Sweet Liar Part 8

When Sam woke in the morning, at first she didnat know where she was, but when she realized it was Mikeas bedroom, a feeling of safety came over her. Someone, and she knew it was Mike, had placed clean clothes over a chair for her. Getting out of bed, she pulled on the jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt head left for hera"there were no shoes, as though he thought shead run away if given shoesa"and went into the bathroom. This was Mikeas bathroom, and the countertop had several bottles and jars on it, all neatly arranged, all clean. Picking up a bottle of aftershave, she smelled it, smiled, and put it down again, then found herself sliding back the gla.s.s door to the shower and looking inside to see his shampoo.

There was another door that opened into the bath, and when she opened it she saw another bedroom. The bed was rumpled, recently slept in. Obviously, Mike had spent the night in this room, the room closest to her.

After her inspection of the bathroom, she went back into the bedroom, and after telling herself she shouldnat, she opened his closet door. It was a large, walk-in closet and had been fitted with built-in cabinets to hold his clothes, which were all neatly arranged. He didnat have a lot of clothes, but what he had was all of the best quality. Touching the sleeve of a cream-colored jacket made of raw silk, she lifted the jacket from the rack, looking at the shoulders that were as broad as Mikeas shoulders and the waist as narrow as his. There was no way on earth that head bought this jacket off a store rack; it had to have been made for him. Inside the jacket was the label of a store in London.

She put the jacket back, ran her hands across s.h.i.+rts and trousers, then touched perfectly polished shoes lined up on slanted shelves, each shoe with a cedar shoe tree inside it. Closing the closet door, she went back into the bedroom.

There was a big chest against one wall in the bedroom, and after a momentas hesitation, Samantha opened the drawers. Underwear, sweaters, a drawer full of workout clothes, socks. It was when she opened the bottom right-hand drawer that she saw a silver frame turned face down. She could no more have contained her curiosity than she could have willed herself to fly. Picking up the frame, she looked at the photograph of a very pretty young woman with lots of dark hair and an intelligent, almost aristocratic-looking face. aAll my love, Vanessaa shead written on the photo.

As Samantha put the photo back in the drawer the way shead found it, she wondered why Mike had hidden the photo, why he hadnat wanted her to know that he had a steady girl who gave him all her love. Of course a man liked for a woman to think that she was the only one in his life, didnat he? She remembered last night and Mike telling her that he wasnat a rapist. He hadnat been making a pa.s.s at her, but Sam had thought he was.

After she finished dressing, she went into the kitchen where she found Mike sitting at the breakfast table. When she greeted him, he was distant to her, saying only that she should be in bed. She wanted to apologize to him for last night, for fighting him after head saved her life. She wanted to tell him that it wasnat him but her, that she was the one with the problems, but she couldnat bring herself to write what she felt. Quietly, she went back to bed and picked up a book, but didnat read it.

Later in the morning, Blair came and examined her throat and said shead be all right by the next day, but if she could, shead like for Samantha not to speak for another day. Blair went into the living room with Mike and minutes later Samantha got out of bed and followed them.

Blair was leaning over Mike and examining his head. Neither of them saw Samantha, so she slipped upstairs and put on some makeup. When she came down, Mike was in the garden, sitting at the picnic table, lunch food before him.

aYou want something to eat?a he asked, but he didnat look at her.

Samantha opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. How could she explain something that she herself didnat understand?

The sunlight glistened on his hair, and she could see the bare place where his scalp was white. When she stepped closer to him, reached out, and touched his hair, he didnat move. Encouraged, she stepped even closer and examined the wound. There were ten st.i.tches holding the gash shut, and she knew without a doubt that his injury had something to do with why her throat was a ma.s.s of bruises.

On impulse, she kissed the sewn cut. Mike sat still, for once not grabbing her, not trying to wrestle her to the ground, not tearing at her clothes. His acquiescence encouraged her, and she smoothed his hair over the place, covering it completely.

Moving away from him, she went to take her seat on the opposite side of the table. He was looking at her oddly, as though trying to figure her out. She wanted to tell him to not try to figure her out, that she wasnat like other people, that she didnat fit into any mold.

