Liar's Moon (3 page)

“You just sneaked into my suite.”

“My brother’s suite.”

“It was reserved in my name, Miss— Just what name are you going by these days, Tracy? Your father told me you had it legally changed to Kuger—but you don’t use it, do you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business. You didn’t answer my question; you were after me for coming in through the balcony—why didn’t you knock at the door?”

“Would you have let me in?”

“No.”

“I rest my case.”

“Good. Get out, then.”

He didn’t move. She grew acutely uncomfortable as he studied her with blunt curiosity, his unfathomable gaze moving at a leisurely pace from her eyes to her toes. “You haven’t changed, Tracy.”

“I most certainly have. Drastically.”

“Well, you’ve got that same nasty streak. Once upon a time you used me to get to your father. Are you using Jamie now to get to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I never expected to see you again. I had no idea you were with Jamie.”

“But I’m at the top of your suspect list. How were you
planning on proving that I was in on a conspiracy to commit murder without seeing me?”

Tracy took a breath without answering him. She didn’t know how she was going to prove anything—she only knew that she had to get to the truth.

He waited for several seconds, watching her. She wished that she could run into her bedroom and wrap herself in an all-encompassing blanket to ward off that scrutiny, but she didn’t move. She didn’t intend to show a single sign of weakness in front of him—ever. Not after the way that they had last parted—he furious, she screaming and in tears.

He took his feet off the coffee table, folded his hands before him, and sighed softly as he stared down at them.

“Tracy, you’re being a fool when it’s a dangerous time to be one.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

He hesitated a moment, then stood, coming toward her. Instinctively, she backed away, but he didn’t appear to notice. His hands fell upon her shoulders. His hands! Seven years, and she remembered them so well! Oh, feeling them again
…
Fingers long and tapering, magic upon a keyboard or a gui
tar, magic upon bare flesh…

She almost screamed with the crippling memory of it. She didn’t, because he was already talking.

“Tracy, I know, too, that there was something more to your father’s death. I hired a detective, too. I know all about the money deposited into Martin Smith’s account.”

She inhaled sharply, staring up into his eyes. Years were swept away. She knew his gaze—dark, passionate, tense.

“If you know—”

“Tracy, you can’t wander around making accusations—unless you want a hired assassin coming after you.”

“I’m not making accusations—”

“You accused me.”

“You belong in a list of suspects!” she cried out. And it was too much for her. She wrenched away from him and started for the door to the suite. “Leif, there’s no need for you to leave by the balcony. Please, go by the front door.”

She turned around and discovered that he was standing patiently where she had left him, still watching her, still waiting.

“Tracy, we’re not done.”

“We’ve been done for years.”

“I wasn’t talking about the past, but we can discuss that, too, if you wish.”

“I don’t wish.”

“Fine. But come back here and sit down.”

“Leif—”

“Tracy,” he interrupted, “you can come back and sit down, or I can come over and insist that you sit down.”

“I’m not eighteen anymore!”

He laughed bitterly. “You weren’t eighteen then, either, Tracy.”

“I was almost—”

“Almost, but not quite. You convinced me that you were twenty-three. I would have believed it until I died— if your grandfather hadn’t threatened to have me locked up for twenty years on several counts of statutory rape! Which, at that point, was exactly what I felt I deserved. I felt like a child molester!”

“My grandfather wouldn’t have—”

“No—he wouldn’t. He couldn’t have bo
rn
the publicity. He decided to knock me out with a baseball bat instead.”

“Dammit! I’m sorry! I had no control over what happened then! I was a minor. They dragged me out— they—”

“Yep—they dragged you out and whisked you away. And thankfully Jesse decided that he didn’t really want me dead and he called an ambulance. Okay, Tracy, so your grandfather controlled you. He controlled your mother all her life, too. I’m surprised your stepfather is sane. But tell me, Tracy, does he still control you? You turned eighteen a month later. You never called with an explanation—or an apology.”

“You’re forgetting something, aren’t you, Mr. Johnston?” Tracy queried softly. She felt like she was strangling. “You were married to Celia a month later. I didn’t know if it was something you had discussed with your bride or not. I presumed, like everyone else, that you wanted to pretend it had never happened.”

“Oh, it happened, Tracy. It most certainly happened!”

Tracy felt the blood drain from her face. Seven years hadn’t really eased one bit of that horribly humiliating day. It suddenly seemed very unfair that such a miserable mistake of her youth should haunt her forever, that there was no going back. She could never explain the truth to him now; she could never tell him how sorry she was. And she could certainly never tell him that she had already paid far more dearly than he could ever know. She made an impatient sound and inhaled deeply. “Leif—has it occurred to you that being near you right now is a very difficult experience for me?”

“Tracy—it’s not exactly easy for me
!
But I’m talking about life and death! Yours. Now get over here and sit!”

How much had the man changed? she wondered a little nervously. Or had he changed at all? The way he was staring at her, she didn’t think she wanted to risk his temper, although she despised the fact that she was going
to obey him. She felt seventeen again—with someone else taking charge of her life.

“Tracy!” It was the softest whisper of her name; it was a warning and again recall came upon her in a staggering burst of lightning. Tracy! He had said her name just the same way that awful night when he had discovered himself betrayed—and when he hadn’t wanted to believe it. Tracy! Is it true?

She lowered her lashes, set her jaw, and returned to the couch, sitting quite stiffly upon it.

