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by Kate Calloway


  Almost before we'd finished eating, women at other tables had started to dance. The lights were dimmed and the music changed from classical to soft rock. Reeva pushed herself away from the table and strode purposely toward an Asian woman she'd been eyeing during dinner. They made an interesting couple, I thought. Reeva's yellow flat top bobbing a foot above the slender, darker woman's silky crown.

  Karen watched her friend on the dance floor, then cleared her throat, slicked back her hair again and asked Sabrina to dance. Sabrina was clearly startled by the question. Then she smiled shyly, blew her bangs away from her forehead, and they joined the growing throng on the dance floor.

  Allison kicked me under the table, and I nearly choked on my wine.

  "Would you like to dance?" I managed, glaring at her.

  She seemed to consider it for a moment, smiled and pushed back her chair. "I thought you'd never ask."

  I was aware of others watching us, and not just the women at our table. It hadn't occurred to me, when I'd accepted the challenge of posing as Allison's new girlfriend, that I'd be the center of so much attention. I led her to the dance floor and held out my arms.

  "You kick me under the table again, and I'm going to kick you back," I murmured, holding her somewhat tentatively. It was a medium-slow song, and while some women were attempting to fast-dance, most were dancing cheek-to-cheek.

  "I thought you were going to sit there forever and I knew someone else would ask me to dance. I didn't mean to kick you so hard, however. Did I hurt you?" Rather than answer, I pulled her closer and turned her in a quick circle, liking the way she moved so easily. "For a cowgirl, you dance pretty well," she said into my ear. "Even if you do insist on leading."

  "For a presidential doctor with about three million women in love with her, you follow okay." Her laugh was husky, contagious. "For what it's worth," I continued, "I don't think either Reeva or Karen is too fond of you. I thought you said none of your exes held grudges."

  "Shhh. Let's just dance for now. You're supposed to act like you're enjoying this. Kiss my neck."

  "What?"

  "My neck. Or just nuzzle it. People are watching."

  I twirled her again, then leaned toward her ear, whispering, "I don't nuzzle on command."

  She giggled, and to my complete surprise, leaned closer and grazed my neck with her teeth. It wasn't so much her doing it that shocked me, but the way my damn body responded. Furious at myself, I decided to set her straight right then and there.

  "Do that again and I'm out of here. I mean it." My voice surprised me. It cracked like an adolescent boy's.

  "God, I'm sorry," she whispered. She sounded genuinely crushed.

  I glared at her. "Just don't do that again." The song ended and I started to walk back, but Allison grabbed my hand and I had no choice but to dance with her. To my relief, it was a fast song. Even so;. I had trouble getting into it.

  Allison was having the time of her life, to all appearances, and in fact she was such a good dancer, it was hard to stay mad for long. The truth was, I loved to dance, and they were playing a song I particularly liked.

  We were dancing fast, but our bodies were almost touching, and Allison was holding my hips with her hands, mirroring my moves. I tried valiantly to remember that this was role-playing and started to think I'd missed my calling. I certainly had people around us fooled. Even Karen, who was still dancing with Sabrina, flashed me the thumbs-up sign.

  When the song ended, Allison leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was the world's quickest kiss, but not very many people missed it. As for me, I was mortified at the way my stomach flipped over.

  "Let's get some air," I muttered, furious. Obviously, some rules needed to be set.

  "Good idea." She held onto my hand and led me through the crowd, stopping to chat with what seemed like half the people in the room. By the time we got outside, I was somewhat calmed down. It had taken us forever.

  "I think that went very well," she said. "You did all right, considering you were such an unwilling accomplice."

  "Allison, listen," I said. We were walking toward the lake, away from the other women getting fresh air. "I am very happily involved with a wonderful woman. I have no intention or desire to be unfaithful. I think it's important we keep this on a professional level. Even if I weren't involved, I don't mess around with clients." Which was a big lie. Erica Trinidad had been my first client, and we'd done plenty of messing around.