Mike didnat say anything, just ate and kept his thoughts to himself.

At one oaclock the telephone rang and when Mike answered it, he broke into a smile. aThatas great,a he said, grinning. aCongratulations. Wait a minute and Iall ask Sam.a Putting his hand over the phone, he turned to her. aAre you up for some company? A friend of mine just pa.s.sed her bar exam and sheas celebrating today. She and some others would like to come over.a Smiling, Samantha nodded yes, although she was leery of more of Mikeas friends. So far shead met strippers and rednecks. What kind of bar had this woman pa.s.sed? Bartending?

Not wanting anyone to see the bruises on her throat, Samantha put on a turtleneck knit s.h.i.+rt. An hour later, when she met Mikeas friends, she was pleasantly surprised. There were four of them, one married couple, Jess and Anne, who had been married all of six weeks, and an engaged couple, Ben and Corey. It was Corey who had just pa.s.sed her exam that allowed her to practice law. She said that shead grown up in the same small town of Chandler, Colorado, that Mike had.

When the four ecstatic people, carrying bottles of champagne, entered the town house and saw Samantha on the couch, they immediately a.s.sumed that she and Mike were living together.

It was Mike who set them straight. aSamantha is my tenant,a Mike said. aShe has an apartment upstairs.a He told them shead fallen against the banister and injured her throat so she couldnat speak. Sam fiddled with the turtleneck, afraid they would see the bruises that looked exactly like fingerprints.

When Mike said Samantha was no more than his tenant, his four friends looked from one to the other and wiggled their eyebrows. It wasnat the usual tenant-land-lord relations.h.i.+p that had the tenant ensconced on the library couch wrapped in a quilt.

For Samantha it was good to have the presence of the other people, for their laughter broke the tension that had developed between her and Mike, and she got to see Mike as he was around other people.

Since shead been twelve years old, Samantha had led an isolated life. Her mother had been the more social of her parents, the one who was always organizing barbecues, dinner parties, and church socials. After she died, Samantha had been left with her father, who rarely saw other people. Then there had been Samanthaas marriage to a man who liked his socializing in private.

But Mike was a gregarious creature who was at ease in groups.

Jess liked computers, and when he saw the new equipment in Mikeas library, he couldnat wait to turn it on. Mike gave Samantha all the credit for having chosen the equipment and for doing whatever had to be done to it to make it work.

Looking at the directory, Jess brought up the Sierra game and within minutes, the three men were moving the mouse about on the pad and arguing over bees and ants and robbers.

Lying on the couch behind them, Samantha watched Mike, thinking that it was odd that in such a short time all other men seemed to pale beside him. She watched him move, watched the way his muscles moved under his thin T-s.h.i.+rt, looked at the dark curls of his hair.

Suddenly, it hit her how close she had come to death. Remembering the manas hands on her throat, she could almost feel her life being squeezed from her. Yet, in the middle of that, she had known, known, that Mike would come to her if she could just make some sort of signal.

Now that she thought of it, she knew that hitting the wall with her heel was a very weak signal to send to someone who was asleep. How had Mike heard her three puny knocks? How had he known they were cries for help and not just normal sounds? She could have turned over in her sleep and hit the wall.

Yet somehow, Mike had heard her and head come to her rescue. When she thought of the door to her apartment with the hole in it, she felt chills run up her spine. Mike had put his foot through the panel and had reached inside to the lock. He had come through a solid oak door with the force of a bulldozer. Or a superman, she thought.

Now, she looked at him, at his profile. Was he actually the most beautiful man on earth, or was that just the way she saw him?

Looking down from his face to his strong neck, to his bare arm, the tricep well defined, to his small waist, his stomach hard and flat, her eyes moved downward to his legs, hairy and brown beneath his shorts.

When she looked back up at his face, Mike had turned to her and was watching her. Samantha looked away from his eyes, not wanting him to know that she had been looking at him.

Moving away from his friends, Mike came to sit by her on the couch. Behind him the men were arguing over the game, and the women were outside looking at Mikeas garden.

aAre you all right?a Mike asked, tucking the blanket around her, even though it was warm in the house.

