Aletheia looked out the open dormer window down the ridgeline of the gable roof. A light breeze flitting through the window made her concede Aunt Rosa had probably chosen the most bearable spot in Deer Creek in which to settle for a hot summer afternoon. Indeed, the silver lining in the situation was that Rosa hadn't decided to let herself into Jim Blodger's backyard again and install herself beside his swimming pool.
Instead, she looked perfectly happy lounging in the deck chair and sipping her iced tea.
At least Aletheia hoped it was iced tea. When Aunt Rosa broke into the liquor cabinet things got even crazier than otherwise.
"Is there anything I can do?" Aletheia's father hovered in the room behind her, obviously wanting to be helpful.
Aletheia closed her eyes briefly. Her dad was the absent-minded professor. You didn't expect anything from him. She couldn't even have expected him to tell her about the ill-advised loan he'd taken out on the house two years ago and then allowed to lapse—without warning her. Probably without remembering he'd done it.
Opening her eyes again, Aletheia smiled slightly. Poor guy had thought he was being helpful. Now they were all in trouble. "No, Dad. Thanks, anyway."
It was time to think about the situation at hand. On the plus side, she wasn't alone. Parker and Felix Roman were on the balconies to either side of the gable roof. Aletheia couldn't see them from her position, but she was certain they were there.
Yes, oddly, she was sure the stranger was standing as he'd promised on the balcony below the gable roof.
It felt very peculiar to be depending on him. Perhaps most disturbing of all was her sense she could depend on him. He wouldn't duck if Rosa fell toward him. He'd stood up to Jim Blodger, hadn't he, and even made Jim leave the café? There was something in his eyes, something that said he would do whatever he said he would, no matter what it took.
That something gave her a dizzy turn in her stomach, not unlike the dizziness she felt right now glancing three stories down.
Taking in a fortifying breath, Aletheia looked back up, toward the old lady on the roof. As she put one knee on the windowsill, she tried to imagine what might be interesting enough to lure a celebrity socialite off the beach in Monaco. "Oh, Miss Rosa?"
Aunt Rosa lifted her head. Good. She was listening.
"It's the prince," Aletheia called out the window. "He's here to see you."
"The prince?" Rosa turned her head slightly. "No... I'm out of sorts with the prince." She tipped some ash off her cigarette. "The last time I saw him he was definitely not a gentleman."
A laugh choked out of Aletheia. Aunt Rosa certainly did have an imagination. "Oh, but... He's come all this way. Can't you forgive him?"
Aunt Rosa took a sip of what Aletheia still hoped was iced tea. "Nope."
Add stubborn to imaginative, Aletheia thought. Jeez. It wasn't as if she had a lot of experience with celebrity socialites to know where to go from here. "How about the Queen of England?"
Aunt Rosa waved a hand. "Bo-ring."
For the love of— Aletheia turned back toward the room, searching for inspiration. It was one of the third-floor bedrooms and hadn't been used in years. Next to Aletheia's dithering father stood a dusty desk.
"Ah ha!" Aletheia lunged toward the desk and grabbed the old, dial telephone moldering on top of it. "Miss Rosa?" She raced toward the window again. "The telephone is for you. The line in the, uh, lobby."
Aunt Rosa gave another dismissive wave. "Can't you see I'm not taking calls today?"
The old lady was determined to stay out on the roof. Aletheia put her knee on the windowsill again. With her heart pounding, she raised her other foot and put it in front of her knee, on the ridgeline. "But—it's your agent. He's—he's got a part for you."
Aunt Rosa's head came up at once. "My agent? Well! Why didn't you say so?"
Aletheia swallowed a terrified gasp as Aunt Rosa got up from her chair. The chair went sliding down the roof one way. The umbrella took a dive the other. Aunt Rosa, graceful and perfectly balanced, ignored them both and trotted blithely along the ridge of the roof. With a condescending hand, she accepted Aletheia's help into the room.
A deep sigh escaped Aletheia.
"Oh, thank God, thank God!" Aletheia's developmentally disabled cousin George was suddenly there, unwittingly aiding the rescue by grabbing close hold of Aunt Rosa.
"The telephone, you fool!" Rosa squawked. "Let me talk to my agent."
