Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

brief conversations. Keeping her arm linked with Philip's, Holly was more than satisfied with the looks of female jealousy and male envy they received.
    However, as they approached their assigned places at a round table for ten, her composure slipped. Sitting directly opposite them was the reporter, David Wells. She had only seen him the one time in the airport restaurant, but his crown of unkempt brown curls, too-blue eyes and cocky grin were extremely recognizable.
    He and the other gentlemen at the table rose as Philip held out a chair for her. Wells was appropriately dressed in a black tuxedo, though he struck her as more the jeans-and-t-shirt type. Somehow she knew it wouldn't matter what he was wearing or what setting he was in, he would be relaxed and in total control. She wondered if that control would be shaken if he knew she'd been checking on him and considering how to turn him into a tool.
    "Hello, again," David said, making certain that his greeting was heard across the wide table. They each gave him the same kind of noncommittal half-smile that one would give to any total stranger sharing one's dinner table for several hours. He reminded Philip of their previous encounter. "I mistook you for someone else at the airport the other night. I'm David Wells, Washington Herald reporter. You might be more familiar with my associate, Christine Crowley, D.C.'s loveliest busybody."
    The older woman with the spiked black hair and twinkling eyes smiled at them both, then the others at the table introduced themselves. When Philip identified himself and Holly, David managed to sound genuinely surprised.
    "You're Holly Kaufman? I wish I had known that the other day. I've been trying to get an appointment with you. You're one busy lady." Her answer was another meaningless smile. "I'm working on an article about the lack of success of various recycling plans, and I've been told it wouldn't be complete without your input."
    "Did you have a particular question?"
    He felt her silky voice reach beneath the table and stroke his sex, while her eyes boldly met his. "I hardly think garbage is an appropriate dinner topic for mixed company. What do you say we meet for lunch Monday?" There was no way she could refuse in front of all these people.
    "I'm sorry. The first opening I have is Tuesday at four. My office."
    She had offered no explanation for not returning his call, then sidestepped his invitation without being impolite. So be it. "Great. I'll be there."
    David had observed the way Sinkiewicz straightened in his seat at the mention of lunch. The man clearly suspected his real reason for wanting to meet with Holly, but this time, he could do nothing about it.
    His traditional seduction techniques were unavoidably constrained that evening. Conversation was impossible during the before-and after-dinner speeches, and the table was just large enough to prohibit any personal comments. He quietly accused Christine of arranging the seating to increase the odds against his getting to first base with the lady.
    On the few occasions her glance slid over his, he had the uncanny feeling it was he who was being seduced instead of the other way around. He threw her his best I-want-you-naked-beneath-me look. Nothing. Not even a blush of comprehension.
    He settled for watching her... and Philip. The man reminded David of a big puppy dog panting around his mistress's feet hoping for a pat on the head. But he didn't get one. In fact, Holly rarely looked at him and, other than having her hand on his arm when they walked up to the table, there was no further physical contact between them. At one point he saw Philip almost touch her hand to get her attention but at the last moment his fingers curled back into his palm. Interesting relationship. If it could be called that.
    It was inevitable that someone would bring up the Ziegler murder. David only had to wait and watch.
    "A friend of a friend, who knows someone at the FBI, said it was probably a woman," a congressman said.
    "Maybe Cheryl Wallace decided to make sure he couldn't enjoy his victory," his wife added.
    As the speculation continued, David noticed how Holly lowered her gaze, and the way she slowly lowered her fork onto her half-full plate. She was very cool. If he hadn't been watching so closely, he might not have picked up any change in her at all. Either something she had eaten or the topic of conversation had clearly upset her. When the subject changed a moment later and her