Читать книгу DARK WORK - Barbara Rush - Страница 7

‘Lydia’ walked to her tan Ford Taurus placing each step deliberately, controlling her pace in case Karen was watching. Her gait was self-assured but demure.

“Lydia” was one of her favorites. She was a confidant to women, and an untouched beauty to men. Women, at first tense and ready for condescension, relaxed easily in conversation when they encountered this sweet refined woman and her gentle approach. Lydia never met anyone lesser than she. The combination of beauty and humility worked especially well with anyone who was used to being told what to do, and receptionist Karen was proof of that.

With men, it was more fun. Lydia was the yet unspoiled “trophy” with the big heart. She was unaware of her prowess for the most part, never sensing men noticing her. The low-maintenance Lydia was a fantasy conquest, rolling out her show slowly with a shy, almost awkward rhythm. Weaving like a trout lure, her practiced responses glittered in the dank sea of prospects, the hook setting with the unspoken promise: maybe. Maybe with some persistence and fortitude, sweet Lydia could be unleashed into the perfect mistress, as James Dillon had found out last night.

What an easy mark Dillon had been! One trip to his office to ask for his help on an architectural problem and she had him where she wanted him. It was just enough of an encounter to allow her to drop his name at the church office the next day, without fear of exposure.

By the time Lydia was signaling left out of the parking lot, she’d already crumpled the card with Erin’s information. She didn’t need it; she just needed another hole to slither through, and Karen had provided that.

Lydia congratulated herself on her efficiency. They hadn’t been pleased that she’d killed Liz without finding what she needed. If she got it from Liz’s daughter, so what? She’d turned her mistake into an opportunity.