Patricia Potter (41 page)

But she was also intelligent if young, two qualities that usually did not find favor with him. He usually preferred older women, sophisticated in the ways of love and barren of opinion. But he had flattered Lisa’s quickness, her unusual knowledge of events, and he had known instantly that he had been correct in doing so.

American women. So independent. He knew how to use that independence and turn it around into dependence.

It would, however, take longer. He had already notified his office that he planned to stay in America a few weeks more than planned. A much delayed vacation, he said. At the same time, there were Odessa matters that could be handled. A few visits to its supporters and beneficiaries in America. A little applied pressure for more money. He wanted to meet and talk to one of the white supremacist leaders who had demonstrated definite promise. He had contempt for most of them, crazies who did more harm than good, but this one had been steadily, quietly, developing a strong organization. Kurt had already steered some money that way.

He knew he had to be very, very careful. Yet he trusted it to no one else. Odessa needed a strong organization in America; that was Hitler’s mistake. He had underestimated America, and America’s will. It would not be a mistake which was repeated.

Kurt finished his brief presentation and turned his attention to the next speaker. He was careful to keep his eyes alert and an interested smile on his lips.

Lisa typed the brief slowly, her mind on anything but the notes in front of her.

Her thoughts went momentarily to her mother this morning. Her eyes had been red and bloodshot. When Lisa mentioned it, her mother had quickly dismissed the signs as a beginning of a cold. Lisa wondered.

Lisa loved her mother, but she was intimidated by her. Not because her mother did anything cruel, far from it. But it was that control, that perfection that Lisa had never understood. She had tried to emulate it once. I will not cry or yell or say hurtful things, she had once pledged. Not for three whole months. Unfortunately, that intention lasted three days until she saw a sad film and cried buckets. Two days later, she found herself yelling at someone who was teasing Andy.

She could never be like her mother, and a small vein of resentment and rebellion had started then. She knew she was wrong to feel that way. She knew it, but she couldn’t help it.

She had once asked her father if her mother ever lost control. He had looked at her intently, and nodded. Her mother had lost someone long ago, he’d said, and it affected her deeply. The facade of calmness, he had said, was her way of protecting her feelings.

Whom did she lose? It was, of course, natural curiosity, but for once her father didn’t answer directly. “No one you knew. A boating accident before you were born. Don’t say anything about it to her. Promise?”

She did promise, because he had asked it of her, but she had never stopped wondering about it. Lisa also knew her mother had worked hard as she was growing up, even working as a maid for a fine family. She had heard wonderful stories about the way they had lived, both on Long Island and on Jekyll Island in the thirties, and her mother still received Christmas cards from Elizabeth Connor and her two now-grown children. But she had never met them. She had wanted to, but something had always interfered.

Her mother’s life affected her own. Lisa had wanted to work summers, but her mother had continually opposed such proposals, saying Lisa should have this time to enjoy herself. Lisa had always thought she would enjoy herself more if she could earn her own money, but in this instance her father had agreed. Be young, he had said.

So this was only the second summer she had worked, and that had been interrupted after only one week by her father’s death. Now she was having difficulty concentrating, even on the simple task of typing. Her father’s death, her mother’s distraction, and Kurt were all recurring themes in her head.

Thank goodness, she was working for Kelly, who understood her so well. He had asked her last summer, knowing she was eager for a job and that she planned to study law. She had quickly adapted, usually enjoying even the most elementary tasks of recording deeds at the courthouse, typing complex briefs, and answering the phone. Law fascinated her. She was constantly intrigued by the way an attorney could make a believable plea out of either side of a case. It was much like a chess game, she thought. A good lawyer had to anticipate the other player’s moves and counter them.

Kelly was extremely patient, always answering her questions, giving her time off to watch a particularly interesting case.

She didn’t know exactly how she felt about Kelly. Except she’d always felt safe with him. He had been her best friend for a long time. But she’d never felt the excitement she was feeling now with Kurt.

Kurt!

She wished there was someone close she could talk to about him, but there wasn’t. Her mother would never understand. Lisa couldn’t imagine her ever having experienced these giddy, excited feelings.

Lisa understood that part of her fascination was awe. She’d never met anyone quite like Kurt Weimer, with his European manners and lovely accent and the way everyone looked at him with respect. That he apparently enjoyed her company was, to her, astounding and flattering.

She had told Kelly about dinner, because she usually told Kelly almost everything, but she had instantly regretted it when she saw his eyes cloud. It had surprised her because Kelly had never been more than a very good friend. Of course, they had kissed occasionally after going out for an evening, and they had been very nice, very satisfactory kisses indeed, but he had never said anything that justified that instant of pain she thought she saw in his face.

Ever since she and her family had started to come here for the summers, Kelly had looked out for her. He had been seven years older, yet he had always treated her as an equal, and their friendship had grown stronger as she grew older. When she was eighteen, he had started taking her to dances and movies, and she had always assumed it convenience more than anything else, since there were few young people on the island.

Now she wondered. His father had been an attorney, and Kelly’s family and her own had become close friends. When Kelly’s father died, Sanders had been the anchor for Kelly and his mother, and Lisa had assumed that Kelly had been returning the favor.