She nodded, looking down at her hands.

Leaning toward her, Mike slipped her high collar down and put his hand on her throat, on the ring of yellow bruises there. As his fingers slipped around the back of her neck, his thumb rubbed over her lower lip.

Samanthaas breath caught in her throat as she looked into his dark eyes. It was as though they were alone in the room, but at the same time she was well aware of the other people around them. When Mike moved closer to her, she didnat pull away, and when his lips were inches from hers, she still didnat pull away. His breath was warm on her lips, warm and sweet and fragrant.

When he touched his lips to hers, she closed her eyes, but when he moved away, she opened them. He was looking at her, looking at her in a way that she didnat understand.

aSam,a he whispered, then kissed her in earnest, kissed her sweetly, not aggressively, but meltingly, as though he wanted to tell her something, as though he wanted to rea.s.sure hera"as though he wanted to tell her that he cared for her.

She put her hand up to his neck. Ah, she thought, to touch Mike, to feel the warm skin that she looked at so often, to feel the curls of his hair about her fingers. She applied pressure to his neck with her fingertips and he moved his head, his kiss deepening.

Samantha lay back against the pillows, her fingers tightening on his neck, her mouth opening a bit as she felt the sweetness of Mikeas tongue touch hers. He wasnat jumping on her, wasnat forcing her, wasnat overwhelming her.

It was he who pulled away. Her heart was pounding and her breathing was deep and fast.

aYou like that better, sweetheart?a he whispered.

aIa"a she started to say, but he put his lips to hers again and didnat allow her to speak.

Putting his hands on the side of her head, he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, then moved and touched her eyelids, her nose, her lips. After a moment, he pulled back and held up his hand. It was shaking. aYou do something to me, Sammy-girl. Iam not sure what it is, but Iave felt it since that first day.a It was the women coming in from outside that brought them back to the present. Straightening, Mike stood up from the couch, but the way he was looking at her with eyes so hot, eyes that asked so much of her, he may as well have still been kissing her.

aHave we interrupted something?a Anne asked. aMike, you and youratenant want us to leave?a Mike grinned at her. aActually, Iad rather you stayed. This house seems to get a little, ah, friendlier when there are people around.a Looking down at her hands, Samantha tried to keep anyone from seeing her blush. What Mike said was true: She felt safer when there were other people with them. When there was an audience, she was sure Mike wasnat going to do something that would take her where she didnat want to go.

At four everyone was starving, so Jess ordered food, enough for at least twenty people. When it was set up on the picnic table, Mike insisted on carrying Samantha outside.

aShut up,a he said when she started to protest. aYou act like Iam a s.e.x deviant when weare alone, but you let me kiss you when the house is full of other people. If the presence of other people loosens you up, I will consider keeping the house packed. Now be still and let me enjoy myself.a She couldnat keep from smiling as she put her head into the curve of his shoulder.

Mike kissed her forehead. aSam, you go to bed with me and Iall show you a real good time. I swear.a She laugheda"but she wasnat tempted, not actually. She liked this much, much better than what people did in bed together. She liked the touching and the caressing, the kissing, liked the feel of Mikeas breath on her lips, the sight of his muscles moving beneath his clothes. She liked sitting close to him, liked the way he leaned over her when he tucked the blanket around her. All in all, she liked the way a man treated a woman before head had what he wanted from her. After he got that, everything changed.

The five of them laughed and talked all through the meal. They talked of people Samantha didnat know, but they always made an effort to explain who the people were. Corey told stories about Mike as a child.

aDid you tell Sam what you did to your sisteras friendsa clothes?a she asked Mike, pointing a plastic fork at him.

With an embarra.s.sed chuckle, Mike looked at his plate. aI somehow forgot to mention that.a aAll those girls in those white clothes,a Corey said, laughing.

At the mention of white clothes, Samantha became alert. She motioned Corey to tell the story, but Corey looked at Mike, at his pleading eyes, and said no, that it was Mikeas story. Nothing anyone said could entice Mike to tell the story.

