by Vella Munn
“A few,” Mara told him and took a deep breath. She still felt unsure, unbalanced. And yet somehow Reed Steward’s voice took her beyond those emotions. “Did you forget something?”
“I mentioned I wanted to discuss a matter with you.”
“I remember.” Holding the cell phone against her ear, Mara wandered into the living room with its closed drapes and sank into her newly recaned recliner. Yes. Although it was a useless gesture since the locks hadn’t yet been replaced, her doors were locked. And as soon as she checked on Lobo and grabbed a change of clothes, she’d be leaving for Clint’s apartment. If she hadn’t been so focused on her meeting with the detective, she wouldn’t have had to come back tonight at all. She wouldn’t be talking to this man.
“I don’t think I want to wait until tomorrow,” Reed was saying. “This needs to be private. We aren’t going to have much privacy during class.”
“You’d like to discuss this now?”
“Not over the phone.”
“Oh.”
“I’d like to come back out to your place, if you don’t mind, Mara.”
Mara. He’d spoken her name, giving it a timbre she’d never heard before. “Where are you?”
“At my hotel. It’ll take me about a half hour to get out there.”
“Oh,” she repeated. Did she want someone, this someone, in her house? Did she want to put off going to Clint’s cluttered but safe place long enough to, maybe, understand more than she did about the impact Reed Steward had on her senses? Angry, Mara stopped the questions. She’d spent years watching her family’s raw brand of courage, learning that she wasn’t enough like them. But she could wait in her own home to discuss a simple business arrangement with someone, couldn’t she? Lobo would be there; she’d let Reed know Clint was expecting her. “It’ll make a long day for you.”
“I’m used to long days. Unless you’re busy…”
“I’m not, but…are you sure this is necessary?”
“I think it’s the only way.”
Mara hung up, knowing not nearly enough. Although they had discussed a quiet route Reed could take from the city, she still didn’t understand why he was coming, why he wouldn’t talk over the phone. She should have pressed him about that, demanded an explanation. But she was afraid of revealing how exposed and unsure she was feeling. She had to get on with the day-to-day business of life.
While she waited, Mara threw together a simple meal and ate in front of the TV. She’d planned her living room with subdued lighting because it usually relaxed her. Now she was sorry she didn’t have a bright overhead light. There were too many shadows in the room. Too many shadows everywhere. Mara felt clammy and picked up the unread newspaper to fan herself. No. She couldn’t do that, either. Her father and mother and brothers took cars around hairpin turns at over a hundred miles an hour and didn’t have to cool bodies heated by fear. She was putting the last of her dishes in the dishwasher when she heard the Jag.
Lobo announced the car’s arrival. Mara jumped at his growl, but with a picture of her family on the coffee table acting as her anchor, she got up and opened the door. She called Lobo to her and waited with her hand on the dog’s head for Reed to get out of the car. For a moment he was in shadow. Then her outside light claimed him and Mara saw a man capable of both taming and appreciating a bloodred car meant for speed.
“I was curious about security,” Reed remarked and nodded at the Doberman. The night wind swirled the words, tossing them in Mara’s direction. He stood with his hands hanging relaxed and yet not relaxed by his sides. He’d left enough distance between them for safety, and he was smiling, just a little. “I take it that dog isn’t waiting for me to scratch behind his ears.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.” In Reed’s smile and the end to Lobo’s growl, Mara found her answer. Yes. She would let him inside. She stepped aside, the gesture serving as her invitation. He smelled of soap. He’d come close enough for her to know that. His eyes had acknowledged her, but now he was looking at her living room and doors leading to other rooms. She wondered what her house told him about her.
“Lobo tolerates people when I tell him to,” she explained, hoping he understood what she was leaving unsaid, wishing this quiet warning wasn’t necessary. “But I’m the only one he shows affection for.”
“At least he does that.” Reed was struck by the contrast between the stark landscape around the mobile home and its interior. He didn’t know anything about interior decorating but doubted the place had been designed by a professional. There was a sense of belonging here, of warm, restful colors. An almost three-dimensional painting of the ocean claimed one wall, a picture of a smiling family in racing coveralls commanded another. The stack of magazines on the glass-topped coffee table ranged from Sports Illustrated to Sunset. A wicker couch was piled with throw pillows in muted tones of blue.
He didn’t have to be here. True, he’d made a promise to Jack, to his employers, to himself. But he could have waited until tomorrow. Either that or he could have made this pitch over the phone.
No he couldn’t. If he was going to sleep tonight, he had to know Mara Curtis was all right. It was the least he, a concerned citizen working with the police, could do. He indicated the animal leaning against his mistress’s legs. “If I made a sudden move, what would he do?”
Mara’s eyes went to Reed’s throat. “If I screamed, you wouldn’t do it again.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t pulling her punches. Her honesty both established the ground rules and relaxed Reed. He was glad she wasn’t as vulnerable here as he’d thought. When Mara sat, Reed settled himself nearby on the pillowed couch. He couldn’t remember ever sitting in something that comfortable. As he watched, she curled her feet up under her. She wrapped her long fingers around her linen-encased knees. The gesture was casual, habitual. But the way she followed his every move and the lines of wariness in her body indicated otherwise. She’d invited him here, but she didn’t trust him. There was nothing he could do about that, not if he was going to get his job done. “You live alone?” he asked.
