her attack, she took a bite of her fish. He couldn’t have called San Francisco from the hotel. He wasn’t even here yet at seven o’clock this morning.
“Mr. Archer,” she began quietly.
His tight expression relaxed into a smile, but the wary look in his eyes remained.
“You can forget about the formalities,” he said with a smile that set her pulses racing. “My friends call me Archer.”
She took a deep breath and shook her head. “We’re not friends, Mr. Archer. Not while you’re playing games with me.”
His smile vanished. He seemed speechless in his surprise. As their eyes met, a shock ran through her. Brows lowered and nostrils flared, he gave her a threatening glare that burned into her brain. For a frightening moment, she thought he might slap her.
“What are you talking about, Mrs. Wade?” His usually smooth voice grated harshly.
“About your lies this morning on the phone.” She stared at him. Even as she watched, his expression veered from anger to confusion. He seemed honestly bewildered by her accusation.
“What lies?” Menace remained in his eyes, but a ghost of a smile touched his lips.
“You said you called me from the hotel this morning,” she said, her face burning. “When I checked, the desk clerk told me you weren’t here. You obviously called from somewhere else. I want to know where—and why you lied about it.”
She waited while he took a bite of steak. When he met her eyes, the menace was gone, but there was a deadly coldness hidden behind his direct gaze. What had he expected her to accuse him of?
“When someone in your family dies violently, it’s a terrible shock.” His sympathetic tone was not matched in his iridescent blue eyes. “No wonder you see suspicious characters lurking behind every bush.”
Again, he hadn’t answered her question. Her doubts about him refused to go away. What clever line was he giving her now?
“What are you getting at?”
He leaned toward her, a determined look on his face. “As soon as we finish eating, we’ll go to the lobby. The clerk will tell you I signed in at eight-thirty this morning, about an hour after I talked to you on the lobby phone.”
“Why did you call me before you registered?”
His brows drew forward in a frown. “Because at least fifteen people were in line to check out. If I’d waited, I might not have caught you at home, so I used the pay phone. After I talked to you, I called our research people and had some coffee. Then I registered.”
Susan could hardly believe there could be such a simple explanation. But, surprisingly, she found herself relieved that he had one. Drawn to him, she wanted to see him again. If he was a legitimate insurance agent, she knew she would.
“I’m sorry, Archer.” She eliminated the formalities to let him know she meant what she was saying. “You’re right. I’ve become paranoid since Brian was killed. He wasn’t robbed, so police know that wasn’t the motive. And the one man who might have seen the killer has vanished into thin air.”
Archer settled back in his chair. “If this possible witness disappeared, how did the police find out about him?”
Susan opened her black leather service bag, pulled out a newspaper clipping and handed it to him. “Here’s a picture of the eyewitness and a story about what happened.”
While Archer read the accompanying article, Susan studied his face. The frown lines were back between his eyes. He scowled as he read. But no matter how formidable he looked, he was still the most fascinating man she’d met in a long time.
What would have happened if she and Archer had met last year, before she married Brian? she wondered, and then gave herself a quick mental kick. Archer was the last thing she needed right now. Behind his sexy eyes was a menacing coldness that frightened her. To clear her mind, she forced herself to concentrate on a window across the room. Outside in the sun, bare branches starting to bud were silhouetted against an azure sky.
He folded the clipping and returned it to her. “Are you sure this man with his back to the camera is your husband?”
“Positive. Nobody but Brian had hair that curled that way around his ears.”
Archer leaned toward her, resting his arms on the edge of the table. “Tell me honestly, Susan. Who do you think killed your husband?”
“Don Albright, the man who murdered Brian’s squadron commander last year,” she replied quickly.
Susan felt her temper rising just saying Albright’s name. The certainty of his guilt relieved her own anguished feelings. Since he did it, she couldn’t possibly bear any responsibility for not telling Brian about her covert assignment. “While the verdict was being appealed, Albright jumped bail, faked his own suicide and escaped. The police are still hunting for him.”
Archer’s scowl lines deepened. “Did Albright have a motive for killing your husband?”
“The best in the world.” Susan felt her face flushing as her anger increased. “Revenge. Brian was the one who put the finger on Albright at the trial. If it hadn’t been for Brian’s testimony, Albright might never have been convicted.”
“I remember reading about that trial.” Archer’s voice was thoughtful. “I never understood how your husband could be so sure Albright murdered the commander. Any one of the six other men at the table might have done it.”
“Brian felt Albright move his arm,” Susan said, remembering what Brian had told her. Her fingers tightened around her napkin. “Don Albright had the gun, for God’s sake. He killed his squadron commander because of a bad effectiveness report that kept him from getting promoted.”
She stared at Archer, daring him to dispute her. Don Albright was guilty as sin, and she wanted the whole world to know it.
Archer met her gaze head-on. “Did they ever find the accomplice?”
“You mean the person who turned out the lights?”
He nodded. “Whoever it was must have known he’d be an accomplice to murder. If that person was a friend, why couldn’t the police find him or her?”
“Maybe it wasn’t a friend. Maybe Albright paid somebody to help him.” Alarm and anger rippled along her spine. “You seem awfully sympathetic to that murderer all of a sudden. For a minute there, I thought I was talking to Albright’s defense attorney.”
He shrugged dismissively. “Just playing devil’s advocate. That’s a good way to find out what somebody thinks.”
“Well, now you know exactly what I think.” Susan settled back in her chair.
“I understand several thousand dollars were offered to anyone with information about the commander’s murder.” There was a subtle undercurrent in his voice. “You’re suggesting Albright paid his accomplice. If he’d take Albright’s money, why not the reward?”
It was a question she couldn’t answer. Disturbed, Susan shifted uneasily on her chair. Why
