Chapter 14: She's Got a Way

Lobby, Lynx Resort. February 4, 2005. Friday afternoon.

"And that wasn't the worst part," Neal said. He was sprawled in an armchair across from Diana as he related his experiences with the infatuated Mandy. She'd finally left him at two o'clock when she was due to meet her mom for a late lunch. Neal had returned to his room to change his clothes and then went on the prowl for Diana. As expected, he found her with her laptop in the lobby. The reception area at the Lynx Resort was furnished with several U-shaped conversation groups consisting of rustic armchairs and cocktail tables. Diana had chosen a chair close to the main passageway where she could keep an eye on anyone arriving.

At the moment though, she was regarding him with a look of faint sympathy. "What did you expect? If you're going to warble 'Heaven' like that, you have to be prepared for the consequences."

Neal flashed her a sheepish grin. "All right, I may have gotten a little carried away with that song, but I didn't believe Mandy's hormones would go that far into overdrive. She's just a kid, after all."

Diana was unimpressed. "Mandy's only a couple of years younger than you."

"More like seven."

She dismissed his argument with a shrug. "Like I said, you're meant for each other."

"I'll continue to stay friendly with Mandy but I've no intention of being seduced by her—your snorts aren't helpful, you know." Neal put his elbow on one of the armrests and propped his chin on his hand. "Besides, she's a good kid, even if she is delusional. I don't want to hurt her." Neal leaned forward and added in a low voice, "She told me she wants me to be her first."

Diana stopped any pretense of working on her laptop and laughed in his face. "Be gentle, Caffrey."

"I give up."

"All right, Lothario, give me a chance to think." Diana did have the grace to at least look like she was considering options. "Why don't you just tell her you're gay?"

"That won't work," Neal said, shaking his head. "Neal Legend already is known to be straight."

"Here's an out-of-the-box solution. Tell her the truth. You already have a girlfriend."

"I did. She doesn't care. She says she'll happily be my mistress. Can you even have a mistress if you're not married? It's a curse. She said the desire to run her fingers through my hair is driving her insane. I may have to shave my head."

"I might be willing to help you out, but I'm supposed to be making a play for Max Rinaldi. I can't go after you both. Well, I could, but don't you think that'd be a little disingenuous?"

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'll fall back on option B. Eat raw garlic. That'll be the kiss of death." Neal sighed and gazed around the lobby. "I take it you haven't seen Max all day? Mandy said he was going to be in meetings till the evening."

"She was right. I did see the bodyguards. Lamar made an appearance at 10 a.m. and Rocko wandered down at 2 p.m. Each one spent about an hour before heading back upstairs. I've been spending my time between the lobby and the restaurant."

"Travis and Jones have been spelling you, right?"

"Yes, and on the plus side, my story's coming along very well."

Neal grinned. "Details, please."

She looked at him skeptically. "You sure you want to hear about this?"

Neal leaned forward in anticipation. "Definitely."

"All right, but don't go poking holes in my portrayals. You and Peter have been recast as Neal Carter and Peter Gilman. I usurped two of Lovecraft's heroes, Randolph Carter and Walter Gilman, to create them."

"Wasn't Carter the main hero of Lovecraft's stories?"

"Don't look so smug. In my stories, he's bookish and shy—an introvert like his namesake."

"That doesn't sound right. I can see you need my assistance with character development."

"I already obtained Tricia's stamp of approval. Besides, Carter has a few redeeming features. He's no coward. He plunges into one dangerous situation after another without any regard for his personal safety, and Peter's right there with him."

"I like him better already. Does Peter know about his alter ego?"

"Not yet. I'm still very early in fleshing out the characters. I also haven't decided if this story will be a one-shot. There are pluses and minuses. Tricia advises we reevaluate after I'm further along."

"Which of us will get shot?"

"Neither." She shook her head impatiently at him. "As one of the heroes in my stories, you really should learn the terminology. A one-shot is usually one chapter long and not connected to other stories."

