Truth or Dare (16 page)

There was a long silence.

“Do you think my dad would be proud of me?” Jeff asked after a while.

“Oh, yeah. No doubt about it.”

“Do you have some questions you wish you could ask your dad?” Jeff asked.

“Sure.”

“Why don't you ask him?”

“Same reason you won't be able to ask your dad. He's dead.”

“Oh.” Jeff nudged some pebbles with the toe of his sneaker. “What did he do?”

Singleton gripped the edge of the fountain on either side. “He was a Marine Corps officer. Everyone said he was real smart and very brave.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was killed in a military action a month before I was born.”

Jeff was stricken. “He never ever
saw
you? Not once?”

“No.”

“And you never saw him,” Jeff whispered.

“All I've got are some pictures.”

“But you still remember him?”

“I can't ever forget him,” Singleton said simply. “He was my dad.”

Jeff thought for a while. “You're a lot like him, aren't you?”

Singleton felt as if he had just slammed headfirst into a stone wall. All of his life he had been painfully aware of the fact that he had not turned out anything like his father. He was no dashing military hero, just the opposite. He had chosen the life of a contemplative loner, content with his computer and his rare books.

“I don't think so,” he said.

“Yeah, you are,” Jeff insisted. “You're real smart and you're brave, just like your dad. You saved Zoe that time when those two guys attacked her, and you're so brainy that Mom says you once worked at some kind of special place where they invent secret codes for computers.”

“A think tank,” Singleton said absently, still struggling to deal with the shattering concept that had been introduced into the conversation.

“Yeah, a think tank.” Jeff seemed oddly satisfied now. “Your dad would have been real proud of you if he could see you now.”

And to think that he'd come out here to try to figure out what was bugging the kid and maybe make him feel better. That was one of the really interesting things about life. You never knew what you were going to learn next.

“Thanks.” He got to his feet. “You wanna go get those sodas now?”

“Sure.”

21

G
allery Euphoria was located in an exclusive corner of Fountain Square. The entrance was accented with an array of artistically arranged pots filled with lush, green plants. The front windows of the shop displayed a variety of handcrafted jewelry and objets d'art created by local and regional artists. There was an unmistakably sophisticated air about the place, Zoe thought, just as there was about the owner.

A tiny bell chimed discreetly when she pushed open the glass door. Arcadia, cool and elegant-looking in a blouse and trousers the color of lime sorbet, was busy with a customer. The woman on the other side of the counter just had to be a tourist, Zoe decided. The big clue was the red knit polo shirt embroidered with the words
Las Estrellas Resort and Spa
.

Arcadia caught Zoe's attention, nodded slightly in
acknowledgment of her arrival and went back to showing the vacationer a selection of silver bracelets.

Zoe idly examined a new series of small bronzes crafted in the shapes of various desert creatures. There was a tortoise, a roadrunner and a coyote. She started to reach for the whimsical-looking roadrunner, thinking that it might appeal to Ethan. Her hand paused in midair when she noticed the turquoise necklace in the next case.

Turning her back on the bronzes, she went to stand looking down at the display of jewelry arranged on black velvet. The designs were familiar. The artist was the same one who had created the distinctive necklace that Lindsey Voyle had worn the other day.

The bell over the door chimed again when Arcadia's customer left a short time later.

Arcadia closed and locked the case. “See something you like over there?”

Zoe hesitated. “Lindsey Voyle has a necklace made by this artist.”

“I know. She was in here again yesterday looking at some more of his work. She's already got a bracelet on order. It's due in any day now.”

“How well do you know her?”

“Lindsey? All I can tell you is that she has very good taste in jewelry. If you're in the market for background information on her you'd better try Ethan. He's the expert when it comes to that kind of thing.”

“I know. I was just curious about her, that's all.” Asking Ethan was actually a very good idea. The problem was that Ethan would ask her why she wanted him to run the background check
on Lindsey and she did not want to try to explain those ghastly spiderwebs in the library. He was remarkably indulgent about her claim to a sixth sense, but if she tried to describe whatever it was she had encountered in the Designers' Dream Home, he might start to wonder.

Why not? She had a few uneasy questions about the source of those vibes herself, questions she did not want to confront too closely. Her research had not yet turned up any reassuring answers.

Arcadia studied her with a considering expression.

“Is there anything wrong, Zoe?”

Act normal
. She did not want her best friend probing too deeply, either.

“No.” She managed a rueful smile. “I'm just a little stressed out, that's all. I have been for the past couple of weeks. I came by to see if by any chance I left a packet of photos in your office last week. I remember having them in my green tote when I showed them to you but now I can't find them.”

“They're here. You left them on top of the file cabinet. I meant to tell you.”

“Good. Honestly, what with the show house project and trying to come up with a dazzling proposal for the Tabitha Pine project, I'm getting a little fractured.”

“You're not the only one who is misplacing things lately.” Arcadia ducked into her small office. “I can't find that little Elvis pen that Harry gave me,” she called from the other room. “I've looked everywhere for it.”

The glass door opened. A living skeleton ambled into the gallery.

“Hi, Harry,” Zoe greeted him. “You're back early. What happened?”

