Low Country Liar Read Online Free Page A

They're on the dictaphone. I presume you do know how to operate a dictaphone?"
    On the last dryly sarcastic note, he pivoted on his heel and reentered his private office.
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    THE SHARP CLICK of the closing door snapped Lisa out of her daze. Her mouth opened. The words formed to call him back, her hand raised uselessly. Then she hesitated, her hand coming back to her mouth as she began to thoughtfully nibble a fingernail.
    Why not? a mischievous little voice inside her demanded.
    Obviously Slade Blackwell was expecting a replacement for his regular secretary and had mistaken Lisa for that replacement. Why should she bother to tell him differently? A private secretary would have access to all the files. If she wanted proof to confirm or denounce her suspicions, what better way than through his own records?
    It was a heaven-sent opportunity. She would be a fool not to take advantage of it. True, Lisa admitted, she wasn't trained as a secretary, but she could type, not very speedily, but at least it wasn't the hunt-and-peck method. She knew the rudiments of dictaphone use. With any luck she could bluff her way through what other skills might be necessary.
    With the decision made, Lisa quickly stepped behind the desk, slipping her bag into a lower drawer. The first thing she had to do was cancel the order for a secretary. She had no idea which agency had been contacted and couldn't very well ask. That meant going down the list of agencies in the telephone book and calling every one until she found the right one. Luckily, she reached the right agency on the third call.
    One more phone call. She looked the number up in the directory and dialed it quickly. Her fingers drummed the desktop impatiently as she listened to the ring on the other end.
    Finally it was answered. "Talmadge residence," came the world-weary voice of the housekeeper.
    "Mildred, this is Lisa." She hurried her words, speaking softly and quickly. "I'm just calling to let you know my…my friends and I are going to make an afternoon of it. Tell Mitzi I'll be back shortly after five o'clock."
    "Did she tell you?"
    Lisa frowned at the receiver. "Tell me what?"
    "That Sl—Mr. Blackwell is coming for dinner tonight." The housekeeper immediately corrected herself to refer to their guest formally.
    "Good lord," Lisa muttered to herself, seeing all sorts of complications setting in. "What time is he to be there?"
    "He usually comes for cocktails around six," was the reply.  
    "I'll be there by then." An irritated "damn" slipped out as Lisa replaced the receiver on the hook.
    But there wasn't time to dwell on her ultimate unmasking. She had to start transcribing the letters on the dictaphone before Slade Blackwell became suspicious about the silence in his outer office. It took a few minutes to find the stationery and carbon paper, and another few minutes to figure out how to operate the dictaphone before she was finally able to start.
    On the first letter, the spacing and margins were all wrong. The result was decidedly amateurish and Lisa had to do it all over again, interrupted by phone calls that she had to transfer to Slade Blackwell. The metal cabinets kept beckoning Lisa to investigate their files, but she remembered his statement that the letters were important. She didn't want Slade Blackwell coming out to discover her going through the files when she should be typing.
    Working on the fourth—and what she hoped was the last—letter, Lisa heard the connecting office door open and mentally tensed as Slade Blackwell stopped at her desk. Her cool green eyes slid a brief glance in his direction as he picked up the letters she had finished. She tried to increase her typing speed to an efficient rate—a mistake, as she misspelled a word by reversing the letters. She reached quickly for the liquid paper to correct it.
    The longest letter of those she had completed was tossed back to her desk. "The word is 'guaranty,' not 'guarantee,'