"But I know you'll want to continue my adventures for at least several stories, won't you?"

Diana nodded to the registration area. "El's arrived."

She was standing with two other women at check-in. "Those must be Sylvia and Lisa." Neal noticed El's eyes flit in his direction. "Which building are they staying in?"

"They're in the east wing."

The Rinaldis and Diana were in the north wing, so there'd be little likelihood of them bumping into each other in the corridors. But the public rooms were a different matter. Despite his reassuring words to Peter, Neal felt it was inevitable that Peter and El would wind up in the same area at some point. Neal wasn't worried about El—she'd bring her acting skills into play—but Peter? Neal hoped he could be there to bail him out if necessary.

#

At five o'clock, El strolled into the lobby bar. They'd come down from their suite a few minutes earlier. Sylvia and Lisa headed for the ski shop to sign up with a ski instructor. El was tempted to accompany them but she was concerned that Peter and Lily might be there. After all of Peter's lectures, she didn't want to appear to be spying on him—not that she wouldn't love to.

Her friends would meet her at the bar. Set in a corner of the airy lobby, it had tall floor-to-ceiling windows where she could sit and fantasize about being on the slopes. El sat down at one of the small tables by a window and ordered a Chardonnay from the waiter.

As she sipped her wine, she tried to spot Peter among the skiers. He'd be with Lily. What would she look like? What kind of ski attire would a bombshell wear? El smiled as she imagined a scene—Lily leaning provocatively over her ski poles and Peter fumbling his lines as he tried to look suave. Was Lily really a man-eater? How would Peter survive the ordeal?

Last fall El had played a femme fatale at her community theater's production of The Hollow. Peter had attended enough of those performances that he should have picked up some tips. But when it came to flirting, he really was impossible. She'd probably never hear from him how it went, but hopefully Neal would fill her in. She'd have to take him out to lunch when they got back and not invite Peter.

"Wow, what a view! If they could figure out how to bottle it, they'd make a killing." El turned her head to see a man standing next to her. Cashmere turtleneck, slim slacks, Italian loafers, a tan that didn't seem real in winter, and a cheeky grin that was surprisingly infectious. "And the mountains ain't bad either." He sat down next to her and extended his hand. "I'm Max. And you're the prettiest sight in this entire resort."

#

The sun was low in the sky when Peter returned to the locker room in the ski shop. He chatted with the other pros while he sharpened his skis. The main topic wasn't skiing but the impending arrival of a winter storm and how it would impact outdoor activities. The storm was at least a day away but the early forecasts were for several feet of snow.

Lily was an eager pupil and surprisingly charming. They spent two hours on the slopes. Afterward, she invited him to join her for an early lunch in the alpine café next to the ski shop. Peter had a better time than he'd expected. Based on what Neal and Jones had said, he'd thought he'd have to fight her off, but she wasn't that way at all.

Over soup and sandwiches, they discussed favorite movies—a safe topic—then Peter steered the conversation around to her family. He thought he'd handled it well, even injecting a few compliments. How could a husband leave such a lovely wife to her own devices was one of his best. Peter gave himself two points for that one. By the end of the afternoon lesson, Lily was much improved. She did appear to fall unusually frequently.

After a shower, Peter planned to find Neal. They could grab something to eat before Neal's evening performance. Peter could have used the back entrance to the staff quarters, but he decided to walk through the lobby in case Neal was there waiting for him. After all the complaints he'd made about their room, he was probably avoiding it as much as possible.

As he strolled through the lobby he didn't spot Neal, but who was that in the bar area? Peter ducked behind a pillar and looked again. There was no mistake. He grabbed a magazine from a display of tourist information and sat in a chair where he could monitor the situation. His worst fears had just been realized. He was being forced to conduct surveillance on El with Max Rinaldi.

