Genuine Lies

touched them to his lips.
    “Do you know what first attracted me to you?”
    “The fact that I pretended not to be attracted to you?”
    The way her lips curved made him grin. Yes, she would fight. No matter how fragile her hold, she would fight. “Well, there was that—that intriguing sense of distance. But even more was the way you looked that first time, walking into Eve’s parlor. There was a look in your eyes.”
    “Jet lag.”
    “Shut up and let me finish.” He touched his mouth to hers, felt her relax fractionally. “It said, quite clearly, I don’t like chatty little dinner parties, but I’m going to get through it. And if anyone here takes a punch at me, I’ll punch them right back.”
    “You did, I recall.”
    “Yeah, I did. I didn’t like the idea of the book.”
    She opened her eyes then and looked into his. “Whatever happens, I’m still going to write it.”
    “I know.” Because he could see tears were threatening, he kissed her eyes closed, then pulled her against his shoulder, where her head could rest. “Now take five. We’ll be home soon.”
    The phone was ringing when they walked in the door. By tacit agreement, they both ignored it. “I think I’ll take a shower,” Julia said. She was halfway up the stairs when the phone machine clicked on.
    “Julia Summers.” The voice was friendly, amused. “Well, maybe you’re not back from the big day yet. Do yourself a favor and give me a call. The name’s Haffner, and I’ve got some interesting information for sale. You might want to know who else was snooping around on the estate the day Eve Benedict went down.”
    She froze, one hand on the banister. When she turned, Paul was already picking up the phone and punching it to speaker.
    “The number here’s—”
    “This is Winthrop,” Paul interrupted. “Who the hell are you?”
    “Just an interested bystander. I saw you and pretty Julia leave the courthouse. Tough break.”
    “I want to know who you are and what you know.”
    “And I’m more than glad to tell you, friend. For a price. I think, say, two hundred and fifty thousand, cash, ought to cover my expenses.”
    “What am I paying for?”
    “You’re paying for reasonable doubt, and I can deliver. That’s all you need to keep that sexy lady out of a cage. You bring half the money and the lady up to the HOLLYWOOD sign, nine o’clock. Then if you want me to talk to the cops, or a judge, you deliver the other half. I’ll be all yours.”
    “The banks are closed.”
    “Oh, yeah, ain’t that a bitch. Well, I can wait, Winthrop. Can she?”
    Paul looked over. Julia was standing a foot away, straight as a spear. Her eyes were locked on his. In them was something he hadn’t seen for days. It was hope.
    “I’ll get it. Nine o’clock.”
    “And we’ll just leave the cops out of it for now. I smell one, I’m gone.”
    Her eyes followed the receiver as Paul replaced it. She was almost afraid to speak, afraid to say the words. “Do you think—could he have really seen someone?”
    “Someone else was there.” Before he could pull his thoughts together, the phone rang again. “Winthrop.”
    “Paul, it’s Victor. I wanted to know … is she all right?”
    Paul looked at his watch. “Victor, how much cash can you get your hands on in the next two hours?” “Cash? Why?” “For Julia.”
    “Dear God, Paul, she’s not going to run.” “No. I don’t have time to explain. How much can you get?”
    “In an hour or two? Forty, maybe fifty thousand.”
    “That’ll do. I’ll be by to get it. No later than eight.”
    “All right. I’ll make some calls.”
    Julia pressed her fingers to her mouth, then dropped them in a helpless gesture. “Just like that,” she said. “No questions, no conditions. I don’t know what to say.”
    “You will when the time comes. I can bring it up to a hundred thousand out of my automatic teller. What about your agent? Can she wire you the rest?”
    “Yes. Yes.” She felt the tears as she picked up the phone. Not of fear this time, but of desperate hope. “Paul, I’m going to pay you back. I don’t mean just the money.”
    “Let’s do it. And make it fast, I want to call Frank.”
    “The police? But he said—”
    “He’ll stay downwind.” There was something in Paul’seyes as well. Excitement. The dark and dangerous kind. “No way I’m going to hand over this cash, then watch the guy walk. Not after he waited and watched you go through hell. Make the call,