Read Online Ask a Shadow to Dance by Linda George - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda George
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right? No more calling Candy and arranging dates for me behind my back. I’m going to break it off. As for finding someone else …”
Joe nodded, finishing off the po’boy. David had a third left but couldn’t eat another bite.
“I’ll tell Shawna. But you know what she’ll do.”
“I know. More blind dates. Can’t she give up and let me live my own life?”
“Shawna?”
“All right. I give up. I’ll move to Tahiti, where she can’t set me up every weekend with her girlfriends who have wonderful personalities and who sew their own clothes.”
“Pick Candy up at six-thirty. Greg and Lana will be there, so you’ll have someone else to talk to. Marilu has invited Phillip. Nice kid. How long have you known him?”
“I can’t remember. Good kid. Polite.” He’d have to have a talk with Marilu. Tonight.
David got home about five-thirty that afternoon. His emotions had been in turmoil all day, thinking about the upcoming confrontation with Candy and about bruises inflicted on Lisette by a barbarian named Andrew Westmoreland. David had wracked his brain, trying to figure out how she could disappear from the office. His efforts to locate Westmoreland had proven to be as fruitless as finding Jacob Morgan—or his munitions plant. Nothing made sense.
Why did Lisette come to the office wearing a flannel nightgown? Barefooted? If Andrew Westmoreland was Lisette’s stepson, her husband must be Andrew’s father. She’d been wearing black on the boat. Did that mean her husband was dead? She’d said she was living with her father and aunt now. And what about the name she’d used, referring to the riverboat? The Cajun Star . He’d have to call the Riverboat Line and ask if their boat had ever been known by that name. Jim would know. Or Captain Dale.
Lisette promised to come to the Peabody tomorrow at noon. He had no intention of allowing her to disappear again. He’d insist on meeting her father, then be sure Jacob Morgan was fully informed about Westmoreland. If he was ill—she’d mentioned something about an affliction—David would offer his services. So many questions. And not one reasonable answer for any of them.
He settled into his favorite chair for a few minutes, a recliner aptly labeled a Catnapper when he’d bought it. It was so comfortable he often fell asleep there and spent most of the night catnapping. Tonight, though, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable and couldn’t relax. In the winter a fire in the fireplace was extremely relaxing. With overnight temperatures hovering in the fifties, it was still too warm for a fire, and he didn’t want to listen to music. His mind raged with the memory of Lisette’s bruised flesh.
He realized, suddenly, he was out of the chair, pacing from one end of the den to the other, from the bookshelves on the far end to the desk piled high with files he’d brought home, all the way to the kitchen door and back again. This was getting him nowhere. He had to pick Candy up in half an hour. He went to the bedroom to change clothes and wash up a bit before leaving again. Tonight he’d get Joe into the study and tell him everything. David had to confide in someone.
Candy was dressed in blue—his favorite color—wearing Chanel No. 5—his favorite perfume. They made small talk until Joe’s house. Once there, David left her talking to Shawna and tried to get Joe alone. Before they could get away, though, Greg and Lana arrived with the grand announcement.
“We’re getting married!” Lana’s wide grin spotlighted David and Candy. He refused to look at Candy, knowing what he’d see. They congratulated them and held out their glasses for champagne. David took one sip then traded it for scotch and water.
Marilu and Phillip disappeared into the den to listen to what Joe called “their music.” David didn’t think it half bad, and Joe admitted he didn’t, either, but he couldn’t let Marilu think her old man liked the same music. She’d be mortified
Joe nodded, finishing off the po’boy. David had a third left but couldn’t eat another bite.
“I’ll tell Shawna. But you know what she’ll do.”
“I know. More blind dates. Can’t she give up and let me live my own life?”
“Shawna?”
“All right. I give up. I’ll move to Tahiti, where she can’t set me up every weekend with her girlfriends who have wonderful personalities and who sew their own clothes.”
“Pick Candy up at six-thirty. Greg and Lana will be there, so you’ll have someone else to talk to. Marilu has invited Phillip. Nice kid. How long have you known him?”
“I can’t remember. Good kid. Polite.” He’d have to have a talk with Marilu. Tonight.
David got home about five-thirty that afternoon. His emotions had been in turmoil all day, thinking about the upcoming confrontation with Candy and about bruises inflicted on Lisette by a barbarian named Andrew Westmoreland. David had wracked his brain, trying to figure out how she could disappear from the office. His efforts to locate Westmoreland had proven to be as fruitless as finding Jacob Morgan—or his munitions plant. Nothing made sense.
Why did Lisette come to the office wearing a flannel nightgown? Barefooted? If Andrew Westmoreland was Lisette’s stepson, her husband must be Andrew’s father. She’d been wearing black on the boat. Did that mean her husband was dead? She’d said she was living with her father and aunt now. And what about the name she’d used, referring to the riverboat? The Cajun Star . He’d have to call the Riverboat Line and ask if their boat had ever been known by that name. Jim would know. Or Captain Dale.
Lisette promised to come to the Peabody tomorrow at noon. He had no intention of allowing her to disappear again. He’d insist on meeting her father, then be sure Jacob Morgan was fully informed about Westmoreland. If he was ill—she’d mentioned something about an affliction—David would offer his services. So many questions. And not one reasonable answer for any of them.
He settled into his favorite chair for a few minutes, a recliner aptly labeled a Catnapper when he’d bought it. It was so comfortable he often fell asleep there and spent most of the night catnapping. Tonight, though, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable and couldn’t relax. In the winter a fire in the fireplace was extremely relaxing. With overnight temperatures hovering in the fifties, it was still too warm for a fire, and he didn’t want to listen to music. His mind raged with the memory of Lisette’s bruised flesh.
He realized, suddenly, he was out of the chair, pacing from one end of the den to the other, from the bookshelves on the far end to the desk piled high with files he’d brought home, all the way to the kitchen door and back again. This was getting him nowhere. He had to pick Candy up in half an hour. He went to the bedroom to change clothes and wash up a bit before leaving again. Tonight he’d get Joe into the study and tell him everything. David had to confide in someone.
Candy was dressed in blue—his favorite color—wearing Chanel No. 5—his favorite perfume. They made small talk until Joe’s house. Once there, David left her talking to Shawna and tried to get Joe alone. Before they could get away, though, Greg and Lana arrived with the grand announcement.
“We’re getting married!” Lana’s wide grin spotlighted David and Candy. He refused to look at Candy, knowing what he’d see. They congratulated them and held out their glasses for champagne. David took one sip then traded it for scotch and water.
Marilu and Phillip disappeared into the den to listen to what Joe called “their music.” David didn’t think it half bad, and Joe admitted he didn’t, either, but he couldn’t let Marilu think her old man liked the same music. She’d be mortified
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