Part 280 (2/2)

desk looked more like an executive's than a rock star's. Glossy and

piled with files and papers. Against the wall was a Yamaha keyboard and

synthesizer, along with a huge reel-to-reel tape recorder. There was

only mineral water and soft drinks in the bar. Michael waited until

Brian looked up.

”My father and I discussed it. We thought you should know.”

Shaken, Brian groped for a cigarette. ”You think it's genuine.”

”Yes.”

He fumbled with his lighter. There was a bottle of Irish whiskey in the

bottom drawer of his desk-still sealed. It was a test to himself In the

six weeks and three days since he'd tipped a bottle, he'd never wanted a

drink more.

”Sweet Jesus, I thought I knew what she was capable of I can't

understand this.” He dragged in smoke like a drowning man sucks air. ”If

she was-why would she have wanted to hurt him?” He buried his face in

his hands. ”Me. She wanted to hurt me.”

”We're still of the opinion that the death was an accident.” Hardly

words of comfort, Michael thought. ”Logically, kidnapping and the

ransom you would have paid were the motives.”

”I was already paying her for Emma.” He scrubbed his face with his hands

then dropped them on the desk. ”She would have killed Emma, snapped her

neck right before my eyes. She was capable of that in a rage. But to

plan something like this.” Lifting his face again, he shook his head. ”I

can't believe she could do it.”

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