And to her horror, he came to her, lowered on one knee to take her hands in his in such a grip that she couldn’t wrench away; she could only meet his eyes. His encompassed her own.

“Tracy, listen to me. You can’t do anything, and you can’t say anything. You should have never said anything to Jamie—”

“He’s my brother!” she burst out passionately. “He’s the only one that I can trust in this!”

Leif shook his head impatiently. “Tracy! This isn’t the way to go about it! Now you’ve gotten Jamie involved, and I’m willing to bet that you haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re going to do!”

“Leif!” With a gasp she pulled away from him, retreating around the back of the sofa and facing him again from that safe distance. “Jamie needed to know!”

He lifted a brow to her, then started down the hall and made a left. Tracy frowned, aware that he had gone into the little kitchenette. She trailed quickly after him, pausing in the doorway.

In amazement she stared at him while he switched on the drip coffeepot and rifled through the shelves for coffee and filters.

“What do you think you’re doing now?” she demanded irritably. “Leif—it’s close to four o’clock in the morning and you’re—”

“Making coffee. You can help, or you can sit, because I’m not leaving until we’ve gotten this straightened out.”

“Leif—”

“What?” He poured the water through the coffeepot, leaned against the counter, and watched her, a dark brow arched. “What is it, Tracy? Have you got Mom and Gramps stashed away somewhere? Should I expect another concussion?”

“No!” she retorted with a saccharine smile. “You can expect
me
to give you a concussion if you don’t get out of my suite!”

“Ah, that’s right. You are legal these days, aren’t you? You’re twenty-five years old. A quarter of a century. That’s a long, long time—and yet it’s not so long at all.”

“Leif—”

He moved across the room quickly. To her annoyance, she let out a little gasp as his arms stretched out and his fingers splayed across the wall on either side of her head. “Your father couldn’t even find you for a year!”

She ducked to crawl beneath his arm and escape him; he caught her chin and held it so that her eyes were locked with his.

“Leif! My God, it’s all ancient history—”

“Why weren’t you at the funeral?”

“Because it was a zoo and you know it!”

“Ah, yes, it was a zoo! But your entire cast of suspects was present. Your grandfather was there, your mother, and your stepfather. Jamie’s mother, Carol, was there, and Lauren—the second Mrs. Kuger, the grieving widow. And the surviving Limelights—Tiger, Sam, and me. And, of course, Jamie. Only Tracy was missing. Why weren’t you with your mother?”

“Leif—let me go,” Tracy breathed. She’d never felt so threatened, his palm upon her chin, his fingers long enough to crush her face, his eyes simmering with a brooding intensity that promised a torrential storm.

He sighed suddenly, releasing her, turning back to the shelves to find the elegant little hotel mugs.

“Black?” he asked her.

She was very surprised that he remembered. She nodded, and accepted the mug he handed her, gritting her teeth when she discovered his hand on her elbow, veering her quickly back to the salon, where she found herself seated at his side again.

“Tracy, you’re going to have to accept something if you really want to catch a killer.”

“And what’s that?”

“You may be looking to your own family.”

“And I may not!”

He shook his head at her, disgusted. “Tracy, you’re being blinded! Tracy, your grandfather hated Jesse. I can still remember everything that happened when he found out about that affair. He was brutal. He didn’t give the two of them a chance.”

Tracy found herself setting her cup down and flying to her feet. “And maybe he was right! Look at my father’s life! He went through women like he did shirts! He ignored me, then he ignored Jamie! He would have made a rotten, rotten husband—and my stepfather made a wonderful husband and parent!”

“I thought you loved your father.”

“I did! Damn you, you have no right to question that! I loved him very much—but I have never pretended that he didn’t have faults, and maybe my grandfather had a right to his feelings! Dad didn’t stay married to Carol,
and he probably wouldn’t have stayed married to Lauren—”

“Did it ever occur to you that Jesse loved your mother? That they might have made it—if they’d ever been given a chance?”

He voiced the question so softly. She wondered just what Leif knew and what he didn’t know. Almost everything, probably. He and Jesse were like brothers.

She sucked in her breath suddenly, wishing desperately that he were gone—that he had never reappeared. She had tried so hard. And surely, surely memory had become dim at times. She had loved him; she had hated him. He was here with her now, and though time had passed, he was still the same man. Still so attractive. Alluring in movement, in masculine grace, in the deep tone of his voice. Arrogant, confident—impatient.

“Sit down, Tracy.”

“I will not—”

“You will!”

And she did, tense, rigid, inflamed, because he stood up, placed his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her back down.

“Leif! You just said it—I’m a quarter of a century old now! I don’t have to tolerate this from you or anyone else.”

“Where did you go, Tracy?”

“What?” she said, faltering.

He was staring at her so intently—as if her answer were of extreme importance.

“Switzerland!” she snapped back.

Something strange came to his gaze; a further cover of smoke. He stared at her then, guarded, careful, and she discovered herself then the one at a loss.

“Leif! Would you quit this, please!” She begged. “Why
do you care! You married Celia. You settled down. You— you had a baby.”

He stood up and walked to the balcony and stared out into the night, not facing her. For a long moment he stayed there, back stiff, shoulders squared, hands upon his hips. Then he turned back to her, and the shields were in place. There was no telltale emotion of any kind to read from his hard-planed face.

“Tracy, tell me—have you got a plan?”

“Well, I—”

“You don’t, do you?” he queried softly.

“No! Do you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“And what is that?”