Eye of the Beholder

here in Avalon," Alexa said. "So she tried to frighten me into staying away from you. I think she wanted to protect me."

27

    Trask leaned back in the lounger and looked up at the stars that gleamed above Alexa's patio. "What with all the excitement today, I haven't had a chance to tell you a couple of things. The first stories on the resort appeared in the Tucson and Phoenix papers."
    Alexa stretched out in the adjacent lounger. "Good press, I hope?"
    "Yeah."
    "Did they call your hotel a fantasy come true?"
    "What else?" He paused deliberately. "The articles mention the art collection."
    "That's nice."
    "Not excited?"
    "I'm not going to get excited until TCA does a story that calls the collection the finest display of Deco outside of New York ."
    "I was afraid of that." He paused. "You don't think you're expecting a little too much under the circumstances?"
    "No. The Avalon collection is the best outside of New York . One of the best in the country. When TCA acknowledges that, I can go public and take the credit."
    Trask contemplated the stars while he considered various strategies for bringing leverage to bear on the publishers of Twentieth-Century Artifact. He did not know many people in the world of magazine publishing, but he knew people who had contacts in that world.
    "Don't even think about it, Trask."
    He assumed his most innocent expression. "About what?"
    "About trying to intimidate TCA into printing a rave review of the hotel's collection."
    "You never let me have any fun."
    "It's a sweet thought," she assured him. "But I doubt if it will work, and it could easily backfire. I don't need any more nasty press, thank you very much."
    "You underestimate me, my dear. I know how to apply pressure in very subtle ways."
    "I'll just bet you do." She smiled. "Forget TCA. We've got bigger problems on our hands at the moment. What's your other news?"
    " Radstone's a professional con man."
    She sniffed. "He always speaks highly of you."
    "I'm serious, Alexa. The guy used to go by the name of Fletcher Richards. Ripped off a bunch of seniors with some scam he ran as a so-called financial planner."
    Her head came around swiftly. She stared at him. "Are you serious?"
    "Yes."
    "I can't believe it. He's Webster's righthand man." She waved a hand. "I dated the guy."
    "Until I saved you from his clutches by keeping you too busy with my art collection," he said. "Makes you wonder if there might be something to this metaphysical stuff after all, doesn't it?"
    She looked at him askance. "I beg your pardon?" He moved one hand in a broad arc. "You know, it's as if there was some mysterious force at work all along."
    "Mysterious force?"
    "Trying to bring us together," he explained.
    "I suppose that is a point of view."
    "Right. It's my point of view and I'm sticking with it." Satisfied, he decided to move on. "Tell me again why you drove all the way out to Joanna's house in the middle of the afternoon?"
    "Like I said, I was worried about her. She didn't open her shop this morning. Stewart said she wasn't feeling well. I tried calling her, but she didn't answer the phone."
    "So you just hopped into your car and drove out to see her? I don't suppose it crossed your mind to let me know what you were up to? We're supposed to be working on this project together, if you will recall."
    "That reminds me, how did you find out where I was?" she asked.
    "Sure. Change the subject. Just when I'm really getting into my lecture." He eyed her. "I called your shop. Talked to your assistant, Kerry."
    "Oh."
    "About this partnership of ours—" He broke off at the sound of a car in the drive. "I think you've got company."
    Alexa tilted her head, listening. "I wonder who would come by at this hour of the night? "
    "Let's find out."
    Trask got to his feet and started around the side of the house. Alexa swung her legs off the lounger and hurried after him.
    A gleaming Range Rover was parked in the drive. The driver cut the lights and the engine just as Trask rounded the comer of the house.
    Two of the vehicle's doors opened. Foster Radstone got out from behind the wheel. Trask watched him flash his cap-toothed smile at Alexa. It hit him that no price would have been too high for his new Deco collection as long as working on it had kept Alexa from getting seriously involved with Radstone .
    Webster Bell climbed from the passenger seat. The porch lights gleamed on the silver in his necklace and belt. His looked ten years older than he had the night of the