Eye of the Beholder (22 page)

G
uy Jones finally got out of bed, wondering if he’d ever really fallen asleep. He turned on the coffeepot, then stepped into a hot shower, his mind racing and last night’s pizza feeling like a brick in his stomach.

What would Ellen think of what he was about to do—and what he was paying Duncan Manning to do?

“The thing I love about our relationship,”
Ellen had said,
“is that we share everything. I’m so blessed being married to a man I totally trust.”

Being dishonest with her wasn’t the only thing bothering him. How willing was he to swallow his pride and admit to her that another friend he had perceived to be a class act was completely messed up?

Guy stepped out of the shower and dried off, then wrapped the bath towel around his waist and went out to the desk. He poured a cup of coffee and took the first sip just as his room phone rang. He noticed the red light was blinking.

“Hello.”

“Why didn’t you call last night?” Ellen said.

Oh, boy
. “Sorry, honey. I got in late and was afraid I might wake you.” The lie nipped at his conscience.

“Guy, is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Well, it would sure be nice if you’d let
me
know that. Why didn’t you return my calls?”

“What calls?

“I left a message at the Holiday Inn Express and three messages on your cell phone.”

“When?”

Ellen’s voice went up an octave. “The first at the Holiday Inn at seven and the other three on your cell phone late—after midnight. When you didn’t call back, I lay awake imagining all sorts of awful things.”

“Hold on.” Guy reached over and picked up his cell phone. “My fault, honey. I accidentally turned off my cell, but I never even noticed the red light blinking on the room phone. Sorry. My mind’s on overload. I didn’t even think to check.”

“Oh … then it
is
possible that one could care about another and still not think to check for messages?”

“Fair enough, Ellen, you made your point. You going to let it go or do I have to hear about it ad nauseum?”

“I’m not going to turn the knife. All I ask is a little consideration. You just took ten years off my life. Please don’t do that again.”

“I won’t. I’m really sorry.”

“Did you hire a bodyguard?”

“Not yet. It’s all I can do just to get my work done. I’m not sure you realize how heavily I rely on Kinsey’s help. The temp’s okay, but I have to get her used to the way I do things, and it’s really slowing me down.”

There was an uncomfortable stretch of dead air.

“Ellen, I promise I’ll look into it as soon as I can. It’s not as though I can just hire someone over the phone. There’s an interview process involved.”

“Then
make
time, Counselor.”

“Don’t forget there’s a security guard at the office—and there’ll be one at the apartment. I should be able to move in tonight.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Everything’s fine. Would you please stop worrying?”

“Then make yourself accessible.”

“I promise not to leave you hanging like that again. Listen, I need to get going. I’ve got a full calendar.”

“All right. You’re in my prayers. I love you. Be safe.”

“Love you, too.”

Guy hung up the phone and turned on his cell phone. He cleared Ellen’s messages and wondered if it was too early to check with Duncan. He decided he didn’t have time to worry about it and pushed the auto dial.

“Yeah,” said a sleepy voice.

“Duncan, it’s Guy. Were you asleep?”

“Apparently. What time is it?”

“Six-forty.”

“Then it’s time I got up. I’ve had my four hours.”

Guy went over and sat on the side of the bed. “So did you satisfy your curiosity?”

“I told you I’d call when I had something. I need more time.”

“How much time? Kinsey’s going to call me today and expect me to meet her with fifteen thousand dollars. I need to allow time to get it together.”

There was a long pause.

“What’s wrong?” Guy said.

“I think you should hold off giving Kinsey the money … just till I check something out.”

“Can you check it out this morning?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna try.”

“What’s the big mystery?”

“I’m not convinced Blakely’s a loan shark.”

“You think Kinsey lied to me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Guy spent the morning going through his inbox and working with Marsha. He was already drained, and Kinsey hadn’t called.
Neither had Duncan. He had a short window to get the money, eat lunch, and get back for a meeting with a client. He got up from his desk, emptied out a zippered portfolio, and went out to Kinsey’s desk where Marsha was typing.

“I’ll be out of the office for about an hour. Take messages. If my sister calls, tell her to call again at noon.”

“Yes, sir,” Marsha said. “Don’t forget your meetings at one and three.”

“Thanks. Call me on my cell if anything comes up.”

Guy left the building and drove to the bank. He walked in the front door, relieved to see the teller who had waited on him a number of times he’d made deposits.

He approached her window, a smile on his face. “Hi, Terri, it’s nice to see your cheery face.”

“What can I do for you today, Mr. Jones?”

“I’d like to withdraw the money I’ve been saving for the cruise I’ve been planning for my wife.”

“Sure. I can help you with that.” Terri reached under the counter and seemed to be groping for something. “Remind me where it is you’re going.”

“Spain, Portugal, France, Monaco, and Italy. It’s going to be fabulous.”

“I envy you. I took an excursion once from Key West to the Tortugas, but never a cruise. Okay, let me get you to fill out this form. We always do this when the amount of the withdrawal is over ten thousand dollars. How do you want the cash?”

“Hundreds would be fine.” Guy took the form from Terri and stood filling it out while she got the money together. He glanced around the bank, glad that no one seemed to be paying any attention. It was his money. Why did he feel as though he were doing something illegal?

