Illusions

by Janet Dailey

  “I’ll see about it right away,” he promised. “Anything else?”

  “Are you sure you want to attend that concert tomorrow night?” With Rina in town, Delaney had new concerns about the outing.

  “Because of Rina.”

  “In a word, yes.”

  A sexy smile curved his mouth. “I’ll be safe with you, won’t I? Besides, music is good for the soul.”

  Delaney sighed and shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.

  FIFTEEN

  SCARVES OF FUCHSIA-TINTED CLOUDS trailed across the sky in the west, trapping the last rays of sunset. Lengthening shadows darkened the green of the mountain slopes, the light and heat of day slowly fading. From the music tent came the strains of Beethoven’s “Violin Sonata” as deft and artful fingers coaxed evocative sounds from old wood and strings.

  Delaney sat on a corner of the striped Indian blanket spread on the grassy area outside the tent. To her relief, Lucas had decided against joining the throng of people occupying seats inside the tent. Instead, he had opted to sit outside—as had many others, young and old, families with children and hand-holding couples, singles and groups. Some picnicked from baskets; others sipped wine and munched on canapés; some tossed Frisbees; others chased runaway toddlers; some stood by the entrance to the tent; some strolled aimlessly; some snoozed. Movement. Everywhere there was movement.

  And Rina Cole was still in town. Susan St. Jacque had called this morning with word that Rina had taken a suite at the Little Nell.

  Now, one thought kept running through Delaney’s mind—the comment Susan St. Jacque had made several days ago about Rina’s desire for a house near the music tent.

  Lucas shifted his position on the blanket and leaned back on his elbows, hooking one leg over the other, the movement drawing Delaney’s glance. Clad in sneakers, blue jeans, and a polo shirt, with dark glasses shielding his eyes, he looked like any of the many athletically built men seen all over Aspen. Almost, but not quite, as evidenced by the many glances of recognition that came his way, and the numerous greetings by longtime acquaintances. Some came over to the blanket, but most were content to wave and have their salute acknowledged by Lucas.

  “Enjoying yourself?” he asked, indicating he’d noticed her glance.

  “I hadn’t better be. I’m supposed to be on duty.” She scanned the area again, then looked at the sky.

  With the sun gone, dusk would settle quickly over the valley. Delaney dreaded the moment when all these people became shadowy figures, barely distinguishable one from another except by size and lightness of their clothes or hair. Identification by sight would become difficult if not impossible, especially if someone took pains to disguise his appearance—as Rina had done once before in New York.

  “Don’t you like the music?” Toby sat Indian-fashion on the blanket, intermittently swaying to the tempo and sucking chocolate milk from a cardboard container through a straw.

  “I like it.” Actually, she wasn’t sure she’d heard a single note. Her senses had tuned it out, along with the gurgling laughter of a toddler, the low murmur of conversation, and the distant hum of street traffic.

  “I like it, too,” he stated with an aggressive nod. “Except when it’s sad. I don’t like it when it’s sad. It makes me feel bad. I like it best when it dances.”

  Delaney smiled at his phrase, finding it an apt description of the light and airy notes coming from the tent. A breeze sprang up, carrying the cool of evening on its breath—and the smoke from a cigarette. Idly she glanced in Riley’s direction. He stood some thirty feet away, tall and rangy, a cigarette between his fingers. He looked straight back in silent challenge. Then he nodded toward the man standing beside him. Curious, Delaney looked to see who it was, and immediately stiffened in surprise.

  “What’s wrong?” Reacting to her movement, Lucas turned, balancing on one elbow.

  “Nothing.” She gazed at Jared with a mixture of contradictory emotions—relief, tension, pleasure, and wariness—as Jared touched the brim of his hat to her.

  “A friend of mine is with Riley. I’ll be right back.”

  She crossed the grassy space between them, conscious of a rising tension. She felt the coolness of Riley’s eyes on her as clearly as she felt the warmth of Jared’s.

