Dirt (Stone Barrington 2)

“Martha, my darling,” Amanda interrupted, “let’s remember whose business you and Mr. Dryer talked about.”

A tear ran down Martha’s cheek.

“You’re going to feel so much better when you’ve told me everything.”

“You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?”

“Why, Martha, of course not. You’re absolutely indispensable to m

e; I could never do without you. I just have to know what you told him and what he told you, and then all will be well. Start at the beginning, now.”

Martha slumped. “We went out to dinner, and we talked about everything in the world. Everything! Then we went back to his place and…”

“And he fucked you, didn’t he?”

Martha nodded. “I had to go to confession,” she said.

“Confession is good for the soul, dear. Go on.”

“It wasn’t until our second date that your name came up. He didn’t even know where I worked until then.”

“Didn’t he, dear?”

“He just seemed so very interested in you; he wanted to know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Where you came from, who your friends were, who you were…”

“Who I was fucking, dear?”

Martha nodded. “He seemed especially interested in your sex life. I just wanted the evening to last forever, so I kept talking.”

“And you just poured out everything, didn’t you?”

Martha nodded again. “I’m afraid so.”

“You told him about my plans for that weekend, didn’t you? And where I’d be meeting my friend.”

Martha continued to nod. “I didn’t realize what I’d done until the first DIRT arrived.”

“And then you knew you’d betrayed a confidence, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Martha said, bursting into tears. “I’m sorry, Amanda; I didn’t know he’d do that.”

“But you didn’t stop seeing him, did you? You went on and on, didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t help myself. He was so beautiful; I’ve never known such a beautiful man. He taught me so much about love.”

“I’m sure he did, dear, in between screwing sessions.”

Martha looked up sharply. “I didn’t think of it that way,” she said. “I was in love with him.”

“And now? Aren’t you still in love?”

Martha nodded. “But he won’t see me. I called his apartment, but there was no answer. I went by there, and all his things were gone. He’d left.”

“And where did he go, dear?”