LISA BARING LOOKED INTENTLY AT THE man sitting opposite her. The last time she’d seen Inspector Liu was in her hospital room at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. On that occasion she’d paid little attention to him, a grave mistake, as it turned out. She remembered Liu only as short, physically nondescript and deferential. Despite his frustration about her refusing police protection, he had treated her with the respect due to a patient, a rape victim, and the widow of an important and powerful man.
Today, he looked different. Transformed. As he sat behind a Formica-topped desk in this plain white interview suite in Hong Kong’s Central District, his round face, glossy black hair and small, neatly manicured hands remained the same as she remembered, as did his cheap suit and thin polyester tie. But his manner had changed utterly. His formerly placid features seemed suddenly to have come alive, his mouth animated, his eyes glinting with something that Lisa couldn’t quite place. Excitement? Cruelty? His body language was aggressive, legs apart, hands spread wide on the table, torso and head thrust forward. He thinks he’s in control, and he likes it.
“I’ll ask you again, Mrs. Baring. How long have you and the man you were arrested with this morning been lovers?”
“And I’ll answer you again, Inspector. His name is Matthew Daley. And it’s none of your goddamn business.”
She knew she was provoking him, probably not the smartest thing to do under the circumstances, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. He was so arrogant, so rude. And the things he was suggesting about Matt were just preposterous.
It was strange how confident she felt, under the circumstances. When she’d awoken this morning in her bedroom at Mirage to find six men training guns on her head, the flashbacks to Miles’s murder were so strong she honestly thought she would pass out. If Matt hadn’t been there to calm her down, she probably would have. Darling Matt. How could anyone think he was mixed up in any of this? She wondered where he was now, and prayed he wasn’t being mistreated. She’d had no time to process what had happened between them last night, what with being frog-marched onto a plane, bundled into a squad car and dumped unceremoniously into this bleak interview room in a squat building in Central with the obnoxious Inspector Liu firing questions at her like poison darts.
Closing her eyes, Lisa could feel Matt Daley’s hard, passionate body pressed against hers. The rush of desire was so strong, she blushed. But it was mingled with other emotions. Fear. Guilt. It was so hard to untangle anything of what she was feeling with the awful Liu breathing down her neck. Still, she was not as afraid as she thought she would be.
Because I’m not alone anymore. I have Matt now. Matt will save me.
The door opened.
“Lisa, darling. I got here as fast as I could.”
Not Matt Daley, but a salvation of sorts. John Crowley, Lisa’s attorney, was the managing partner at Crowley & Rowe, one of Hong Kong’s leading law firms. In his midfifties, tall, dark and distinguished-looking, John Crowley positively radiated authority. He wore monogrammed cuff links and a bespoke suit that cost more than Inspector Liu earned in a year, and smelled of Floris aftershave and self-assurance. Lisa noticed the way Liu visibly shrank in his presence.
“John! How did you know where to find me? They wouldn’t let me call.”
“I know,” said Crowley, taking a seat without being asked. “Just one of Inspector Liu’s many breaches of protocol. I was contacted by a friend of yours, a Mr. Daley.”
Lisa’s eyes widened. “They’ve released Matt already?”
“Naturally. Once he produced his passport, it became clear he wasn’t even in the country on the night of Miles’s murder. Any suggestion of his involvement is pure fantasy. As is any suggestion of yours.” John Crowley looked at his vintage Cartier watch impatiently. “Inspector Liu, on what grounds are you detaining my client?”
“We have the necessary authority.” Liu handed over a stack of papers, apparently warrants, all in Chinese. John Crowley glanced at them as if he were contemplating using them to blow his nose, then tossed them imperiously aside.
“Has Mrs. Baring been charged?”
“Not yet. She’s here to answer some questions. There are discrepancies, serious discrepancies, between Mrs. Baring’s account of what happened on the night in question and her staff’s.”
John Crowley turned to Lisa. “When were you arrested? What time?”
“This morning. Around ten o’clock, I think. I’m not sure, I was asleep when they broke in.”
Crowley looked again at his watch. “That was nine hours ago. Which means that Inspector Liu has a maximum of three additional hours in which to finish his questions. If he doesn’t charge you by then, you’re free to go.”
Inspector Liu glowered at the lawyer. He suspected that Danny McGuire from Interpol was involved in this somehow. That instead of returning his, Liu’s, call, McGuire had taken matters into his own hands and contacted the U.S. embassy, preferring to deal with expats than with the local Chinese police. Interpol was supposed to be impartial, but McGuire, Crowley, Lisa Baring, and Matt Daley were all American. Americans had a way of sticking together.
