Play Dead

“We’d like to see Mr. Richard Corsel,” Laura said.

“I see,” Eleanor Tansmore replied. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Not exactly,” Laura said, “but he knows we’re coming.”

“Well, Mr. Corsel is very busy today. Perhaps you can call later and set up an appointment.”

“I have a better idea,” Serita interrupted. “Why don’t you buzz Mr. Corsel and tell him we’re here?”

“And whom shall I say is calling?”

Serita smiled devilishly. “We’re the two women Mr. Corsel purchased from our, uh, agent. A Mr. Tyrone Landreaux.”

“Excuse me?” the secretary said.

“One black, one white. Just like he ordered.”

“What?”

“Hurry, honey. Buzz him. My time is money. Big money, if you know what I mean.”

Eleanor Tansmore lifted the phone and smiled wryly. “Did you bring your own whips and chains this time?” she asked Serita. “You know how Mr. Corsel hates to use his own.”

Serita looked at the woman in astonishment. “Are you putting me on?”

“Yes.”

A smile of respect danced across Serita’s lips. “You’re all right, Mrs. T.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Mrs. Tansmore replied. “Now sit down over there.”

“I’m sorry for my friend’s behavior,” Laura interrupted, “but if you could just tell Mr. Corsel that Laura Baskin is here to see him, I think he’ll make time to see us.”

“Laura Baskin? The model?”

“Former model,” Laura corrected.

“I read about your husband. I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Eleanor Tansmore looked toward Serita. “And who is your witty companion?”

“Her bodyguard,” Serita replied.

The secretary smiled a phony secretary’s smile. “If you’ll both sit down, I’ll buzz Mr. Corsel.”

Laura and Serita sat down. One of the office doors opened, and a short executive with a thin mustache came out.

“That him?” Serita asked.

Laura shook her head no.

“Good.”

The executive stared at the two gorgeous women sitting in the waiting room. He sucked in his protruding stomach and smiled at them. Serita returned his greeting with a seductive wink. Then she slowly crossed her mile-long legs. The man nearly tripped over his own tongue. Serita laughed.

“Cut that out,” Laura warned.

“Sorry.”

“I swear, I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I’m just trying to keep the mood light.”

“Knock it off.”

“Okay, but I’ve never seen you so uptight. It’s not good for you, Laura. I’m just trying to keep you loose.”

“Serita?”

“What?”

“Am I crazy? I mean, all this conspiracy and murder stuff.”

Serita shrugged. “Probably.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, Laura, you’re not going to put this behind you until you figure out exactly what the hell happened. So go for it. Leave no stone unturned. If there’s something weird going on, you’ll find it. If not, you’ll find that out, too.”

Eleanor Tansmore came over. “Mr. Corsel will see you now.”

Laura rose. “You coming?”

“Nah,” Serita answered with a smile, “I’ll wait here with my buddy Mrs. T. Tear him apart on your own.”

“You’re a good friend,” Laura said. She turned and headed down the hallway.

When Laura disappeared into Corsel’s office, the smile vanished from Serita’s face. She blinked away a tear. “The best,” she whispered to herself.

DR. James Ayars faced his wife of thirty-three years. His mind flashed back to the first time they had met. He had been an intern in Chicago, working a hundred hours a week when it was slow. At the time, he had been dating a bright student from the University of Chicago named Judy Simmons. Pretty little Judy Simmons. Nice girl. Auburn hair. Fine figure. Fun to be with. Young Dr. Ayars had been very taken with Judy Simmons.

Until he met her younger sister, Mary.

The first time Judy introduced him to Mary, he felt a gurgling in the pit of his stomach. He had never seen such a beautiful creature in his life, never imagined such beauty existed. Mary Simmons smiled at him on that day, casting her powerful spell of sensuality upon him. The spell left him writhing and helpless in her presence. His eyes burned with unquenchable desire whenever he saw her. He knew that he would have to make her his wife. No matter what, he had to have her, possess her, cherish her. . . .

The obsession had frightened him.

Of course it had not been that easy. There was Judy to consider, but sweet, kind Judy had understood. She stepped out of the way and wished them both the best of luck.

Now, some thirty-four years later, Mary was still ravishing. There were still times when James’s stomach gurgled when he beheld her awesome beauty. Their marriage had had its share of problems (what marriage didn’t?), but overall, James would have said it had been excellent. They had raised two wonderful children. Life had been good . . . except . . .

“What’s going on?” James asked his wife.

“Going on?” Mary repeated.

“You know what I mean. First you didn’t approve of David. Now you don’t approve of his brother. Why?”

Mary swallowed. “I . . . I’m not really sure. I just don’t trust that family.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t really know, James.”

“Mary, you’ve always been a good mother. I’ve always been very proud of the way you’ve handled our daughters. Do you remember when Gloria was having all her problems and I swore I would never let her back in this house again?”

Mary nodded.

“Well, I was wrong,” James said. “And you knew it. But you knew fighting me on the subject would be worthless. So instead, you showed me with kind words. You made me understand that no matter what Gloria had done, she was still our daughter. Do you remember?”

Again, Mary nodded.

“Now I think it’s my turn,” he continued. “I think you should seriously look at the consequences of what you are doing. Look at what happened when you rejected David—”

“What?” Mary interrupted loudly. “You’re not blaming me, too?”

“Laura doesn’t blame you,” he assured her gently, “and neither do I. Laura is in pain right now. She lashes out and says things she doesn’t mean.”