Genuine Lies

don’t think you’re sending me these notes. I never did. This is much too passive a threat for you.”
    He lifted a brow, then drank. “Was that meant to be flattering?”
    “No, just honest.” It was she who closed the distance, then lifted a hand to his face as if to smooth away the lines that had formed there in only the last few moments. “I didn’t think it of you before, and I don’t—couldn’t—think it now.”
    “Because we’re lovers.”
    “No, because I love you.”
    A ghost of a smile touched his mouth as he lifted his hand to cover hers. “You make it difficult for a man to stay annoyed, Jules.”
    “Are you annoyed with me?”
    “Yes.” Still, he pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. “But I think we should work through the priorities. First, let’s see if we can find out who left the message at the desk.”
    It irked that she hadn’t thought of that before him. That was part of the problem—she wasn’t thinking clearly. When he walked to the phone, Julia sat, reminding herself that if she intended to see this through—and she did—she would have to be not only calm but calculating. The next sip of champagne reminded her that she was drinking on an empty stomach. That was no way to keep the mind clear.
    “The tickets were delivered by a uniformed messenger,” Paul told her after he hung up. “The second envelope was left on the desk. They’re checking, but it’s doubtful anyone noticed who put it there.”
    “It could have been anyone, anyone who knew I planned to come here and interview your father.”
    “And who did know?”
    She rose and walked to the cart to nibble. “I didn’t make a secret of it. Eve, certainly. Nina, Travers, CeeCee, Lyle— Drake, I suppose. Then anyone who might have asked any of them. Isn’t that what you did?”
    Despite the circumstances, it amused him that she carried the dish of shrimp in lobster sauce with her as she paced, stabbing at it and forking it into her mouth as if she were refueling rather than dining. “Travers told me. I suppose the next question is what do you want to do about it?”
    “Do about it? I don’t see what there is to do but ignore it. I can’t see me going to Scotland Yard.” The idea, and the food, helped her disposition. Calmer, she set the nearly empty dish aside, then picked up the champagne. “I can see it now. Inspector, someone sent me a note. No, I can’t say it was a threat really. More of a proverb. Put your best men on the case.”
    Normally he would have found her resilience admirable. Nothing was quite normal any longer. “You didn’t find it so funny when you opened the envelope.”
    “No, I didn’t, but maybe I should. Two wrongs don’tmake a right? How can I be bothered with someone who can’t be any more original that that?”
    “Odd, I thought it was clever.” When he came to her, she saw that her attempt at humor had fallen well short of the mark. “If anyone caught the person who’s sending them, it would hardly interest the police, would it? Harmless, even shopworn sayings. It would be hard to prove there was anything threatening about them. But we know differently.”
    “If you’re going to tell me to give up the book—”
    “I think I understand the futility of that one by now. Julia, don’t block me out of this.” He touched her, just a hand to her hair. “Let me listen to the tapes. I want to help you.”
    She couldn’t turn away this time. It wasn’t arrogance, it wasn’t ego. It was love. “All right. As soon as we get home.”
    Even with Julia out of the country, Lyle found a lot to interest him in the comings and goings of the guest house. A cleaning crew had spent two full days on the place. Trucks had hauled away broken furniture, shattered glass, torn curtains. He’d taken a peek at the interior before the crew had arrived. It had looked as though someone had thrown one hell of a party.
    He was sorry he’d missed it. Damn sorry. The name of the partygoer might have been worth a tidy sum. But that particular afternoon he’d been happily boinking the upstairs maid. He now considered the fact that that brief—but very gratifying—fuck had probably cost him several thousand.
    Still, there were other ways to earn a living. Lyle had big dreams and a list of priorities. Right up top was a Porsche. Nothing impressed the babes more than a cool dude in a hot car. He wanted his own place, a beach house where he could sit on his deck and watch all those