  She was so quiet I was afraid I'd hurt her feelings. Finally, half-way to the lake, she turned to face me, her eyes fierce in the moonlight. "I just want you to catch whoever's trying to kill me, Cass. The sooner you do, the sooner we can quit pretending, and then maybe I can actually start enjoying myself."

  "Look, I'm sorry. I just didn't want to give you the wrong idea. I mean, as long as you know where I'm coming from."

  "No, you look. You're cute, but you're not that cute. Some people think I could have almost any woman I wanted. What on earth makes you think I'm suddenly crushed that you, of all people, aren't interested?"

  "I never said I thought you were crushed. I just wanted to be upfront with you. I don't mind pretending. I just wanted to make sure you knew that's what I was doing."

  "Trust me, Cassidy James. That's all I'm doing too. If and when I ever decide to quit pretending and act on how I really feel, you'll know the difference."

  With that, she turned on her heel and headed back toward her cabin, and like a faithful watch-dog, I followed after her, my ears ringing with her words the whole way back.

  Chapter Seven

  I left Allison standing on her front porch staring moodily out at the lake. All I wanted was a long soak in the hot tub and a good night's sleep, but first I wanted to check my video cam to see if she'd had any visitors. I tossed my clothes onto the bed, grabbed a robe from the hook by the bathroom and stepped into the closet. Before I could even get my eye to the lens, I heard Allison's front door open. This was followed by a sudden shriek and a thud. I raced through the adjoining bathroom in time to see Allison slump to the floor. An unopened bottle of wine lay on the floor next to her head, and she was moaning. The window was wide open, the curtains flapping in the breeze.

  "Are you all right?" I asked. She nodded and moaned again, rubbing her shoulder. She didn't seem to be too badly hurt. I rushed to the window and looked out into the darkness.

  "I'll be right back," I said, making up my mind. I belted my robe and dashed out the door. To the east, I saw a shadowy figure disappear into the woods. There was nothing but heavily wooded walking trails in that direction. Sending a quick prayer skyward, I ran after the retreating figure.

  It didn't take me long to realize, however, that I was at a distinct disadvantage. For one thing, I wasn't wearing any shoes and the ground was covered with rocks, pine needles and pine cones. I also hadn't brought anything with me, such as a flashlight or the thirty-eight stashed in my closet. Nor did I have the vaguest idea where I was going. I stopped, listening to the sounds of the night, staring into the darkness. Then, using better judgment, I turned back.

  Allison was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. In her lap she held the bottle of wine that someone had obviously hit her with. On the table next to hem was a small platter of pate.

  "Did you see who it was?" she asked.

  I shook my head. "Too dark. By the time I got outside, they were already in the woods. Are you okay?"

  "I dodged at the last second. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I sensed something and moved just fast enough to avoid having my skull crushed.

  I've got a fairly deep contusion on my shoulder, though." She pulled back her blouse and showed me a rapidly swelling lump already turning blue. "If that bottle had connected with my head, I don't think either one would be in one piece. She had a vicious swing." She smiled, but her blue-green eyes looked frightened.

  "Did you see her at all?"

  She shook her head. "I walked in, turned to find the light switch on
the wall and got hit from behind. It took the breath right out of me. By the time I knew what had happened, she was already gone. I must have interrupted her while she was leaving the wine and my other little present." She indicated the pate. "I know I locked the door before I left."

  "How about the window?" I asked, checking the latch on the open window. It appeared to be unmolested.

  Allison looked crestfallen. "I didn't think to check. I mean, I did have it open earlier, but I thought I shut it. I'm not sure." After a moment, she chuckled. "I don't think I'll be trying the pate. What do you think?"

  The pate in question was heaped in a small oval mound in the center of the plate, accompanied by a butter knife and a dozen Ritz crackers. In front of the plate was a brief note. I looked at Allison in surprise. The note read, "For Allison, from Cassidy."

  "Obviously, they wanted me to think it was from you," she said.