  Riley dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. “Want me to take your place?” he asked, showing no expression whatsoever, neither approval or disapproval.

  “Only for a few minutes,” she said.

  He nodded and strolled off toward the blanket. Delaney automatically assumed his former position, her quick scan noting the expanded view it provided.

  “I don’t know why I’m surprised to see you here,” she said to Jared. “You always enjoyed classical music.”

  “True, but I’m not here for the music. I came to see you.”

  “How—” she began, then stopped, guessing, “You stopped by the condo and Vance told you we were here.”

  “That’s right.”

  She could feel his eyes on her, silently watching, silently wanting. She tried to examine her own feelings, but there was too much tension, too much uncertainty.

  “The hay’s in,” Jared said into the silence.

  “Is it?” She noticed the ruddiness beneath his dark tan, its presence confirming a recent and long exposure to the sun’s burning rays. And she noticed, too, the way it weathered his face and lightened the color of his eyes, making them appear more gray than blue.

  “You said you weren’t ready to leap into anything, but I thought you might be willing to take a small step and have a late dinner with me tonight after you’re through.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll wait.” He wasn’t giving her an out. But she didn’t really want one. In that same second, Delaney realized Riley had been right—she had to find out whether anything remained of what she and Jared had shared. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life regretting that she’d thrown away her chance at love, all because of pride. There was risk involved, the risk of being hurt again. But she took risks every day.

  “Not dinner,” she said. “I doubt I’ll be hungry. But I’ll meet you for a drink at the Jerome Bar.”

  “You’ve got a date.”

  A date. The word had an innocent and old-fashioned ring to it that was somehow reassuring. Delaney smiled, no longer feeling the need to question the wisdom of her decision. The sense of ease didn’t last as she encountered Riley’s gaze boring into her. She glanced away from it and noticed that Lucas was watching her as well, his sunglasses off, an outstretched arm propping him upright. Instantly she made a swift, visual sweep of the area, aware that for a brief span of seconds she had been distracted by Jared and momentarily dropped her guard. A mistake that could have been costly. One she didn’t intend to let happen again.

  “I have to get back,” she said. “Duty calls.”

  Jared started to protest, then apparently changed his mind. “I’ll meet you at the Jerome.”

  “I don’t know what time I’ll get there. It might be late.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” he promised.

  Delaney nodded absently and moved away, her attention centering once again on the protection of her client as she headed back to the blanket. She felt the brief probe of Riley’s glance when she rejoined them, and ignored it.

  “She’s back, Luke. Can we go now?” Toby cast an anxious look at the deepening blue of the sky above. “It’s getting so dark.”

  “The concert isn’t over yet.”

  “I don’t care. I wanna go. Please, Luke.” He fidgeted on the blanket.

  The smallest flicker of irritation showed in his face as Lucas hesitated, then gave in. “All right, we’ll go. Help me fold the blanket.”

  Toby rolled off the blanket and picked up a corner, barely giving Delaney and Lucas time to get up before he hauled the ends together.

  “The car’s parked about four blocks from he
re,” she told Lucas. “I’ll have John go and bring it around. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  “I wanna go now.” Toby jiggled in place, fretting at the delay like an overgrown child. “You said we could leave.”

  “We’ll walk to the car.”

  Hearing that, John Wyatt immediately moved out to take the point. Toby hurried after him at an ungainly scamper. Lucas followed, the folded blanket slung over his shoulder. He glanced sideways at Delaney when she fell in step on his right.

  “Sorry.” His mouth slanted in a rueful line. “Toby’s afraid of the dark. I thought he’d gotten over that.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” she replied as applause broke out in the music tent.

  “Maybe not,” he conceded. “Maybe apologizing for Toby’s little quirks has become more of habit than I realize.”

  “It’s understandable. Most people feel a need to protect the innocent.” And there was a touching innocence about Toby, evident in the way he made no attempt to conceal either his joys or his fears.

