Page 33 of Prime Time

“That usually turn out to be right,” Jeff said.

“Not this time.”

“Are you sure? Les said you were going to get chummy with the son to see if you could eke any info out of him. How ’bout it? Find out any juicy tidbits?”

A sound from behind them brought their attention around. Lyon was standing in the archway leading into the hall. His eyes were almost black as he glared at Andy. He was clutching his straw hat with both hands. Ten knuckles were white.

“I wanted to offer you the use of the pool this afternoon,” he said. The brittle words seemed to have a hard time finding their way out of the taut lips. “There are suits, towels, anything you need in the cabana.” He put the hat on and pulled it down low over his brows, thankfully screening his accusing eyes from Andy. His boot heels echoed like the strokes of a death knell on the tile as he went out the front door.

Tony whistled softly through his teeth.

Gil shifted uncomfortably and looked at his empty plate.

Warren cleared his throat.

Jeff chuckled. “Well, well, well. I think we’ve riled the cowboy.”

“Shut up, Jeff.” Andy snapped.

“Touchy, touchy. Wha

t’s with you two?”

Play it cool, Andy, and don’t you dare cry in front of them. Don’t think about the hatred you saw on Lyon’s face. Don’t think about the kisses you’ve exchanged with a man who now seems to hold you in contempt. Don’t think!

“He seems friendly enough,” Gil said, seeming not to notice that Andy hadn’t answered Jeff’s question. “But I get the feeling he’d just as soon we weren’t here.”

“He was dead-set against the whole idea at first, but as you see, he’s come around.” She took a sip of her tea with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

“Did you learn anything from him?”

“No. I didn’t get chummy, either. Les is way off base this time.”

“Is he?”

“Yes,” she fairly screamed. For the second time in only a few hours, she pushed away from the dining table in a high state of agitation. “Why don’t all of you go swimming? I’ll join you in an hour or so, after I’ve read over my notes for tomorrow. Warren, is the monitor set up so that I can play the tapes back?”

“Yeah, Andy. In the living room.”

“Thank you. See you all later.”

Ostensibly in her room to review her notes, she brooded instead. Below her windows she could hear the laughter and playful splashing of the crew, but she was disinclined to join them in the pool.

Lyon had overheard Jeff. Now he’d never believe that their intimacy was anything more than a ploy to get him to talk about his father. He had never trusted her. What Jeff had said would only confirm in Lyon’s mind that she was a schemer, a ruthless opportunist who didn’t care whom she hurt so long as she got her story.

Lying on her bed, her arm across her eyes, she groaned when Gracie tapped on her door and said, “Andy, a Mr. Trapper is holding on the line for you. Do you want to talk to him?”

No. “Yes. Tell him I’ll be right there. Can I take the call on the extension in the hall?”

“Sure. I’ll hang up when I hear you.”

“Thank you, Gracie.” She hauled herself off the bed and tried to shake off the lethargy that threatened to anchor her to the mattress. In her stocking feet she padded into the hallway and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Les.” She heard Gracie break her connection.

“Hello, baby doll. How is everything?”

“Fine.”

“Crew get there without mishap?”

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