  "Whoever it is, they sure as hell moved quickly. My name on the card must've been a last-minute thought. A nice little added touch."

  She bent over to sniff the pate.

  "Allison, don't." I pulled her back. "It could be poisoned. Depending on what was used, it could be dangerous just to inhale it. I'm going to bag it."

  I found a plastic Baggie and dumped the pate, plate and all, inside. I sealed it with a twist tie and carried it into my room, putting it in the back of the refrigerator. Somehow, I'd need to get it back to Portland for an analysis. Otherwise, we'd never know for sure. But I'd seen a tin of pate in my own refrigerator, and I knew it didn't come shaped in that mound. Obviously, someone had re-shaped it on the plate. Probably after adding a few ingredients, I thought.

  "They didn't waste much time, did they?" Her voice was so vulnerable, all my earlier anger dissipated.

  "There's something we need to look at," I said. My heart was beating rapidly. Could it be this easy? Was I really going to be able to break the case on the very first night? I took her into my closet and showed her the camera.

  "You videotaped my room?" she said. "Were you planning on telling me?"

  I ignored this and hit the rewind button. I flipped the little screen on the side of the camera to face us and hit the play button. I remembered, but too late., Allison's face appeared on the screen, and then the camera's angle widened so that her whole body was facing it. Her robe dropped, and there she stood, pale skin glistening from the heat of the spa. I closed my eyes, wishing I could disappear. The image of her erect nipples was still etched clearly in my mind. The screen went suddenly black and then came back on.

  "You were watching me?" she asked. I was glad I couldn't see her face beside me in the dark closet. I was glad she couldn't see mine.

  "I was trying to get the camera angle right when you walked in. I didn't know you were going to drop your robe. Honest."

  "I notice you didn't bother to rewind it, though." I couldn't tell if she was angry or amused. I was mortified.

  We sat in silence, crouched in the closet, staring at the screen. Whenever the motion sensor had picked up movement, the camera had caught the action. Unfortunately, the last action it caught was Allison flinging a red shirt into the closet right before we'd left for dinner. The shirt covered the hole, rendering the camera blind. I sighed and punched the rewind button. If only I'd told her, we'd have her attacker on tape.

  I could tell that Allison was upset too, but she was being a good sport about it. "Well, it's not a total loss," she said. I looked at her, puzzled. "We at least got a decent bottle of wine out of it. Come on, let's open it. She can't have poisoned a sealed bottle. Let's go out to the spa. My shoulder's killing me."

  "Well, I guess it isn't too likely she'll try twice in one night," I conceded. "But she might just come back to clear the evidence. Let me put another tape in, and then we can go."

  The moon shed enough light for us to see our way to the back without the flashlights the lodge had thoughtfully provided. To my surprise, the hot tub was not directly behind the cabin as I'd expected.

  "Come on, it's up here." Allison led me up some cedar stairs dug into the hill and as we climbed, the smell of sulphur grew stronger. Finally, we came to a clearing in the trees. There, completely protected from prying eyes, was our own private spa. Steam rose in great puffs of white from the dark water.

  "Look away," I said, slipping out of my robe.

  "Oh, right. After you videotaped me nude you want me to look away?" But she did, and moaning aloud, I sank into the wonderfully hot water.

  "That horse really gave you a ride, eh?" She climbed into the tub, and I studied the sky.

  "I was lucky just to hang on. Damn thing nearly broke my back."

  "Want me to rub it?" she asked.

  "No." I added, more softly, "But thanks."

  Allison laughed. "You really are afraid of me, aren't you? If I give you my word of honor that I won't try to seduce you, will you relax?"

  She handed me a glass and I took a sip of the dry but pleasantly fruity wine. It was the same red we'd had with dinner and I wondered if Allison's attacker had lifted a bottle from one of the tables. Through the trees we could see glimpses of the lake and the snowy peak of Mount Hood in the distance. The sky was studded with a brilliant splash of stars. The night air was chilly, but the hot water was thoroughly relaxing.

