French Silk(115)

"By definition, Josh, suspect means someone whose actions are suspicious."

Josh raised his shoulders in an innocent shrug. "Like what?"

"Like trying to cast doubt on your stepmother/lover."

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Your conscience got the best of you?" Cassidy asked caustically.

"I didn't want to go down with her. I told you that."

"Okay. Explain this. Why'd you meet with Claire Laurent tonight?"

Josh's eyes sharpened on Cassidy. "How'd you know about that? Did you have me followed?"

"I saw you myself when you left The Gumbo Shop."

"You just happened to be passing by?" Josh asked angrily.

"Answer the question."

Cassidy's shout squelched Josh's brief, indignant outburst. He cast around for something to look at besides Cassidy's incisive stare. "She called and arranged that meeting, not me."

"You and the owner of French Silk make a very strange pairing."

Josh left his chair and began moving restlessly around the room. His motions were disjointed, jerky. "I nearly dropped the phone when she called and identified herself."

"You'd never met her before tonight?"

"Hell no. After all the dirty water that's gone under that bridge, she was the last person I ever expected to call and ask if I'd meet her for drinks."

Like Claire, Josh was lying or at the very least expurgating the truth. Cassidy went fishing. "Classy-looking lady."

"I guess," Josh replied warily.

"You appeared to be upset when you left the restaurant."

"I was."

"Let's stop dancing around it. What'd she want, Josh?"

"It has nothing to do with my father's murder."

"Let me decide that."

The younger man seemed to wrestle with himself for several moments before blurting out, "She offered me a check for twenty-five thousand dollars to call off our dogs."

Cassidy whistled. "Pretty steep price to pay to stop a protest demonstration."

"All that stuff. The picketing. The prank calls. The things Ariel's telling the papers. Ms. Laurent wants it to stop. Can't say that I blame her."

"So what'd you tell her?"

"I told her to piss off. What she obviously doesn't know is that I don't wield any influence over Ariel. Since Daddy died, she calls the shots, not me. I couldn't put a muzzle on her if I wanted to."

"So you declined Claire's offer?"

"I tore her check in two and symbolically threw it in her face. I told her that I had nothing to do with the ministry's operation. Never had. Never will. Never even wanted to. I play—played—the piano. That's it. That's all I ever wanted to do. I don't make the policies. I didn't cultivate my father's enemies. He was capable of doing that quite well all by himself. If he was accepting bribes, that was his business. I don't want any part of it."

"You're out of a job. You could have promised her what she wanted to hear, taken the check, and laughed about it all the way to the bank."

Josh gave him a cold, hostile stare. "You're full of shit, Cassidy. Get out."

"Not so fast. You were in there for more than half an hour. Is that all you and Claire talked about?"

"There were a lot of awkward silences."

"Oh, come on!"

"I'm serious. Once she got to the point, it was over in a matter of minutes. She picked up the pieces of the check, put them in her purse, and laid down enough money to cover our drinks. As we left, she said goodbye. That's all."

"You paused on the sidewalk as though you were tempted to go after her."

Josh raked back the wave that had fallen over his forehead. "I don't remember that."

"I do. Distinctly." Cassidy leaned forward. "Were you having second thoughts about taking the money?"

"No. I'm not a murderer and I'm not a thief." Cassidy wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him. "There's something you're not telling me, Josh. I'm through screwing around with you. What are you holding back?"





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Chapter 24

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"She—"

"What?" Cassidy demanded.

"I don't know." Josh grimaced with frustration. "If I was staring at her as you say, it's because I wasn't only mad but puzzled."

"About what?"

"About her. She has a way about her, you know?"

"No, I don't know. Explain it to me."

"I don't think I can."

"Try."

"It was like she could see into me," he cried. "But I felt like I was looking at her through a veil. We were speaking the same language, but the words didn't fit the messages I was getting from her eyes. She freaked me out."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Actually he knew exactly what Josh was talking about. Every time he'd been with Claire, with the exception of those moments when she had openly and freely shared her passion with him, he'd felt totally exposed, while an essential element of Claire always remained masked. It was like looking into the screened face of a fencing opponent. You knew who it was, but you couldn't distinctly see him.