Be Mine Forever. Rosemary Laurey

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СКАЧАТЬ moved closer to the desk. “Stay there until we recall you. She may have stopped to eat, or gone in another direction entirely. Where’s the information you found last night?”

      “All the photocopies are on the file marked Elizabeth Connor in the in-box on Mr. Connor’s desk. There’s not much, but it was all I could find.”

      “Stay where you are until I call.” He punched the button to cut the connection. “Fool! At least we know where he is until I can take care of him. Now we need Elizabeth.”

      Piet reached for the folder and flipped it open. As he turned the photocopied sheets, Laran read over his shoulder. Alan was right, it was regrettably thin: Lizzie’s airline tickets to and from Eugene; copies of her passport, driver’s license, and credit cards—seemed she had her own as well as the one he’d given her—a used rail ticket to London and a return; a few credit card receipts; and a bill for an overnight stay in a hotel. Not much. Until the last two sheets. Talk about bad handwriting.

      “Who’s Heather?” Laran asked, reading over Piet’s shoulder. “She calls Elizabeth ‘sister,’ but…”

      “Stepsister! Adela’s daughter. She and Lizzie got close when we were married.”

      “Maybe that’s where she’s gone,” Laran said, tapping the just-legible address with his finger. “Chicago. This Heather talks about looking forward to seeing her.”

      Piet nodded. “Could be. They were thick as thieves as girls.”

      “That has to be it! If I take the company jet I can beat her there.”

      “A long way to go on a hunch.”

      “Would you rather she ran off telling everyone she meets that she suspects creative accounting in Connor Inc.?”

      “God! No!” Piet shivered at that prospect. “She couldn’t!”

      “She won’t!”

      The cold purpose in Laran’s voice shook Piet. “Now this is Lizzie, not some nosy bookkeeper. My daughter!”

      Laran smiled. “Would I hurt your daughter? I’ll just convince her to keep her suspicions to herself. Remember, I hold her in the same regard I hold you.” He ran two fingers down from Piet’s ear until Piet let out a little moan and leaned over to expose the white length of his neck. “Not now, Piet. Wait a couple of days. Much as it flatters me to be offered your blood, I need you strong enough to run your business. I drank deeply last night. Let your body replenish itself. When I get back, then you may bare your veins for me in gratitude.”

      Chapter 2

      Chicago, Illinois. That evening.

      “Heather! Wonderful to see you!” Elizabeth clasped her sister as if she were her last hope.

      Heather hugged back. “Me too. You had me worried with your phone calls.”

      “I had me worried.” Terrified some of the time, but now that she was a safe distance from her father and Laran, she could relax. “It’s okay now.” She exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath for hours.

      “You’re here now, that’s what matters. Got any luggage?”

      “No. I didn’t check anything. This is it. Let’s get out of here.” She couldn’t rid herself of the dread that Laran Radcliffe might appear any minute to “take care” of her.

      Heather looked her elder sister up and down. “You don’t look at all good. When did you last eat?”

      She had to think a minute. “Breakfast. But I didn’t finish it.”

      Heather rolled her blue eyes. “The first thing you do is eat. We’ll stop on the way home.” She linked arms with Elizabeth. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Now, tell me everything about England.”

      “I’m not sure you want to know!”

      “Of course I do. Everything! Including what got you so upset. But first, food. You pick: pizza, Chinese, Indian, or the greasiest, best-tasting kebabs in Chicago.”

      They stopped for kebabs in a narrow little shop that smelled of cooking and warm spices. After ordering, Heather insisted they share a bottle of wine. “I can’t wait to show you my house,” she said, “It’s old and needs a lot of work, but…” Heather shook her head. “I never thought, in a million years, I’d settle down like this, but when I started teaching, Mom offered me a loan of the down payment. And to be honest, I love having my own space.”

      “You like teaching?”

      “Love teaching. Loathe the paperwork, but the pay is regular, I have time to pot, and I have money to buy clay and pay the enormous utility bills. I do dream of one day making enough with my pots to live on, but until then it’s seventh-and eighth-grade special ed.”

      “How’s the pottery doing?”

      “Can’t complain. I’ve a couple of shops that take my stuff on consignment. I go to craft fairs when I have the time and the money, and Mom’s even found me some outlets. I make sacred bowls, chalices, and censers, some decorated with enamels, and sell them at Wiccan gatherings.”

      “That doesn’t go against your principles?” She couldn’t resist the dig at her sister’s skepticism.

      Heather grinned. “It’s money, dear sister. Good money too. I make quality articles and sell them at a fair price. If the purchasers choose to use them for superstition, that’s up to them.”

      “I assume you’re not so outspoken to your customers.”

      “Lizzie, when was I ever stupid!”

      “Only when you scorn your mother’s calling.”

      Heather chuckled. “She forgives me. Besides, she has you as a daughter in spirit.”

      “I’ve nowhere near her skill.”

      “Mom insists you have.”

      So Adela had told her repeatedly, and Elizabeth knew better than to doubt a witch of her stepmother’s skill.

      Their food arrived, and as the waiter left, Heather asked, “Okay, tell me what had you so running scared.”

      “Can we eat first?” Her stomach was growling, and she rather felt a good meal might help her get her mind around the past twenty-four hours—and the two weeks before that.

      Heather nodded. After a good ten minutes of chewing, and another glass of Australian Shiraz, Elizabeth’s anxieties eased.

      “So tell,” Heather said with a wry smile as she refilled their glasses. “What devious plot is my wicked stepfather hatching?”

      That jest was too near the truth to be anything but unnerving. “Sure you want to know?”

      Heather closed her hand over the bottle. “You want the last of the bottle? Tell!”

      Elizabeth СКАЧАТЬ