“As you rightly say, Mr. Crowley, time is limited. So I’d appreciate it if you stopped wasting it. Mrs. Baring…” Liu turned on Lisa. “At the Queen Elizabeth Hospital you told me that your husband had no living relatives that you knew of that we needed to contact. In fact, as you well knew, Miles Baring had a daughter by his first marriage. Alice.”
“That’s true. But Miles had no contact with her, nor she with him. After his divorce his ex-wife moved back to Europe and he lost all contact with her and the child.”
“A man of your husband’s means could easily have taken steps to trace them, or could have instructed his estate to do so after his death. Indeed, Mr. Baring had made such arrangements, had he not, before he met you?”
“I…I’ve no idea,” Lisa stammered.
“It was you who convinced him not only to marry you but to leave his entire fortune to you upon his death. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Baring?”
Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but John Crowley stepped in. “She’s already told you, she knew nothing of the provisions in Miles’s will before he met her. It’s not unusual for men to change their wills in favor of their wives after marriage.”
“What is unusual, Mr. Crowley, is for bereaved widows to lie repeatedly to the police who are attempting to apprehend their husband’s killer,” Liu shot back. “Mrs. Baring, you made a sworn statement that you did not know how to disable the security system at Prospect Road. Yet your maid, Joyce Chan, asserts that Mr. Baring explained it to you on numerous occasions.”
“I…he might have tried. I’m not very good with technical things.”
“Why did you instruct the servants not to enter the upper floors of the property the night your husband was killed.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Was it so that you could admit your lover?”
“No!”
“Do you deny you had a lover?”
“Yes, I deny it. Of course I deny it.”
John Crowley did his best to deflect and obstruct, but Liu kept hammering away, insisting that this lover existed, that Lisa had helped him into the house, and demanding over and over again to know his name. Were there so many that she couldn’t remember? How many men had she slept with before Miles? And during the marriage? How many men had she slept with since Miles’s death, when she was supposedly grieving? Or was Matthew Daley the only one? How did she know Mr. Daley? She must have invited him to join her in Bali, which implies she knew him from before.
By the time the three hours were up and Inspector Liu released her, on condition that she not leave the island and “cooperate fully” with his investigation, Lisa was emotionally and physically exhausted. But she’d managed not to tell Liu anything about Matt’s past. At the end of the day, Matt was a victim too. If he wanted to talk about his father’s murder, or his interest in the other crimes, that was up to him.
John Crowley took Lisa’s arm as they left the building. The poor thing was still shaking. “You did very well. Try not to worry about it too much. I highly doubt they’re going to charge you with anything.”
Lisa shook her head. “He looked at me with such hatred. Like I wanted this to happen. Like I wanted Miles to die. I didn’t want any of this. It just happened. Maybe it had to happen, I don’t know. But there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
John Crowley looked at her strangely. It seemed a bizarre choice of words, to say the least. Why on earth would Miles’s murder have “had to happen”? Then again, after the grilling Liu had just put Lisa through, perhaps it was a miracle she could string a sentence together at all.
“You must rest. Can I drive you home?”
Lisa looked at him blankly. Home? Where was that? Certainly not the house on Prospect Road. “You said Matt Daley was the one who called you about me. Do you know where he is staying?”
“I’m right here.”
Matt’s sweet, tired, good-natured face emerged from the sea of Asian faces still crowding the sidewalks even at this time of night. Lisa didn’t think she’d ever been so happy to see another person in her life. She fell into his arms.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, hugging her tightly. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. I’m fine.” She kissed him, making no attempt to hide her affection in front of John Crowley. The lawyer suppressed an irrational wave of jealousy. He didn’t have many clients as attractive as Mrs. Baring, and he’d enjoyed playing her white knight this afternoon.
Matt said, “You must be Mr. Crowley. Thanks for showing up so quickly.”
“Not at all. Thank you for contacting me.” The two men shook hands. “Everything went well today. I think Liu’s grasping at straws. But make sure you don’t hand him any ammunition,” he added to Lisa. “Stay in Hong Kong, lay low and keep in touch. If the police contact you again, let me know immediately.”
“Of course.”
Matt watched John Crowley jump into a cab. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “He’s damn good-looking for a lawyer.”
Lisa laughed. Wrapping her arms around Matt’s neck, she pressed her lips lightly to his. “Are you jealous?”