The door to Kelly’s office opened, and he came out, bringing another sheaf of papers for typing, and she took several minutes to look at him anew. He was tall and lanky, his face pleasant but not exactly handsome. It was, instead, the face of someone you wanted as, well, your best friend. It was sensitive and friendly, with an easy smile and warm brown eyes. His hair was a russet color, thick and slightly curly, and he wore it a little long, more because he didn’t take the time to go to the barber than intent, she thought. His clothes were what they had to be, suits on days he appeared in court, and more casual when he knew he would be in the office all day. His collar would be open and his tie loose and the cuffs of his sleeves rolled up. He cared little about appearances when he wasn’t in court, only about the quality of his work, and she respected him enormously. He did a lot of pro bono work for indigent clients if he thought they had been treated unjustly, and he hurt when he lost one of their cases.

Perhaps it was because she knew him so well that she didn’t feel the thrill with him that she had with Kurt, whose impeccable grooming and clothes made everyone turn and look as they walked in the restaurant, or the way the leather of the Mercedes felt, compared to the slightly torn upholstery in Kelly’s often paper-littered car.

She winced at her thoughts, thinking them shallow indeed. Yet she was intrigued by so many other things about Kurt. He was so…different, even frightening in some ways.

Lisa felt Kelly’s hand on her shoulder. “How are you doing?” The voice was sympathetic.

“Fine,” she said as brightly as she could.

“I have a lunch appointment. Can you stay here until I’m back? Dan’s out today, and Margaret has already gone to lunch.”

Dan was Kelly’s partner, and Margaret the legal secretary. Kelly always wanted at least one person in the office at all times during the day.

“Of course,” she said, knowing she had already inconvenienced the firm with her recent absences.

He stayed there a second longer, regarding her gravely. “Would you like to go to a movie tonight?” His voice was a little cooler than usual.

She smiled. “I would love it.”

She was rewarded with a quick grin. “Good. I have to work late here, but I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. We’ll get a bite to eat afterwards.”

She nodded.

Kelly hesitated a moment, then slung his sports coat over his shoulder and strode out. He had ten minutes to reach The Deck, a seafood restaurant that stood at the entrance of St. Simons Island; that was more than enough time for the few miles which separated it from his Brunswick office.

He had been surprised at Meara’s call last night. Lisa, she said, was taking Andy for a walk, and she didn’t want her daughter to know about the call. She had asked him to meet her for lunch today. Something important. And please don’t tell Lisa.

Kelly had to cancel another luncheon engagement, but there had been something in his neighbor’s voice that was compelling. A fear that was palpable over the phone. He had readily agreed.

He saw her standing as he entered the restaurant. Kelly had always admired her, the calm but kind demeanor she always had, the ease with which she met people, the way she had helped his mother when his own father had died. She looked fresh and cool, as she usually did, in a light blue blouse and dark blue flared skirt that swirled as she moved gracefully. But as he looked closer, her eyes were haunted, her face tired.

“Meara,” he said gently. It always seemed strange using her first name after calling her Mrs. Evans for so many years. But when he took over some of the Evans’s legal business, she’d insisted.

“Thank you for meeting me,” she said, a kind of tonelessness in her voice.

“Any time, you know that.”

A hostess interrupted and seated them, and they waited to talk until a waiter took their order. Then Kelly looked at her levelly. “What’s wrong, Meara?”

“It’s Lisa,” she said slowly, still wondering what and how much to tell him.

His hands stilled. “What about Lisa?”

Meara tried to construct her words, but it was difficult. How little, how much, should she say without opening the whole can of worms? “Did she tell you about…seeing a German delegate to the conference on Sea Island?”

“Yes,” he said shortly. “In fact, I was there when they met.”

“What did you think of him?”

“Then? I didn’t pay too much attention, to tell you the truth. Lisa was unhappy. I was worried about her.”

“Think back. You’re good at people. Any impression at all?”

“Very smooth. Very charming. I didn’t realize how much until this morning when Lisa said she went out with him,” he added with some resignation. “Why?”

“I don’t like him,” Meara said flatly, unable any longer to skirt around the problem. “And I don’t trust him.”

He looked at her sharply. “Do you have a reason?”

She hesitated. “He’s much older, much more sophisticated. As bright as Lisa is, I can’t understand why he’s attracted to her.”

“I can,” he said softly. “Lisa is very pretty, and as you said very bright. There’s another reason, isn’t there?”

Meara felt her heart sink. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Kelly was only twenty-eight, but she had heard he was already exceptional in court. The only way to be exceptional was understanding people and what motivated them.

“Yes. I can’t tell you what or why, but he has reason to dislike me.”

Kelly absorbed the information. “You think he might try to get at you by getting to Lisa?”

“Yes.”

“How did he contact her?”

“He said he found a compact that belonged to her.”

The fall at the Cloister. Could it have been planned? Now he thought about it, the incident had been strange. He remembered the man’s intense eyes as he had looked at Lisa, the invitation for a drink.

“You can’t say anything to Lisa?”

“No.” The word was full of pain.

He leaned forward. “I’m an attorney, Meara. Anything you say to me is privileged. Perhaps I can help.”

Meara wanted to tell him everything. Dear Lord, how she wanted to. She’d been living with secrets and guilt for so many years. But she couldn’t. What if he let something slip? He was so close to Lisa. Or what if he felt duty bound, as an officer of the court, to reveal Chris Chandler’s identity?

Chris. Michael. Even now, she wanted to protect him. Even as she had that night when she couldn’t fire on him.

Meara just looked at Kelly miserably, the denial clear in her face.

“Did Sanders know…about whatever you’re worried about?”

“Yes.”

Kelly felt relief. If Sanders knew, whatever secret existed couldn’t be too disastrous; it wouldn’t be illegal. Yet he had never known Meara Evans to be excitable or an alarmist. “What do you want me to do?” he said simply.

“Keep an eye on her, both at the office and at the house. As much as you can.”