Passion's Price. Gwynne Forster

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      She leaned against the back of a tufted velvet chair and looked at the man. “Thank you, but I don’t care for tea, and the air-conditioning is fine. This is a beautiful house, but it must be very old. No one seems to build these kinds of houses anymore.” Small talk was something she hated, but she had to engage the man in conversation if she was to learn anything about her client.

      “Yes, it’s old, all right. My grandfather built it. But I renovated it from roof to cellar about twenty-five years ago. Sure you wouldn’t like some tea or iced coffee?”

      “No thank you. I was given this address and was told a young man, an alibi witness, lived here. But I see I was wrong, so I’d better be going,” Darlene said, somewhat surprised that the old man lived in the home. “Thanks for your hospitality.”

      “I wish you wouldn’t go,” he said as she reached for the doorknob. “I’ve enjoyed your company. I don’t get much company anymore.”

      “I’m sorry,” she said as she opened the door. She turned to leave, only to find her exit blocked. She looked up into the eyes of a six-foot-three-inch boulder.

      “Excuse me. I was j-just leaving,” she stammered, taken aback by her sudden encounter with this immovable object.

      “You aren’t going anywhere,” he said.

      “Would you please get out of my way,” Darlene said, letting him know that she was not easily intimidated.

      The man put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket, took out his badge and flashed it. “I’m Detective Michael Raines of the Memphis Police, and you don’t leave this house until I say so.”

      Darlene looked him in the eye. “Really? I thought all the bullies in uniform were in Baltimore. Apparently Tennessee has some, too. How interesting! Now, would you please move aside? I have business to take care of.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Go right ahead. Maybe you can walk through me.”

      She stared at him, seeing him as if for the first time. Something flickered in his light brown eyes, and she responded, unable to do otherwise. She told herself to get out of there. But she stood rooted to the spot. His eyes said he would never release her. She shook her head as if to break the spell he had cast over her.

      “I’m Attorney Darlene Cunningham, and you have no reason to keep me here. If you don’t let me pass, I’ll sue you, the city of Memphis and the state of Tennessee,” she said, her mild manner dissolving into anger.

      His facial expression didn’t change one bit. Realizing that belligerence would get her nowhere with Detective Raines, she decided to switch tactics.

      “You haven’t read me my rights, and you have to do that if I’m under arrest.” Her voice took on a taunting tone.

      “You are not under arrest, Ms. Cunningham. You are being detained.”

      She leaned her head to the side in what she knew he’d take as a challenge. “What’s the difference?” she said, clearly losing patience.

      “Very funny, Ms. Cunningham, but you may as well have a seat, because you cannot leave this house until I say so.”

      Darlene turned to the old man. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

      “My name is Boyd Farmer. Have a seat. At least it’s comfortable in here.”

      “Is this guy your son? Oh, sorry,” she said before Boyd could respond. “You’re too nice to have such an arrogant, obnoxious son. I really need to go.”

      “I’m sorry,” Boyd said. “He isn’t going to let you go.”

      She whirled around and glared at Michael Raines, and for her trouble she felt a peculiar thudding in the region of her heart. “At least I deserve to know why I’m being detained,” she said. “What did I do?” Realizing that her tone would only make him more adamant, she switched tactics again. “You’re unlike any detective I’ve ever met.”

      “What do you mean by that?” His tone was definitely not friendly.

      “Oh,” she said, tossing her hair to the side. “I mean, aren’t police officers supposed to protect and serve?”

      Boyd’s laughter filled the room, but she avoided looking in his direction. Instead she focused on Michael Raines.

      “Yeah,” he said. “Now, sit down and let’s cut the comedy.”

      Darlene did not like taking orders from a stranger, even one with a badge. She didn’t move. “You don’t look stupid,” she told him. “You have to tell me why you’re holding me here. It’s the law. Tell me why I’m being detained, or I’m leaving.” She tried to move past him.

      He grabbed her shoulders and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”

      She twisted her shoulders and moved away from him. “I’m trying to get information that I hope will help my client’s case.”

      “You’ll have to prove that to me. This house has been under surveillance, and neither you nor anyone else can leave here. Get it?”

      She’d have to come up with a different excuse. Getting back to her office in Maryland was paramount. The other partners already considered her trip to Memphis little more than a wild-goose chase, and if they discovered her present predicament… She didn’t want to think of their reaction.

      “I have to get back to my hotel,” she said.

      He folded his arms across his broad chest and smiled, giving evidence that he could be charming when it suited him. “Oh, so I gather you plan to leave Memphis.”

      “No, as a matter of fact I’m staying at the Peabody,” she said.

      “Really?” he said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you to stay here.”

      “Now, look here, you,” she said, with all the softness of a wildcat about to pounce. “You’re going to…” She stopped. His beautiful eyes twinkled like flashing lights, and she could see his difficulty in restraining his laughter.

      “You’re not one bit funny, and I’ll have the last laugh.”

      At that point, Boyd brought the tea along with a brioche and jam. “This should make you comfortable.” She thanked him. “Detective Raines doesn’t like tea, and I don’t have any more coffee,” he said.

      “How long has he been here?” Darlene asked Boyd, pointing to Michael.

      “He’s been here two weeks. That’s why I don’t have any more coffee. He’s practically a coffee addict.”

      She took a few sips of tea and looked at Michael. “Coffee addict, eh? I’m glad to have at least some evidence that you’re human.”

      Something akin to pain flickered in his eyes, and she wished she could retract her words. It wasn’t his fault that she’d stumbled into a house that was under surveillance. He was doing his job. Maybe if she appealed to his decency, he’d let her go.

      “If СКАЧАТЬ