Suspicion of Deceit Read Online Free Page A

they've gone soft. They don't compromise, and they're proud of it! What if somebody shoots at him? Blows up his car? We should ask Ms. Connor here about a liability lawsuit. She might have to defend us in court. I say we replace him."
    Eleanor groaned, "Oh, Martin!"
    Rebecca said, "Stop! I didn't want this to be a vote. I wanted us to agree. We have to, or it's going to be so divisive. We haven't even considered the effect on the community. Dissension is the last thing we want."
    "Absolutely right!" Martin pointed at her. "What would this do to our fundraising efforts?"
    Dixon growled, "Not a damn thing, Martin. Where are your cojones?"
    Seth said, "Come on, Becky, do the right thing."
    Rebecca Dixon was sitting forward on the edge of her chair.
    Gail stood up. "Okay. Time out." She held up both hands. Everyone looked at her. "One question. Has anybody asked Thomas Nolan what he did in Cuba?"
    Silence. A melting ice cube clinked in someone's glass.
    Rebecca slowly sat back in her chair. She laughed, then bit her lip. "Yes. That would seem rather important. And ... as you are the only one not interested in the outcome—Would you mind?"

    In the semidarkness of his bedroom, Anthony was rubbing Gail's back, hands moving between her shoulder blades, sliding to her waist, then rising over her bare buttocks, then down her thighs.
    Gail said, "I just can't picture Seth and Rebecca together."
    "They had more in common then."
    "Why were you surprised when he said he was a CPA?"
    "He used to be so dedicated to the law. He wanted to be an advocate for the poor. If you had said to him, 'Seth, one day you'll be an accountant,' he would have laughed at you. Or shot himself."
    "A lawyer. Why did he quit?"
    "I don't know. I went to New York and we lost touch."
    "So. You were neighbors in the Grove, back in the funky days. How old were you then?"
    "Twenty when my grandfather kicked me out. I had already met Seth. He let me stay with him and Rebecca till I found a place."
    "Wait a minute. You said you left home, but you never told me your grandfather kicked you out. What happened?"
    "According to him, I was a communist." Anthony laughed. "I had long hair and a beard, and I read leftist books and dared to disagree. Seth let me sleep on his sofa for a while, then I rented an apartment in the same building. It was on Elizabeth Street, not a great neighborhood. There was a drug dealer across the street and a Pentecostal preacher behind us. So on the weekends"—Anthony leaned over to kiss her back—"we heard gunfire and sometimes"—his mouth moved lower—"speaking in tongues."
    Gail's skin tingled. "How did you survive?"
    "My mother gave me money, and I found a job. Several jobs."
    "What was Rebecca studying?"
    "She wanted to go to medical school. I guess she never did." Anthony stretched out beside her. "That's enough talking."
    Propped on an elbow, Gail pulled a strand of his hair through her fingers. It curled when she let it go. "Long hair and a beard. Did you look like Che Guevara?"
    "What?"
    "Rebecca told me you had a poster of Che Guevara."
    "Ay, Diós mio."
    "I wondered how it was that Rebecca Dixon had seen the inside of your apartment."
    "And now you know. What else did she tell you?"
    "Nothing—except she seemed familiar with your family history."
    "It was a long time ago."
    "Let's see. Twenty years ago I was fourteen, in ninth grade. Very skinny, with long straight hair. I wore knee socks and clogs. Jimmy Carter was president. What else was going on in the world? Disco? The first Star Wars movie?" Gail traced a line down Anthony's long nose, then around his full lips. "I was wondering about something."
    "You always are."
    "You spent three years at the University of Miami majoring in philosophy, correct? And then you went to New York and graduated in business. With only a year to go?"
    "I wanted to get out of Miami and see the world."
    "Come on. You're too sensible."
    "Now, yes. Then—" He smiled. "I was