After dinner, they went into the living room where Mike put on Kiri Te Kanawa singing Puccini and talked. Samantha got Corey into a corner and wrote on her pad, Tell me about Mike.

aWhat do you want to know?a Samantha put her hands palm up to signify that anything Corey told her would be all right.

aI donat know where to begin. He has eleven brothers and sisters, anda"a She laughed when Samanthaas mouth dropped open in shock. aThere are a lot of Taggerts in Chandler.a Are they very poor? Samantha wrote.

Corey gave a snort of laughter, then began chuckling as she put her hand on Samanthaas arm. aYou should ask him about that. Letas see, what else can I tell you? Mikeas degree is in mathematics. He did all the course work for a Ph.D., but then got interested in his old gangster and never finished his dissertation.a She looked at Sam. aHis father would love for him to finish his degree. Maybe you could influence him.a Samantha shrugged to show that she had no influence over him. She and Mike were nothing to each other, just temporarily living together, and the fact that Mike spent a great deal of time trying to get her to go to bed with him meant nothing. As far as Samantha could tell, all men did that to all women. It meant nothing before the event and less than nothing afterward.

aMike,a Corey said as she picked up a calculator from a bookcase, awhatas two hundred and thirty-seven times two thousand six hundred and eighty-one?a Mike didnat look around, nor did he take so much as a second before he answered. aSix hundred thirty-five thousand, three hundred ninety-seven.a When Corey showed Samantha the calculator reading, she saw that Mike was correct. aThe whole family is like that,a Corey whispered. aIn school we all thought they should have been in a circus.a She pressed Samanthaas arm. aMikeas a good guy, a really good guy.a Samantha looked across the room at him, and as she did so, Mike turned and winked at her. Sam smiled in return.

Why do you like white so much? Samantha wrote on her pad. She was once again in Mikeas bed, and the house was empty and quiet, and she was very tired. In spite of the fact that she hadnat done much that day, it had been a tiring one. Now, she wanted to go to sleep and she didnat want to have to wrestle with Mike, didnat want him trying to continue what they had started on the couch in the library.

aYou sure you want to know?a She nodded as he tucked her in, then started to protest when he stretched out on the bed and put his head in her lap, but he acted as though he didnat hear her.

aWhen I was fifteen my sister, she was about nineteen, I guess, brought home four of her college friends to spend a week at our house. I thought those girls were the most beautiful creatures Iad ever seen. I followed them around everywhere and they teased me mercilessly.

aTo this day I donat know what made me do it, but one day while they were out swimming, I gathered up all their clothes and took them downstairs, threw them in the washers, and added three cups of bleach to each load, then turned on the hot water.

aWhen the girls got back, they had nothing to wear except their swim suits and clothes that were white and tiny.a He stared into s.p.a.ce for a few moments. aThey were beautiful. Tiny white shorts. Microscopic T-s.h.i.+rts. Skirts that only reached midthigh.a What did your parents do? Samantha wrote.

aIt took them half a day to figure out who had done ita"I do have brothers, you knowa"but when they found out, my mother said I should be blindfolded and stood up against an outside wall of the house and the girls should be given shotguns. But Dad said head take me outside and beat me. So we walked outside, he grinned at me, rubbed my head, and sent me off to spend the rest of the week with Uncle Mike, but he told me to limp whenever I saw my mother.a Thatas all that was done to you?!!!!! she wrote.

aSure. Dad took the girls into Denver and bought them new clothes. After the girls left, my father gave me a small white s.h.i.+rt that had no b.u.t.tons down the front. He said one of the girls had worn it to breakfast, and when shead reached for something, all the b.u.t.tons had popped off. He even saved a b.u.t.ton for me.a Why didnat the girls borrow clothes from your sister or your mother and cover themselves?

Mike looked surprised, then smiled, then he laughed. aWhat a very, very good question. Maybe they liked my father and my brothers starting at them in open-mouthed admiration.a Still grinning, he rolled off of her and stood up. He stretched and yawned, with Samanthaas eyes never leaving his body, especially when his s.h.i.+rt pulled up and exposed his bare stomach. Did he have any idea what he looked like when he did that? she wondered.

