White Lies (The Arcane Society #2)(29)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“I feel sorry for you, Clare. You know I do. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you all those years, never knowing your father and your sister and brother. But, frankly, I’m damned grateful that you exist. Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare about Brad I start to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been out there and if you hadn’t contacted me when you did.”

Clare reached across the space that separated them and touched her arm. “But I was there and we did meet.”

“Thank heavens,” Elizabeth whispered. “If I could just get Mom to listen. But she keeps saying that it’s best if we all forget about what happened and move on with our lives. I’ve never seen her so adamant. It’s like she’s in total denial.”

“Let it go, Liz. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

“I suppose your saving my life gets filed under the no-good-deed-goes-unpunished rule.”

Clare smiled. “I didn’t save your life. You made the decision to trust me. In doing so, you saved your own life and very likely Archer’s and Matt’s as well, if our theory about Brad’s motives is right.”

“Our theory is correct,” Elizabeth said. “I know it is, although we’ll never be able to prove it now.”

“Like I said, time to let it go.”

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment.

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” she asked.

Clare thought about the conversation at breakfast.

“I invited Jake out to dinner,” she said. “He accepted.”

“You invited him? This is getting exciting.”

“Well, actually, he asked me out again but I declined.”

“For heaven’s sake, why?”

“Something tells me that with a man like him, it’s probably a good idea to keep the score even. I don’t want him to feel that he’s running things in this relationship. Assuming you can call one date a relationship.”

“No offense to your feminine instincts, Clare, but I honestly don’t think letting him feed you dinner twice in a row would make him conclude that he’s got the upper hand.”

“I think it’s sort of a game we’re playing,” Clare said. “Hard to explain.”

“Sounds interesting. Where are you going to take him?”

“I haven’t decided but after splurging on that dress and pair of shoes yesterday, I can guarantee you that it won’t be one of the high-end resort restaurants. Got any suggestions?”

“Well, there’s a little Mexican place that Dad raves about. They make their own tortillas, and according to Dad, who knows these things, they serve the best green corn tamales in the Valley. He and Owen go there a lot after a round of golf. It’s right here in Stone Canyon.”

“Sounds like just what I’m looking for.”

“I’ll give you the address. They don’t take reservations so you may have a wait in the evenings.”

Hushed footsteps sounded on the tile floor behind the recliners. Two spa attendants garbed in the establishment’s pale green and brown uniforms and soft-soled athletic shoes appeared.

“Ms. Glazebrook, it’s time for your facial,” one of them said.

Elizabeth rose from the recliner. “See you in an hour, Clare. Enjoy the Tropical Experience Chamber.”

The second attendant smiled at Clare. “If you’ll follow me, Ms. Lancaster?”

Clare accompanied the woman down a tranquilly lit hall. “What’s this Tropical Experience thing, exactly?” she asked. “The brochure said something about waterfalls.”

“It’s one of our most popular therapies,” the attendant assured her. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

She opened a door and ushered Clare into a small slice of a lush, tropical paradise. Palms, ferns and exotic blooming plants framed a large spa tub disguised as a rocky grotto. A waterfall shower cascaded into the tub creating a low, rushing, churning sound. The ceiling was decorated with a mock canopy of dark green leaves. The low, ambient lighting gave the room the aura of a jungle at dawn.

“I like it already,” Clare announced. She untied the sash of her robe. “This is going to be fun.”

“Take your time and relax,” the attendant said. “This is a forty-minute experience. I’ll come and get you when it’s finished.”

She let herself out into the hall and closed the door.

Clare hung the robe on a convenient hook and went up the spa steps. She stepped gingerly into the fake grotto pool. The jetted water was warm and fragrant.

She lowered herself onto an underwater seat, stretched her arms out on either side and prepared to savor the Good Life.

It occurred to her that the imitation grotto was large enough to hold two people. She allowed herself to slip into a pleasant fantasy that involved sharing the delightful tropical setting with someone interesting, Jake Salter for instance.

Probably not a good idea to be fantasizing about Jake, she thought. But fantasies were notoriously hard to control. That’s why they called them fantasies, she reminded herself. No problem. As long as she kept Jake in the fantasy realm she was safe. Right?

Something told her that nothing connected to Jake Salter was safe; not for her, at any rate. Last night she had played with fire. Tonight she was planning to do it again. After a lifetime of caution around men the uncharacteristic streak of recklessness made her smile.

The water splashed and bubbled around her. She rested her head against a towel-covered pillow attached to the back of the spa tub and watched the waterfall. The cascading water was soothing, almost hypnotic.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she heard the door open behind her.

“Is my forty minutes up already?” she asked.

There was no reply. Clare heard the sole of a hard leather shoe slap against the tile floor.

A leather shoe.

That was wrong. Everyone around here wore slippers or athletic shoes.

The same panicky awareness that had hit her the day before in the parking garage flashed through her again. It was as if someone had traced the length of her spine with a sliver of ice from an ancient glacier. Intense cold chilled her to the bone.

Acting on her fight-or-flight impulse, she shoved herself away from the side of the tub into the middle of the grotto pool. She whipped around in the water, turning to face the door.

She had a split second to register the bizarre sight of a figure garbed in a spa robe and towel turban standing at the far end of the tub. The intruder’s features were obscured by a green-tinged mud-like facial mask.