The Dead Room

“I got that much,” Brad said. “But what got Joe going?”

 

 

“I’m not sure.”

 

“He’s not going to wrestle the camera away and steal the film, is he?” Brad said worriedly.

 

“I don’t think so.” She smiled. Brad never tired of having his picture in the papers.

 

“Maybe I should go out there.”

 

“Honestly, it’s all right. Do you know what I think?”

 

“What?”

 

“I think you should head back to your position at the bar or Ken is going to steal the lady of your choice.”

 

He stared at her, then laughed. “You know, you could be the love of my life. And then I wouldn’t have to barhop.”

 

“Brad, I don’t think anyone is going to be the love of your life, or at least not for a very long time, and you wouldn’t want to ruin a great partnership, would you?”

 

“Maybe I’m ready to settle down.”

 

“Like hell.”

 

He grinned, then sobered, saying seriously, “Don’t go falling head over heels just because…well, because you’re trying to turn this guy into Matt. I mean, he seems fine. Dryer says he’s really respected, that people are willing to fly him all over the world for help, it’s just that…he isn’t Matt, and you can’t turn him into Matt. I just hope you’re not setting yourself up for…well, I don’t know what I’m saying. I care about you, that’s all.”

 

“Thank you. I care about you, too, and I’ll be all right. Really. And you don’t have to hang around until he comes back. I’m a big girl. I’m okay at a bar by myself.”

 

“I don’t want to desert you.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“Besides, I want to know what he’s doing out there.”

 

“Aha! The truth is out.”

 

“Hey, there are wolves in this place. I really don’t think I should leave you alone.”

 

“Brad, you are one of the wolves in this place.”

 

“Yeah, but not to you.”

 

“Okay. So how was work? Anything new?”

 

“Yeah, workmen shoring up the walls. Only guys Laymon approves of, and even then he spent half his day on top of them, driving them nuts.”

 

Leslie grinned. Maybe it was a good thing she’d taken the day off. She looked toward the door, wondering herself just what had gotten into Joe.

 

 

 

The bouncers didn’t take the camera, but when it looked like they were going to get a little rough, Joe stepped in.

 

“Hey, guys…you got rid of him. Let it go now.”

 

The bouncers turned around. “Just trying to protect you and your lady friend, buddy,” one of them said.

 

“And I appreciate it.”

 

The kid stared at him, backing away. “Are you going to take my camera?” he demanded.

 

Joe shook his head. “No.”

 

“I’m free to go?”

 

“No. Let’s take a little walk.”

 

“Down a dark alley?”

 

“No. You’re from The World Wants to Know, right?”

 

“Yeah,” the photographer said carefully.

 

“You’re Phil Brynner, aren’t you?” When the kid looked at him warily, he added, “I saw your picture next to your byline.”

 

“Uh…what do you want?”

 

“To ask you a few questions.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Your article on Genevieve O’Brien.”

 

“Oh.” His brown eyes widened. “I…uh…who are you?”

 

“My name is Connolly.”

 

“Are you a cop?”

 

“No, a private investigator. I’d just like to know what you know about the scandal surrounding Genevieve’s birth.”

 

The kid still looked distrustful, but he wasn’t ready to bolt anymore, and he wasn’t cringing. “I never met her, you know.”

 

“You’re aware she’s missing, though, right?”

 

He nodded, looking a little ill. “You can’t blame me for that.”

 

“Exactly what were you saying?”

 

“It wasn’t right out there, huh? It made you think?”

 

“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you,” Joe said.

 

Phil swallowed. “I went through a bunch of records. Public records,” he said defensively. “I sifted through gossip columns and all kinds of stuff—I worked really hard on that, and it was a good article.”

 

“It was a masterpiece,” Joe said wearily. “I want to know what you were saying. Genevieve couldn’t have been another man’s child. Have you seen her aunt’s face? She’s the spitting image of the woman, an O’Brien through and through.”

 

Phil stared at him, then grinned broadly. “That’s just it.”

 

“What’s it?”

 

“Eileen Brideswell isn’t Genevieve’s aunt.” He stared triumphantly at Joe. “She’s her mother.”

 

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