Falling Awake(45)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

She picked up a knife and started to slice tomatoes. “Do you think the fact that Randolph was so callous and unfeeling about what happened to Gavin Hardy means he might have had something to do with his death?”

“If he killed him without getting the information concerning the three mystery clients out of him first, he really screwed up, didn’t he?” Ellis said.

“True. I’ll call my friend Ken Payne after dinner and see what he has to say about the situation at the center. He’s always a great one for in-house gossip.” She turned toward the refrigerator and then paused, looking worried. “Do you have a problem with puff pastry?”

“Depends what you plan to do with it.”

She looked anxious. “Cook it and serve it for dinner.”

He smiled slowly. “If you make it, I will come.”

21

she finally got ahold of Ken Payne at ten o’clock that evening. He sounded pleased to hear from her.

“Isabel, I’ve been meaning to call you but I’ve been kind of busy since you left. I kept that appointment with the cardiologist. The next thing I knew, I was headed into surgery.”

“What was it?”

“Aortic aneurism. Disaster waiting to happen but a straightforward repair job if you find it in time. Had the operation on Monday. I’m home and doing great.”

“Ken, I’m so relieved to hear that.”

“They said the problem is often hereditary and that an aneurism is probably what killed my father and grandfather. It often goes undiagnosed because there are no symptoms until it ruptures, and then it’s usually too late. The results look very much like a sudden heart attack so that’s usually what goes down in the records as the cause of death.”

“But you’re okay, now?”

“Better than new, they tell me. Susan is here with me.” There was a short pause and then Ken came back. “She says thanks for everything. Needless to say, I second that. I really owe you, Isabel.”

“I’m just relieved that everything worked out so well.”

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t been back to the center since the operation but I’ve heard things are kind of chaotic there.”

“Yes, I can imagine. Not my problem anymore, though—I’m starting a new job at my brother-in-law’s company. It will pay the bills until I can get my consulting business up and running. Did you hear about Gavin Hardy?”

“Yeah, Jason called with the news this afternoon. What a shocker, huh? What was Hardy doing in your neck of the woods?”

She looked at Ellis, who was crouched in front of one of the six cartons containing Martin Belvedere’s research papers. He was sorting the documents by date.

When they had opened the first box after dinner they were dismayed to discover that several decades’ worth of notes, dream logs and unpublished journal manuscripts had been dumped haphazardly inside. Evidently, although the lawyers had dutifully saved everything Belvedere sent to them over the years, they had not felt any obligation to organize the mass of paperwork.

“Gavin was trying to put together a stake so he could go back to Las Vegas,” she said carefully. “He offered to sell me some confidential client information he had discovered on Belvedere’s computer, but he was killed before I could find out what it was.”

“Confidential client data, huh? That sounds like something Hardy would try to peddle. He wasn’t a bad sort, but he definitely had a gambling addiction.”

“He lived for those trips to Vegas,” she agreed. “Did Jason have any other office gossip from the center?”

“He mentioned that several people are dusting off their résumés. I’m thinking of doing the same. Word is that the funding has dropped off quite a bit since the old man died. There’s even some question about whether or not Randolph will have to declare bankruptcy.”

Isabel curled her legs under her and frowned at Ellis, who was listening to every word. “That sounds serious.”

“That’s about it, gossip-wise,” Ken said. “Unless you’re interested in the news that Randolph Belvedere and Amelia Netley are an item.”

Isabel raised her brows. “No kidding? They managed to keep that quiet while I was there. Never had a clue.”

“According to Sandra Johnson, they were seeing each other even before the old man died.”

“Sandra would know. She sits right outside Belvedere’s office and she doesn’t miss a thing.”

“There may be trouble in paradise, though. Sandra heard Amelia and Randolph arguing behind closed doors a couple of times after you left.”

“Ken, you are a fountain of interesting office news, as usual.”

They chatted for a few more minutes and then Isabel said goodbye and put down the phone.

Ellis stopped stacking papers, got to his feet and rotated his right arm in an absent, circular motion, loosening his shoulder. She saw the faint tightening at the corners of his eyes.

“Would you like some anti-inflammatories?” she asked, starting to rise from the sofa.

“I’m fine,” he said tersely. “Did Payne have anything useful?”

“No, unfortunately. He’s recovering from surgery so he hasn’t been in his office since shortly after I left. The only gossip he had was the news that Randolph is sleeping with a member of the professional staff, Amelia Netley. Not very helpful, I’m afraid.”

“Who’s next on your list?”

She glanced down at the pad of paper on the table next to the phone. “Sandra Johnson. She was Martin Belvedere’s secretary. Randolph inherited her.”

She was reaching for the phone again when a muffled clatter followed by a soft thud sounded from the vicinity of the small laundry room off the kitchen.

Ellis spun around so quickly he was almost a blur. He dove for the briefcase and came up with a pistol in his hand.

Before Isabel could recover from her shock, he had hit the light switch on the wall, dousing all the living room lamps.

The space was plunged into darkness.

“Ellis—”

“Get down on the floor,” he ordered, his voice dangerously soft.

“But—”

“Do it.”

She sensed him moving toward the kitchen. It was all happening so fast she could scarcely understand it. Then she had a sudden, horrifying thought.

“Don’t shoot, it’s just Sphinx,” she said quickly. “He’s using the dog door in the laundry room. Please, don’t hurt him.”