Hidden by Blood. Laurie London

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      The tension in Roslyn’s stomach melted in a rush of excitement.

      “So,” Ed continued, taking another drag on his cigar, “you’ve got to make a decision about this inheritance of yours, I suppose.”

      “Not really, Ed. I mean, can you see me in Plainsville, Iowa?”

      “I take your point,” he commented. “But before we leave, there is one more thing.”

      Catching the ominous tone in his voice, Roslyn had a feeling she was about to hear the string attached to her promotion. After all, it had been a day of conditions.

      HOURS LATER, on her way home, Roslyn let her forehead rest against the train window. She knew she ought to be feeling jubilant. Wasn’t making associate her primary goal since joining the investment firm five years ago?

      She sagged against the plastic seat. Her eyes swept across the commuters leaving the heart of the city almost two hours after the peak of the rush hour. They all looked as wrung out as she felt. An inner voice scolded her for yielding to such a dark mood on what ought to have been the best day of her career so far.

      She loved the erratic pace of her work days—the frenzy of buying and selling; urgent phone calls and spinning from one monitor to the next, checking stock prices around the world. Everything at her fingertips and everything demanding now, now!

      Then there were the calm times—the interludes of sanity that Roslyn and her co-workers dubbed the eyes of the hurricanes. Those rare moments gave them time to replenish before the next storm.

      You love it, she told herself. The unpredictability of it all. So why the funky mood? Roslyn wondered. Ed Saunders’s face floated through her mind. “There’s a problem at the firm,” he’d said. “Looks as if someone’s been skimming from client accounts.”

      Roslyn’s immediate reaction had been simply shock, until Ed had mentioned that he believed that person might be Jim Naismith. Then her disbelief became nausea. She’d dated Jim a few times and liked him.

      She thought back to the night almost five weeks before when she’d stayed to finish off the Wallis account and had bumped into Jim at the copy machine. The paper cartridge was empty and he’d shown her where the office receptionist kept a secret supply.

      Their easy bantering had led to a late supper together. Although Roslyn had always avoided socializing on a personal level with the staff at the firm, she liked Jim’s easygoing manner and had gone out with him a few times. She’d been content to keep their friendship platonic but after she turned down his invitation to accompany him on a Caribbean cruise, their dating had come to an end.

      The train squealed into Roslyn’s station. She headed for the platform in a daze. Another weekend loomed ahead. There was plenty of work to do, but none of it appealed to Roslyn in her present mood—not even her Saturday morning sleep-in followed by a run around the harbor.

      She pushed her way through the turnstile and stood on the pavement outside the El station. The news about her strange inheritance had been sponged from her thoughts. All she could focus on was Ed’s request at the end of lunch.

      I know you can’t—or maybe won’t—believe Naismith is our thief, but promise me one thing. If you see or hear him engaged in anything suspicious, let me know immediately, won’t you? In complete confidence, of course. Just between partners.

      Was there a hint in that message somewhere, implying she’d have more access to Jim’s movements than anyone else in the office?

      And she couldn’t keep back the second question that sprung to mind. What would her previous involvement with a suspected embezzler mean to her new promotion? However the events of the next few weeks played out, Roslyn knew there was no way she’d escape untouched. She couldn’t bring herself to spy on a colleague and friend; at the same time, how could she refuse her boss’s first big request of her—partner to partner?

      I’m beat either way, she thought. All I can do is try to come out of this clean. She looked up and down the street, hoping to hail a cab for the short distance to her condo. But rush hour had finished and most of the cabs were going farther into the city for evening events.

      Roslyn sighed, turned up her trench coat collar against the bite of a brisk April breeze, and, sidestepping puddles from the recent shower, headed home. It seemed an appropriate end to the day.

      THE CONGRATULATORY messages were already coming in via phone and e-mail by the time Roslyn walked off the elevator at eight-thirty Monday morning. Her secretary, Judy, looked up in surprise.

      “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming in today. Too much celebrating on the weekend?”

      Roslyn grinned. “I wish. Too much traffic, not to mention too much rain.”

      “I know,” Judy agreed. “Do you believe this weather? I mean, April showers bring May flowers and blah-blah-blah, but this is ridiculous. Anyway, the word is out on your promotion and there’s a stack of callbacks waiting for you.”

      “You’re a pal, Jude.” Roslyn was halfway into her office when the telephone rang. Judy waved her fingers, mouthed the word coffee and turned away. Roslyn shrugged off her coat and tossed it over a chair.

      “Hello?” She cradled the receiver against her left ear and sat down in her black leather swivel desk chair. Before the caller could speak, she’d already reached for the stack of messages that Judy had left for her and was shuffling through them. The day’s work had just begun.

      “Miss Baines? Randall Taylor here.”

      Randall Taylor? Roslyn closed her eyes. Friday afternoon’s revelations had completely erased Great-Aunt Ida and her prized rosebush from her memory.

      “Oh yes, Mr. Taylor. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to call so early.”

      “Randall,” he reminded her. “Well, I have to leave Des Moines on business for a few days and I thought I’d check with you before I left regarding your thoughts on the inheritance.”

      Roslyn sighed. “I’m afraid I haven’t made a decision. Something came up at work later on Friday, and I spent most of the weekend reflecting on that. Uh, when will you need a definite yes or no on this?”

      There was a slight pause. “There’s no real rush, of course. Although I must admit I’d like to have things settled as soon as possible. Once the will has been probated, I should really move ahead with finalizing things. However,” his voice shifted to a less businesslike tone, “may I give you some friendly advice?”

      Roslyn pushed aside the phone messages. “Certainly.”

      “I know that to someone who’s spent her whole life in a place like Chicago, Plainsville, Iowa isn’t much of a draw.” He chuckled. “In fact, probably Des Moines itself isn’t a grabber.”

      Roslyn nodded her head in silent agreement. She wished the man would make his point so she could get to some of her telephone calls.

      “But please, take a few days and visit your aunt’s house before you decide.”

      “Visit Plainsville?”

      “It wouldn’t be that bad, seriously. Late April СКАЧАТЬ