Misplaced (69 page)

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Authors: SL Hulen

BOOK: Misplaced
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Sighs
broke
the
silence.
The
urge
to
run
back
to
the
safety
of
her
tan
suit
gripped
her,
but
Celeste
rose,
teetered
to
w
ard
her,
and took her arm.

“Who
knew
you
had
it
in
you?
Y
ou
look
beautiful,
cookie,”
sh
e
remarked
,
an
d
the
n
looke
d
a
t
Lila
.
“Tha
t
dres
s
ne
v
e
r
fit
yo
u
lik
e
that
.
Doe
s
n

t
s
h
e
re
m
in
d
yo
u
o
f
tho
s
e
ol
d
M
exi
c
an
calendars?

Sh
e
searche
d
th
e
roo
m
a
s
i
f
sh
e
woul
d
con
v
eniently
fin
d
on
e
hangin
g
o
n
th
e
w
all
.

Y
o
u
coul
d
al
w
ay
s
fin
d
on
e
in
the
bar
at
the
P
laza
Del
Toros
.
What
a
bullring
that
w
as!
Those
calendars
al
w
ays
featured
a
beautiful
senorita
being
serenaded
by
some
fine-looking
mariachi
riding
a
horse.
Why,
you
could
be March. Or maybe July.”

“I

l
l
pu
t
thes
e
a
w
ay,

V
ictori
a
mumbled
,
he
r
cheeks
suddenly
w
arm.
She
gathered
up
the
pile
of
clothes,
mouthed
“than
k
you

t
o
Lila
,
pushe
d
ope
n
th
e
scree
n
door
,
an
d
w
ent
outside.

The
twilight
w
as
infused
with
the
sounds
of
birds
settling
themsel
v
es
for
the
night.
V
ictoria
w
alked
bet
w
een
the
lofty
box
elders
that
lined
the
path
to
the
cabin,
two
on
each
side.
Their
shadows
made
long,
defiant stripes
across
the
patio.
This
time
of
day
exaggerated
the
shades
of
green
in
what
Celeste
called
he
r
“shad
e
garden.

No
t
fa
r
a
w
ay
,
a
t
th
e
plac
e
wher
e
hostas
an
d
flo
w
er
s
threatene
d
t
o
o
v
ertak
e
th
e
forest
,
a
youn
g
deer
poke
d
it
s
hea
d
throug
h
th
e
brush
.
It
s
e
y
e
s
an
d
ear
s
twitched
nervousl
y
a
s
V
ictoria’
s
sof
t
footfall
s
alternate
d
bet
w
ee
n
the
grass
and
stepping
stones.
Half
w
ay,
she
stopped
to
put
on
the
purpl
e
s
w
eater
,
an
d
th
e
dee
r
v
anished
.
Somethin
g
moving
in
the
other
direction
caught
her
attention;
it
w
as
a
lone
male
turkey,
ambling
to
w
ard
the
pond
with
his
tail
feathers
trailing
in
the
high
grass.
He
stopped
to
look
at
V
ictoria,
deemed
her
of
no
importance,
and
turned
a
w
ay
as
if
disgusted
by
the
sight
of her.

Wher
e
w
a
s
Khara
,
any
w
ay
?
Sh
e
remembere
d
Celest
e
telling
her
that
no
one
had
been
able
to
coax
her
from
the
stable.
The
knotte
d
muscle
s
i
n
he
r
stomac
h
slo
w
l
y
bega
n
t
o
releas
e
until
sh
e
looke
d
a
t
he
r
w
atc
h
an
d
note
d
tha
t
Mieley’
s
t
w
enty-four
hour deadline had expired by a single minute.

 

 

Chapte
r
Twenty-nine
Miel
e
y

Swea
t
drippe
d
fro
m
Arla
n
Miele
y

s
b
ro
w
a
s
he
obser
v
e
d
th
e
rea
r
entranc
e
o
f
th
e
Cente
r
fo
r
Help
.
Minutes
ticked
by.
Earlier
in
the
day,
he

d
shown
a
fifth
of
vodka
to
a gaunt man with grey skin and insatiable e
y
es, promising him liquid treasure if he saw a woman matching
V
ictoria Barrón’s
d
e
sc
r
i
pti
o
n
e
nt
e
r
th
e
fro
n
t
o
f
bu
ild
i
n
g
.
He

d
p
rov
i
de
d
hi
s willing spy with the description of her mysterious companion
a
s
w
ell
,
althoug
h
h
e
kne
w
ther
e
w
a
s
fa
r
les
s
chanc
e
tha
t
she
would appear.

