GODDESS OF THE MOON (A Diana Racine Psychic Suspense) (29 page)

“You were right. Tell me, do I come across as an arrogant charlatan?”


T
he Brother Osiris bit might be a little much, but I can relate. Remember, you’re talking to someone who’s spent the last twenty years of her life entertaining
to make a living
. We use whatever works.”

“I hope I don’t rise to the level of entertainer―no offense intended―but
I hope I’m a bit more subtle
.
T
hat covers the charlatan part
; wh
at about arrogant?”

“How much truth can you handle, Edward?”

“Now I’m afraid to say anything
you
might misconstrue, but your opinion matters.”

Diana couldn’t help smiling at how cautiously both she and Slater measured their words. She always prescribed to the idea that if someone asked her a question, they deserved an honest answer.

“Okay, you’re very sure of yourself. I don’t know if that
rises to
the level of arrogance, but it’s close. Lately, I’ve been right there with you.
My behavior to Silas Compton the other night
made you look like an amateur. You
called it
. I was baiting him.
I
f that’s not arrogance, I don’t know what is.” Diana paused. “Let’s
change the subject
. You’re sorry
;
I’m sorry. We have a lot in common, and if we have any relationship at all,
how about
call
ing
it a budding friendship
?
I’m not interested in anything
more,
and neither are you. You’re an interesting man, and you’ve confided in me, as a friend, personal facts about your life. We’ll go from there.”

“Sounds good.
How about I invite you to the mission for lunch to make
amends?
I
’ve hired
a new cook who does a mean down-home meatloaf. Best I ever tasted. It isn’t Emeril’s but it doesn’t cost as much either. Besides, I have something to tell you, something to show you, and something to give you.”

She could hear the smile in his words
and found herself smiling in return
. “Sounds like triple intrigue. What time?”

“Noon?
And don’t
worry,
we’ll have lunch in the office.”

“Eating family
-
style wouldn’t bother me. I’ve done it plenty of times. See you at noon.”

Diana hung up and debated calling Lucier.
He didn’t see Edward Slater objectively. She wondered if she did
.

* * * * *

L
ucier made an appointment to
meet
Compton at his downtown
headquarters
, situated on the top floor of a
fashionable
high rise
. He
was greeted by an attractive secretary who announced hi
s presence
to Compton, then ushered him i
nto the industrialist’s office.

Lucier
expected antique furniture, Oriental rugs, and gilt-edged leather books, but instead found Compton’s office decor elegantly contemporary.
Taking up most of the floor’s area was a rug designed to co-ordinate with the vibrant painting on one wall. He checked the signature. Kandinsky.
A brushed steel sculpture braced the front of a massive desk with a glass top that seemed to float over side panels of exotic wood. Two
modern chrome and leather
chairs faced the desk
that held a
laptop computer.
Nothing else.
Not even a sheet of paper.
Light filtered in from a picture window
that showcased the magnificent view of the Mississippi and the
twin spans of the Crescent City Connection bridges
.

Nice to be king
.

Compton was on the phone. He waved Lucier inside and extended a waiting finger. When he hung up, he rose and
held out
his hand, which Lucier took.

“Lieutenant, what a pleasure.
Have a seat.”

“Your desk puts me to shame,” Lucier said
, sitting down
. “I can barely see the top of mine for all the papers.”

“That’s because I have a secretary who
’s an OCD
neat freak.
I give the orders; s
he does the work.” He walked to a banquet where a silver coffee
service sat on a matching tray.

Lucier recognized the distinct
set
from an art exhibit some years before
. He couldn’t remember the designer, but he
remembered the price tag
, which
was more than many yearly wages. He figured
a
famous
artisan
created the sculptured desk, but he didn’t know who.

“Coffee?”
Compton asked.

“No, thanks.
I
’ve had my two cups already
.”

“You don’t mind if I do?”


O
f course not.”

Compton poured coffee into a plain white china mug, decorated with
the
company
logo, and sat down.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Lucier said.

“It crossed my mind, Ernie. May I still call you Ernie, or is this an official visit?”

“Ernie’s fine, and
it’s
semi-official.
About your daughter.”

Compton didn’t blink.
“Which one?”

“Maia. Two men leveled a rather bizarre accusation against her, and I can’t seem to get in touch with her to clear it up. Her office said she was out of the country.”

“That’s right. I sent Maia to placate one of our Saudi associates. Something about construction on a complex he wasn’t happy about. She’s my best negotiator when it comes to this particular sheik. He likes her manner and blonde hair. I’m not above using her attributes to smooth things over.
” He
trained
a steady gaze at Lucier.

Now, what accusation did these men make against her?”

