The Longest Silence. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ would be worth four or five times that much. The Jag coupe parked out front was not only new but also registered in her name. The damned car alone cost more than she made in two years.

      Either the lady was earning extra income off the books or she’d married well. Tony’s resource hadn’t found any information on her marital status. He climbed out of the BMW and walked toward the front steps. The sun was dropping behind the trees. He had hoped to get back to Milledgeville before dark but that wasn’t going to happen. He checked his cell. Ang had left two voice mails. Phelps had left one. None of the messages included an update. They only wanted to know where Tony was and what he was doing.

      At the moment he wasn’t entirely certain, but he would continue to follow his instincts until he felt he’d found all he was going to or his need for alcohol lured him to his room.

      He pressed the doorbell. The chime echoed through the house. The double doors were more glass than wood. No curtains or blinds obscured the view into the entry hall and to the staircase that stood in the middle of it. He saw a woman’s bare feet first, then her lean calves as she descended the stairs. The sides of the white robe she wore came together but not before he got a glimpse of toned thighs. Martin tightened the sash as she walked runway style toward the door. She didn’t look forty, more like thirty. Long blond hair hung in thick waves around her silk-clad shoulders. Her eyes were pale. Gray, he decided as she neared. But it was her mouth that gave him pause. Wide with full, lush lips. The kind women paid the big bucks to have and men paid even more to taste.

      “You lost, honey?” she asked through the glass.

      A sleek black Doberman pinscher trotted up beside her. Black eyes scrutinized Tony.

      “Hailey Martin?” Tony showed his official ID—the one he’d lost years ago and had to replace, then found in his glove box just this morning when he’d dug around for a pair of sunglasses.

      Her face registered surprise. “Well, alrighty then.” She opened the door. “Come on in.”

      Tony glanced at the dog.

      “Brutus, go.”

      Perfect name for the animal that stared suspiciously at his owner’s visitor. With one last glower at Tony the dog walked away, toenails clicking on the gleaming hardwood.

      Martin cocked her head, scrutinizing Tony much as the dog had done. “You staying or am I going? I’ll need to get dressed if we’re going somewhere.” She pushed the door closed, the move causing the robe to show even more of her generous cleavage.

      Tony ignored the instinctive stir of desire. “I have a few questions for you, Ms. Martin. As long as you’re cooperative, I don’t see why we can’t take care of what I need right here.”

      “Follow me.” She turned and started in the same direction her pet had taken. The last of the sun filtering in through the windows highlighted the curve of her bare ass beneath that thin layer of silk.

      Tony watched the sway of her hips for a moment before following. “Nice house.”

      “Compliments of my first and only husband.”

      The entry hall flowed around the staircase on both sides and then into the center of the home where an enormous kitchen sat to the left. On the right was the great room. A leather sofa flanked by upholstered chairs were nestled around the fireplace, the stacked stone soaring upward to collide with the vaulted ceiling. The rear wall of the house was mostly glass and showed the view of the lake. Behind the stairs a dining room separated the kitchen from the great room.

      Tony asked, “Divorce?” The sun was just settling down against the water. The view was breathtaking—the one out the window and the one inside.

      She smiled. “Heart attack. Seventy-year-old men shouldn’t take Viagra but his fondest wish was to make me happy.”

      Tony acknowledged the comment with a nod. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

      She reached for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Thank you.”

      He waited until she’d lit up before moving to the next question. “How long have you lived in Macon?”

      “I moved here when I was eighteen to attend Mercer University.” She took a long drag from her cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke. “Would you like a drink, Agent LeDoux?”

      His throat ached at the offer. “No thanks. I’d like to get to those questions I mentioned, if you don’t mind.”

      “Of course. Please, sit.” She sashayed over to the bar and poured herself a Scotch on the rocks.

      Tony’s mouth watered. He looked away and made himself comfortable on the sofa. “Do you know Tiffany Durand?”

      Martin curled up on a chair near the wall of glass. The white silk slid all the way to the tops of her thighs. “I don’t really know her, but I see her at a club I visit occasionally.”

      “Are you aware she’s missing?”

      She gasped. “Are you serious?”

      “You haven’t seen the news?”

      She made a scoffing sound. “Honey, I haven’t been up long enough to watch the news. I was in a dead sleep until you showed up at my door.”

      “She and another freshman from Georgia College, Vickie Parton, haven’t been seen since Friday afternoon.”

      Realization dawned in her gray eyes. “I don’t know the Parton girl, but I saw Tiffany at Wild Things a few days ago. Maybe on Wednesday or Thursday.”

      “Did she mention a new boyfriend or any plans to go out of town?”

      Martin shook her head. “No. She did seem excited though.” She sighed. “Oh dear. I feel terrible about this. Tiffany is such a sweet girl.”

      “Do you know a man named Miles?”

      “Miles Conway?”

      “Does he frequent Wild Things?”

      “Occasionally. He’s—” she shrugged “—a little reclusive. He doesn’t get out much.”

      “How can I get in touch with Mr. Conway?”

      “I think I have his number.” She finished off her Scotch and got up. The brief glimpse of the Brazilian wax job between her legs had Tony glancing at the floor. Martin went back to the bar. She left her glass and returned to her chair with her cell phone. For a half a minute she scanned her contacts. “Here he is. What’s your number and I’ll send you his contact info?”

      Tony gave her his number. A fleeting vibration announced he’d received the number. “What does Mr. Conway do for a living?”

      She seemed to consider his question. “I really don’t have any idea. I see him from time to time but we’re not really friends, more acquaintances who share an appreciation for the same things.”

      Tony didn’t have to ask what those things were. “So Tiffany never mentioned a boyfriend or anyone new in her life?”

      Martin moved her head side СКАЧАТЬ