Suspicion of Deceit Read Online Free Page B

young. My grandfather and I had argued again, and I wanted to get away for a while. So I went to NYU, then law school at Columbia. Married, had two kids, moved back to Miami, divorced. Then I met you. The story of my life. And here we are." He rolled toward her. "Guess what I want now."
    She moved her hands lightly over the muscles in his back. His skin was like satin. "There's a lot about you I don't know."
    "Nothing important."
    "Would you tell me if I asked?"
    "Not tonight." He kissed each corner of her mouth. "Tonight we're going to do something else."
    "Anthony—"
    "Shh. No more talking."

CHAPTER THREE

    In winter Miami International Airport became a chaps of cars, tour buses and taxis, exhaust fumes and police whistles. Long lines formed at ticket counters. Aviateca, Aeroflot, Lacsa, Taca, Lufthansa, Halisa, Varig— humanity flowing in all directions.
    Gail and her mother maneuvered toward Concourse E, where the 3:15 p.m. American Airlines flight would arrive from Puerto Rico, bringing Karen from her winter break as a ten-year-old first mate on her father's sailboat charter cruises. She had called a few times to say what a great time she was having. How selfish of me, Gail had , thought, hanging up the phone, to have hoped that Karen hadn't sounded quite so happy. What if she decided to stay with her father? What if he wooed her with sailboats and snorkeling and going to school barefoot on an island? Dave was not happy about the prospect of Karen's having a stepfather, particularly this one. Oh, Gail. A Cuban? Are you nuts?
    On their way to the airport Gail had told her mother about the scene at the Dixons' apartment two nights ago, and her assignment to speak to Thomas Nolan. Who was he? What was the right way to approach him?
    Irene Strickland Connor was the best source of information about anyone connected to the Miami Opera. A debutante in her day, and a member of Young Patronesses of the Opera (now defunct), Irene had been on the board for years. Comfortable but by no means wealthy, she worked like a bee collecting her required $10,000 a year from willing donors. This put her in the office frequently, where she would hear all sorts of tales. Her small stature, curly red hair, and innocent blue eyes made people want to talk to her. And she never revealed anything said in confidence-except to her dearest trusted friends, and of course her daughter.
    "Let's see what I can tell you. Tom Nolan is thirty-five. Never married. As far as I can tell, he's unattached. He was born in Miami, did you know that? He left as a boy, though, and grew up in Virginia."
    Irene stepped back to avoid a businessman running full tilt with his suit bag. She was quick on her feet today in a pair of bright yellow sneakers.
    "He's spending the winter season with us. Most of the lead singers we hire fly in, stay for a few weeks during rehearsals and performance, then leave, but Tom is here for the semester, teaching classes at New World. That means he's approachable," Irene concluded.
    "That's something," Gail said. "What's he like?"
    "It's hard to say. He's very quiet. He can be charming, but there's a . . . distance. I've met quite a few famous people, and they seem so aware of being observed. Tom gave me that impression—he's always onstage playing the role of opera singer. Oh, they're like anybody else once you get to know them, but it must be hard, traveling so much, trying to please total strangers."
    Irene checked her watch, then offered to buy Gail a soda at the cafeteria, lit up with neon and bustling with travelers.
    "Listen, I've been meaning to ask you," Irene said, putting away the change. "In addition to a birthday gift for Mr. Pedrosa, I'd like to take his wife something, too. But maybe they don't do hostess gifts. I was thinking about some flowers from my backyard. What's the etiquette?"
    Digna Maria Betancourt de Pedrosa, Anthony's elegant, platinum-haired grandmother, had invited Gail's family to join them for her