Abruptly, he stopped yawning and looked down at her, as though he knew very well that she was watching him. aThatas your story for tonight. You wouldnat like to change your mind aboutayou know?a He nodded toward the empty side of the bed.

Sam shook her head no.

Then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he bent to kiss her lips. But Samantha turned her head away. When she looked back at him, he was bending over her, staring at her.

aSometimes you remind me of those high school girls that you take out to drive-in movies. You go out one night and spend the whole night kissing and, after hours of work, finally getting your hand under her blouse. The next time you go out you think youare going to work on her skirt, but instead, she makes you start back at square one: She wonat even let you kiss her.a In spite of herself, Samantha giggled. She could easily imagine Mike as a randy high school boy.

aTell me, Sam, did the boys have to start over again with you with each date?a When she didnat answer him, he handed her the pad and pencil. I never had a date in high school, she wrote.

Mike had to read her sentence three times before he looked up at her in disbelief, then taking the pencil from her he wrote, Have you ever been to bed with any man other than the jerk you were married to?

She didnat want to answer his question. Why a jerk? she wrote.

aHe lost you, didnat he? Any man whoad do that has to be stupid.a Samantha laughed, then punched his shoulder. He was lying; he was flattering her, but still, having someone call her ex-husband a jerk pleased her.

aHow about a goodnight kiss? Nothing more than that. Iall keep my hands on your shoulders. Trust me. I promise.a She wasnat strong enough to say no to kissing Michael, especially when he was looking at her like that. As he leaned on the bed, a hand on each side of her hips, she gave him a tentative nod, and he sat down on the bed again and put his hands on her upper arms. Slowly he brought his lips to hers.

With each kiss, she experienced wonder that something could be so lovely. As head done today, he didnat force her or try to leap on top of her. She began to sink into his kiss, began to trust him as she slumped back against the pillows, her eyes closed, her body relaxed.

aGood night,a he said softly, and Samantha almost wished he wouldnat leave.

Getting off the bed, he turned off the light switch and went down the hall.

He asked her to trust him and she was beginning to, but, she thought as she snuggled down into the covers, would he trust her?

It had taken two days, but she had made her decision: She was going to look for her grandmother.

16.

aI am going to look for my grandmother.a Samantha and Mike were in the bedroom of her apartment. She had slept downstairs in his bed, but early this morning, before shead heard him stirring in the bedroom next door, shead come upstairs to get dressed. When shead come out of her bedroom, Mike had been standing in the living room, waiting for her. He thought she was getting ready to go with his cousin Raine to Maine, and it had taken all her courage to tell him that she wasnat going, she was staying here in New York with him.

Pretending he didnat hear her, Mike didnat even bother to answer. aMontgomery will be here any minute. All of them are punctual, so he wonat be even a minute late. I bought you some chocolate chip m.u.f.fins for the trip, because if I know the Montgomerys, theyall feed you something like broccoli and carrot souffl. Maybe I ought to call Kaplanas Deli and get you a couple of pastrami sandwiches and a six-pack of beer. Beeras nice on a trip, anda"a aMike,a she said softly, astop pretending you didnat hear me. Iam not leaving. Iam going to look for my grandmother.a aLike h.e.l.l you are,a he said, grabbing her tote bag in one hand and her elbow with the other.

aI am not leaving. And thatas empty.a She nodded toward the tote bag.

aNo problem. When you get to Connecticut have Montgomery stop and buy you whatever you need. Better yet, wait until you get to Maine.a When Mike wouldnat release her arm, she did the only thing she could think of: She sat down on the floor. aIam not leaving here and Iam not going to Maine. I am going to remain in New York to look for my grandmother.a Putting his strong hands on her upper arms, Mike lifted her. When Samantha remained rigid, he set her on the edge of the couch.

aSamantha,a he began.

