Page 71 of Close Up

“You did me a great favor, Mrs. Sundridge. I wanted you to know that I haven’t forgotten and that I meant what I said at the time. I’m in your debt.”

“There is no debt, so please don’t worry about it,” Vivian said. “And you must call me Vivian.”

“Thank you, Vivian,” he said.

He swept Lyra down a carpeted aisle to the dance floor.

“Don’t say it,” Vivian said.

Nick did not take his eyes off Ripley and Lyra. “Don’t say what?”

“Don’t say something along the lines of what are the odds the famous actor whose reputation I protected when I declined to photograph him at the scene of the Carstairs murder would make it a point to stop at this table tonight.”

“That’s a rather long and convoluted sentence so I won’t say it. I’ll shorten it. What are the odds?”

“Probably not all that bad when you think about it,” Vivian said. “Burning Cove is an obvious destination for an actor of Fleming’s stature.”

“He’s staying at the same hotel.”

“So? He’s Hollywood royalty. The Burning Cove Hotel is where people like Fleming stay when they’re in town.”

“Any way you slice this it comes up looking a lot like a very striking coincidence.”

“There are such things as coincidence, you know.”

“Not when we’re in the process of trying to catch a killer—” Nick broke off because a waiter was approaching the booth.

“A message from Mr. Pell.” The waiter put a small envelope down on the table.

“Thank you,” Nick said. He opened the envelope. There was a card inside.

“Is something wrong?” Vivian asked.

“No,” Nick said. He slipped the envelope inside his jacket. “It looks like something has finally gone right for a change. Pell is upstairs in his private quarters. He just got a call from the Broker. The individual who wants to buy the journal has agreed to our arrangements. The transaction takes place tomorrow night.”

Vivian tensed. “I know you and Luther believe you have things under control but there is no such thing as a foolproof plan.”

Nick smiled. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like me. Always looking for all the possible ways things can go wrong.”

“Maybe your pessimistic view of the world has started to rub off on me.”

“There’s a fix for that.”

“What?”

“Why do you think they invented dancing?”

Nick got to his feet and reached out to take her hand.

When they walked onto the dance floor he took her into his arms.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “Dancing is an excellent remedy for dark thoughts.”

His warm palm slid down the bare skin of her back.

“I can think of something that works even better,” he said.

He said the words very softly in his midnight voice. A thrilling shiver of anticipation electrified Vivian’s senses.

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