Page 10 of The Lady Has a Past

“I assumed the Adlington case was just another take-some-photos-that-will-prove-my-husband-is-cheating-so-I-will-have-grounds-for-a-divorce job,” Raina said. “I thought it would be a good way to introduce Lyra to the business. She actually knows a lot about photography, because she has frequently assisted her sister, Vivian, with her studio photography. Next time I’ll insist the potential client come into the office for the first interview.”

“Don’t set any hard-and-fast rules,” Luther advised. “In the future there may be clients who desperately need your help who can’t risk being seen in a private investigator’s office.”

Raina contemplated that for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. I told Lyra to think long and hard about whether she really wants to be a private investigator. I wonder if she will show up at the office tomorrow morning?”

“It will be her choice. She has a right to make it. Don’t try to decide her future for her.”

Raina sighed. “I’m afraid she may have based her career decision on Nancy Drew and Nick and Nora Charles. If nothing else, today’s experience will teach her not to romanticize the investigation business.”

Chapter 5

Luther left her bed shortly after three that morning. He never spent the night. They had not discussed the fact that he did not stay for breakfast. There was no need to talk about it. Raina understood. The decision had been made by mutual, albeit silent agreement.

It wasn’t about her reputation. True, she and Luther were reasonably discreet, but their relationship was hardly a secret in Burning Cove, a town that was famous as a destination for those seeking illicit trysts and liaisons. Given Luther’s notorious image and the fact that she was a woman of a certain age who was engaged in a business many viewed as slightly shady, rumors that his speedster had been parked outside her house until breakfast would not raise many eyebrows.

They both had their reasons for the way they chose to conduct the affair. She sensed that Luther did not stay for breakfast because he was afraid of falling asleep beside her; afraid of waking up in a nightmare that had its origins in the war. She knew something about his nightmares, because she had seen his paintings. The dark, stormy landscapes that hung in his office and in his private quarters above the Paradisewere straight from his dreams. Painting was his therapy, his way of surviving the memories.

Her reasons for not inviting him to stay until morning were similar. She did not want to wake up in the middle of a nightmare about a home that had become a prison.

“Now that you’ve got an apprentice who can watch the office, what do you say to taking off from work early tomorrow?” Luther said, fastening his white shirt. “I can order a picnic lunch from one of the local restaurants. We could drive out to Smuggler’s Cove and take a walk on the beach.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Raina said. “Assuming I’ve still got an apprentice.”

“Something tells me Lyra will show up at the office,” Luther said.

Raina smiled, amused by his certainty. “You sound very confident of that.”

Luther leaned over the bed and planted a palm on either side of her. “She may be feeling the effects of all that champagne she drank tonight, but I’ll bet she shows up. Get some sleep.”

He kissed her, straightened, collected his jacket, and headed for the door.

“Good night,” she said. “Drive carefully.”

She wanted to say,Good night, Luther, my love,but she didn’t. Neither of them had used the wordlove; not yet. Maybe never.

“Don’t worry,” Luther said. “At this hour there won’t be anyone else on the road.”

A moment later she heard the front door open and close. She waited for the distinctclickthat told her he had used the key she had given him to lock it.

She settled back into the pillows, taking comfort in the faint, lingering trace of his scent. She was not surprised when sleep eluded her. She lay quietly gazing up at the shadowed ceiling and wondered if Lyra was able to sleep. Probably not.

Luther had sent her home in the Paradise limo with instructions to the driver to see her safely inside her beachfront cottage. She had been flushed and giddy from the champagne and the dancing, but the nervy energy unleashed by what had happened at the Adlington residence had not yet burned itself out.

At five o’clock Raina abandoned the effort to get some sleep. She got up, took a shower, put on a floral dressing gown, made a pot of coffee, and opened the front door. The early edition of theBurningCoveHeraldwas on the doorstep.

She took the paper inside and settled down at the kitchen table to read the headlines. Not surprisingly, Lyra was on the front page again. This time there was a photo of her glamorously dressed in her silver evening gown arriving at the Paradise. The headline said it all:Lady Private Eye Who Dispatched Crazed Killer with Golf Club Celebrates at Local Nightclub.

If Lyra did show up for work today, she was likely to be inundated with clients, probably of the male variety. Last night the men in the Paradise had lined up to take her out onto the dance floor.

A woman who radiated an aura of danger and glamour fascinated a certain kind of man. Those same men would be terrified by the prospect of marrying such a woman, of course. But the possibility of going to bed with one would be an irresistible challenge to a lot of males who assumed that an affair with afast womancame with no strings attached.

Raina was quite certain that Lyra could handle any man who thought it might be exciting to seduce—or be seduced by—an attractive woman with a killer golf swing. She had been raised in the hothouse of San Francisco’s high society. She had been taught from childhood to navigate the treacherous social waters of that world. She could deal with the male of the species.

The question was whether she would change her mind about her newfound calling. Raina hoped she didn’t.Yesterday I was ready to fire her for her own good, and today I want her to stay.

Lyra might be naïve and inexperienced when it came to the harsh realities of life, but she radiated positive energy the way a light bulb chases off the shadows when you flip the switch. It would be nice to have that sort of energy around the office. Lyra could put the clients at ease. People would open up and talk to her.

There were a number of logical reasons for employing her at Kirk Investigations, but was it the right thing to do? Maybe it would be better to offer Lyra a job as the firm’s secretary. That way she could deal with the clients, but in a much safer capacity.

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