Iris tried not to bruise. A woman who practiced deceit was likely to expect it in others. 'I'm not. I just want answers.'
'About what?'
'You came here for the conference. Are you sure you don't remember anything about arriving here? You spoke at an early seminar.'
'I don't remember.'
Iris pulled the sheet of paper Sharon had given her from her purse and unfolded it. She read off the list of names. 'Are any of those familiar to you?'
'I've heard of a couple of them, but I've never met them.'
'Are you sure?'
'I m sure.'
'Maybe you met them here at the conference '
'I told you I don't remember anything since the airport.'
'Just try.' Iris insisted.
'Don't you think I have been?' Celia's voice rose. 'Do you think I like not knowing where I was or what I was doing or what was being done to me during the missing time?'
Iris braced herself against the flood of fear pouring from Celia like sweat. 'I'm sorry. I know it's hard for you. But my friend is missing, and I think what happened to you may be important.'
'Missing?'
'She was supposed to meet me at the airport day before yesterday. She didn't show.' Iris told Celia about her search for her friend, about the frustrations and dead ends. 'Your names are both on this list. You were part of a special focus group that Dr.Grinkov called from the conference. Do you have any memory of that?'
Celia frowned. 'No. I'm sorry.'
Iris hid her frustration. Whatever her ethics, Celia Shore seemed genuinely distressed by what was happening to her. Iris didn't want to add to her pain.
She stood. 'I'm sorry, too. I don't mean to make things hard for you. I should go now.'
Celia grabbed her hand. 'Wait, You won't tell anyone, will you?'
'I said I wouldn't.'
Celia let go of Iris's hand. 'Thank you. If I remember anything that will help you find your friend, I promise you I'll be in touch.'
'Thank you' Iris left the penthouse suite and walked slowly toward the elevators, her knees shaking.
She'd so hoped that Celia had answers for her. Maddox had warned her not to expect too much. He'd been right. Inside the elevator, she slumped against the back of the car and stared at herself in the mirrored walls. She looked tired, pale and fragile. She'd never thought of herself in those terms, but the evidence of her rapid decline stared back at her, impossible to deny.
She should have stayed in Willow Grove, down in her basement laboratory, away from people and problems and pain. She pressed the button for her room floor, no longer in the mood to attend any of the Cassandra Society's conference seminars. When she stepped out of the elevator, she was surprised to see Maddox sitting in the hall beside her door.
He looked up as she approached. 'How did it go?'
'Fine.' She unlocked the hotel room door. 'How did you know I'd come here instead of go back to the conference?'
'Maybe I'm psychic.' He pushed to his feet and followed her inside. 'You don't look like it went fine '
She threw her purse on the bed and turned to face him. 'Thanks for constantly reminding me how terrible I look.'
His brow wrinkled. 'I didn't mean it that way, Iris.'
She sank onto the side of the bed, slumping her head to her chest.' You were right. She didn't remember anything.'
'I'm sorry' He sat next to her, his shoulder pressed against hers. 'Hungry?'
'Not really.'
'You look like you could use a little lunch.'
She slanted a look at him. 'Again with the compliments'
He took her hand. 'Come on, you don't need an old beach bum like me to tell you what a pretty woman you are. Do you?'
'Couldn't hurt.' she admitted, going for a light tone but missing. Some of her doubts bled through, revealing more than she'd intended.
'You're a pretty woman. Iris Browning.' He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. His mouth was warm and soft, and the heat that flowed from that light caress chased away some of her despair.
She wanted to ask him why he was being so sweet to her, but she was afraid of the answer. So she gently pulled her hand away from his and stood to put some distance between them, crossing to the window overlooking the balcony and the sea beyond.
'I meant to ask you, did you show that sketch of the bearded man around town?'
He didn't answer right away, drawing her gaze back to him. He was looking at a spot on the far wall, his expression hard to read. She couldn't even sense what he was feeling.
'Haven't had a chance.' he answered finally. 'You were probably right about him, though. He has a missing friend, he said. That's probably all there was to it.'
Now he was lying. She didn't have to be an empathy to tell. But why? What was his game? Why would a guy like Maddox spend so much time worrying about her problems?
He wouldn't. Not without his own agenda. She had to quit thinking of him as someone she could afford to get close to.
She pushed her disappointment into a tight little place inside her and turned to look at him. 'You know. I think I'd just like to lie down for a while. I'm sure you have better things to do than sit around here holding my hand.'
He shot her a now familiar salacious smile. 'I don't know, sounds like it could b fun.'
She didn't rise to his bait. 'I'll see you around, okay?'
His smile faded. 'Okay. You call me if you need me.' He grabbed a piece of hotel stationery from the desk by the bed and jotted something on it. 'That's my cell phone number. I'll leave it on in case you need me.'
'Thank you.' she said.
But she had no intention of needing Maddox anymore. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it, her heart racing.
An hour later, the nap she'd planned to take continued to elude her. Maybe she'd been wrong to come back here instead of returning to the conference. What if someone at the seminar could tell her more about Dr.Grinkov's Telarafia lab and just exactly what it was he did there?
She grabbed her purse and headed out the door. Halfway down the hall, she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. A gnawing emptiness carved low in her belly. She faltered to a stop, recognizing the sensation. Slowly, she turned and looked down the hall behind her.
A few feet away stood the bearded man from the Tropico. Panic knotted her insides, 'I'll scream.'
He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, covering her mouth. 'No, you won't.'
Chapter Eight
'Oh, You again.'
Maddox looked up to find Charles Kipler standing in front of him. 'Chuck! Fetching lunch for the missus?'
A glint of humor lightened Kipler's eyes, catching Maddox by surprise, 'Yeah. You, too?'
Maddox looked down at the take-out ticket in his hand, 'She said she wasn't hungry. But she needs to eat.'