“The client decided that his daughter had done enough shopping,” Harry said. “Sent one of his regular security people to pick her up and take her back to Texas. She was not a happy camper but I sure was glad to see her go. I don't care if I ever see the inside of another shoe store as long as I live.”

“Harry.”
Arcadia appeared in the doorway of her office. “You're home.”

Harry smiled his jack-o'-lantern smile. “Yeah. How about that?”

Arcadia was practically glowing. Zoe was amazed. Who would have thought that the aloof Arcadia Ames would ever fall in love like this?

Arcadia dropped her purse beside the cash register, walked quickly around the end of the counter and went straight into Harry's arms. He wrapped her close in his bony grip.

The aura of intimacy that surrounded the pair made Zoe feel very good. She and Arcadia had been through a lot together, but she had never seen her friend genuinely happy until Harry Stagg had come into her life a few weeks ago.

The phone rang in the small office. Arcadia reluctantly raised her head from Harry's shoulder.

“I'll get it,” Zoe said quickly. “I'll grab my photos while I'm at it.”

“Thanks,” Arcadia replied. “Tell whoever it is that I'll be out for the rest of the day. My assistant, Molly, will be back from lunch soon. She'll take over.”

Harry chuckled.

“Got it,” Zoe said.

She slipped around the counter, stepped into the small, neat office and blundered straight into the sticky strands of an invisible spiderweb.

The shock robbed her of breath. Something deep inside her screamed silently.

No, not here. It isn't possible
.

She grabbed the back of the desk chair to keep from falling to her knees. If she'd been able to inhale she probably would have called out. But in that moment of horrified awareness, she could not even breathe.

One coherent thought surfaced. This was the same kind of psychic energy she had encountered in the library.

The gossamer threads clung lightly to her sixth sense, not just clouding her perceptions but subtly twisting and warping them. The memory of her most recent nightmare crashed through her, electrifying every nerve in her body. Panic rose in her throat. What was happening to her?

The phone rang again. The demanding warble sliced through the murky atmosphere. She focused on the sound as though it were a lifeline, concentrating her attention on it while frantically trying to tune out the disturbing psychic energy drifting through the small office.

She succeeded, at least to a point, and started to breathe again. The light-headed sensation receded.

The phone rang a third time and she managed to grab the receiver.

“Gallery Euphoria.” She realized she sounded breathless.

“Zoe? Is that you?”

She went limp with relief. Ethan's strong, resonant voice was an anchor in the storm. She seized it and hung on for dear life.

“I'm answering Arcadia's phone for her.” Okay, that was better. Her voice was back under control. “She's out in the showroom with Harry.”

“I thought Stagg wasn't due back until tomorrow or the next day.”

“Evidently the young lady he was supposed to be guarding spent too much time on Rodeo Drive and not enough touring college campuses. Daddy lost his patience.” She paused as a thought struck her. “Why are you calling here?”

“Looking for you. You didn't answer your phone.”

“I didn't hear it.” Baffled, she swung her tote off her shoulder, plopped it on the desk and opened it with her free hand. She peered into the depth. The little phone was right where it was supposed to be, sitting in the special pocket on the inside of the bag. The screen was blank. “Uh-oh.”

“Leave it at the apartment?”

“No, it's here.” She reached into the tote and picked up the phone. “I forgot to turn it on this morning. Guess I got distracted by the stupid notice that Pixie Ears left under my windshield wiper.”

“Duncan struck again?”

“I guess I parked in the wrong place last night. You were parked right next to me. Did she leave a note on your windshield?”

“Now why would she do that? I'm a guest and I was properly parked in a guest slot.”

She knew he was grinning. “I don't think that was why she
didn't tag you. I think she leaves you alone because you intimidate her.”

“Nah. The thing is, see, you're the one whose name is on the lease so she's focusing her attention on you.”

“That woman is going to drive me crazy.”

Drive me crazy
. Cold fingers touched her spine. Her control started to slip. She felt the spiderweb drift past her senses once more.

She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to refocus. The ghostly threads floated back to the edge of her awareness. She concentrated hard on the curtain-veiled opening that led to Arcadia's back room, steadying herself.

“You can handle Pixie Ears,” Ethan said easily. “I've got complete confidence in you. Look, I'm calling to tell you that I'm going to drive out to the Kirwan House to take a look around. I thought that if you didn't have a client appointment this afternoon, you might want to come with me.”

“Yes.” Anything would be better than sitting alone in her office for the rest of the day, worrying. “I'd like that. I'm going back to my office now.”

“I'll pick you up there.”

She put down the phone, seized the red tote and fled the cobwebs of dark energy.

“Got to meet Ethan,” she said to Arcadia and Harry as she hurried toward the front door. “See you later.”

Neither of them paid any attention to her. They were too busy looking at each other.

Outside in the warmth of the desert sun it was easier to think.

Halfway back to her office she finally calmed down
sufficiently to contemplate the similarities between her two encounters with the spiderwebs.

There was one undeniable fact that both incidents had in common, she thought. At some point in the past few days, Lindsey Voyle had been in the vicinity of both places where the nasty stuff now lingered.