you correctly when they print a retraction of today's story."
"Can you make them retract it?"
"I'm going to try. I'm not worried about being stalked by Pete's killers, but I don't want people contacting me for help in locating their missing relatives. Just think of all the runaways in the country. If parents thought I could find their kids, I'd be besieged with heartrending requests."
"I'd never thought of that."
Aubrey gestured toward the books that surrounded him. "It looks as though you've been busy."
Before Jesse could respond, they were interrupted by the doorbell. "Better let me get that," he warned.
"My number's not listed in the telephone book. There's no way someone could have found my home address unless I'd given it to them."
"I found it, didn't I?" Convinced she might be in real danger, Jesse followed Aubrey from the room. "Look to see who it is before you open the door."
"Worry wart," Aubrey complained, but she ducked into the living room to catch a glimpse of the visitor through one of the front windows. "Relax; we're not under attack."
Not wanting to intrude, Jesse hung back, thinking she would invite the caller to come in, but she didn't. He could hear a man's voice and, curious as to who he might be, he stepped down into the living room so he could also get a look at him through the window.
There was a new black BMW parked out front, and the dark-haired man on the doorstep looked as if he could easily afford to drive it. In Jesse's opinion, he looked too perfect, and he supposed the guy was a bank president or held some other suffocating executive job that required him to look like he had just stepped off the cover of Gentleman 's Quarterly. Just the thought of wearing a suit and tie
made Jesse gag. As Aubrey's voice took on a strident note, he was inspired to come to her defense no matter what had caused the argument between her and her well-dressed caller.
With a devilish chuckle, he tugged his shirttail out of his Levi's and with a yank, unfastened the mother of pearl snaps. Then, certain he was showing off enough bare chest to provoke the man if he had a romantic interest in Aubrey, he walked up behind her.
"You have some kind of a problem here, honey?" he asked nonchalantly. He rested his left arm on the doorjamb and struck a casual pose.
Aubrey knew exactly what Jesse was doing, and why, but it was scarcely called for in this instance. 'Jesse Barrett, I'd like you to meet my ex-husband, Larry Stafford. Larry was just admiring your photo in the paper, but I'm certain he's thrilled to meet you in person."
Jesse stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he lied without the least effort to sound sincere. He was shocked by how handsome a man Larry was, but his eyes were so cold a gray they reminded him of marbles. He had never met a man with such a frosty gaze.
In return, Larry Stafford studied Jesse with a contemptuous glance that focused first on his casual apparel and then on his hairy chest. He grasped Jesse's hand only briefly and then cut him out of the conversation as though he didn't exist. He was holding the Metro section of the Times and shook it as he continued to argue with Aubrey.
"I don't know why I'm surprised by this, but for some reason I thought you'd have more sense than to become involved in crimes the police are unable to solve. Do you plan to begin reading palms next?"
Aubrey had very little patience where Larry was concerned, and he had already exhausted it. She straightened
up proudly. "You no longer have a say in anything I do. How many times must I remind you of that?"
"You ought to be grateful that I don't charge you for my advice/'
"I wouldn't pay the bill if you did," Aubrey responded smugly.
Delighted Aubrey could hold her own with her obnoxious ex, Jesse began to laugh. "Actually, we're thinking of franchising a string of tarot card parlors. Perhaps you'd like to invest. They're sure to be a veritable gold mine and you obviously have expensive
"Can you make them retract it?"
"I'm going to try. I'm not worried about being stalked by Pete's killers, but I don't want people contacting me for help in locating their missing relatives. Just think of all the runaways in the country. If parents thought I could find their kids, I'd be besieged with heartrending requests."
"I'd never thought of that."
Aubrey gestured toward the books that surrounded him. "It looks as though you've been busy."
Before Jesse could respond, they were interrupted by the doorbell. "Better let me get that," he warned.
"My number's not listed in the telephone book. There's no way someone could have found my home address unless I'd given it to them."
"I found it, didn't I?" Convinced she might be in real danger, Jesse followed Aubrey from the room. "Look to see who it is before you open the door."
"Worry wart," Aubrey complained, but she ducked into the living room to catch a glimpse of the visitor through one of the front windows. "Relax; we're not under attack."
Not wanting to intrude, Jesse hung back, thinking she would invite the caller to come in, but she didn't. He could hear a man's voice and, curious as to who he might be, he stepped down into the living room so he could also get a look at him through the window.
There was a new black BMW parked out front, and the dark-haired man on the doorstep looked as if he could easily afford to drive it. In Jesse's opinion, he looked too perfect, and he supposed the guy was a bank president or held some other suffocating executive job that required him to look like he had just stepped off the cover of Gentleman 's Quarterly. Just the thought of wearing a suit and tie
made Jesse gag. As Aubrey's voice took on a strident note, he was inspired to come to her defense no matter what had caused the argument between her and her well-dressed caller.
With a devilish chuckle, he tugged his shirttail out of his Levi's and with a yank, unfastened the mother of pearl snaps. Then, certain he was showing off enough bare chest to provoke the man if he had a romantic interest in Aubrey, he walked up behind her.
"You have some kind of a problem here, honey?" he asked nonchalantly. He rested his left arm on the doorjamb and struck a casual pose.
Aubrey knew exactly what Jesse was doing, and why, but it was scarcely called for in this instance. 'Jesse Barrett, I'd like you to meet my ex-husband, Larry Stafford. Larry was just admiring your photo in the paper, but I'm certain he's thrilled to meet you in person."
Jesse stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he lied without the least effort to sound sincere. He was shocked by how handsome a man Larry was, but his eyes were so cold a gray they reminded him of marbles. He had never met a man with such a frosty gaze.
In return, Larry Stafford studied Jesse with a contemptuous glance that focused first on his casual apparel and then on his hairy chest. He grasped Jesse's hand only briefly and then cut him out of the conversation as though he didn't exist. He was holding the Metro section of the Times and shook it as he continued to argue with Aubrey.
"I don't know why I'm surprised by this, but for some reason I thought you'd have more sense than to become involved in crimes the police are unable to solve. Do you plan to begin reading palms next?"
Aubrey had very little patience where Larry was concerned, and he had already exhausted it. She straightened
up proudly. "You no longer have a say in anything I do. How many times must I remind you of that?"
"You ought to be grateful that I don't charge you for my advice/'
"I wouldn't pay the bill if you did," Aubrey responded smugly.
Delighted Aubrey could hold her own with her obnoxious ex, Jesse began to laugh. "Actually, we're thinking of franchising a string of tarot card parlors. Perhaps you'd like to invest. They're sure to be a veritable gold mine and you obviously have expensive
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