Aletheia handed Rosa the phone and she picked up the receiver over George's strangling arms. "Hello," she cooed sweetly, and proceeded to chat as if there were a person on the other end of the line.
Aunt Penelope's spy, eight-year-old Sophie, stood just inside the doorway, checking out the upshot. "Good work, Aletheia," she allowed in her odd, precise voice.
Parker stumbled past Sophie into the room, panting. He grinned when he saw Rosa chattering into the telephone with George still hanging onto her. Parker's cheeks sucked in. "Good work, Aletheia. That umbrella went right over the balcony railing." He sent her a pointed glance. In other words, he wouldn't have been able to save Aunt Rosa if she'd taken the tumble instead.
Aletheia was getting her second hit of knee-melting relief from that information when Felix Roman glided into the room.
Neatly folded, he was carrying Aunt Rosa's deck chair.
Aletheia's gaze locked on the deck chair.
Parker's eyes widened. "Hey, you saved the deck chair!"
Felix looked startled by Parker's enthusiasm, but Aletheia knew what he meant. Felix had saved the deck chair, and would probably have been able to save Aunt Rosa if she had fallen instead.
"Good job!" Aletheia's father exclaimed.
"A rare bit of work," strange little Sophie declared.
"Um..." said Felix. Clearly baffled, he tried to hand the deck chair to Parker.
Aletheia's dizzy sensation returned. She'd trusted Felix—and he'd come through.
How weird was that?
"No can do," an amused Parker told Felix, raising his hands to avoid accepting the deck chair. "My soufflé is waiting."
"But—"
"You'd be sorry if I ruined it," Parker warned. "Since you're staying for dinner now, aren't you?"
Felix looked pole-axed. It was the first time Aletheia had seen the man at a loss. At a loss? He looked positively socked.
Truth be told, she felt a little battered herself. The man could have saved Aunt Rosa. He was competent.
He was also a mystery. Even as she watched, Felix wiped the astonishment from his expression. His face went utterly blank. Aletheia had a feeling he was intent on hiding whatever emotion succeeded his surprise.
He glanced in her direction. "Perhaps I should stay," he ventured slowly. "That would give us a chance to discuss the...transaction I mentioned."
Parker raised his eyebrows. From behind Felix, he mouthed, 'Transaction?'
Aletheia had no answer. It was all a mistake. Felix Roman had meant to find a different Aletheia Cooper—or possibly only wanted to sell this one a fancy security system she couldn't afford.
But a delicate excitement hummed through her as she met his insistent gaze. He was going to stay for dinner. She could give herself a little more time along the edge of a more adventurous world, even if it was only an illusion.
"Sure," she told Felix, feeling a little breathless. "Stay for dinner, and then I'll listen to your pitch."
A flash of something that looked oddly like triumph flitted over Felix's face before his expression settled into stolid determination. "Excellent." He firmly handed Parker the deck chair. "But before anybody eats anything, we're nailing this window shut."
~~~
Bang!
After slamming the hammer into the nail, Felix tried the window. It was nailed solid. He straightened, aware that he was now alone in the third floor bedroom, everyone else having already descended to eat dinner.
Dinner at Aletheia Cooper's house, to which he'd been invited.
Felix rubbed a hand over his jaw. Okay, this was a stroke of luck, Aletheia's cousin spontaneously inviting him to the family meal. It gave Felix an 'in' to the situation, and access to the rest of Benjamin Cooper's extended family. Using it, Felix might be able to discover the information he sought: Benjamin's present location. Once he knew that, Felix could set about restoring to his client the Cloak Benjamin had destroyed.
But... Felix leaned forward to check the window again. But...getting that invitation had been completely unexpected. While it was true he hadn't much experience with large families, he was pretty sure this one was way too friendly.
Straightening again, Felix frowned. In his mind's eye, he saw Aletheia's face when he'd come upstairs carrying the silly deck chair. He saw everyone's faces. They'd acted as if he'd saved the old woman, herself, instead of a piece of lawn furniture.
Well, he would have, but he hadn't. The latter was the important part, wasn't it? He hadn't!
So why the gratitude? Or the guise of friendship? He knew he came off as a cold fish. Nobody invited him to dinner. Hell, not even his own mother.
Felix slapped the hammer into his palm before setting it down to reach for his suit jacket. Okay, so Cooper's family behaved oddly. Didn't matter. He had an opportunity here—and he was taking it. With his mouth setting grimly, he went downstairs.
