Page 53 of Close Up

She went very still, everything inside her tense with anticipation. She knew then that on some level this was what she had been waiting for since the moment she had opened her door at the beach house and found him on the front step.

Her name. Spoken in the intimate shadows of a moonlit garden.

When she turned back to face him, she found him standing less than a foot away.

“Yes,” she said.

He did not speak. Instead, he held out his hand. She took it.

He pulled her gently toward him and covered her mouth with his own.

Chapter 23

Toby Flint lit another cigarette with shaking fingers, dug some change out of the pocket of his overcoat, and stepped into the phone booth. What he was about to do scared the hell out of him but he had no choice. He shouldn’t have followed Vivian to Burning Cove. He should have just taken the blood money, paid off the loan shark, and left town. He would never let himself get in so deep again.

But even as he made the vow he knew he was doomed. The gambling gave him a thrill he couldn’t get any other way. And once in a while he won...

Toby dialed the operator.

“Burning Cove Hotel,” he said.

He braced one hand against the wall of the booth and gazed out into the night-darkened street. It was after midnight and that particular section of downtown Burning Cove was drenched in silence. The stylish shops and sidewalk cafés were closed. During the day the palm-shaded plazas were crowded with fashionable people on vacation in the glamorous seaside town. But at this hour the neighborhood wasdeserted. Visitors were spending the evening in the local nightclubs and hotel lounges hoping to see and be seen with celebrities and stars.

The shopping district seemed peaceful but he couldn’t shake the sense that he was being watched.

“Burning Cove Hotel,” a polished male voice said. “How may I assist you?”

“I want to talk to Vivian Brazier.”

“I’m sorry, sir, there is no one here by that name.”

“Look, I know she’s staying there.”

“There is no one registered under that name. I’m afraid you have the wrong hotel.”

“Wait, don’t hang up. Damn it, I know she’s there.” Toby tried to think. “She may have checked in under another name. She probably has a camera with her. She’s a photographer.”

“That’s not a helpful description. Several of our guests have cameras. I strongly urge you to try one of the other local hotels.”

“If you won’t put me through at least take a message. This is important.”

“We don’t take messages for people who are not registered.”

“Tell her Toby Flint called. Tell her it’s a matter of life and death. I need to talk to her. Now. Tonight. I’m in a phone booth on Olive Street near a shop named the Elegant Lady. Tell her I’ve got some important information to sell her. I’ll wait thirty minutes. After that I’m going to disappear.”

“We don’t—”

“Just give her the damned message. Be sure she knows to bring some cash.”

Toby slammed the receiver into the cradle. That was it. He’d done what he could to make up for his betrayal. He’d give Cinderella thirty minutes, no more.

After a couple of minutes he realized he didn’t like standing in the phone booth under the glare of the streetlight. It made him feelvulnerable. A target. His sedan was parked across the street. The money he had received up front was in a briefcase in the trunk of his car. He would add whatever cash Vivian brought with her tonight and then he would head for Mexico.

The plan to collect from both the killer and from Vivian and then hightail it to the border had come to him that morning. The shark would not be able to follow him into Mexico. Neither would the killer.

He moved out of the phone booth and started across the street to his Ford. Halfway to his goal he heard a vehicle engine roar to life. A car pulled out of the shadows of a nearby alley and came toward him, accelerating rapidly. He was pinned in the blinding glare of the headlights.

He hesitated, frantically trying to calculate whether he should run toward his car or try to retreat.

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