Truth

settling on her intense emerald eyes, he fought the new feelings he had for Claire Nichols. Contempt and respect were currently contending for first place. How could this petite polished woman so easily reduce him to her accomplice? He leaned down to lower his voice. “For such a beautiful woman who appears deceivingly meek,” She turned toward him, stupid grin still intact. “You really are a bitch.”
    “ Thank you, Mr. Roach.” She extended her right hand. After only a moment’s hesitation, he accepted. “I’ve had a marvelous teacher. I believe we have a deal, am I correct?”
    “ Yes, Ms. Nichols, we have a deal. I certainly hope you’ve enjoyed your relaxing stay in San Antonio.”
    “ Thank you, I have. Oh, Mr. Roach. If you’re considering tampering with the GPS in my rental car, let me save you the trouble. The data’s been permanently deleted. Shall we begin tomorrow with breakfast, let’s say 7:30?”
    Phillip thought how helpful that information would have been earlier this evening, before he spent forty five minutes trying to extract recent destinations from the built-in Global Positioning System within her Chrysler 200. There was no question in his mind – he’d seriously underestimated this woman. He wondered if he were the only person to make that mistake. He truly doubted it. “I’ll be lurking in the shadows at 7:30. Forgive me; I don’t want to be included in future photos.”
    “ Then we’ve never met.” Claire turned to leave then glanced back, “Until tomorrow.”
    He nodded and watched her walk away. Her posture exuded confidence, straight spine and slightly raised chin. The backless dress exposed her feminine lean body. A faint white line from a slender bathing suit strap was visible across her tanned back. Below the bare skin, covered with the soft white material was one of the most perfect round behinds he’d ever seen. Watching it sway with just the perfect amount of sultry yet aristocratic movement, he concluded: she does a fine job walking in those shoes . A clandestine four days with her in this five star hotel wouldn’t be a bad tour. Hell, it might even be worth losing his job.
    The body of Mr. Roach’s email was short and simple:
     
    Mr. Rawlings, I apologize for the inconvenience and delay. My laptop decided to reject the SD card from my camera. I’m glad to say the kinks have been resolved. As you will see, I have multiple photos of Ms. Nichols from throughout her four day holiday. I honestly expected to see her with someone. However, it seems this was truly a four day get-a-way meant only for her personal rest and revitalization.
    I have a return ticket on her plane. We should arrive in San Francisco at approximately 5 PM PST, 7 PM CST. I’ll be available by telephone after that, if you need to reach me. Again, I’ll remain dedicated to this assignment until I learn otherwise. Thank you, Phillip Roach

    Tony clicked the attachment. A parade of pictures: Claire eating breakfast, lounging at the pool, at dinner, in a bar… After a fast pass through all fourteen photos, Tony went through them again, slowly digesting the contents. He wondered about San Antonio. Why? Why would she go there? It didn’t make sense. But then again why not? She’d always enjoyed warm weather and sunshine.
     
     

 
     
     
    A man growing old becomes a child again.
– Sophocles
     
    Chapter 14
     
    1984...
    Marie combed Ms. Sharron’s thinning hair and talked endlessly about nothing. Mrs. Sharron Rawls enjoyed hearing her talk. When Marie would momentarily pause, to collect her thoughts or take a breath, Ms. Sharron would gently tap her arm, indicating for her to continue. Marie wondered if the sweet elderly lady understood the words being said, or if she just liked the sound of her voice. Heaven knows, even with the large staff, the enormous house could be incredibly quiet and lonely. There were times Ms. Sharron would allow the sounds to be the radio or the television, but without a doubt, she preferred voices. When Marie spoke, Ms. Sharron’s breathing would regulate and her expression would calm.
    It would seem that after a year and a half, Marie would have run out of things to say, but she hadn’t. She could ramble at length about nothing. Truthfully, she hadn’t planned on staying with the Rawls for this long. She, of course, never saw herself as a nurse maid. Yet, given her circumstances, this job was a god send. And now, barely twenty–three years old, she