She groaned, looking down at her hands. “I’ve heard a piece of your story, and I’m not at all sure I want to hear the rest. Please…you’re very attractive. But I…I really have to ask you to stay away from me.”
There. She had managed it; she had said the words and told him to leave her alone.
He pulled away, straightening, his expression both resigned and regretful.
Suddenly she heard Heidi’s voice. “There you are! Lauren, why haven’t you been answering your phone? Oh, hi, Mark. Okay, now I know why you haven’t been answering. Can we join you? Or should we get lost?”
And Heidi wasn’t alone.
Deanna was with her.
Heidi’s voice was, teasing, the day sunny, everything normal. And yet…
4
Mark Davidson was charming, and of course both Heidi and Deanna were outrageous flirts when they wanted to be.
First, though, Lauren demanded to know where her friend had been. Deanna seemed surprised that Lauren had been so worried just because she’d wandered off and told her, “Shopping. And I’m perfectly capable of going in and out of stores alone. You’re the one who left us high and dry, you know.”
Ignoring that, Lauren asked, “Did you take a carriage ride?”
“A carriage ride? Why would I have taken a carriage ride?”
So whatever had so disturbed her was really nothing, Lauren thought. Maybe she needed to start worrying about herself.
Over a couple of really po’boys, Mark entertained them with tales of his travels, his writing—and his playing.
“So are you good?” Heidi asked good-naturedly.
“I leave that to the listener to decide.”
“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” Lauren said.
He justshrugged. “So, tell me more about your business,” he said.
He had quite a knack for turning the conversation away from himself, she thought—and decided not to allow it. “Mark lost a fianceé, too,” she said. “Her name was Katie, and she looked like me. Or I look like her.”
The table went dead silent.
“I’m so sorry,” Heidi said.
“Me too,” Deanna told him. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
Lauren noted the way he studied her in return. Not lasciviously, more as if he were searching for something, expecting her to give herself away somehow.
“He’s worried about us,” Lauren added.
“Why?” Heidi asked.
“Because of that body they found in the Mississippi,” Lauren said.
To her surprise, Heidi bestowed a tremendous smile on the man. “That is so sweet of you!”
“Imagine. We go on vacation and find a handsome protector,” Deanna said. She turned to Lauren. “And he’s in the cottage right next to ours.”
They were both crazy, Lauren decided. The sun was too much for them. And the way they were flirt…She wasn’t sure whether to scream or vomit.
“He thinks he knows who the killer is, that it’s the same man who killed his fianceé.”
“Oh, my God!” Deanna said, leaning forward and touching him gently, real concern in her eyes.
“I didn’t actually say that he killed her, but he was responsible for her death,” Mark said, frowning at Lauren.
“You should go to the police if you have any information at all,” Heidi told him.
“You’re right, I should,” he said. To Lauren’s surprise, he stood. “I think I’ll take a stroll down to the station right now. Thanks so much for letting me join you for lunch,” he said. “And I’m in cottage six, if you need me.”
“Are you two insane!” Lauren asked in a vehement whisper as he walked away. When he looked back with a glance of amusement; she knew that, even at a distance, he had heard her, and she blushed.
“What is the matter with you?” Heidi demanded. “He’s unbelievable.”
“That would be the point,” Lauren muttered.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Heidi announced. “He obviously has the hots for you, but if you’re going to be an idiot and turn down a good man, let Deanna have a crack at him.”
“Lauren, if you’re not interested in him, you’re going off the deep end,” Deanna told her.
“Hey, I wasn’t the one sleepwalking,” she snapped. “And he’s lying—I’ll be you he’s lying. He isn’t going to the police station.”
“We can follow him and find out,” Deanna suggested.
“Yeah—right after we pay the check. He joined us for lunch and walked out,” Lauren reminded them, waved a hand to signal the waitress.
“May we have the check, please?” Lauren asked when the woman came over.
“The gentleman gave me his credit card before he joined you,” she said. “You don’t have a check.”
“Oh. Thanks,” Lauren said, staring at her blankly.
“I’ll leave the tip,” Heidi offered.
“He was really generous,” the waitress said. “You don’t need to. Honestly.”
“Thanks,” Heidi told her. “We’ll…we’ll just add to it,” she said lamely.
Lauren rose along with Deanna, as their friend dug in her purse, then laid a bill on the table. “Hey, look at this.” Heidi said.
It was the beautiful antique cross. He’d left it on the table, Lauren realized.
“Where did this come from?” Heidi asked curiously.
“Mr. Gorgeous left it,” Lauren said. She shook her head, but took the cross from Heidi. “Come on, I’m going to prove to you both that he’s full of shit.”
She led them quickly through the French Quarter, for once ignoring the architecture that never failed to enthrall her and the street musicians who somehow always sounded so good. When they reached the police station. Lauren opened the door to go in, then froze.
Mark Davidson was there, talking to the desk sergeant.
She backed out of the doorway, stunned.
“Ouch,” Heidi protested, as Lauren stepped on her foot.
“I take it Mr. Davidson is inside?” Deanna said dryly.
“Yes,” Lauren said, puzzled.
“See?” Deanna said.
“Something’s still…not right,” Lauren said.
“You always think something not right,” Deanna told her. “Lauren, you can’t live your life with nothing ever being right,” she added gently.
“You don’t understand,” Lauren tried to explain.
“Yes, we do.” Both of them spoke in unison, looking at her in concern. They were convinced that she couldn’t get beyond the past, and that she desperately needed to.
“No,” she insisted. “I’m fine—these days. I would love to meet the right guy…or even a decent enough wrong guy. Movies, dinner…music,” she said. “Honestly, I know you don’t have to plan a lifetime with someone to enjoy his company.”
“You