The Lady Has a Past (Burning Cove #5) - Amanda Quick Page 0,95

But somewhere along Route 66 I finally got a chance to examine the files.”

“Blackmail materials?” Simon suggested.

“In most cases, yes,” Raina said. “I hate blackmailers. I burned almost all the files that night. But one folder contained a list. It was meaningless to me but I knew it had to be important. I saved it.”

“What happened to it?” Irene asked.

Raina hesitated.

“She gave it to me,” Luther said. “It’s a list of names, but none of the people involved in this case are on it.”

“Names get changed,” Simon said.

“I know,” Luther said. “But it’s going to take a lot of time to track down every name on the list and try to find out if that person hired Guppy to kidnap Raina.”

“Sounds more likely that Guppy was Janus,” Oliver said. “Maybe she thought Enright had a file on her and that Raina had it.”

“She was afraid Raina knew too much and grabbed her to silence her,” Irene offered. “If that’s what happened, the case is closed. Guppy is dead.”

Luther’s jaw tightened. “There is one other detail I remember about that particular agent. She was given the code name Janus for a reason.”

“Because she was two-faced?” Raina asked. “That’s the definition of a spy, isn’t it?”

“Not in this case,” Luther said. “She was named Janus because we suspected she worked with a partner.”

A disturbing intensity heated Simon’s eyes. “We need to go back to the beginning of this thing.”

“The phone call from Guppy that sent me to Labyrinth Springs?” Raina suggested.

“That wasn’t the beginning,” Simon said. “You told us Lyra had some personal business to take care of this morning.”

“That’s right.” Raina glanced at her watch. “She should be back soon.”

“Do you know where she went?” Simon asked.

“Yes,” Raina said.

She told them where Lyra had gone. Even as she said the words out loud she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stir.

“We’ve been ignoring the very big coincidence at the start of this case,” Simon said.

He headed swiftly for the door. Raina and the others followed.

Chapter 47

Lyra brought her little speedster to a stop in the front drive of the Adlington villa. She sat behind the wheel for a moment, recalling her first visit to the big house. The memory of the sickening crunch she had heard and felt when the golf club struck Charles Adlington’s head shivered through her.

And then she thought about the terrible shock that had hit her when she led Detective Brandon and his officers around the house to the pool and saw the bloody golf club lying in a different position on the patio.

She’d had another nightmare about the scene during the night and had awakened, pulse pounding, in the midst of an anxiety attack. Simon had held her close, offering comfort and common sense. Raina’s words had whispered through her. You did what you had to do to save yourself and Marcella Adlington.

But neither of them could answer the question that haunted her. Was I the one who killed him? Or was it you, Marcella? Did you hit him again and again with that club because he showed signs of life? I just need to know the truth.

She opened the car door, got out, and reached back to pick up her handbag. She was not dressed in the severe business suit she had worn the first time she had come to the house. Today she had on a pair of light gray, high-waisted trousers, a tailored, long-sleeved white shirt, and lace-up shoes. This was not a meet-the-client visit. This was about getting some answers.

She walked to the front door, paused a moment to collect her nerve, and clanged the big brass door knocker. Twice.

She heard crisp footsteps in the hall. The door opened. Marcella Adlington smiled at her.

“Come in, Miss Brazier.”

“Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice,” Lyra said. She moved into a formal foyer covered in terra-cotta-colored tiles. “I won’t take up much of your time. I realize you’re leaving Burning Cove today.”

“Yes. My suitcases are in the trunk of my car. I sent my housekeeper home after she packed my things. I prefer to close up the house myself, to make sure all the doors and windows are locked.”

“I understand.”

“Let’s go into the living room. I’ve made tea.”

Marcella led the way into a high-ceilinged room furnished in the Spanish Colonial style that was so popular in Burning Cove. A pair of saddle-brown leather sofas sat on either side of a carved wooden coffee table. A large