#

"Then Lisa and Sylvia showed up, and he left, finally." Peter jabbed his fork into his Swiss steak. Too bad the steak was so tender. Sawing something right now would be much more satisfying. "Travis is continuing to monitor the situation, but Rinaldi's probably already gone upstairs." Peter was having an early dinner with Neal in the staff cafeteria. Jones said he'd join them. Travis had taken over Diana's lobby surveillance so she could prepare for the evening.

"Calm down," Neal said unhelpfully. "El's not in mortal danger just because Max flirted with her." He eyed his grilled catfish warily. "We should have ordered room service."

"There's no room service for staff. Not even for Neal Legend." Peter stirred his mashed potatoes, making a moat around his steak. He needed to make a moat around El and stock it with alligators. "I texted her. She's going to give me a call when she's free. She said not to worry."

"You see—El's fine, plus I'm sure she enjoyed the attention. If Max wants to flirt with her, we should take advantage of it. Nothing's going to happen to her and I bet she'd love being included in the sting."

Peter groaned. "Rinaldi was supposed to like Diana."

"I talked with Diana. He went straight past her—didn't even give her a second look. After seeing El, he was probably oblivious to everyone else in the lobby. We couldn't have asked for a better situation. If El leads him on—"

Peter glared at him. "That's my wife you're talking about."

"El simply flirts back a little," Neal countered. "She'll treat it like one of her roles for community theater. It's not like she's going to his suite."

"Don't even say that."

Neal gave him an exasperated look. "El will be in public areas the entire time with throngs of people around. What could happen to her? Rinaldi's never been known to be violent. There's no whiff of a report of him selling women into slavery. El could provide us with the ticket we need to make sure he's not in the suite when we want to be there. That's the whole point, isn't it?"

"When she calls, I'll talk with her about it. No promises. You haven't mentioned anything about Mandy. How'd it go?"

"I'm having the opposite problem. Mandy's throwing herself at me, and I'm walking a tightrope of needing to spend time with her but not wanting to lead her on. It won't be easy."

"How tough can it be? She's barely eighteen."

"That's eighteen with raging hormones. On the plus side, I did learn how to ice skate. We spent a couple of hours on the rink."

Peter sympathized with how Neal felt. It was unfortunate a minor had to be involved in the case. The fact that Mandy was now eighteen didn't make it any easier. "Is this going to be a problem?"

"I hope not. I got to hear a lot about her life at home. She idolizes her dad and that's making me feel even more like a heel. I hate having to crush her delusions about him."

"I'm afraid that's unavoidable. We're here to take down her father."

"I know but I'd like to not add to her pain if I can avoid it."

Between bites, Peter said, "We need to see what's inside that suite. With the reservations Rinaldi has made for the conference room, it appears that our only chance to gain access to his computer is on Sunday."

"I talked with Jones and Travis about it this afternoon. Travis was able to enter the conference room in the guise of a maintenance man. He got a quick look at the laptop Rinaldi's using. It's the same one he had in Las Vegas. It should be easy to make a ghost image. He'd trained me on the procedure with various laptops earlier this week. I don't anticipate any problems."

"You think you can get Mandy to show you the suite?"

Neal nodded. "I've got an idea that may work. I'll know tomorrow."

Neal was far too relaxed about this. He had no qualms about diving into a mission on a wing and a prayer. But not Peter. A plan should be prepared far in advance. Massaged, manicured, and rehearsed in meticulous detail. That was a plan. Neal liked to toss all the cards in the air and see which one landed face up.

Jones arrived at the table. "What's the verdict on the food?" He'd selected the barbecued pork chop with sweet potato. Peter made a mental note to order it next time.

"Surprisingly not bad," Neal said. "They promote organic foods even for the staff. Diana told me you've established a connection with Lamar."

"Yeah, it was a case of pure luck," Jones said, slicing into his pork chop. "I was taking a break in the game room, playing Call of Duty, when Rocko walked in. He went over to the foosball table and started pushing and spinning the rods. It was obvious he wanted to play, so I strolled over and started a conversation. We wound up playing for a half-hour. He told me his break would be at the same time tomorrow. We're scheduled to play starting at two o'clock."