  "Maybe that was fourth down and now they'll give up," she said, sinking her sore shoulder below the water. I sighed. We both knew it wasn't very likely. We gazed again at the stars.

  "She didn't leave a note," I said.

  "The notes have always come later, though. She's probably composing one as we speak."

  "Hmmm."

  "What?" Allison asked.

  "I was just thinking. If the pate is poisoned, it fits the stalker's m.o. But hitting you with the bottle is a new twist. It could be she's getting more brazen."

  "It could be she wasn't expecting me to come in the door just then, too. You have any idea who it is yet?"

  "Who do you think it is?"

  "Not Billie."

  "I admit, I like her too. But I can't rule anyone out. Any one of them could have seen us walk down to the lake and figured they had enough time to drop off the pate."

  "I don't think it's Lacy either."

  "She does seem quite taken with you. Were you lovers?"

  "She'd like to be, but no, we've never been lovers. This may sound vain, but I think Lacy idolizes me too much. It wouldn't be right. She has spent the night at my house, but our relationship is purely platonic."

  "I didn't know you were so discriminating." This was a lousy thing to say and I knew it. When she didn't answer, I felt terrible. "Allison, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

  She pinned me down with a hard stare. "Yes, it was," she said. "As long as you don't make a habit of it. I'm not fond of mean-spirited people." She smiled then, and we both relaxed.

  "Like Reeva?"

  "Reeva's mostly bluster. She's really very insecure. She'd like more power because she truly believes that her ideas are the right way. She knows that she rubs people the wrong way, and she'd never get enough votes to be president. She resents my popularity."

  "I assume that if you were dead, she'd be president in your place. Maybe she's figured out the only way she'll ever be president is if that happens."

  "But there'll be a new election next year. One year's not very long. And besides, like I told you, Reeva probably doesn't even know I drink milk or that my driveway goes right out onto a highway. She's never been to my house. At least not by invitation."

  "But maybe she got that information from someone else," I offered. Or maybe she's been stalking you, I thought. Aloud I said, "Did she know you were allergic to bees?"

  "She could have, but she doesn't have a key to my house. As much as I don't trust Reeva, I don't think she's the one."

  I shrugged noncommittally. In truth, I didn't trust Reeva at all. And although I had started concocting motives for the other women, I still thought Reeva's motive was worth pursuing.

>   "Allie," I said, wondering why the nickname had tumbled out, "who gets your money when you die?"

  She stood up to pour us more wine. She seemed unconcerned with exposing her breasts, and after all, I had already seen them. Still, I couldn't help an admiring glance. I immediately turned toward the lake.

  "The organization. I've willed Women On Top my entire estate." She handed me my glass and slid back into the water.

  "You're kidding, right?" When she shook her head, I took a deep breath. "And how many people know this?"

  "Just my attorney, Kate Monroe, as far as I know. Then again, she was Holly's lover, off and on last year, so I suppose it's possible Holly knows. But she's never said anything to me about it. As the financial advisor for Women On Top, Holly's aware that on a few occasions I've made a personal donation. It's not something I want others to know and she respects that."

  "Jesus, Allison. You're telling me that the group's financial advisor and your own attorney were sleeping together and it never dawned on you that this might be about money?" I'd forgotten my earlier modesty and was standing in the tub. "How much, exactly, if I might ask, is your estate worth?"

  "Including my inheritance, about two million I'd guess."

  I stared at her, open-mouthed.

  "My great-grandfather was Sebastian Crane, the boat manufacturer. There was a lot more money at one time, from what I understand, but my dear old dad managed to gamble most of it away. Before he drove his T-Bird off a bridge, killing my mother and himself in the process. Not intentionally, so they say. But there was no other car involved, so who knows? Anyway, that's ancient history. Most of the two million is from a trust fund my father couldn't touch. I haven't touched it much myself, for that matter. It's just sitting there collecting interest."

  "And you never considered that this might be worth mentioning?" My voice had risen at least an octave.

 

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