On the other hand, my last job as a secretary nearly got me killed.
It was a moot question, because Lyra had no secretarial skills. She had not been trained to type or take shorthand. In any event, although she was happy to do anything asked of her, she had made it quite clear she wanted to become a full-fledged investigator.
Raina put down the paper and got to her feet to pour herself a second cup of coffee. For a moment she stood at the kitchen counter, contemplating the bright California dawn.
Luther was right, she decided. She should let Lyra make her own decision.
She went back to the kitchen table and turned the page to read the list of celebrities who had been seen checking into the Burning Cove Hotel. It was always good to know who was in town. Sometimes film stars who wished to have discreet investigations conducted preferred to hire someone who was not connected to the powerful studios. There were no secrets in Hollywood.
Things were different in Burning Cove. The studio fixers had very little power here. If you wanted something hushed up or discreetly buried in this town, you went to Luther Pell or Oliver Ward, the owner of the Burning Cove Hotel.
The phone rang at seven. Raina turned cold. Her palms tingled. No good news ever came over the phone at that hour of the day.
She got to her feet and plucked the receiver off the wall phone.
“Yes?”
The voice on the other end of the line belonged to a ghost, and as was the case with specters, it brought a warning. A body that had been safely buried had come out of the grave and wanted revenge. Raina forced herself to listen carefully.
“I understand,” she said.
The ghost hung up.
A wave of panic slammed through Raina.
Unthinking, driven by force of habit—secretarial training ran deep—she made a note on the small pad of paper that hung on the wall beside the phone. She certainly didn’t need the reminder. The ghost’s instructions were seared into her consciousness. But seeing the words written down made her realize she was not in the middle of an old nightmare. She was wide awake, and this was real.
She took a deep breath and fought back the wave of terror that threatened to choke her. She would not run, not this time. But one thing was blazingly clear. She could not put everyone she cared about in Burning Cove in danger. This threat came from her past. She would deal with it.
She collected her nerves and forced herself to think. When she felt she had the bare bones of a plan, she went upstairs to pack.
She started with the necessities—her pistol and an extra box of ammunition.
Chapter 6
Raina walked through the front door of the office dressed in stylish trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of lace-up sport shoes. Her hair was covered in a triangle silk scarf knotted under her chin. It was the sort of scarf a woman used when she went for a drive with the top down.
Lyra, seated at her desk, her aching head propped in her hands, struggled to hide her astonishment. Raina always came to work in fashionable, crisply tailored business suits and heels.
“Good morning,” Lyra said, trying to sound somewhat normal. “Coffee? I just made a pot.”
She was on her third cup that morning—the first two had been consumed at her kitchen table an hour ago. The caffeine combined with a hearty dose of aspirin was just starting to take the edge off the headache that had awakened her at dawn. She had not dared to risk breakfast. On the way to the office she had made a mental note to go easy on the champagne the next time she barely avoided getting murdered.
Raina appeared both startled and relieved to see her. “No coffee, thanks. I had a couple of cups at breakfast. So, you decided to come into the office today?”
“Of course.”
The fact that she had been seriously contemplating handing in her resignation was another matter entirely. She had not yet made the decision, which meant that, for the moment, she was a dedicated employee of Kirk Investigations.
Raina glanced at the elegant Bakelite pen tray, the green leather blotter, and the other stylish desk accessories that Lyra had purchased for her position as an apprentice investigator.
“I hope you didn’t come in just to pack up your things,” Raina said.
“Not unless you’re letting me go.” Lyra used one finger to nudge the copy of theBurning Cove Heraldon her desk. “I suppose you’ve seen the morning headlines?”
“Yes. Read the paper at breakfast. We’re fortunate that Irene Ward covered the story. She’s an excellent journalist. Got the facts right. She even managed to put in a nice mention of Kirk Investigations.”
“Why did you think I might not show up today, Raina?”