"Excellent," Peter said. "We'll work around that time frame on Sunday. Has there been any news on the Azathoth front?"

"Travis and I are working on that," Jones replied. "We've been reviewing previous museum heists. Discovered a similar case at the San Francisco Museum last July. It took a while but buried deep in the code was the glowing branch malware. Travis found it. You'll have to ask him for the details. He's convinced that it will now be easier to detect other instances."

#

By the time El returned Peter's call, they'd returned to their room. The call went just as Neal expected. She was ecstatic at being included, and Neal was equally elated. Now that El was on board to distract Rinaldi, Diana was free to make a move on him.

He arrived at the piano bar several minutes ahead of time. The table the Rinaldis had used yesterday was booked for them again tonight. Neal had arranged for El and her friends to have a table near them.

Tonight could be highly entertaining. El's friends already knew that Peter worked for the FBI. She must have told them something so they wouldn't panic that their marriage was on the rocks. El would probably draw her inspiration from a movie—maybe Audrey Hepburn in Charade. She'd imagine that Max was Cary Grant.

El and her friends arrived a few minutes later. She looked enticingly hot in a tight sweater with cigarette pants. The only problem Neal foresaw was keeping Peter from blowing a gasket. He'd instructed the hostess to sit Peter on the opposite side of Rinaldis from El and a little to the back. Diana was at a table close to the piano on the same side as El. She'd worn a slinky low-cut cocktail dress in fuchsia.

Neal felt good about how everything was falling into place. As he sang "She's Got a Way," the hostess escorted the Rinaldis to their table. Neal tossed Mandy a smile, but he was careful to look at several other women too.

He then performed a couple of Frank Sinatra songs. Early in the evening, Max asked him to perform "Just the Way You Are," for Mandy. Neal noticed with amusement that Lily took advantage of the opportunity to slip off to talk to Peter.

Neal put his soul into that song and looked at Mandy practically the entire time. At the conclusion, she came up to talk with him. "That was wonderful!" she gushed. "It was as if your heart was beating next to mine. I think my eyes were created just to look at you."

"How about playing one for me?" Diana asked, sauntering up. She draped herself over the piano, forcing Mandy out of the way.

"Sure. Anything in particular?"

"How about 'Your Song'? And sing it like you mean it." Diana was wearing a sensual oriental fragrance rich in sandalwood and musk. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Is this seductive enough for you, Caffrey?"

Neal swallowed and nodded. Mandy gave up and moved back to her table.

Diana stayed by the piano as Neal sang directly to her. Role-playing with Diana was exhilarating. He imagined he was in love with Diana, singing songs just to her. She seemed to be into it herself, her expression softening and swaying to the music. He followed up with "One More Night." Maybe they should take their act to Broadway.

After that, Neal performed a rock version of "Piano Man." He was kept busy the rest of the evening with other guests making requests. Mandy appeared to have given up, at least for the moment, since Diana had moved to a chair right next to him. During Neal's break, she monopolized him, not giving Mandy a chance to move in.

Several times during the evening Neal noticed Max eyeing El. At one point, Max went over to talk with her and stayed several minutes.

Later in the evening, El came up to chat. Neal smiled at her as he continued to play. "Enjoying yourself tonight?"

El winked back. "Having a blast."

"Any requests?"

"I hear you do a mean 'Fever.' I missed your performance on Sunday. Let's elevate the temperature."

#

"Poor Mandy!" Diana flopped on the couch with a laugh. "Did you see the dagger eyes she sent me when we left the bar?"

"I wish she'd left with her parents," Neal said. "The handwriting was on the wall." When his performance was scheduled to conclude, he and Diana were enjoying themselves so much, he'd played a few more songs. Max and Lily left at ten but Mandy stayed till the bitter end. Diana then whispered in his ear they should leave together and she'd show him her suite. When he stood up, she added, "There's cognac waiting for you upstairs."