“Horribly.”
They kissed again, and Lisa marveled at how happy she felt, how safe. She’d experienced more than her fair share of male jealousy in the past, and up till now that had only meant pain. But with Matt Daley it was different. Safe in Matt’s arms, she could look back and see that most of her life had been spent under a dark cloud of fear, waiting for a man’s jealousy to explode in rage and violence, waiting to be hurt. She’d accepted it because it was all she knew. And because of the secret, the secret that had destroyed not only her life but the lives of so many others. The secret to which only one man had the key, and that Matt must never, ever know.
Matt took her face in his hands. “You look so troubled. Is it Inspector Liu?”
“Yes,” she lied. “He’s out to get me.”
“Well, he won’t succeed,” Matt assured her. “Not while I’m around. Listen, Lisa, I know it’s not really the time. And I know last night was unexpected, for both of us. But I have to tell you. I’ve never felt like this before. I—”
Lisa put a finger to his lips. “Not here. Liu and his men will probably coming scuttling out of that door any moment.”
She was right. A busy street outside of a police station was no place to declare his undying love. Matt stretched out his arm. A cab stopped instantly.
“The Peninsula.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. The Peninsula was the grandest hotel in Hong Kong. They could afford it, now that the authorities had unfrozen Miles’s accounts and allowed Lisa access to his money. But it was hardly lying low.
“I figured if we’re going to be kept here under virtual house arrest, we might as well make our cage a gilded one,” said Matt. “I want you to be happy.”
Lisa knew all about gilded cages. “I’ll be happy anywhere,” she told him truthfully, “as long as I’m with you.”
If only I could stay with him forever.
If only I could tell him the truth.
But she knew she never would.
THEIR SUITE WAS GENEROUS. THERE WAS a small, exquisitely furnished living room and two full-size marble baths adjoining a grand double bedroom with spectacular harbor views. After a hot shower and a room-service club sandwich, Lisa felt revived enough to talk to Matt about her interview with Inspector Liu.
“He had new information. He must have spoken to Joyce Chan. Frightened her into speaking out.”
“Who’s Joyce Chan?”
“Our housekeeper at Prospect Road. She’s the only one who could have put the idea into Liu’s head that I was having an affair.”
So that’s where the rumor started, thought Matt, remembering his heated conversation with Danny McGuire. Malicious servant’s gossip.
“Spiteful bitch.”
“Oh no!” Lisa looked horrified. “No, no, Mrs. Chan’s lovely. She would never knowingly try to hurt me.”
“Then why on earth would she say such a thing?”
“Because she was frightened,” said Lisa. “And because it’s true.”
“I HAVEN’T BEEN FULLY HONEST WITH you.”
It was twenty minutes later and the two of them were in bed. Naked, wrapped in each other’s arms…it felt like the right time to share confidences.
“I wanted to. But I didn’t know where to start.”
“That’s okay.” Matt stroked her hair soothingly. The truth was, he hadn’t been fully honest with Lisa either. She still knew nothing about his connection with Interpol and Danny McGuire. All this time she’d been sharing her home, and now her bed, with a police mole. If that wasn’t a betrayal, he didn’t know what was.
Nervously, stumbling over her words, Lisa told Matt about the affair. There had only been one lover, not a string of them, as McGuire had implied. She’d denied the relationship to the police in order to protect the young man involved. She had never loved him, nor he her, but he’d helped alleviate the loneliness of her marriage to Miles.
“When Miles and I dated, we were intimate. It wasn’t the most passionate relationship in the world—Miles was a lot older—but we did make love. But after we married, things changed. Miles was kind to me and affectionate. But he put me on a pedestal in his mind. As if I were this pure, untouchable thing. Relations between us were…rare.”
For a second, Matt felt an affinity with Miles Baring. Lisa was incredibly desirable. Yet at the same time she was so perfect, so good, he understood the urge to cast her as a Madonna, something to be worshipped rather than defiled.
“It was a sex thing, then. Between you and this man?”
Lisa blushed and looked away. “Do you hate me?”
Matt pulled her close, breathing in the warm scent of her. “I could never hate you. You’re everything to me.”
Lisa looked pained. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true. You know it’s true. I think I might hate him, but that’s a different matter. And I certainly don’t think you should be protecting him at your own expense.”
“I have to protect him,” said Lisa.
“Why?”
“Because. It’s my duty. We promised not to reveal each other’s identity.”