Most of the gang were already gathered in the dining room when he arrived, and were speaking loudly. It eased Felix to note the room, like the rest of the house, held an air of faded glory. The antique furniture was genuine, but badly scarred, and the wallpaper would have been the height of fashion a century ago.
If money was going to be a factor, then he held all the aces.
Aletheia sat at the foot of the table, arguing about something with the little dark-haired girl, Sophie. But as Felix entered the room, Aletheia's eyes lifted to meet his.
Her gaze was still wary, but not all wary. Mixed in there was a good dose of feminine interest.
He stared, while heat suddenly flashed beneath his suit. Whoa. Was he getting attracted to her?
Fortunately, Aunt Penelope broke into the charged moment. "We don't stand on ceremony here." The withered woman in the wheelchair sounded faintly disappointed. "Sit anywhere."
Chubby Cousin George hastily scooted his chair to one side and looked hopefully toward Felix.
Felix felt shoved off balance all over again. "Uh...thanks," he said, and took the offered chair next to George.
As if this were a cue, Parker, the shaggy-haired cook, came through a swing door bearing a soufflé that looked as puffy and golden as the finest chef could produce.
Appreciative ooh's passed around the table, but Aunt Penelope fixed her eagle gaze on Felix. "So, Mr. Roman, what brings you all the way out to Deer Creek?"
Felix blinked a few times, not surprised by the question, but by the level of interest with which it was asked. For his part, he made sure to sound off-hand. "Oh, I'm here on business."
"What kind of business do you do?" Parker asked, setting the soufflé next to Felix. Again, there was an edge to the question. Not a threatening edge, but rather one of...sincerity.
With a confused frown, Felix gave Parker his stock answer. "I'm head of a security consulting firm. We assist organizations in developing confidentiality, safety, and security for their physical and intellectual property."
A predictable silence fell as they all tried to digest this mouthful. Meanwhile the little dark-haired girl, Sophie, spoke up. "That Lexus is a rental car. What do you drive at home?"
Felix cleared his throat. "Uh, I have a Lexus at home, too."
"What color?" Sophie wanted to know.
George and Aunt Rosa joined Sophie with bright, questioning looks. It mattered to them what color car Felix drove.
"Gray," Felix said.
When Aletheia shot a sharp glance toward Felix's suit, he realized this was gray, too. So was his tie. And the business card he'd handed her, come to think of it. He did like gray.
"Nothing wrong with gray," Parker said, echoing Felix's thought. Parker scooped a helping of soufflé from the serving dish and set it on Felix's plate, sending a heady aroma of cheese and savory herbs wafting upward. "What I'd like to know is how you happened to arrive at the house just when we needed you."
Saying this, he gazed down at Felix, but not with suspicion. With...gratitude. Though Felix didn't look, he sensed Aletheia was sending him a similar, if more guarded, glance.
Felix's skin felt too tight. Why were they all being nice, interested, accepting? They knew nothing about him. Nobody treated him this way, not even people who'd known him for years. Especially not people who'd known him for years.
"That's a good question," Felix told Parker meaningfully. "I was trying to speak to Ms. Cooper when she was interrupted by your emergency phone call."
"Awfully nice of you, to hear the problem and come help out," Aletheia's father said with a nod.
Felix glared at him. Couldn't they see? He wasn't nice. He wasn't their friend. He was a user—and he intended to use all of them.
Deciding it was time to lay his cards on the table, Felix fixed his gaze on Aletheia. "I wasn't thinking about helping. I was merely following the lead I had in a case I'm working so I'd get a chance to question her."
As Felix had planned, everyone went silent. They all gazed at him with varying degrees of confusion.
"What?" Aletheia asked. "I'm a lead?" With a laugh, she added, "I'm afraid you're mistaken."
Steeling himself against her amused smile, Felix continued. "You are the Aletheia Cooper who is sister to Benjamin Cooper, aren't you?" He knew she was. Her name, address, and phone number had been recorded by Benjamin as his emergency contact on his employment papers.
"Benjamin?" Aletheia's amused smile vanished. Her surprise appeared unfeigned. "You're here about Benjamin? But—that doesn't make sense. He lives in Atlanta."