Mandy followed at a discreet distance but when she saw them head for the elevator she hurried to catch up. Neal tossed her a helpless look. It wasn't his fault if Diana found him irresistible. Mandy was about ten feet away when the elevator doors closed on them.

"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable," Diana said, slipping off her heels. "I got this handled."

Neal slid into an armchair in front of the fireplace while she went over to the fireplace in her stocking feet and turned on the gas. He could get used to being a gigolo.

She fetched a bottle of cognac from a cabinet in the kitchenette and called out, "Put some music on. I brought several CDs with me."

Neal went over to her CD player and rummaged through the collection. He didn't know what Diana's tastes were in music. Given her style at work, maybe heavy metal? He was relieved to find she'd brought some jazz. He put on Soul Sessions by Jeff Golub.

"Good choice," Diana said, handing him a snifter. "You're welcome to stay for a while."

"If you keep asking to sleep with me, I may have to take you up on it." When they'd first met last summer, Neal had asked for Diana to be his bodyguard when Henry and Angela had been kidnapped. She'd been diligent in her duties to protect him, crashing on the couch in his loft for a quick nap when given the chance. It'd become a private joke ever since.

"Travis told me about the primitive accommodations you have to put up with," Diana said. "Consider this your reward for tonight's performance. Do you mind if I change into a robe?"

"Not at all."

"They supplied me with an extra one. You want one too?"

Neal grinned. "Sure."

A few minutes later they were in their robes lazing on the couch in front of the fire.

She glanced over at him. "Would you like me to intervene at the ice rink tomorrow?"

"Thanks for the offer but I'm hoping to get an invitation to their suite. Besides, I don't want to hurt Mandy's feelings any more than necessary. When she wasn't attacking me, we had a great time on the rink. Her feelings for her dad are off the chart."

For once Diana didn't tease him. "You like her, don't you?"

He nodded. "She hopes I'll be her first. She's going to grow up all right, but not in the way she had in mind."

"Reality can suck sometimes," Diana said in her usual diplomatic way. "Events happen and make you an adult overnight."

Neal looked over at her. "You sound like you speak from experience."

She stretched her legs in front of her as she gazed into the fire and was silent for a moment. "I lost my mom when I was ten. Breast cancer."

"I'm sorry." Neal gazed over at her with sympathy. No child should have to face what she was forced to.

"I grew up fast. Dad was a diplomat. He started taking me everywhere with him." She gave a short laugh. "If you think I'm impatient now, you should have seen me back then. Finally, in desperation, he shunted me off to Charlie, his bodyguard. Charlie wound up raising me. He's why I'm so good with guns." Her smile grew wistful as she returned to staring into the fire.

"What happened?" he asked after a few moments.

"Charlie was killed in the line of duty. He was protecting me."

"How old were you at the time?"

"Sixteen."

"That can lay a guilt trip on anybody, but for a sixteen-year-old ..."

"Tell me about it. Mandy will be fine. She'll be hurt, but she'll emerge stronger. She'll grow closer to her mom. She'll learn that blind hero worship doesn't always work out."

Just like it didn't for me. It was reassuring to get Diana's take. He could use more of her hard-nosed attitude. The music had stopped. "What would you like to hear?"

"Put on Shakin' Not Stirred, the album by Brian Hughes. That's one of my favorites. You can stop grinning. It's not because of James Bond, or should I say James Bonds? Have you heard 'On Moonless Nights'? "

Neal inserted the CD and then walked over to the patio doors to look out at the dark mountain. "Our night is moonless. Very appropriate." He turned to her. "Tell me more about the story you're writing. How do I save the day?" He fetched the bottle of cognac and replenished their glasses.

Taking a sip, she said, "Sorry, but you generally don't. Peter does. Don't try those soulful eyes on me. I'm immune to them. The year is 1975. You're colleagues at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts, a location Lovecraft invented. In his stories, Miskatonic has as much prestige as Harvard. I'm sure Peter will appreciate that. Jones told me how much he respects Harvard types."

