Since connecting Talia to Jasper in Key West, he’d taken these items along whenever he went out. As a precaution. Just in case someone came searching the apartment. Someone to whom a locked door wouldn’t be a deterrent.
And if someone did come snooping, he wanted to know it.
So he’d taken another precaution.
He picked up the lamp by its base and lowered it to the side of the bed where he had sprinkled talcum onto the floor, but not so much that it would be noticeable unless one was looking.
“Huh.”
Between the time he’d left for his dinner and now, the powder had been smeared, as though someone had knelt at the side of the bed, perhaps to look beneath it or between the mattress and box spring.
He set the lamp back on the nightstand and switched it out, picked up the binoculars, opened the bedroom door, and went into the living room. At the window, he focused on the house next door. There were no lights on inside, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t being watched.
Jasper had never intended to make that dinner date. He’d had other plans for the evening.
Drex huffed a soft laugh. “Bad oysters my ass.”
Chapter 13
Talia never touched the latte.
She had bought it only to rent a table, which were in short supply. The coffee shop was an offshoot of the ground floor lobby of the multistoried medical building. This morning the place was crowded; the baristas were bustling to fill orders.
Talia surmised that countless patients had come here following medical procedures or examinations, the outcomes of which were either cause for celebration or cause for an immediate reevaluation of one’s priorities.
At a table near hers, a young couple was laughing into a cell phone, sharing obviously happy news on FaceTime. Also nearby was an older couple. The woman was crying softly into a tissue while the man sat with shoulders slumped, his features haggard, his eyes glazed with despair.
Talia’s emotions fit somewhere in between. She wasn’t happy, but she refused to let hopelessness set in.
“Talia?”
She raised her head. Drex Easton was standing over her.
“I thought it was you. I spotted you from…” He paused in jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the lobby and leaned down to take a closer look at her. “What’s the matter?”
She bowed her head again and pressed her fingertips against her forehead. He was the last person she would wish to bump into right now. She simply wasn’t up to dealing with him. Rather than engage at all, she chose to retreat. She picked up her handbag and stood. “I was just about to leave. You can have the table.”
But as she moved away, he closed his hand around her biceps, stopping her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t say nothing. Something. Are you sick? Did Jasper have a contagious bug after all?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Let go of my arm.”
“Talia—”
“Let go.” She pulled her arm free.
He reached for her again.
“Everything okay here?”
Talia hadn’t noticed the approach of the other man until he was right there with them. He divided a concerned look between her and Drex, landing on Drex, a frown of stern disapproval forming between his eyebrows. She then became aware that other customers had stopped what they were doing to observe them.
Drex said, “Yeah, pal, everything’s cool.”
The man didn’t excuse himself or back down, but continued to glower at Drex with suspicion.
Drex glowered back. “I said, everything’s cool.”
Ignoring him, the man looked at her, asking softly, “Ma’am?”
She swallowed. “Everything’s fine.” Her smile was wobbly and unconvincing, so she added, “I’m was upset, am upset, about…about…”
“About her dad’s diagnosis,” Drex said. “They’re close.”
Talia marveled at the ease with which he lied. Going back to the stranger, she said, “I appreciate your concern. Truly. But I’m fine. I just needed some air.”
“Sure, honey.” Drex shot the man a dirty look as he brushed past him, then, cupping her elbow, maneuvered her out of the coffee shop.
He guided her across the lobby to a seating area that was sectioned off by a row of potted plants. They lent some privacy, but Talia didn’t want privacy with Drex. Nothing good had come of the times when they had been alone; Jasper seemed not to like it, and, besides, Drex’s smarmy behavior of the night before was still fresh in her mind.
He motioned for her to sit down on one of the padded benches.
She shook her head. “I have to go.”
He looked at her with consternation. “You’re upset.”
“I wasn’t until you intruded.”
He just stood there, an imposing presence she couldn’t go around without creating another scene. She plopped down on the bench. He perched on the edge of another that faced hers. She moved her knees aside so they wouldn’t be so close to touching his.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing. You’re making way too much of—”
“Something’s wrong. I can tell.”
“How can you tell? You don’t know me well enough to gauge my moods. You don’t know me at all.”
In a sudden move, he leaned forward and said with heat, “And that’s eating at me. A lot.”
The change in his bearing was discomfiting. She reclined back to compensate for his nearness. “Why should it? If my whole world is caving in, what business is it of yours?”
“Is your whole world caving in?”
“No!” she exclaimed.
“Then why were you sitting there, staring into your coffee so morosely?”
“Morosely?”
“Till I looked it up, I didn’t know what it meant, either.”
“I know what it means, and so do you.”
“All right then, what made you morose?”
“Lord,” she said, huffing a breath. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
By way of an answer, he folded his arms over his chest and settled on the bench as though in it for the long haul.
She closed her eyes briefly, then, resigned, said, “I had just come from the dentist. Top floor.” She raised her hand to indicate the stories above them. “I was still a bit woozy from the chill pill they gave me. I thought a latte would perk me up before I started the drive home.”
Gingerly she touched the side of her face. “The numbing began to wear off. I wasn’t feeling all that great. Then you show up and make a spectacle of me.” She paused, took a breath, and narrowed her eyes on him. “Don’t ever grab me like that again.”
“I didn’t grab you.”
She gave him a withering look.
He raked his fingers through his hair, turned his head aside and looked at the yellowing leaves on the nearest ficus tree, then came back to her. “I didn’t mean for it to be a grab. I didn’t mean to make a spectacle of you. I apologize.”
He appeared to mean it. “Apology accepted.” After a short silence, she said, “I thought you were going to Florida.”