Felix watched her face closely. "When's the last time anybody here heard from Benjamin?"
There was a stunned silence. Baffled glances were traded around the table.
"I'm not much for telephones or email," confessed Aletheia's father.
"Benjamin and I aren't that close," Parker excused himself.
"Benjamin. He's the one who's so good with computers, isn't he?" Aunt Rosa exclaimed. "My accountant, I believe, but so far I haven't seen my first royalty check."
Aletheia was the only one who seemed to get Felix's drift. Her face paled. "Is— Did something happen to Benjamin?"
Felix picked up his fork and tapped the dull end on the table. She'd had no idea—which meant he was about to drop yet another problem on her plate. Not that he minded adding to her troubles. Hell, he had problems of his own. "Benjamin Cooper disappeared three days ago. Before leaving Goddard Research and Design, the secure laboratory where he worked, he sabotaged an expensive, delicate, and top-secret product that was under development."
It had been Felix's job to keep Goddard's lab secure, Felix's job to make sure the confidential and costly products under development there remained safe. It was Felix's reputation which would lie shattered if he didn't find Benjamin and return a repaired Cloak to Goddard.
A hush fell over the table. For a long, pregnant moment everyone stared at Felix.
Mumbling incoherently, Mr. Cooper, Aletheia's father, produced a pen and bent over his table napkin. Disappearing into another world, he began writing equations.
Parker sucked in his cheeks and Aunt Penelope narrowed her wrinkled eyes.
It was Aletheia who finally answered Felix, speaking quietly. "Mr. Roman, are you suggesting that my brother deliberately destroyed someone else's property?"
Felix hooded his eyes. "I'm not suggesting it, Ms. Cooper. I know it. The whole thing is on videotape."
Aletheia's eyes flashed at Felix. "Videotape," she snorted, as if this meant nothing.
Everyone's earlier gratitude had built a tension across Felix's shoulders. Now, with Aletheia's scorn, he felt that tension ease. He was far more used to antipathy than warmth or friendship. "My guess," he told Aletheia, "is that he wrecked the device in order to drive up the price."
Aletheia looked baffled. "The price? What are you talking about?"
"The U.S. military was on the point of contracting for this invention, but any number of unfriendly nations and criminal organizations would be happy to get their hands on it."
Aletheia gaped at him. "You think my brother, the computer scientist, is blackmailing the United States government?"
Felix lifted a shoulder. "More likely selling to the highest bidder."
Aletheia's eyes widened. "You're crazy."
"The evidence is there."
"A videotape."
"A pretty damning one."
Aletheia folded her hands on the tabletop. "I have no idea what's actually on that videotape, but I guarantee you've drawn the wrong conclusions from it."
Exasperation clashed with Felix's calm. He'd seen the evidence she scorned. Slight and youthful Dr. Benjamin Cooper, software genius extraordinaire, ripping apart the wiring for the Cloak. It was as if he'd wanted them to see it, had wanted them to know they'd have to deal with him if they wanted the thing operational again.
Felix wasn't so pure he couldn't understand the temptation, the thrill of holding so much power. On the contrary, he'd spent his whole life making sure he didn't fall prey to the same temptation. Darkness was in his blood.
Now his jaw set. "It's my job to see my client gets his property restored. The only one who can do that is Benjamin Cooper. He's the only one with the technical know-how to fix what he wrecked. Help me find Benjamin, then my client gets his product, everybody is happy. No charges will even be filed." Felix paused. "I'm willing to pay generously for any information leading to Benjamin's whereabouts."
This time Felix looked away from Aletheia to address the rest of the family. Mr. Cooper was still fixated on his napkin, George and Rosa looked confused, Parker appeared concerned.
But Aunt Penelope, her lips pursing, searched Felix's face shrewdly. "Just out of curiosity: how generous?"
Pleased by the question, Felix raised an eyebrow. "How much is the note on the house?"
Mr. Cooper stared down at his napkin, breathing heavily. Nobody spoke. For a terrible moment, Felix feared the foreclosure proceedings were a disaster known only to Aletheia. But then Aunt Penelope licked her lips. "Fifty thousand dollars."
Felix stared at her. That was it? Fifty thousand dollars? The family was living so close to the edge they couldn't swing that?