aItas no use trying to think of what to say to make me see your side of it. I have made up my mind.a Several emotions crossed Mikeas face, then he sat down heavily beside her. aIall close the house if I have to, then you wonat have any place to stay.a aFine. Iall rent another apartment.a Mike gave a grunt then a lopsided grin. aAnd whoall take care of you? The doorman? Sam, youare so terrified of New York you havenat even gone around the block by yourself. How do you expect to find your grandmother without me to help you? And Iam going to refuse to help you.a Turning her to face him, he took her hands in his aLook, sweetheart, in any other instance, Iad love to have you with me, but this is dangerous.a She raised one eyebrow. aMenas work?a He squeezed her hands. aDonat give me that womenas lib c.r.a.p! Iam not talking about who does the dishes, Iam talking about life and death.a aAnd what makes you think youad make a better detective than me? Youave been researching for two years, and Iave found out more in a few weeks than you have.a Mike nearly choked on what he wanted to say. aFound out? You call the bruises on your neck afinding outa?a She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them tightly. aShe is my grandmother, she was involved with a hideous man, and my father wanted me to look for her.a aYour father had no idea his mother was involved with gangstersa"at least not real gangsters. Today gangsters sound kind of cute, and besides, your dad thought his mother ran away because of love.a aAnd why do you think she ran away?a Mike put his nose nearly to hers. aMoney. Murder. She knew something. It could be a million reasonsa"maybe three million reasonsa"but none of them are good, which is why you are going to Maine where itas safe.a She took a deep breath. There was no way in the world he was going to change her mind, but on the other hand, she wanted to stay in his house. It was comfortable here; the garden was pretty; it was a nice location. And, well, okay, she was rather familiar with Mike and if she did ever again need helpa"which of course she wasnat going toa"he did have rather fast reactions.

aMike,a she asked, awhy are you researching this man?a She narrowed her eyes at him. aThe truth. I want the truth, not one of your lies, no matter how sweetly you tell it.a Releasing her hands, he stood up and walked to the window. aFor my uncle Mike,a he said, then turned back to her. aRemember when Doc said that Scalpinias men shot a lot of innocent people in the nightclub?a She nodded.

aMy uncle Mike worked there. He danced with the women whose husbands and boyfriends were too fat to dance, and he was on the dance floor when Scalpinias men arrived. He took thirty-two bullets below the waist.

aThirty-two,a she whispered. aAnd he lived?a aBarely. It was touch and go for a long time, but he not only lived, he learned to walk on crutches. He and my grandfather were in the navy together and Mike saved Grampas life, so when Mike needed help, Gramps gave it. He brought Uncle Mike to Chandler, hired the best medical people, and helped him get well. Uncle Mike lived in a little house behind ours.a aAnd he was your friend?a aThe best of friends. Sometimes a person can get lost in a family the size of mine, but Uncle Mike always had time for me. He never lost patience with me, and he always took my side in any sc.r.a.pea"even when I was in the wrong.a aHe sounds like a nice man.a aHe was.a Looking up at him, she saw the sadness in his eyes and knew they shared something, this loss of people they loved. aAnd you want to bring justice to Doc because of what was done to your uncle Mike?a aSomething like that.a aDo you realize that if Scalpini hadnat shot Mike, youad probably never have met him? In my case, my family was already formed, we were happy, but something that probably had to do with that night in 1928 broke my family apart. Donat I have a right to know what happened? To know what made my grandmother leave?a He went to sit by her again. aOf course you do. Iall call you every day. I was going to anyway, buta"a aWere you?a aWas I where?a aNo. Were you planning to call me every day?a He gave her a look of disbelief. aYou donat think I was going to send you into a town full of Montgomerys and not have daily contact with you, do you? Do you think Iam a fool?a aAnd what would we talk about? Doc?a Laughing, Mike reached out to touch her hair. aSometimes, Sam-Sam, I think there are parts of your education missing. What do all boys and girls who have the hots for each other talk about for hours at a time?a Turning red, Samantha looked down at her hands. It was the first thing head said that made her actually consider going to Maine. She recovered herself. aI am going to remain here and look for my grandmother,a she said firmly. aAnd anything youa"a She quit talking because Mike had put his hand behind her head and drawn her mouth to his. He kissed her with such hunger that Samantha could feel herself beginning to tremble as she put her hands on his ribs, feeling the thick pad of muscle there.