“Yeah, but that was before Miles was murdered and you were raped. That kind of changes things, don’t you think? Liu obviously suspects he was involved.”
Lisa shook her head in silent misery. “Nothing changes a promise. Breaking a vow is wrong. It’s wrong.” She rolled away from him to the other side of the bed.
“How well do you know this guy?” asked Matt, his blood running cold. What if Inspector Liu and Danny were right? Not about Lisa being an accomplice to the murder of her husband—that was ridiculous—but about her lover being the killer? He clearly still had some sort of hold over her.
Lisa answered with her face to the wall. “How well does anybody know anyone?” More riddles. “How well do you and I know each other, if it comes to that?”
The echoes of Danny McGuire’s words were uncomfortable. Had that conversation really only been last night? It felt like a lifetime ago.
“Tell me his name, Lisa.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Matt said bitterly, “You don’t trust me.”
Lisa turned back around, propping herself up on her elbow, her magnificent breasts tumbling onto the Frette sheets between them. “I do trust you, Matt,” she said indignantly. “You have no idea what a big deal that is for me. At least I’m being honest, which is more than I can say for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“That phone call last night. You brushed it off when I asked you about it. But it wasn’t just a ‘misunderstanding with a friend,’ was it? It was about me.”
Matt sighed. “Okay. Yes, it was.” After all this time it was a relief to admit it. He told her about Danny McGuire, how he’d worked on the original investigation into Andrew Jakes’s homicide and since moved to Interpol, but how Matt had tracked him down and told him about the other murders, of Didier Anjou and Piers Henley.
“The other widows all disappeared, as you know, but you were still safe, at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. I flew out here to find out what I could and report back to McGuire.”
The blood drained from Lisa’s face.
“And did you? ‘Report back,’ I mean? Oh my God. Is that why you slept with me? To try to get more information out of me, to get me to open up?”
“No!” Matt shook his head vehemently. “That’s why I came out here, but once I met you, everything changed. I haven’t contacted McGuire once, I swear. That was part of the reason he was pissed at me last night on the phone. I disappeared on him.”
Lisa drew her knees up to her chest, the sheet wrapped defensively around her. She thought about what Matt had said. Eventually she asked him, “What was the other part? You said that was ‘part of the reason’ he was pissed. What was the other part?”
Matt swallowed. In for a penny, in for a pound. He might as well tell her now.
“He’d spoken to Liu. He told me you were cheating on Miles and that he thought you might have been an accessory to his murder.”
Lisa gasped.
“I know, I know. I told him he was blowing smoke out of his ass, that you had nothing to do with it. But he wanted me to leave you, to get out of Mirage and come home. Liu had pictures of you and me together. He’d put two and two together and made about a thousand. I think Danny was worried that if I got arrested it would come out that he and I were working together. The folks at Interpol aren’t too thrilled about having amateurs meddling in their cases. Danny might have gotten in trouble, or at the very least been pulled off the case.”
“So you knew I was cheating on Miles,” said Lisa. “You knew and it didn’t bother you?”
“I didn’t know. McGuire told me you were, but I didn’t believe him. It didn’t jibe with the Lisa I know.”
The Lisa you know! It was so poignant, so pathetic in a way, Lisa didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Matt said, “I love you so much. I don’t care what happened before you and I met.”
“You should, Matt. The past—”
“—is gone. You know, last night Danny McGuire asked me the same question you just did: How well do I really know you? How well do you really know me? And you know what the answer is?”
“What?”
“The answer is, we know what we need to know. We know we love each other. That’s enough.”
Lisa stroked his cheek tenderly. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Yes. I do.”
“But what if someone’s past is a nightmare. What if it’s worse than you can possibly imagine? What if it’s unforgivable?”
“Nothing’s unforgivable.” Matt reached for her. “I’m not in love with your past, Lisa. I’m in love with you.”
Their lovemaking was more restrained than it had been the previous night. Less explosive, but closer, more tender. If Matt had had any doubts about Lisa’s feelings, they evaporated at the touch of her hand, the caress of her lips on his skin, his hair, the soft, lulling cadence of her voice. I love you, Matt. I love you.
Afterward Matt called room service and ordered two whiskeys. It was very late, past one, but both of their minds were racing.
Matt spoke first. “Let’s run away together.”
Lisa laughed. She adored Matt’s sense of humor. She’d laughed more since meeting him than at any time she could remember, despite the desperate circumstances.
“I’m serious. Let’s take off.”
“We can’t,” said Lisa, putting a finger to Matt’s lips.
