Shivers Read Online Free Page B

wondered how she and Joey had ever managed to connect. He couldn’t imagine her sitting with the “chicks” in the East Side singles bars. Cocktail lounges and hotel bars were more her speed. She had to be quite wealthy, judging from the apartment. The living room was exquisite, with soft lights, mahogany furniture, and a rolling bar. There was a thick blue rug on the floor. The view from the panoramic window was stunning; one could see most of Central Park. The enormous Gulf and Western building, so brightly lit, was in the distance.
    “You look a great deal like your brother, you know. Very handsome boys, I’ll tell you.”
    “Thank you.” He didn’t feel particularly handsome. Something was wrong with Vivian. She was too composed, trying too hard to be casual—he found it hard matching her with the worried,-nervous voice he had heard on the phone, although he was sure it was the same voice.
    “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, flashing her lovely, warm eyes in his direction. She motioned for him to sit on the couch.
    “Yes, I’d like that. I could certainly use one.”
    “All right.” She smiled. It was out of place, considering. “What do you take?”
    “Bourbon on the rocks, if you have it.”
    “Of course, I’ll just take a moment.” She went to the bar, selected a glass, and poured a great deal of liquor into it. “What do you do for a living, Mr. Everson?”
    “I’m a magazine editor. And occasional freelance writer.”
    “Oh? That’s interesting. Are you working on anything now?”
    Why was she bothering with small talk? He wanted to get on with it. “Nothing in particular,” he lied. He was in the middle of a free-lance celebrity profile, but there was no need for her to know that. He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Jessup—just what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?” The significance of the Mrs. finally hit him. Was she a widow, a divorcee— or was Joey fooling around with a married woman ?
    “Oh that,” she said. “I’m so—I’m sorry if I alarmed you before.” Just for a second, her smile had faded; Steven had caught it. She was hiding behind a facade; she was deeply disturbed and trying to hide it. But why? Why not come out with it?
    She walked over to the couch with his drink. He sat there staring at her, a study in impatience. Their eyes met briefly as the drink passed from her hand to his, but she turned away before he could peer too deeply.
    She remained standing. “It’s just—it’s just that I . . . Well, to be frank, I had someone here at the time and I . . . Look, let me make myself a drink and we’ll talk.”
    “All right,” Steven said. He wondered why she had called him in the first place if, as she claimed, she had had someone with her?
    While she made her drink, he watched her. She sensed it too, though she wasn’t looking in his direction. She spilled some of the gin she was pouring, and an ice cube tumbled onto the rug. When she was ready, she came over to the couch and sat beside him. He got a strong whiff of her perfume and noted that she smelled rather nice. Her smile was gone. She wore a tense look that was occasionally punctuated by a quick nervous grin, almost a twitch. “Is your drink all right?”
    “It’s fine.” He looked around the room as if to emphasize what he was going to say. “Mrs. Jessup. Is my brother here?”
    “No, I don’t know where he is.”
    Steven just sat there and looked at her. “Well, I was under the impression that you wanted me to cover over because you had something to say about his disappearance. You asked me if he was all right when we talked on the phone, as if you knew something, as if you knew that he was missing.” Steven remembered that she’d said something else that was funny—”they’ve done it” or “he’s done it”—but it had happened so fast he couldn’t be sure.
    She touched her lower lip. “No—I-I didn’t know. I was just afraid . . .” She held her forehead with her