Relief flickered in Suzanne’s eyes, and the tension in her body abated. “I appreciate your sensitivity. It would be refreshing to talk about something else for a change.”
“Great. Why don’t you tell me about your interest in the piano? When did you learn to play? And what made you decide to teach?”
Claire’s digression worked. Suzanne spent the next half hour talking about how she’d played the piano since kindergarten, how her love for it had been passed down by her mother and how much she enjoyed educating others in the beauty of classical music. Especially children, who were more open and eager to explore—even if they did hate practicing during the week.
From the piano they went on to discuss the symphony, and how much Suzanne loved both that and the theater.
Every time Claire lifted her cup of tea, she glanced at her watch.
When a little over an hour had passed, she knew she could leave without arousing any suspicion.
“This has been lovely,” she said, setting down her empty teacup. “Can I help you with these dishes before I go?”
Suzanne rose, waving away Claire’s offer. “Don’t be silly. It’ll take me five minutes. I really enjoyed this visit. I hope we can do it again soon.”
“Next time I’ll call and arrange something in advance,” Claire lied with a smile. “I don’t want to infringe on your privacy.”
“You didn’t. But, yes, we’ll make arrangements next time.”
Suzanne showed Claire to the door.
Claire couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
* * *
Suzanne was humming as she washed the teacups. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been for female companionship until Claire arrived. It had been so nice to pass an hour talking about shared interests. They would definitely have to do it again.
Just before preparing herself a light dinner, Suzanne went into the living room to shut off the lights. That was when she remembered the wig. She’d better put it away before she forgot. Glen might call at a moment’s notice and ask for a repeat performance.
She reached under the sofa cushion. Noth
ing. Frowning, she removed the cushion, and then the second and the third.
The wig was gone.
And there was only one person who could have taken it.
Her heart began to pound furiously. Fear superseded all the other emotions she was feeling. She had to call Glen, to tell him what had happened. She’d have to explain how stupidly trusting she’d been. He despised weakness. When he heard that she’d let her guard down, succumbed to her need for company, he’d be livid.
God help her.
She marched back into the bedroom as if she were a prisoner on her way to the death chamber. There was no point in putting it off. She might as well face the inevitable right now. She wasn’t supposed to call Glen. He prearranged their calls, and he was the one who made them. But this was an emergency. He had to know what had happened.
Picking up the burn phone Jack had gotten her, she punched in the number Glen had recited to her over the phone just hours earlier.
* * *
Glen had been looking forward to this next hour. The phone sex had eased his pent-up tension—just what he needed to enjoy the perfect meal...a couple of Nathan’s Famous hot dogs, a large order of French fries and a cold beer.
As it was, he’d been preoccupied all day, racking his brain to come up with some way to get Casey Woods alone. Based on Jack’s reports, that would be next to impossible. Well, that wasn’t going to fly. Somehow he had to figure out how to finish what he’d begun.
He was deep in thought and halfway through his long-awaited meal when his burn phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID, and anger rose inside him like a tidal wave. “Why are you calling me?”
“I’m sorry.” Suzanne swallowed. She curled up on the bed and covered herself with a blanket, unconsciously shielding herself from what was to come. “I need to tell you something. It’s important.”
“What do you want? I’m busy.”