“Sure we can. We can do whatever we want.”
“Shhh.” Lisa snuggled into him, her heavy eyes at last beginning to close.
“I’m serious,” said Matt.
“So am I. Now go to sleep.”
BY THE TIME LISA OPENED HER eyes, Matt was already at the desk, hammering away at his laptop. He’d had the forethought to have Mrs. Harcourt send over both his and Lisa’s computers from Bali in the Barings’ private plane, along with a small case of clothes and other essentials. They’d arrived at the Peninsula overnight.
Lisa watched him work, naked except for a small white towel knotted at his waist. He’s so beautiful, she thought with a pang. Not model handsome like some of the men she’d known over the years, but sexy in his own warm, loving, quirky way. She allowed herself a moment’s fantasy: she and Matt, married, happy, living far away from Hong Kong, far away from the rest of the world. Safe. Free. Together.
Catching her staring, Matt looked up and smiled. “Breakfast?”
Lisa grinned. “Sure. I’m starving.”
They ordered fresh fruit salad and croissants with hot coffee and a side of crispy bacon for Matt. Lisa ate hers in bed, but Matt remained glued to the screen.
“What are you doing?” she asked him eventually, spooning the last of the honey onto her third croissant and biting into it greedily.
“I told you last night,” said Matt. “Planning our escape.”
“And I told you last night,” said Lisa. “We can’t just disappear together. Inspector Liu only released me from custody on condition that I stay in Hong Kong. Remember what John Crowley said last night? Don’t give him any ammunition. It’s vital that we play things by the book.”
Matt closed his computer. “Screw John Crowley.”
“Matt, come on. The jealous boyfriend shtick’s cute and all, but this is serious.”
“I know it is. Lisa, the Chinese police are trying to frame you for Miles’s murder. They’ve already got Interpol buying into their theory, that you and your mystery boyfriend staged the whole thing. Just because Liu hasn’t charged you yet doesn’t mean he’s not going to.”
“But he’s got no evidence.”
“Sure he has evidence. It’s circumstantial, and it’s bullshit, but convictions have been built on less, believe me. If you continue to refuse to name this other guy—”
“We’ve been through that.” Lisa sounded exasperated.
“I know. I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m simply stating the fact that they don’t have him, but they do have you. And a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Liu knows that the American, British and French police were all left with a fistful of feathers. He won’t let you go till he’s made something stick.”
Lisa hesitated. It wasn’t that the idea of running away with Matt Daley wasn’t appealing. It was wonderful, a fantasy, a dream. But it couldn’t be done. Could it?
“Every day we stay here, we’re like sitting ducks,” said Matt. “Either for Liu or for the killer, whoever he is. Is that what you want?”
No. You’re right. It’s not what I want. But my life isn’t about what I want. It’s about what I have to do. My duty. My destiny.
“If I run, I’ll look guilty.”
“You look guilty now, angel. I’m afraid that’s part of the problem. The tabloids already hate you.”
“Thanks a lot!” Lisa tried to make light of it, but the laugh caught in her throat. Matt walked over to the bed and kissed her.
“I’m just being realistic.”
“I know you are.” Lisa pushed aside her breakfast. She wasn’t hungry anymore. “So what do we do? Theoretically, I mean, in this grand escape plan of yours. Where would we go?”
Grabbing his laptop from the desk, Matt brought it over to the bed. He clicked open a map of the world.
“You tell me.”
He wanted to pick somewhere special, someplace that Lisa had happy memories of. But he realized when he woke up this morning that he still knew next to nothing about Lisa’s life before she met Miles. She was American, raised in New York. Her parents were both dead and she had no family, save for one estranged sister. She was obviously well traveled. Her conversation was peppered with references to Europe and North Africa. And at some point she’d taken a job in Asia, where she’d met Miles. But that was it. If she had roots anywhere, Matt didn’t know about them.
“Where do you think you’d be happy?”
Where would I be happy? I’ve been to so many wonderful places. Rome, Paris, London, New York. I’ve soaked up the sun on a Malibu beach and swum in the Mediterranean off the Italian Riviera. But have I ever truly been happy?
“Anywhere significant. Anywhere that means somewhere to you…outside of the States, obviously. I don’t think it’d be the smartest move for either of us to go back there.”
Lisa stared at the map, her mind a blank. Then suddenly the answer came to her, as blindingly obvious as the nose on her face. She stroked the screen lovingly with her finger.
“Morocco. I’d like to go to Morocco.”