S
o
far
,
hi
s
lookou
t
hadn’
t
spotte
d
eithe
r
o
f
them
.
Miele
y
had
only half-expected her to show. In her position, he might
w
ell ha
v
e done the same thing.

Afte
r
h
e w
a
s
sur
e
tha
t
th
e
las
t
woma
n
ha
d
lef
t
the
building—th
e
sam
e
redhea
d
he

d
see
n
a
t
th
e
courthouse—he
dro
v
e
aroun
d
th
e
corner
.
Openin
g
th
e
door
,
h
e
tosse
d
th
e
bottle
into the drunk’s filthy
hands and sped a
w
ay.

Th
e
loo
k
i
n
V
ictoria’
s
e
y
e
s
ha
d
tol
d
hi
m
sh
e
woul
d
do
anything
to
keep
the
bracelet
from
him,
and
at
the
courthouse
sh
e
ha
d
bee
n
clear-heade
d
enoug
h
t
o
kno
w
sh
e
ha
d
the
ad
v
antage
.
Bu
t
h
e
ha
d
ad
v
antage
s
o
f
hi
s
own
;
cal
l
i
t
“six
degrees
of
separation.”
W
ithout
giving
so
much
as
an
inkling
o
f
hi
s
presence
,
h
e
ha
d
existe
d
o
n
th
e
peripher
y
o
f
V
ictoria
Barrón’
s
lif
e
fo
r
som
e
time
.
H
e
recalle
d
e
v
er
y
tim
e
Elia
s
had
mentione
d
her—he
r
work
,
he
r
home
,
he
r
causes—an
d
kne
w
he
ha
d
th
e
mean
s
t
o
fin
d
her
.
Hi
s
lif
e
ha
d
taugh
t
hi
m
nothin
g
i
f
not
patience. His intellect would triumph o
v
er her stubbornness.

Obtaining the last bracelet
w
as going to take longer than he
thought.
Ne
v
ertheless,
the
thought
of
his
quarry
inflamed
him.
Recalling
the
graceful
neck,
the
s
w
ell
of
her
breasts,
and
angry
e
y
es, Mieley’s blood ran hot and his imagination wild.

H
e
ra
n
a
f
inge
r
alon
g
th
e
shado
w
beneat
h
he
r
collarbon
e
and
explore
d
th
e
indentatio
n
a
t
th
e
bas
e
o
f
he
r
throat
,
strokin
g
gentl
y
until
sh
e
close
d
he
r
e
y
es
.
He
r
bac
k
arche
d
an
d
sh
e
shuddere
d
e
v
e
r
s
o
slightly.
Then
he
kissed
her
slo
w
ly
but
relentlessly.
Later,
she
awoke
from
her
bliss
and
smiled
at
him
with
soft
e
y
es.
They
shared
a
pot
of
tea,
and
then spent the afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum of
Art.
H
e
sho
w
e
d
he
r
onl
y
th
e
choices
t
pieces
,
an
d
instantl
y
the
y
became
her
favorites
as
w
ell.
In
time,
he
came
to
know
the
deeper
meaning
of
her
small
smile.
V
ictoria
mar
v
eled
at
all
New
Y
ork
had
to
offer,
and
ne
v
er
regretted
leaving
her
miserable
cow-town.
When
they
had
come
to
know one another, she admitted
that
no one had e
v
er tantalized
her
mind
the
w
ay
he
had,
had
e
v
er
made
her
fingers
and
toes
curl
during
sex.

To
o
often
,
photo
s
o
f
th
e
tw
o
o
f
the
m
appeare
d
i
n
th
e
societ
y
column.
Heiresses
and
stockbrokers
commented
on
what
an
amazing
couple
they
w
ere,
how
w
ell
she
had
pulled
off
the
plunging
neckline
of
the orchid chiffon
e
v
ening gown…

The
tantalizing
mirage
faded
into
the
taillights
of
a
tractor
trailer
.
Miele
y
brake
d
hard
.
H
e
exite
d
th
e
interstate
,
cursing
,
his
ner
v
es frazzled.

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