressing even though she knew Mitzi was waiting downstairs for her to join her. The silk robe swished softly about her ankles as she walked barefoot to her bedroom door.
Maybe her aunt wouldn't stand on ceremony. A quiet evening spent lounging around was what Lisa dearly wanted and needed. She seriously doubted if Mitzi would object.
Her hand reached for the carved banister of the staircase. Something — a sound, a voice — stopped her, her foot poised on the edge of the first step. At the bottom of the stairs stood Slade Blackwell, dark, arresting and vital. The sight of him paralyzed Lisa, and her hand clutched the loose fold of her robe together at the waist.
Insolently, his gaze slowly traveled the length of her. She reddened as she realized her action had drawn the clinging fabric more tightly over her curves, possibly revealing that she wore nothing beneath it.
Her skin seemed to burn from the appraising caress of his eyes, mocking yet suggestive. She released the robe immediately, spreading her fingers to try to relieve the sudden, elemental tension that claimed her.
"What are you doing here?" She finally broke the silence, her voice ringing with a challenge born of embarrassment.
"I don't think it's any of your business since I'm here to see Mitzi," he replied smoothly.
"Why?"
"I told you, it's none of your business." Slade continued to study her feminine shape with an arrogant unconcern that had to have been bred into him. The almost physical touch of his gaze was having disturbing effect on her senses, but Lisa was determined not to reveal it. Being dressed — or barely dressed — as she was, was enough of a disadvantage.