aDonat you think I want you to stay here? Donat you think I love having you here with me? Youare the only person besides your father whoas shown any interest in my biography. My dad nags me about finis.h.i.+ng my dissertation so I can get a doctorate. But for what? I donat want to teach and I donat want to work in an office somewhere. My brothers laugh at me and talk about my aold gangsters.a Sam, maybe I donat want to do this biography just for Uncle Mike. Maybe I want to do it for myself because itas so difficult for me. In college, math was easy, too easy, but spending days alone in a library, up to my neck in falling-apart old books, then some girl in a short skirt walks by and sheas got a rear end on her thataa He grinned. aAnyway, writing has been a challenge, and I get distracted easily, but it hasnat been much fun until you came along. You sit with me and type my notes and we talk about things and I can bounce ideas off of you anda"a Lifting first one hand then the other, he kissed her palms. aAnd sometimes you let me kiss you. Itas been great, Sam, really great.a aAnd it will continue to be great,a she said, squeezing his hands in hers. aMike, we can work together on this. I like libraries; I likea"a aYeah, and I like having you alive.a She pulled away from him. aYouare going to lose this one. I am going to remain in New York and Iam going to search for my grandmother. As far as I can see, you have two choices: One, I stay here in this house with you and we look together, or two, I move to another apartment and I look by myself.a aThis is too serious, Sam. This is too dangerous. Why are you doing this? We can drop this now and from the looks of him, Doc will be dead in a few years, then we cana"a aBut thatas just it, Mike,a she said enthusiastically. aDonat you see? If Doc is still alive, then my grandmother might still be alive.a aThat doesnat follow.a She looked at him hard. When shead first met him, head been able to tell her lies and keep secrets from her without her detecting his deception, but now he couldnat. Right now there was an insincerity on his face, a tightness about his mouth that she was beginning to recognize. aYouare holding something back,a she whispered. aI can see it in your eyes.a Mike got off the couch, but Samantha put herself in front of him. aWhat do you know?a aNothing,a he said angrily, turning away from her.

aMichael Taggert, if you donat tell me what you know IallaIallaa aWhat?a he asked in disgust. aWhat else can you do to me? Put your life in jeopardy? Blackmail me? Run around in front of me in white shorts and T-s.h.i.+rt and yell rape when I touch you?a aIall kiss Raine Montgomery,a she said. aIall date him. Iall go out with him every night. Ialla"a Turning on his heel, Mike started to leave her apartment.

She caught his arm. aMike, wait, please. Canat you understand? What if you found out that your uncle Mike wasnat dead, after all? Or that there was a chance that he may not be dead? Wouldnat you do everything you could to find him? To see him just one more time before he was gone? My grandmother is eighty-some years old, I donat have time to wait. Please tell me what you know. Please.a Putting her hand up, she touched his cheek.

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. aSam, you do something to me. You turn me into a kid again.a He took a deep breath. aYour father told me that as of two years ago your grandmother was alive.a Samantha checked herself in the mirror in the foyer, making sure her clothes were straight and that her hair was arranged the way the hairdresser had taught her, then she put her purse on the narrow table and made sure that she had her new credit cards and cash. When she couldnat think of another thing to check or anything to do that would enable her to postpone what she planned to do, she put her hand on the doork.n.o.b, straightened her shoulders, and opened the door.

She was going to go out into New York all by herself. This time she was going farther than just around the block; this time she was going to spend the entire afternoon in the city by herself.

After locking the door behind her, she started down the stairs. This morning Mike had told her that her grandmother was alive as of two years ago. Head explained that two years ago her father had received a postcard from his mother, and it was the card that had made David Elliot decide to try to find his mother. The postcard had been simple, saying only that she loved him, had always loved him, and that she hoped head forgive her. At the bottom, it had been signed aYour mother.a At the time head received the card, Dave had had his accounting office to run and couldnat so much as take a vacation to New York, but immediately upon receipt of that card head started making preparations to take an early retirement so he could search for his mother.

Then, by a stroke of luck, fate, kismet, joss, or whatever one wanted to call it, six months after head received the card, Mike had appeared at his door and asked if Daveas mother had once had an affair with a gangster by the name of Doc.