Night Moves : Dream Man/After the Night Read online

  The blusher-pinkened cheeks paled a bit. “About Guy?” Her hands fluttered a bit, then she clasped them in her lap. “Why ask me?”

  Faith paused. “Are you alone?” she finally asked, not wanting to cause the woman any trouble if someone should overhear their conversation.

  “Why, yes. Lowell is in New York this week.”

  That was fortuitous in one way, and not in another, because depending on her conversation with Yolanda, she might want to talk to Lowell, too. She took a deep breath and went right to the heart of the matter. “Were you having an affair with Guy that summer before he left?”

  The blue eyes darkened with distress, and the cheeks paled even more. Yolanda stared at her, the seconds ticking away in silence. Faith waited for a denial, but instead Yolanda gave a curiously gentle sigh. “How did you find out?”

  “I asked questions.” She didn’t say that it had evidently been common knowledge, for Ed Morgan to know about it. If Yolanda wanted to think she had been discreet, let her have that dubious comfort.

  “That was the only time I was ever unfaithful to Lowell.” The older woman looked away, and her fingers plucked nervously at her slacks.

  “I’m sure it was,” Faith said, because Yolanda seemed to need to be believed. “From what I’ve heard about Guy Rouillard, he was an expert at seduction.”

  An unwilling, rueful little smile touched Yolanda’s lips. “He was, but I can’t blame it on him. I was determined to sleep with him before I ever approached him.” Her fingers continued their nervous little movements, now smoothing the upholstered arm of the chair. “I found out Lowell was carrying on with his secretary, and had been for years. I pitched a fit, let me tell you. I threatened him with all sorts of things if he didn’t stop, immediately, and divorce was the only one of them that wasn’t physically damaging. He begged me not to leave him, swore that she didn’t mean anything to him, it was just the sex, and he’d never do it again—you know, that kind of bull. But I caught him, not three weeks later. It’s so silly, the little things that give them away. When he undressed one night, his shorts were on wrong side out, the label visible in the back. The only way he could have gotten them turned wrong would be if he’d had them off.”

  She shook her head, as if she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been more careful. The words were spilling out of her now, as if she had held them inside for twelve years. “I didn’t say anything to him. But the next day I called Guy and asked him to meet me at the summerhouse on their lake. Lowell and I, and some other friends, had been there for barbecues and picnics, so I knew the place.”

  The summerhouse again! Faith thought wryly. Between father and son, the sheets in those two bedrooms must have stayed hot. “Why did you pick Guy?” she asked.

  Yolanda gave her a surprised look. “Well, I’d hardly have picked anyone repulsive, would I?” she asked reasonably. “If I was going to have an affair, I at least wanted it to be with someone who knew what he was doing, and from Guy’s reputation, I thought he likely filled the bill. Then, too, Guy was safe. I intended to tell Lowell what I’d done, because what good is revenge if no one knows about it, and Guy was powerful enough that Lowell couldn’t do anything to him, if Lowell found out his identity. I intended to keep that secret, at least.

  “So I met Guy at the summerhouse, and told him what I wanted. He was very sweet, very reasonable. He tried to talk me out of it, if you can imagine! Talk about a wound to the ego!” Yolanda smiled, her eyes misty with memory as they met Faith’s. “Here was a man who tomcatted all over the state, and he turned me down. I had always considered myself attractive, but evidently he didn’t. I almost cried. I did tear up a little bit, and Guy was frantic. He was so sweet, a real woman’s man. Tears turned him to mush. He started patting my shoulder, explaining that he really thought I was pretty and he’d love to take me to bed, but I had asked for all the wrong reasons, and Lowell was his friend—he went on and on.”

  “But you finally convinced him?”

  “What I said was, ‘If it isn’t you, it’ll be someone else.’ He just looked at me with those dark eyes that made you feel like you could drown in them, and I could tell he was wondering who I would pick next. He was worried about me, thinking I’d be down at Jimmy Jo’s, looking that crowd over for candidates. Then he took my hand, put it on his crotch, and he was ready. He said, ‘I’m it,’ and took me to the bedroom.” She shivered a little, her gaze unfocused as she looked back in time. She fell silent, and Faith waited patiently for her to sort through her memories.

  “Can you imagine,” Yolanda finally said, her voice soft, “what it’s like to be married for twenty years, to love your husband and be perfectly satisfied in bed—and then find out that you had no idea what passion could be? Guy was . . . God, I can’t tell you what Guy was like as a lover. He made me scream, he made me feel and do things I didn’t—I only meant it to be that one time. But we stayed there the whole afternoon, making love.

  “I didn’t tell Lowell. Telling him would have ended my revenge, and I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t stop seeing Guy. We met at least once a week, if I could manage it. Then he left.” She glanced at Faith, as if gauging the effect of her next sentence. “With your mother. When I heard, I cried for a week. And then I told Lowell.

  “He was furious, of course. He ranted and raved, and threatened to divorce me. I sat there and watched him, not arguing or anything, and that made him even madder. Then I said, ‘You should always make sure your shorts are right side out before you put them back on,’ and he stopped dead, staring at me with his mouth open. He knew that I’d caught him again. I got up and left the room. He followed me about half an hour later, and he was crying. We made up,” she said, briskly now. “And as far as I know, he’s never been unfaithful again.”

  “Did you ever hear from Guy?”

  Slowly Yolanda shook her head. “I hoped, at first, but . . . no, he never wrote, or called.” Her lips trembled, and she looked at Faith with anguish stark on her face. “My God,” she whispered, “I loved him so.”

  • • •

  Another dead end, Faith thought as she drove home. According to Yolanda, her husband hadn’t known about her affair with Guy until after Guy had already disappeared, which put Lowell in the clear. Yolanda had been too open, too oblivious to even the possibility that Guy had been killed, or that there was the slightest reason why she shouldn’t unburden herself to Faith. Instead she had wound up clinging to Faith’s hands while she wept for a man whom she hadn’t seen in twelve years, but with whom she had shared a summer of passion.

  She had finally recovered her poise, flustered and embarrassed. “My goodness, look at the time—I’m going to be late. I can’t imagine—I mean, you’re a stranger—crying all over you this way, carrying on—oh, my.” This last as she fully realized just what she had been saying to this stranger. She had stared at Faith with horrified dismay.

  Feeling compelled to comfort Yolanda, Faith had touched her shoulder and said, “You needed to talk about it. I understand, and I swear I’ll keep your confidence.”

  After a few strained seconds, Yolanda had relaxed. “I believe you. I don’t know why, but I do.”

  So now Faith was left with no suspects or leads, not that she’d had anything concrete to begin with. All she had was questions, and her questions were annoying someone. The proof of that was in the note she’d found that morning. Whether the note was indicative of a guilty conscience, she didn’t know.

  Nor did she know what else to do, except keep asking questions. Sooner or later, someone would be stung to respond.

  If she could keep busy enough, maybe she wouldn’t think about Gray.

  The theory was proving difficult to put into practice. She had avoided thinking about him, purposefully pushing him from her mind after she had left him the afternoon before. She had ignored the unfulfilled ache in her body, and refused to think about what had almost happened between them. But for all her will, her subconscious had betrayed her, admi