  As they left the meadow and the music tent, the melodically full notes from a harp drifted after them. The tree-lined street in the residential West End was in heavy shadow. Houselights winked on, holding dusk at bay a little longer. Somewhere a sprinkler clicked in ceaseless rhythm, throwing a hissing spray of water over a green lawn. Shying from the sound, Toby hugged the outside edge of the sidewalk and turned to walk backwards.

  “Can’t we go faster, Luke?”

  Lucas responded by picking up the pace a little, which seemed to pacify Toby. He swung back around and hurried to catch up with John, who ranged some thirty feet in front of them while Riley lagged a few feet behind, echoing their footsteps.

  “The man in the cowboy hat, he looked familiar,” Lucas remarked. “Who is he?”

  “Jared McCallister. He has a ranch outside of Aspen.”

  Lucas nodded in a remembering fashion, then gave her a curious look. “How do you happen to know him? I thought you said you’d never been to Aspen before.”

  “I haven’t. I met him several years ago in L.A.”

  “L.A.” He raised an eyebrow at that. “What was he doing there?”

  “Trying to find his sister.”

  “He has a sister in L.A.?”

  “He doesn’t know where she is. She disappeared—ran away.”

  “Drugs, right?” Lucas guessed.

  “That’s the consensus.”

  “I’m not surprised. There was a time not too many years ago when they said Aspen was the ‘snow capital,’ they weren’t referring to the white powder on the slopes. Most of that has changed. Or else, like most towns, it’s gone underground. Sometimes I realize how lucky I was, that I didn’t get caught up in the drug scene. But I had more important things to spend my money on.” He looked at Toby when he said that.

  John Wyatt made a right turn at the next corner and headed west. He slackened his pace and glanced back to make certain the change in direction had been noted. Toby waited at the corner, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

  “It’s getting darker, Luke.” His tone bordered on a fretful whine.

  “It’s only a couple more blocks to the car,” Lucas assured him.

  “Are you sure? I’m getting scared, Luke.”

  “There’s no need to be afraid. We’re right here with you.”

  But Toby didn’t take much comfort from that as he hurried after Wyatt, almost running now, darting frightened glances at the deepening black shadows around him.

  “Exactly how did you meet Jared?” Lucas asked, resuming their previous conversation. “Did you look for runaways and missing persons back then?”

  “No, but someone told him I did. After he explained his problem, I recommended another firm to him.”

  “You must have seen him again after that.”

  “A few times.” She didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking.

  “I suppose you gave him a call when you got into town.”

  “No. I ran into him quite by accident.”

  “You agreed to meet him later tonight, didn’t you?” It was a statement, not a question, and the grimness in his voice indicated he didn’t like the idea. “Don’t go, Delaney.” When she would have objected, he raised a hand to stop her. “I know—it’s none of my business who you see. But I want it to be me. I’ve been interested in you from the start and you know it.”

  “We’ve been over this, Lucas,” she said with forced patience.

  “And we’ll go over it again. You can count on it.”

  “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

  “Why do you refuse to take me seriously?”

  “Maybe you don’t strike me as the serious type.” She recalled too well the number of times she’d seen him use his charm and flattery on other women.

  “You’re wrong, Delaney. With the right woman, I could be very serious.”

  “Wasn’t that a line in one of your movies?”

  She heard the angry breath he exhaled. A second later his hand caught her arm, bringing her to a halt. She had a moment to see the flash of temper in his eyes, then Toby interrupted, his voice thin and wavering, his bulky shape backpedaling rapidly toward them. “Luke, I don’t wanna go this way.”

  Out of patience, Lucas snapped, “Dammit, Toby—”

  “There’s…that…house, Luke.” His voice broke with silent, frightened sobs of breath. When he turned, his face looked unnaturally pale, his chin and lower lip quivering. “Don’t make me go, Luke, I don’t want to.”

  “What the hell are you talking about Toby? It’s just a house.” Lucas threw a quick look at the corner dwelling.

