White Lies (Page 49)

White Lies (The Arcane Society #2)(49)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“Like what?”

“‘Well, at least Jake will be able to keep an eye on you.’ I got the same line from Elizabeth.” She went past him along the wide hall, heading for the kitchen. “It’s very irritating. The only one who doesn’t see things that way is Myra.”

He followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table to drink his tea. “You saw Myra today?”

“About an hour ago.” Clare opened the refrigerator, took out the jug of iced tea and poured herself a glass. “Let me tell you, if you think my conspiracy theories are over the top, just wait until you hear hers. She thinks that I have worked my wicked wiles on you and have you in my power.”

He smiled. “That sounds interesting.”

She sat down across from him. “Turns out she’s convinced that I’m determined to have my revenge on the Glazebrook family, first by destroying Elizabeth’s marriage and now by seducing you into assisting me with some diabolical scheme.”

He thought about that. “She give any indication of what she believes the nature of this diabolical scheme might be?”

“No. She’s still working on that part of her theory.” Clare sat back, drank some tea and lowered the glass. “But she knows that whatever it is, it will be bad for the Glazebrooks.”

“Don’t worry about Myra. She’ll come around in her own time.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But on another front, I did accomplish one thing today. I made an appointment for myself this afternoon at the spa in Phoenix where Elizabeth thinks Brad went to meet his girlfriend.”

An icy chill gripped Jake’s insides. The cold had nothing to do with the iced tea.

“You did what?” he said.

Chapter Thirty-one

Jake hadn’t actually raised his voice but Clare winced anyway.

“I thought it would be a discreet way to check the place out,” she said, baffled by his reaction.

“You’re not some kind of undercover cop, Clare. You can’t just go marching in and start asking blunt questions about a sensational murder.”

She was starting to get irritated. It annoyed her that he did not immediately appreciate the cleverness of her scheme.

“Give me some credit here,” she said. “Until recently I’ve made a pretty good living detecting frauds and scam artists. I am not a complete amateur at this kind of thing.”

“You may be good with scammers but you’re a total amateur at investigating a murder. I do not want you going to that spa alone.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she said, striving to make her voice soothing. “What could possibly happen?”

“Let me think. Right, I remember now. The last time you went to a spa you nearly got brained with an eight-pound dumbbell.”

She shuddered. “Okay, point taken. But the person wielding the dumbbell is gone, so dumbbells shouldn’t be a problem. Besides, no one at the Phoenix spa knows me. I’ve never been there before in my life.”

“You can’t be sure you won’t be recognized.”

“I booked my appointment under a phony name,” she said, proud of that bit of initiative. “I’m going to pay in cash. No one will see a credit card.”

“I still don’t like it,” he said.

“I appreciate your concern.”

“It’s not concern you’re hearing,” he said. “It’s panic.”

“I’m sure that expensive business consultants do not panic. Look, I just wanted to let you know where I’m going to be this afternoon in case I’m late getting back here. My appointment is at four o’clock. I booked a fifty-minute massage, so what with changing clothes and paying the bill, I should be out a little after five. But it’s a long drive so I might not return until close to six.”

“Book an appointment for me, too,” Jake said flatly. “I’m coming with you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Book an appointment for me, too,” Jake repeated. “Or I’ll do it myself.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “What kind of treatment do you want? Massage? Steam?”

“I don’t give a damn as long as you don’t sign me up for anything that involves wax.”

Jake was still in a grim mood when he drove the BMW into the parking lot of the Secret Springs Day Spa.

“You know,” Clare said, “if you’re going to get like this every time I make a decision you don’t approve of, we may have a problem with this partnership.”

“Relationship.” He unsnapped his seat belt, got out and closed the door a little too deliberately.

She scrambled out and looked at him over the roof of the car.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“You called what we have a partnership.” Sunlight sparked dangerously off the black lenses of his sunglasses. “It’s a relationship.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to take that. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“No,” he said deliberately, “I don’t always know what you mean, especially when you use a word like ‘partnership.’ In my world partnership has serious business connotations. Try another term.” He paused a beat. “Unless, of course, you want to sign a written contract with me.”

She blinked, feeling more than a little flummoxed. Then, out of nowhere, laughter bubbled up inside her.

“Something tells me I’d be a fool to sign a contract with you, Jake. You’re a business consultant. I’m sure that when it comes to wheeling and dealing you’re way out of my league.”

His jaw tightened. His face was now a stony mask. So much for trying to coax him out of a bad mood with a little humor, she thought. She hadn’t had much luck with Myra, either. Obviously she wasn’t going down well as a stand-up comedian today.

Then to her astonishment, the corner of Jake’s mouth edged upward in a humorless smile.

“You can bet I’d enforce every damn clause,” he said.

He delivered the warning in soft, ice-and-lava tones that gave her the exciting little-hair-stirring-on-the-nape-of-her-neck sensation. She could not come up with an adequate response, so she decided to keep her mouth shut.

Jake opened one of the heavy glass doors, held it for her and then followed her into the air-conditioned, artistically lit reception area.

She took off her sunglasses and surveyed the polished stone floors, the long, gleaming granite desk and the two generically beautiful receptionists. One male, one female.