Lucier returned Compton’s pause with one of his own.
“Can you tell me when she left the country?”

“The day after our get-together,”
Compton
said, as if anticipating the question. “I’ve answered all your questions. I’d appreciate if you’d answer mine. What accusation?”

“The two men in question said she invited them into your home yesterday to steal your paintings, and they interrupted a meeting in the lower level of your house. A rather strange meeting, they said.”

Compton emitted a deep belly laugh before he spoke.

Really.
And this was supposed to have taken place yesterday, July Fourth, you say?”

“That’s what they said.”

Compton’s face lightly flushed, but he kept his composure.
“Maia
had
already left for the Middle East, and because we had the day off, we were at the lake home of my in-laws. You’ve met my daughter, Ernie. Does she
seem
the type who’d invite men into our home?
Into my home?
Hardly a likely scenario, don’t you think? Who are these liars?”


S
ome locals looking to cash in.
I guess they picked the wrong story to tell
. To
clear up this nonsense, which flight did your daughter take out of the country?”

An involuntary twitch rippled Compton’s cheek. He didn’t like being questioned, but he covered
his irritation
well, burying the tic under a
cold
smile.

“She flew overseas on one of Compton International’s private jets. I can give you the flight time and you can check with the airport, which is surely your next request.”


I’m being
thorough, Mr. Compton. This is one of those times when my job puts me in an awkward position, but that’s what I’m paid to do.” Lucier stared unblinkingly at Compton.
“Your tax dollars at work.
I’m sure you understand.”
Yeah, taxes you find every possible way to avoid.

He nodded agreement, but his eyes
grew narrow before he
glanced down
and
tugged at something hidden behind the desk
. So that’s where the drawer is.
Lucier marveled at the innovative design and concluded one advantage of being rich is having articles designed and made especially for you.

Compton caught his interest. “Clever, isn’t it? This desk was designed by Sophia Reyes. I mentioned she’s a designer, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“The sculpture is by a local artist. Sophia devised a drawer in back to hold a few pads of paper and writing utensils. It’s hidden by the panel of black glass fused to the desktop.
A work of art in itself
.

“Absolutely.”

Compton took out a card and handed it to Lucier. “My pilot’s number is on this card. You can call him and verify the flight plan. If that isn’t enough, you can check with air traffic control at the airport. They’ll confirm the plane left two days ago for the Middle East. Long before
those hoodlums
decided to taint my daughter’s
good
name.”

Lucier
read
the card. “Thank you. I’m sure his confirmation will clear this up.”

“As if my word wouldn’t?”

The
icy
tone of Compton’s voice
sent
a sharp chill through Lucier. He didn’t say anything but met the man’s stare with one of his own.

“Did you really think one of my daughters would devise a plan to steal my paintings?”

“No, sir, I didn’t. But like I said, I have to check
out
these
allegations
. In fact, I asked my captain if I could
come here
personally. As uncomfortable as it would be for me, when I learned your daughter wasn’t available, I
thought you’d find
be
ing
questioned by an acquaintance
less awkward.”

Only Compton’s lips smiled. “I appreciate that consideration, Ernie. I do.”

Lucier didn’t know why the familiar use of his name from this man bugged the shit out of him. They’d spent time in a social atmosphere,
but
Compton
had
never invited Lucier to address him by his first name, as if he wasn’t quite good enough to be on a first
-
name basis with a m
an as exalted as Silas Compton.

“Is that all?” Compton asked.

“That’ll do it,” Lucier said, rising. He offered his hand.
“Nice to see you again,
Silas
.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A Tangled Web

 

L
ucier questioned
why dropping Compton’s first name at the end of the meeting gave him such a vicarious thrill. Childish, he thought.
S
o what
?
It was worth the stunned look on Compton’s face.

He returned to the station and
his cluttered desk
.
His cell phone rang before he could get down to work. Private number, the readout said.

“Morning, Lieutenant,” Jason Connors said.

“How’d you get my cell number?”

“Um, that’s what I do.”

“Of course.
What was I thinking?

“I knew the info
Diana requested
was for you
, so I cut out the middleman
.”


Glad you called my cell.”

“Even if I called the station directly, there’d be no way to trace the call.
I
use
a routing number. If anyone decides to check, they’ll come up empty.”

“Maybe I should put you on the payroll.”

“That’d be great, Lieutenant. Beat the hell out of writing computer code.”

The kid’s computer talent was way over
Lucier’s
head. “What have you got?”

“Not everything.
H
aven’t had enough time, but I thought you could use what I have now. I’ll get back to you with the rest as soon as I get it.”

“Go. I’ve got a pen and pad ready.”

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