“Is that why you’re here?” she asked, tight-lipped. “To check out my living arrangements?”
“No.” Reed turned his attention from her hands to her face, and in the movement nearly lost his concentration. Mara Curtis reminded him of an antelope he’d spotted while driving through Montana last fall. The antelope had been shy. Curious. Cautious. And breathtakingly graceful. Mara exhibited the same grace, the same easy acceptance of her body. And, like the antelope, she didn’t trust. Had she always been like that, or had Friday night changed her? If it had, he would give a great deal to wipe the slate clean for her. “I was simply making an observation. I find it hard to believe there are parts of San Diego still undeveloped.”
“I’m outside the city limits. The water system hasn’t been expanded out here to the point it can support development.”
“If it was me, I wouldn’t be in a hurry to see that happen. You’ll be surrounded by people, and property values will go through the roof.”
“Exactly.”
She wasn’t making things easy for him. He had to work to keep the conversation going. Reed asked how long she’d been in business, how long she’d lived out here. She didn’t say why she’d chosen her career..
When she sat silent and waiting, Reed tried something else. He again brought up that he was aware of her father’s racing career and then, although she still hadn’t relaxed, he took the conversation in the hard but necessary direction. “You know a lot of people who have more than a passing interest in automobiles.”
“It goes with the territory.”
“And you might have certain inside information.”
“What are you getting at, Mr. Steward?”
“Reed. What I’m getting at is rather complicated.”
“I guessed that.” Mara was smiling with her mouth. Despite the half gesture, her smile stripped his mind of the comparisons he’d made between her and a wild creatu
re. He wasn’t sure what had taken its place. “You don’t belong here, you know,” she said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a competent driver. Not Indy material, but there’s no need for you to be. Working on skids wasn’t what you wanted to do. You had to force yourself.”
“And you’d like to know what my motives are if I, as you say, know the fundamentals and would rather not push myself any more.”
“Exactly. Why are you here, Mr.—Reed?”
“To get to know you.”
Something hot flashed in Mara’s eyes. “That’s not what you said earlier. I think you’d better leave.”
“Leave? I’m sorry. I didn’t phrase that well, did I? This is not what you think. I’m here to explore the possibilities of a business arrangement quite different from what we have now.” Reed hated what he was doing; he wanted Mara to trust him. But he would harden himself to her vulnerability and do this job. For Jack. “A few minutes ago I made mention of your contacts within the automotive world.”
“Yes.”
“If I were to present you with adequate compensation, would you be able to satisfy my whim?”
“Your whim?”
“I’d like to own the first Lamborghini to come off the assembly line.”
She laughed, a soft and light note capable of making a man forget a great deal. “So would a lot of people. If you’re thinking of a Lamborghini as an assembly-line vehicle—”
“Poor choice of words,” Reed amended. He wanted to hear her laugh again. He wasn’t sure he dared. “Mara, I have a certain amount of money at my disposal. Unfortunately it takes more than money to make me happy.”
“At least you’re honest enough to admit that.”
“Honesty has nothing to do with it.”
“Would you like to explain?” This time there was nothing light or open in her voice.
“What’s to explain? I was hoping you might have certain inside information.”
“What kind of information?”
“Top dollar isn’t enough to get certain valuable automobiles. One has to have certain contacts.”
Mara shook her head, a resigned gesture. “Why don’t you just go out and steal that damn Lamborghini?”
“Because that’s not the way I operate.”
“That’s your decision. Why are you coming to me?”
“Because you’re an insider.”
“Not that kind of insider, Mr. Steward.” Mara stood. Her fingers had become fists, and although he tried to deny it, Reed felt the impact of her silent blow. He’d failed her; she’d wanted something positive from him and he’d failed her. Her toes curled into the carpet as if seeking something to grip. “I consider this conversation finished.”
“You aren’t interested in supplementing your income?”
Mara shook her head. “Make your pitch to someone else.”
“You wouldn’t be willing or able to give me a name?” he asked, damning himself for being vulnerable to her gestures, her voice.
“No. If there’s any part of that word you don’t understand…”
Reed was silent for the better part of a minute, watching her, weathering her anger. He now saw the strength that had allowed her to run from her attacker instead of being overwhelmed by fear. Someday he’d like to be able to tell her of his admiration. “Mara,” he said softly. “Please sit down.”
“I told you. This conversation is finished.”
Reed knew he was staring, but dropping his eyes from the graceful, angry woman was impossible. He wanted to touch her; he knew he shouldn’t. He wanted to ask her forgiveness for what he’d put her through. But he was sure that wasn’t wise. Most of all he wished he understood what he was feeling. “I shocked you,” he went on. “This wasn’t what you expected to hear.”
“Mr. Steward, I take pride in my business. I’ve worked hard at getting it off the ground. It’s just now operating in the black. If I didn’t have scruples, I would have considered this particular option long before this.”
