The Lady Has a Past (Burning Cove #5) - Amanda Quick Page 0,92

the Los Angeles area,” she said. “It was on the radio, too.” She poured three cups of coffee and handed one to Raina. “Something about special agents of the FBI working undercover to help the local police break up a drug ring operating out of the hotel and spa. There was no mention of the kidnappings or the victims. I don’t mind telling you that I feel as if I can breathe again.”

“We can both breathe again,” Raina said. She smiled. “Luther has a gift for you.”

Angela looked at Luther, hardly daring to hope. “You found the photos?”

“And the negatives,” Luther said. He handed her an envelope. “I destroyed the others but I thought you might like to burn these yourself.”

Angela took the envelope. Tears burned in her eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t owe me any thanks,” Luther said. “I am in your debt. The information you gave me helped us find Miss Kirk in time. They were preparing to kill her. The last time I was here I told you that if you ever need a favor of the sort that I can provide, you have only to ask. That offer stands.”

Angela gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you.”

They drank coffee together while Luther and Raina gave her the details of the events in Labyrinth Springs.

Forty minutes later Angela stood on the doorstep and watched Luther get into one of the two speedsters parked at the curb. Raina got into the other vehicle. Both cars pulled away and drove off down the street.

Going home to Burning Cove.

When the cars disappeared around the corner Angela went back inside the cold mansion and headed for the kitchen. She dumped the negatives and the two sets of prints into the sink and went back into the living room to get Bradley’s gold-plated cigarette lighter.

She returned to the kitchen and set fire to each print. Then she burned the negatives. When the ashes cooled she collected them and took them into the bathroom to flush down the toilet.

Afterward she went into her bedroom and packed up the essentials. She ignored the clothes and shoes that had been purchased with the goal of entertaining Bradley’s business associates and political friends.

She was hoisting the last suitcase into the trunk of her car when Bradley pulled into the driveway. He climbed out of his speedster and started toward the front door.

“I just came home to change clothes,” he said over his shoulder. “Got an important meeting at the L.A. office.”

“Take your time,” Angela said. “I won’t be here when you get back.”

“What?” Startled, he turned around in time to see her shut the lid of the trunk on the four suitcases inside. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Reno. Six weeks from now I’ll be a single, legally divorced woman. I’ll be out of your life forever. You can finance your own political campaign.”

Bradley stared at her, stricken. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, and there’s no need to worry about the photos or the negatives. I burned them a couple of hours ago. In case you didn’t see the morning papers, the kidnappers are dead. They won’t be bothering you.”

“You can’t just leave like this,” Bradley said.

“Watch me.”

She got behind the wheel of the car, turned the key in the ignition, and drove away from the cold house. She glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Bradley standing, slack-jawed, in the driveway. The look of shock on his face made her smile. She turned the corner.

Time to find a real home.

Chapter 46

I borrowed these from the library,” Irene said. She put copies of two popular fashion magazines on Raina’s desk and opened each one to a feature article about Guppy’s House of Beauty. “Edith Guppy showed up in New York toward the end of the Great War and opened Guppy’s House of Beauty less than a year later. She told everyone she was originally from Paris, but she was also fluent in German and English. She seemed to have plenty of money and implied she was connected to one of the old royal families.”

“Very cosmopolitan,” Raina said. “She was an attractive woman who must have been stunningly beautiful in her younger days. Her looks combined with her sense of style and a sophisticated continental accent no doubt made it easy for her to attract an upper-class clientele in New York.”

The small crowd gathered around her desk included Luther, Simon, and Irene and Oliver Ward. The only one missing was Lyra. She had left shortly before