Surprised, but also relieved, Felix nodded. "I can manage fifty K if you help me find Benjamin. Remember, no charges will be pressed if he fixes what he broke."
Again, no one said a word. Felix had a feeling none of them had dreamed they'd find this much money, not even Aletheia, who'd been trying to sell her café in an obvious bid to raise it.
Nevertheless, the silence stretched. Felix realized they were all awaiting direction from their leader.
He turned to regard Aletheia.
The look in her eyes told him she'd totally revised her gratitude. It had all turned to hate.
This was the reaction he'd expected from the beginning, but it gave him an odd feeling in his gut. Covering the sensation, he smiled slightly and rose from his seat. "Excommunication and starvation for me, Parker. I'm afraid I ruined your soufflé."
"True," the shaggy-haired man replied. "You'll get no dessert, and it's chocolate fudge pie, too, one of my best." But he appeared to regard Felix with more curiosity than accusation.
Aletheia's gaze, however, remained pure loathing as she, too, rose from her seat. "I'll see you out," she said, the words steely.
Felix lowered his lashes. Excellent. A private word with her was exactly what he wanted. But he was still fighting an unpleasant sinking sensation as he followed Aletheia from the room.
On the front porch, he put out a hand to halt her hasty progress toward the steps.
She turned with rigid fury. "What do you want, Mr. Roman?"
For a moment Felix was taken aback, not by her level of animosity, but by his own reaction to it—almost...regret. As if he could have kept Aletheia Cooper's kind regard in any case.
He frowned. The only thing to regret would be failing to retrieve Cooper. He needed that scientist. "You know what I want. Your brother's whereabouts. Think about it, Ms. Cooper. Fifty thousand dollars. You could pay off the loan on the house." He paused before giving her his best shot. "None of your relatives would be put out on the street or shunted off to institutions."
Aletheia's eyes became even darker in the dwindling light of the summer evening. He'd scored a hit, but she wasn't down. "And my brother would be—what, Mr. Roman? You claim no charges would be filed, but his career would be finished, wouldn't it? He'd be convicted without a trial."
Didn't she get it? There was a videotape. But she was standing up for her brother as if the evidence didn't exist. No, worse—as if the evidence didn't matter.
For some reason that, more than anything, threatened Felix's control. Frustration became a low simmer of anger. He shoved it down, this flicker from the dark side. "Your brother would only reap what he'd sowed."
"In other words, you're asking me to weigh Benjamin's welfare against that of everyone else in the family."
Felix frowned. "Yes."
Aletheia shook her head. To Felix, there was a pitying quality in the gesture. Pitying him, as if he didn't understand.
The simmer of anger became a spike. He understood. He understood that she'd be the one proven wrong. Her loyalty was completely misplaced. Nobody could be trusted the way she trusted her brother, nobody in the world. But amidst his rage lurked a strange sensation of...yearning. To be trusted that way—
Felix put on his very blandest expression. "With you or without you, I'm going to track your brother down."
She tilted her head. "You may find that more difficult than you imagine—particularly if I'm making sure that you don't."
Their eyes met. That odd yearning, together with his underlying anger, pushed Felix over the edge. Hell. He could feel his darkness stealing through. Not only anger, but a host of emotions swirled and sought to gain sway: want, frustration, desire. At the same time that he wanted to throttle her, he was also aware of her scent escaping into the heat of the day and the dewy freshness of her skin only inches away from him. Dammit, he was attracted to her. Fiercely attracted.
With their solitude on the dusky porch, her flashing eyes and soft-looking mouth, he actually wanted to kiss her.
Jesus. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled himself back from the brink. With practiced care, he shoved his darkness back where it belonged, under control. This woman had just sworn herself his enemy. He wasn't about to come on to her, nor would she welcome such an overture. So with a deep, uneven breath, he asked her straight out, "Do you know where Benjamin is?"
She looked at him. Usually Felix was good at reading people, but he couldn't read her. There were too many distractions in the way. Her eyes, her inescapable femininity, and that utterly ridiculous loyalty. Damnation, he couldn't tell: did she know?
"You have my card," Felix told her. "Call me if you change your mind." He turned and started down the steps, away from an increasingly unsettling interaction. "Fifty thousand dollars," he reminded her, over his shoulder.
Aletheia said nothing, but Felix could feel the arrows she shot into his back all the way to his rented Lexus.