The Lady Has a Past (Burning Cove #5) - Amanda Quick Page 0,86
hidden beneath a steel plate that opened easily once he found the slight indentation that activated the spring mechanism. He pulled his stethoscope out of his briefcase.
“You know, you could have been a successful burglar,” Luther remarked.
“I am a successful burglar. The only difference between me and my competition is that I work for you.”
“That is one way of looking at it.”
Simon got the safe open. There were a large envelope and a handful of small jars of chemicals inside. He took out the envelope and gave it to Luther, who opened it.
“Prints and negatives,” Luther said. He sounded satisfied. “Same photos we found in Billingsley’s suite.”
“Guppy gave Billingsley a set of prints to keep him satisfied. She kept the negatives. I’m sure she knew Billingsley was unstable.”
“We’ve got what we came for. Let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day. I think we all need a drink.”
Chapter 41
Raina took a sip of her martini and set the glass down with exquisite care. She had to move cautiously, because the occasional bouts of shivering came out of nowhere and washed through her in unpredictable waves.
Luther was sitting close beside her. Evidently sensing her tension, he touched her knee under the table in a silent attempt to reassure her. She raised her chin, took a steadying breath, and looked at the three people who were sharing the booth with her. Luther and Simon and Lyra were waiting for an explanation, but she literally did not know where to begin. Words failed her.
As usual, however, words did not fail Lyra. She swallowed some of her sidecar and cast a disgusted glare around the bar of the Labyrinth Springs Hotel.
“I can’t believe we’re going to spend another night in this horrid place,” she said. “All because of that storm. Gerald was right. It would have been very dangerous to try to get out of this valley and through the mountain pass tonight.”
The heavy rains had arrived that afternoon, churning up mud and creating flash floods that made driving next to impossible.
Luther raised his brows. “Who is Gerald?”
Simon answered, his tone very dry, “The waiter who just brought us our drinks. I told you, everyone talks to Lyra.”
“He was also kind enough to warn us against the soup,” Lyra added. “Apparently the fish that was going bad the other night ended up in it.”
“None of us is in any condition to drive, anyway,” Luther pointed out. “We all need rest.”
“I was afraid the hotel might shut down suddenly, stranding us and the rest of the guests,” Lyra said. “But Gerald told me that the front desk got a phone call from the law firm in New York that handles the Billingsley estate. The lawyer instructed everyone to remain on duty until they could get someone out here to assess the situation. He said the staff will receive regular wages until a decision has been made. That is very good news for Gerald and the others who work here. They still have jobs.”
“If they’re smart, they will all start looking for other jobs tomorrow,” Luther said. “I predict the resort won’t last long now that the spa is closed.”
Lyra made a face. “You’re probably right.”
Raina began to relax a little as the easy conversation flowed around her. She was among friends.
She finally found her voice.
“I owe the three of you more than I can ever repay,” she said.
“You don’t owe me anything,” Luther said, his voice a little too cold and flat.
She realized he was offended; no, more than offended. He was hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what else to say. What happened is my fault. Everything is my fault. I put all of you at risk.”
“Right,” Lyra said. “And speaking for myself, I can tell you that this case has been a real learning experience for me.”
Raina looked at her. “You and me both.”
Luther’s eyes narrowed. “No more taking off on your own without an explanation or a proper good-bye. You do owe me that much.”
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
She grabbed the cocktail napkin and dabbed at the tears leaking from her eyes. Luther put an arm around her and pulled her close against him.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just that I’ve been so damned scared.”
“I know.” She dried her eyes and straightened, recovering her composure. “You may not want my gratitude, but you have a right to an explanation, and I intend to provide it.”