Neal kept his smile to himself. He was sure Jones didn't tell her he was joking. "You should mention that to Peter. It'll earn you extra points. Do I have a PhD?"

"Yep. You teach linguistics. You're a typical Lovecraft hero— a dreamer who tends to faint a lot."

"I thought you said I had visions, not that I was a weakling," Neal protested.

She shrugged. "I didn't say you were a weakling. Just remember, your destiny is in my hands now." She rotated her cognac snifter in her hands. "Your dreams take you places you don't want to be. Peter teaches archaeology. He's the rugged, manly type. Think Indiana Jones."

"Any chance I could be Indy?"

"Sorry, you're the one flying off into space. Peter's job will be to yank you back to the ground." She paused. "Hey, don't look disgruntled. For a balloon, you rock it. As you know Lovecraft created the Great Old Ones, mysterious aliens from outer space who are essentially evil and exist outside of normal space-time. They were sometimes worshiped by cults as gods. There may be cave drawings about them. That could be fun."

"And a chance to go to Dordogne, eat truffles, and drink Bordeaux. My character, I assume, will be wealthy so he can travel the globe in luxury. Does he have a private plane?"

"Careful, Caffrey. I could always turn you into a teetotaler."

"You wouldn't!"

"Just behave." They were sprawled at opposite ends of the couch. Neal pulled up her feet, placed them on his lap, and began massaging them.

"Oh, that's divine," she purred. "Where did you learn that?"

"Kate loved foot massages." Neal stroked her feet and gave her a seductive smile. "Are you crossing off teetotaler from my attributes?"

"Keep that up and you're safe." Diana sighed in contentment. "Azathoth is the chief bad guy of the Great Old Ones and is intent upon enslaving humanity. There will be ancient texts in unknown languages for you to decipher, cults to discover, and ancient ruins to explore."

"Are you including Mozzie?"

"You'll have to wait and see. A kickass detective named Diana Briscoe will also be in the tales, helping to rescue you from all the horrible and ghastly predicaments you may find yourself in."

#

It was well past two o'clock by the time Neal returned to his room. The lights were out. Peter appeared to be asleep. Neal got ready for bed, using his cat burglar skills to be as quiet as a ghost in the night. Fortunately Peter hadn't turned down the thermostat as low as the previous night. He may have gotten the hint from all the extra blankets Neal piled on his bed that it wasn't a good idea. Neal stealthily slipped under the covers.

"Where have you been?"

"Playing possum, Peter?" Neal grinned in the darkness. "I didn't hear any snores. That should have clued me in you weren't asleep."

"I don't snore. And don't deflect. It's almost three o'clock! Where were you all this time?"

"With Diana."

"If it were anyone else, you'd be getting my lecture right now."

"Don't be such a dad. By the way, Diana's suite is fantastic. Fireplace, patio overlooking the mountain. We drank cognac and discussed her stories. She's got an intriguing start. My character needs to be enhanced and yours need to be toned down."

"Is that so? I can see I'll need to establish a review procedure. If she writes as well as she acts, her stories will attract quite a following. That was some performance she put on at the bar. Mandy didn't stand a chance."

"I know what you mean. I felt sorry for her."

"You're handling it the right way. I saw the looks you were tossing her—the helpless singer ensnared by the oversexed writer. Not your fault."

"I hope she sees it that way. I'd like to keep our friendship, just get rid of the passionate stuff. Speaking of which, I saw Lily talking with you."

Peter let out a noisy exhale. "When Max visited El's table, Lily came over to see me."

"I noticed. Did you talk with El afterward?"

"Yeah, she said Max was a perfect gentleman, entertaining her and her friends with stories of trips to Las Vegas and L.A. and the parties he attended. He tossed around some names of celebrities. The jerk."

"Go to sleep, Peter. You're just cranky because you're stuck with me rather than El."

"Well, obviously."

"Just one more night. When we leave Sunday afternoon, we'll have what we need."

"Yeah but tomorrow night is the dance."

"Relax. You'll be another Patrick Swayze."