“I know a professional secretary who is proficient in shorthand,” Luther said. “Elena Torres manages the head office at the Burning Cove Hotel. Oliver Ward, the owner, says Mrs. Torres runs the entire hotel. Says he just tries to stay out of her way.”
“He sounds like a very smart man,” Lyra said. “A good secretary is the key to a successful business. My father often says he couldn’t run Brazier Shipping without his secretary, Mrs. Lee. Unfortunately, Father never made the leap to the obvious conclusion.”
Simon and Luther looked at her.
“What conclusion is that?” Simon asked.
He had the expression of a man who is unwillingly fascinated by the sight of a slow-moving train wreck, Lyra thought. Or maybe it was the look of a man who is standing on the tracks watching the train come toward him.
She smiled the smile she reserved for people who assumed she was not very bright. It was a smile that never failed to dazzle.
“What my father failed to realize is that a woman is fully capable of running Brazier Shipping,” she said.
“You?” Simon asked.
“Me.” She turned to Luther. “Let’s ask Mrs. Torres to consult for us.”
Chapter 10
Lyra Brazier was the woman he had hoped to find in Burning Cove. Damn near perfect, Simon decided. Sophisticated, modern—an interesting, spirited woman who was free to get involved in a short-term, no-strings-attached affair.
Perfect. Except she wasn’t, and he could not figure out why.
In theory she was exactly what he was looking for, but the reality was that she was proving to be complicated and unpredictable. He did not need a complicated and unpredictable woman in his life. On top of that obvious fact, it was clear she had concluded he was going to be a problem she would just as soon have done without.
Okay, he wasn’t the most diplomatic person in the world, but it wasn’t his fault that she stood out as the glaring new element in Raina Kirk’s life, the anomaly that disrupted the pattern. Facts were facts.
She was inexperienced in her new profession—she had been on the job at Kirk Investigations for a mere four days—but this afternoon she had displayed some insightful detective skills. She was the one who had picked up what might prove to be the first solid lead in the disappearanceof Raina Kirk. It was the reason they were gathered in the inner office of Oliver Ward, the owner of the Burning Cove Hotel.
“Miss Kirk was obviously taught the Gregg method in secretarial school.” Elena Torres examined the marks on the top sheet of the notepad Lyra had given her. “And I must say she has a very fine hand. But you need to understand that, over time, every professional develops a personal style of shorthand, one that incorporates her own shortcuts.”
“I know,” Lyra said. “My father’s secretary explained that to me when she showed me how she transcribes dictation. It was like reading and writing another language. Amazing. It was thanks to her that I realized the marks on that paper might be shorthand. Do you think you can make anything of them?”
“Yes, I’m sure I can,” Elena said. She picked up a secretarial pad and a pencil. “I’m a Gregg secretary, too.”
Simon stood quietly in the back of the room, arms folded, his briefcase at his feet. Oliver had given his chair to his secretary to use while she studied the notepad. He now had one shoulder propped against the wall. He gripped the handle of a cane in his left hand. Simon recognized the stance of a man who has dealt with pain for a long time.
Oliver had once been a famous magician who had nearly been killed onstage. Simon had never seen his act but he was well aware of the man’s legend. The dramatic end of Ward’s career had made headlines across the nation and around the world.
Ward’s wife, Irene, who had the crime beat for the local paper, had her own notebook at the ready. Luther had told her that they were going to need her help.
Luther himself was prowling the room. Simon had been doing odd jobs for him for a couple of years now, long enough to be aware that the restless pacing was out of character for him; evidence of a seething anxiety. Pell’s impatience was laced with a barely concealed frustration. He was using anger to overcome his fear that something terrible had happened to his lover.
Simon passed the time trying to analyze exactly why he did not want to take his eyes off Lyra. It was alarming to know she had realized so quickly that he had been immediately suspicious of her. Most people either ignored him entirely or dismissed him as a stodgy antiquarian book dealer until it was too late; until he had discovered their secrets.
He had spent the past two years cultivating his unimpressive image. Lyra had taken one look at him and known exactly what he was thinking.You don’t fit the pattern, Lyra Brazier.
That was true in too many ways.
She was striking, but not beautiful in the Hollywood mold. Her hazel gaze was intelligent and insightful, not soft, sultry, and seductive. He was no judge of women’s fashions but even he could tell she possessed the hard-to-define qualities of grace and style. She was the kind of woman who could light up a room when she walked into it—not because she was glamorous but simply because she was interested in everyone in the room and people responded to that energy.
The magic was that there was no magic, he thought. Lyra’s curiosity was genuine. He never ceased to be surprised by how rare that particular character trait was in both men and women. Most people were eager to talk about themselves, but their interest in others was too often limited to a consideration of how someone else might be of use or persuaded to climb into bed.
I may have gotten cynical.
Lyra should have been the cynical type. She was in a profession known for inspiring cynicism and a deep disappointment in human nature. Yet in spite of the serious circumstances they were investigating, she radiated a determined optimism that probably hinted at naïveté. He got the feeling she was one of those annoying individuals who always looked for the silver lining and refused to take a realistic view of people and situations.
Yet yesterday she had killed a man with a golf club and then danced the night away at a fashionable club.
