“He’s a freak.”
“Lexi, come on now. He’s your cousin.”
“No. No way. Why can’t I dance with Robbie? He’s my brother.”
Not for the first time, Peter was glad that so few people understood sign language. Lexi could be incredibly rude when she wanted to be, not to mention stubborn. He tried to make excuses for her. Her deafness must be horribly frustrating. Even so, it embarrassed him at times.
“Robbie’s playing piano. Uncle Barney roped him into it. Look, Max is coming over now. I’m warning you, Lexi, don’t make a scene.”
So many bodies in a confined space had made the house stiflingly hot. Max had removed his tie and jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. With his tanned skin and jet-black hair, he reminded Lexi of a pirate.
All he needs is the cutlass between his teeth.
“Would you like to dance?” He spoke deliberately slowly, as if Lexi were incapable of comprehending ordinary speech. He knew how much it irritated her, and was delighted to see the flash of anger in her eyes as he led her onto the floor. At a nod from Peter, Robbie began playing, Strauss’s “Blue Danube Waltz.”
Lexi was aware of hundreds of eyes watching them as Max guided her expertly around the room. She disliked dancing. Letting a man lead went against her nature anyway. Being deaf and unable to hear the music meant she had to place even more trust in her partner than other girls did. Lexi did not trust Max Webster as far as she could spit.
“Just relax. Lean into me.”
He overenunciated every word.
Lexi thought: I loathe you . Pressed against him, she breathed in the scent of his body. He smelled of sweat and aftershave. She was horrified to find herself feeling aroused. Why didn’t Christian Harle turn me on like this? What’s wrong with me?
The waltz ended. Robbie began playing another, and couples started drifting onto the dance floor. Lexi made as if to leave, but Max pulled her back.
“One more dance.”
It was not a request. It was a command. Lexi contemplated storming off, but they were already moving, swept up in the rhythm of the waltz. Max spun her around so she could read his lips.
“I know what you’ve been up to.”
Lexi ignored him
“You reek of sex.”
The words were so unexpected, at first she thought she’d misread what he said.
“What?”
“So, who was he? Anyone I know?”
This time there was no mistaking him. The sneer on Max’s face spoke a thousand words.
“Why don’t I take a guess? Christian Harle. Am I warm? Everyone knows you’ve had the hots for that Neanderthal since seventh grade.”
Lexi blushed furiously. Did everybody know? How?
“Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. I guess it could’ve been anyone, right? You’re probably as much of a slut as your mother was.”
How dare he talk about my mother! Lexi felt sick. Violated. She tried to wriggle free but Max’s grip was like iron. She could feel the friction burns forming on her wrists.
“Not so high-and-mighty now, are we?” Max taunted her. “What’s it worth for me not to tell your doting daddy what his princess has been doing tonight? Or should I say who she’s been doing? How about we go somewhere quiet, you suck my dick like a good little girl, and I’ll forget I know anything?”
Max laughed, spinning Lexi around and around till she felt nauseous. Someone tapped her on the back. It was one of her girlfriends, Donna Mastroni.
Thank God!
“Lexi, some guy’s here to see you. He says it’s important. Security stopped him at the gate, but he won’t leave.”
With Donna standing there, Max had no option but to let Lexi go.
With a parting look of purest hatred, Lexi followed Donna into the night.
The man was short and sallow-skinned. In his midfifties, he wore a cheap, shiny blue suit. His shoes were worn and scuffed with age. He introduced himself as Tommy King and handed Lexi a ratty-looking business card with visible thumb smudges at the corner.
KING & ASSOCIATES
Investigations
(212) 965-1165
Glancing around to make sure she was alone, Lexi whispered: “We can’t talk here. Far too dangerous.”
Tommy King followed her to a secluded corner of the grounds, far from the prying eyes of the security guards.
“Can you do the job?”
Tommy King smiled, revealing a crooked row of teeth more gold than enamel.
“I can do the job, princess. But it might take a while. You haven’t given me much to go on.”
Lexi cut to the chase.
“How much?”
“A hundred bucks a day. We bill monthly. You get a progress report at the end of each month, photographs, any other material we’ve managed to dig up. Expenses are extra.”
Lexi nodded.
“I’ll need a deposit to get started. Seven hundred plus five hundred for expenses.”
“You can have five hundred today. No more. I’ll pay you the rest when I get your first report.”
Tommy King scowled. Why was it always the richest clients who were the cheapest? The dress Lexi was wearing looked like it cost more than his apartment. Still, he figured, he shouldn’t be greedy. If he played his cards right and strung the thing out, the Blackwell girl could wind up being a gold mine.
“Fine. Five hundred. You have it with you?”
Lexi fumbled down the front of her dress and pulled a tightly rolled wad of notes from her bra. Looking around again, she thrust it into Tommy’s eagerly sweating hand.
After he was gone, she thought: What have I done? What if he runs off with that money and I never see hide nor hair of him again?