Terri counted out a dozen stacks of ten one-hundred dollar bills while he watched, then put it in the portfolio and handed him the receipt. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Actually, there is. I’d like to add three-thousand dollars to this by making a cash withdrawal on my credit card.”

“All right. No problem.”

He handed Terri his Visa card, and she worked up the transaction and handed him the papers to sign.

Terri put her hand over her heart. “I hope your wife appreciates you. This is
so
sweet.” She counted out thirty one-hundred-dollar bills, put them in a money folder, and slipped it into the portfolio.

Guy zipped the portfolio and gave Terri the warmest smile he could muster. “It’s been fun having you get excited about this trip with me. Maybe I’ll bring in pictures when we get back.”

“I’d love that.”

Guy put the portfolio under his arm and walked out of the bank, feeling like a target carrying around that much cash. Why hadn’t Kinsey called? It’s not as though he could just drop everything and meet her whenever she wanted. He went over to his Mercedes, put the portfolio in the trunk, and slammed it shut.

He glanced at his watch. No time for lunch out—maybe he’d get a sandwich to go.

At twelve forty-five, Guy sat in his office, preparing for his one o’clock meeting. Neither Kinsey nor Duncan had called. What was he going to do if either of them called while he was with a client? How he hated not being in control of the situation!

He got up from his desk and walked out of the law offices and past the security guard. He walked to the end of the hall and around the corner toward the restrooms.

All of a sudden he sensed someone closing in behind him, then a sharp pressure in the middle of his back.

“Just keep walking,” a male voice said. “Don’t even think about makin’ a sound or I’ll run you through. Go out the door to the stairwell.”

Guy opened the exit door and stepped into the stairwell. In the next instant, he was in a headlock with a knife blade pressed against his carotid artery.

“Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” The man’s voice was deep and raspy. “Well, it’s going to cost you—
big.”

“What’re … you … talking about?” Guy could hardly breathe.

“You tell your girlfriend the price just doubled. She’s got twenty-four hours, then I’m going to cut her into little pieces.”

Suddenly Guy was shoved toward the stairs. He grabbed the railing with one hand and felt his body twist around, his back slamming against the wall, his legs sprawled on the staircase. He heard the exit door close.

He started to get up, but his vision was fuzzy and his skin clammy. He sat on the steps, his heart pounding, and put his head between his legs and took slow, deep breaths. When he was sure he wasn’t going to pass out, he slowly got to his feet, his hands shaking, and brushed the dirt off his suit.

His cell phone rang and he fumbled to get it out of his shirt pocket. “Hello.”

“It’s Duncan. I was right. Blakely’s not a loan shark.”

Guy splashed water on his face, then combed his hands through his hair. He left the men’s room and walked down the hall toward the law offices, wondering if he could refocus enough to get through his one o’clock appointment. He thought about calling the police but decided against it. If the police made the wrong move, Kinsey might end up dead in some back alley. Why hadn’t she called? He needed to at least tell her what Duncan had said, and let her speak for herself.

Guy nodded at the security guard and opened the door of the law offices. Marsha got up and walked toward him, a panicked look on her face. “The men are here for your one o’clock. They’re waiting in your conference room.”

“Okay, thanks. I need you to call my three o’clock and cancel. See if you can reschedule next week.”

“Shall I give a reason why, sir?”

Guy tried to mask his impatience. “Just tell them I asked you to.”

He turned and went in the room adjacent to his office. He forced a pleasant demeanor and shook hands with three men who were already seated at a round table. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve got your contract right here.”

Guy sat in an empty chair and handed each man a copy of a lengthy contract he had drawn up, then went through the major points one-by-one, relieved each time the men nodded that they understood. He glanced at his watch and realized it was ten after two.

“Do you have any questions?” Guy asked.

One of the men asked him to elaborate further on section four. Guy went through it again, line by line, feeling almost as if someone else were speaking. “Is that clear now?”
Please say yes so I can get out of here
.

The man nodded. “Much clearer, thanks.”

“Anything else …? All right, then,” Guy rose to his feet, “I’ll have the final papers drawn up and call you as soon as they’re ready to sign.”

He shook hands with the men, then accompanied them to the front door, hoping he didn’t seem overly eager to dismiss them. When they were gone, he walked back to Marsha’s desk.

“Did you cancel my three o’clock?”

“Yes, sir. I rescheduled it for three on Monday.”

“Thanks. I’m going to be out the rest of the afternoon. Take messages. Oh … and if my sister calls, tell her I need to hear from her right away. Be sure she has my cell phone number.”

 22
 

G
uy Jones pulled into a parking space at Holbrook Park. He turned off the motor and watched the children romping on the playground. What he wouldn’t give to feel safe and secure!
Lord, give me wisdom
.

How long should he wait before going to the police? It seemed smarter to confront Kinsey first and find out whether or not Duncan was right. Going to the police too soon could get her killed.

The thug’s words kept replaying in his head.
Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you? It’s going to cost you. You tell your girlfriend the price just doubled. She’s got twenty-four hours, then I’m going to cut her into little pieces
. What would make the man think Kinsey was his girlfriend?