“Option,” Reed repeated. “Is that how you see it?” It was then that the phone rang, a blurred sound coming from another room. Mara whipped her head around. “Are you going to answer it?” Reed asked when it rang for the second time.
“My recorder can— No. It might be my family.”
Reed watched, absorbing the meaning behind her slow steps as Mara left the room. The phone stopped ringing. He heard Mara’s voice but couldn’t make out anything she said. After a moment, he no longer tried. A person, a man, could lose himself in a room like this. He felt somehow nestled in and remembered coming home one night to find that a cat had found its way into his house and had buried itself in his unmade bed. The landlord claimed the cat the next day, but Reed hadn’t forgotten that look of utter feline contentment. Funny he should think about that now.
“Bad news?” Reed asked when at last Mara was back in the room. She’d closed the door behind her but was hanging on to the knob with whitened knuckles. Her pale flesh wiped away the memory of a purring cat. “Something about your family?”
“No. A wrong number. I wish…”
Was there something he should be saying? A certain combination of words that would release the strain from her body? Damn it, he didn’t know. “You were expecting something?”
“No. Mr. Steward, I’m going to be leaving soon. I want…”
This wasn’t about her needing to leave and wanting him out of the house so she could do that. It wasn’t late for the phone to be ringing; maybe her tension was nothing more than reaction to what he’d been saying. And maybe, like other times in his life, Reed simply had no idea what was going on inside another human being.
He didn’t want it to be like that. He wanted…he wanted to be the kind of man who remembered to bring flowers to a friend in the hospital.
“This won’t take long,” Reed said softly, for one of the few times in his life going with his gut instead of his head. “I’d like to explain.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I understand. But I want to tell you something,” he said. Her eyes and the tension in her graceful body combined with her strong refusal of his offer to guide his words. She’d been through so much; he wasn’t going to add to her worries. “And then you can decide whether I should leave.”
“I’d say I’ve already made my decision.”
“I wish you’d sit down.”
“Why?”
What was the word? Instinct. It grew within him, becoming powerful. He could trust her. “Because I need your help.”
“My help? I thought I’d made it clear. I’m not interested.”
“I heard you. Believe me, I got that particular message. Hopefully I’ll be able to explain eventually why I’ve been saying the things I have, deliberately misleading you.”
“You’ve been misleading me?”
Hating the confusion in her eyes and his inability to touch her and thus wipe away what he’d done to her, Reed could only keep trying to explain. “I happen to be in a business which brings me in contact with people who have ulterior motives. Part of my job consists of uncovering those motives and dealing with them. As a consequence of that business, a certain cynicism has rubbed off on me.”
Mara shrugged. “It happens.”
“Yes. It does.” Reed smiled, working at the gesture. He waited until he sensed a slight relaxation of her tension. If nothing else, he’d gotten her to listen to him. “I think we all go through a certain number of steps along the way from innocence to adulthood. We get stung a few times, and we learn from those lessons. We’re no longer naive.”
“No. We aren’t.”
“It can’t be helped. Besides, I don’t think any adult really wants to remain naive.” Reed expanded his smile. “Being conned isn’t much fun.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“Exactly. Mara, I don’t want to alarm you. I’m saying this because I hope it’ll help to explain certain things.” He paused, wishing
he knew if he was handling this right or if everything would blow up in his face. “This isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
Instantly Mara’s fingers were at her throat. He’d ignored her wound earlier today because it had been essential for him to focus on other things. That was impossible now. “What are you saying?” she asked.
“I’m saying we were both at the Harbor Island Police Department Friday night.” She didn’t back away. Taking that as his cue, Reed went on. “Me, because I had business there. You, because you’d been abducted.”
“Ab— You were there?”
“On business. Legitimate.”
“You saw me.”
“I saw a great deal, Mara. You were grateful to be alive.”
Reed knew more than she wanted him to. Almost more than she’d admitted to herself. “Oh” was all she could say.
“I’m bringing that up because I hope you’ll believe, despite what I just said, that what I’m doing has the approval of local law-enforcement agencies. As I said, I’m in a business that doesn’t encourage trust. I had to be sure of certain things about you before I played my hand, before I gave you certain information. Mara, I’m here tonight because I need you to teach me a number of specific driving skills.”
“Teach? This doesn’t make sense.”
“Hear me out. I think it will. Are you all right?”
“All right?”
“I know where you went after work today.”
Mara stared without blinking. This man had her off balance. Again. She wished he wasn’t here. She wished he’d never come. Most of all she wished she could think around him. “How did you—”
“I overheard your conversation with your secretary. And I saw the note about Detective Kline.”
“You went looking,” Mara challenged. “That was none of your business.”
“If it isn’t, I’ll apologize. Mara, I could ask the detective what the meeting was about, but I’d rather have you trust me enough to tell me. They haven’t caught him, have they?”
Reed’s questions were coming too fast for Mara to be able to deal with them. The only thing she understood was that the police knew what Reed Steward was doing. That helped. “No. It was dark. I didn’t see him.” Why was she telling him this? “But I won’t forget his voice.”
