Page 71 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“It’s a lovely day. We can put the top down.”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever letanyonedrive your car?”

“No.”

Chapter 30

The offices ofHollywood Whisperswere on the second floor of a small nondescript building. Oliver looked around the grimy lobby, hoping to spot an elevator. There wasn’t one.

Irene paused at the foot of the stairs. “Why don’t you wait here? I won’t be long.”

He managed to squelch the flare of temper but it wasn’t easy. She was just being thoughtful, he told himself. But, damn it to hell, he was really tired of having his infirmity pointed out. The last thing he wanted from Irene was sympathy.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

He was careful to keep his tone neutral but she blinked and looked a little taken aback. He realized she must have seen something in his eyes warning her that she was getting too close to the invisible line he had drawn.

“Suit yourself,” she said.

She took the stairs like a gazelle.

He watched her curvy rear disappear down a hallway. While theview was gratifying, he knew he probably deserved to get left behind in her dust. He was too touchy about the damned leg. He tightened his grip on his cane, grasped the handrail, and started up the stairs.

At the top, the relentless clacking of typewriter keys emanated from a large room crowded with desks and reporters. Several office doors stood open but the one labeledEditorwas closed.

He raised his hand to knock but the door was yanked open before he could do so. Irene glared at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hot with temper.

“We’re leaving,” she announced. “I’ve been fired.”

Behind her, a large, middle-aged woman with improbably red hair sat behind a battered desk. Velma Lancaster, he decided. Although she was sitting very still, she seemed to vibrate with nervy energy.

She studied Oliver through a pair of spectacles perched on her sharp nose.

“So you’re the Amazing Oliver Ward,” she said.

“And you’re Irene’s ex-boss.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Velma said. “Why don’t you both sit down and we’ll discuss this like civilized people?”

She had a voice that would have projected quite well from a stage.

Irene rounded on her. “I’m not feeling very civilized today. Last night I almost got burned alive and now you tell me I’m out of a job.”

Velma waved that off with an impatient gesture.

“Sit down,” she snapped.

To Oliver’s surprise, Irene sank reluctantly into a wooden chair. She clutched her precious handbag on her lap and fixed Velma with a wary, narrow-eyed gaze.

Velma turned her attention back to Oliver.

“What’s your relationship to Irene, Mr. Ward?”

“We’re partners,” Irene said. “He was with me last night when we found another body and two goons tried to torch a warehouse with us inside.”

Velma did not take her eyes off Oliver. “Well, Ward? What do you have to say for yourself?”

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