  Not a light gleamed from its windows, turning their panes into blank, sightless eyes and drenching its exterior in shadow. Its roofline was a collection of spires, turrets, and sharp peaks silhouetted against the evening sky. With a little imagination, it could seem looming and sinister.

  “You don’t need to be afraid, Toby. I know it looks scary, but—” She stopped, realizing that the old Victorian house belonged to Susan St. Jacque. “You know who lives there, don’t—”

  Too late she discovered Toby wasn’t listening as he bolted past her into the street, running as fast as he could, his arms windmilling through the air, a long, drawn-out “Nooooo!” trailing behind him. Riley sprinted after him. At the same instant, Lucas muttered a curse and gave chase. She shouted at Wyatt to get the car and ran after all three.

  Riley caught up with Toby more than a block away, but it took Lucas to subdue him. By the time Delaney reached them, he had Toby wrapped in a tight hug, holding him, trying to quiet him while Toby sobbed incoherent words, his whole body shaking.

  “Sssh, Toby,” Lucas crooned and stroked a hand down the back of his head, comforting him as he would a frightened child. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.” Toby mumbled something Delaney couldn’t understand. “Don’t think about it. It’s over. You’re with me. I won’t let anyone take you away. I promise.”

  Seeing Toby like that, Delaney wondered what secret monsters the sight of the darkened house had unleashed for him. The same question seemed to be on Riley’s mind when he met her glance. Lucas hugged Toby tighter and gently rocked him from side to side. It was an image that stayed with her long after Wyatt arrived with the car.

  “That was a curious little incident,” Riley remarked after they were back at the house on Red Mountain and its occupants were settled in for the night. “What brought it on? Do you know?”

  Delaney shook her head in a gesture of uncertainty. “According to Lucas, Toby is afraid of the dark. Then he saw that house…” She let the sentence trail off, unfinished. “It’s where Susan St. Jacque lives. Maybe Toby knew that. Maybe he remembered how much she dislikes him.”

  “It’s possible,” Riley conceded. “I have to admit, there’s something about that St. Jacque woman that I don’t trust either.”

  “She seems nice enough.” But De
laney knew Susan St. Jacque was not the kind of woman she would want as a friend. More than that, she suspected that the gallery owner was the type who didn’t want other women for friends.

  “Nice is as nice does,” Riley murmured cynically. “And something tells me Miss St. Jacque is about as nice as a rogue leopard. The man-eating variety.”

  “Maybe.” Seeking to turn the conversation away from the oddly troubling incident, Delaney glanced at her watch. “It’s almost ten. Everything’s quiet here. I think I’ll take off and leave it in your hands.”

  “Got a heavy date with Jared?” Riley guessed, his eyes cool and speculating in their study of her.

  “I don’t know if you’d call it a date.” Suddenly the word didn’t sound as innocent and old-fashioned coming from Riley. “I’m meeting him for a drink at the Jerome.”

  “Is that wise?” he asked in a voice dry with disapproval.

  “Wait a minute,” Delaney protested, half-annoyed with him. “Are you saying that you don’t think I should see him? This from the same man who, over a week ago, told me that he hoped I would run into Jared again?”

  “That was four days ago.”

  “What changed in between?”

  “Nothing,” he replied evenly. “I just wouldn’t like to see you get hurt again.”

  Unable to argue with that, Delaney managed a small smile. “Don’t worry, Riley. I’m not going to fall so easily a second time.”

  “I hope you don’t fall at all.”

  “If I do,” her smile widened, “you can catch me like you did the last time.”

  Shortly after ten o’clock that night, Delaney pushed through the Gothic doors of the Jerome Bar. The evening crowd filled it and spilled over into the adjoining room. She scanned the throng of people gathered around the tables, most seated, some standing, dressed in a mixture of denim and silk.

  She heard her name called and spotted Jared at the bar, an Oriental confection of the bleached wood fretwork that was popular during the Victorian period—like the pressed-tin ceiling and the brass-and-etched-glass light fixtures that hung from it. She dodged an exiting couple and walked over to join him.