Liar

Another person came gliding into the frame. I recognized this one. Our society columnist. “Margot Martin,” I said.

Geoff nodded.

The camera saw Margot clearly assessing the man while he apparently spoke to the temporary guard-who barely glanced up from his comic book. Although there was no soundtrack on the tape, actions spoke as plainly as words-if not more so. Margot said something and the man turned his attention to her, still keeping his face from the camera. Margot moved closer and the guard seemed to enter the conversation.

“Now watch,” Geoff said, narrating. “Margot gives the mailroom boy a sour look. And there-see? She takes the other fellow’s arm and walks outta here practically licking her whiskers.”

I smiled. “Geoff, if Margot is meeting men in the lobby, that’s her business.”

“Oh, no. Not this time. I asked my comic-book-reading friend who this fellow was, especially since the fellow was acting a little suspicious. He says he don’t know, he didn’t even get the fellow’s name.” Geoff sighed, then went on. “The boy says the fellow in the cap came in here asking if you were in.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Were you expecting anybody?”

“No.” I looked at the monitor again.

“It didn’t look like Frank to me,” Geoff said. “Besides, he wouldn’t have gone off with Margot.”

“Frank’s in Idaho,” I said absently. I couldn’t identify the man who appeared on the tape.

“Oh, well, I knew it wasn’t Frank. I asked this old boy what had happened. He said the fellow come in asking for you, and before he can even ask the fellow for his name, Margot Martin lays her peepers on him and says, ”Miss Kelly is gone for the day, is there something I can help you with?“”

“What?!”

He nodded. “Flabbergasting, ain’t it?”

Maybe not, I thought. “I suppose he was good-looking?”

Geoff rubbed his hand over his face and said, “Well-I didn’t get much of a description out of my so-called helper, but I suppose the fellow probably was, because Margot is durned man-hungry, but she’s not without refinement. She wouldn’t just walk out of here with anybody.”

“The man seemed perfectly willing to go with her.”

“Yes, my replacement said that the fellow was smiling, seemed happy to make her acquaintance. I guess Mr. Fu

“Take him to me?” Once again, it was, as Geoff had said, flabbergasting.

“The mail clerk said he figured if she could take him to you, you and Margot were friends. I told him you weren’t enemies, but you weren’t great pals, either.”

“I hardly give her a daily schedule. But almost everyone knows where I’ll be on a Tuesday evening.” I shrugged. “So Margot’s probably going to be at the city council meeting.”

“That’s what I figured. No other way she’d know where you’d be. I don’t imagine she even knows where you live.”

“No, we haven’t thrown any debutante balls lately, so there’s been no need to invite her over.”

“Count your blessings. But the fellow worries me more than Margot. There’s no real harm in Margot, but I tell you, the fellow’s up to something sneaky.”

“Hmm. You said the mail clerk gave you a description?”

“Sort of. He said he’s tall, maybe in his fifties, maybe older. Close-cropped gray hair. Thought his eyes were blue or green, some light color.” He paused, pointing at a frozen frame on the tape. “See the design on the door? From where he hits it, I’d guess he stands over six-foot, maybe six-two or more. Big build.”

“Could I look at the tape again, Geoff?”

He replayed the segment for me. As we watched the man first approach the desk, I noted again how straight his back and shoulders were. Except for keeping his head down, his posture was perfect. “Carries himself like an athlete or a military man.”

“Hmm, yes. So he does,” Geoff said. “But I can’t like him hiding his face like that.” He looked up and said, “Watch yourself tonight, Irene.”

“Thanks for letting me know about him, Geoff, but I wonder if he’ll be able to escape from Margot long enough to show up?”

“You’ve got a point there,” he said.

I glanced at my watch, saw that I didn’t have much time left before the meeting, and hurried up to the newsroom. I logged onto the computer, went to the mail program and got as far as the subject line before I stalled. Subject? I settled for “Urgent family matter.”

I moved the cursor to the message section and stalled again. What to say? “Dear Travis, how are you after all these decades? And by the way…” No. All I could do was ask him to make a phone call.

To: [email protected] /* */

Subject: Urgent family matter

Dear Travis,

Urgent that you contact me. Please call as soon as possible.

Your cousin,

Irene Kelly

I added my home and work numbers and, although not perfectly satisfied with it, sent the message off into cyberspace.

Since I was already logged on, I decided to look for Gerald Spa

After two rings, a male voice answered.

“Gerald Spa

“Who’d like to know?”

“My name is Irene Kelly. I’m trying to locate my cousin-your brother Arthur’s son?”

There was a pause before he said, “I’ve never met my brother’s b-” He caught himself, started again. “I’ve never met my brother’s son. Sorry I can’t help you.” He paused again. “If you find him, tell him to give me a call someday.” He hung up.

Well, that was quick, if not painless. I suspected the “b-word” wouldn’t have been “boy.” “My brother’s bastard,” he’d been about to say. It might have been easier to judge him harshly for that if he’d said he never wanted to hear from Travis-or if my own family hadn’t also disowned Briana and her son. Arthur and Briana’s false marriage had probably embarrassed the Spa

I gathered my belongings and headed over to the city council chambers. The chambers were all but empty when I arrived, and except for a few resident gadflies, not many other people showed up. The most interesting item on the agenda was not one most folks would recognize as such-a change in plans for use of a navy property that was coming back into the city’s possession-but that item was quickly tabled. The rest of the meeting plodded along over relatively unimportant issues. Even the usual sideshow was dull-when long-standing opponents took their expected potshots at one another, the remarks lacked heat.

I had positioned myself so that I could see latecomers entering the audience, but never saw anyone who even faintly resembled Geoff’s description of the man who had asked for me.

The meeting finally came to a close, and I rushed back to the paper to file my story. I had already called in to let Morey know that there was no need to hold much space for the council story.

I knocked the story out fairly quickly, then checked my e-mail. Nothing from Travis. I said good night to the few remaining staff members and hurried home.

The dogs bounced and bounded to communicate their joy at my return. Cody gave one yowl and then managed to regain a proper cat sense of aloofness. The light on the answering machine was blinking.

I pressed the play button.

“Irene? Are you there?” Frank’s voice. He sounded tired. “Oh, wait, it’s Tuesday-you’re probably at the council meeting. The flight went fine and the hotel is okay, but we’ve already encountered some problems with the job, so we may be here a little longer than we expected. Sorry to have missed you. I’m pretty beat, so I’ll probably turn in. I’ll call you again tomorrow if I get a chance.” He left the hotel number, said again that he’d try to call the next day, then hung up.