"What would you do if I said no? Threaten to divorce me? We both know that will never happen. You'd be penniless, Mathew, just like you were when I married you." She got up and started to walk to the closet, but Mathew grabbed her around the waist, held her tight, and looked her in the eye.

"How did your father find out, Laura? You must have told someone."

"I didn't tell anyone. I didn't have a name, remember? Who did you tell? Perhaps a little too much pillow talk, huh, Mathew? Did you promise some poor innocent girl you'd marry her once you got all that glorious money?" She pulled back hard until he finally released her. "Not getting your hands on my father's money serves you right. By the way, how did you come up with her name?"

"Whose name?"

"You know who I'm talking about. I might sign if you tell me."

He looked away for a moment and then looked back. "If you must know, it was the name of a girl I loved in high school."

"Really?" You actually loved someone? Do you pine for her still?"

"No…she died."

When it got silent in Laura's bedroom, Teresa decided to leave before one of them came storming out. She hurried down the hall and the stairs, and then went to the kitchen. She was suddenly hungry.

*

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"Tell me again why we are taking this case?" Carl asked. Carl Kingsley didn't consider himself much of a detective. Mostly, he kept the equipment running and piloted the Learjet that transported them from place to place. Normally, he was the last to arrive at each hotel, after making sure the jet was serviced and safely parked at the airport.

Jackie Harlan, owner of the Harlan Detective Agency, was a striking woman and she was all business. She was dressed in a maroon skirt, matching jacket, and a white blouse. She wore nylons and high heels, had auburn hair, and possessed blue eyes that some said could see right through a man.

"Because the fee Austin Steel has agreed to pay is exorbitant." She checked her hair in the mirror and then put her compact back in her purse.

"Oh," said Carl.

The suite they were using as an office for this assignment, offered a view of several tall buildings with the Rocky Mountains in the distance. Standing at the living room window and looking straight down, Carl could see a plaza with a one-way street on both sides, and a large fountain in the center.

Slouching on the sofa, Michael Sorenson was a laidback sort of guy, with thick brown hair and gold rim glasses. He was also shorter than most men, which galled him no end. In fact, he was an inch shorter than Jackie, even after she took her high heels off. "Exorbitant pay is good, very good."




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