Читать книгу Up Close and Personal - Fern Michaels - Страница 7

The hour was late, the middle of the night to be precise, and the silence was so total it was ominous. The woman standing at the window stared out at the dark night. Here and there she could see tiny pinpricks of light, but she had no idea what they were. She could also see her reflection in the dark window as well as the entire room behind her.

The woman closed her eyes and wondered if she would ever sleep again. How long could a person go without sleeping? She should know the answer. Why didn’t she know? When she opened her eyes she could see the reflection of a woman standing in the middle of the open doorway. She was still as a statue.

The woman knew that the figure in the open doorway wasn’t going to speak until she was spoken to. Strange how she knew that and yet didn’t know how long a person could go without sleep. “Did you do as I asked?”

The woman waited for a response. None came. “Grace, I’m speaking to you. Did you do what I asked you to do?”

Five seconds passed, then five more seconds before Grace said, “Yes.”

The woman at the window turned. She peered at Grace, and said, “You sound unsure. You can’t lie to me, Grace. I gave you enough money to put your four boys through Ivy League colleges. When you told me your husband had medical problems I gave you enough money to buy a small lake house so you could both retire. With the additional money you demanded, you can both live quite comfortably for the rest of your lives. Now, I am going to ask you again. Did you do what I asked you to do?”

The woman turned back to the window. She stiffened when she heard the single word, “Yes.”

“Thank you, Grace. I’ll be leaving in a few hours. Thanks to you, I’ll be able to leave with a lighter heart. I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t want our paths to cross again. It will be best if you never return to this state again. When you leave you will follow all my instructions to the letter. Do we understand each other, Grace?”

“Yes, ma’am, we understand each other.”

The woman watched Grace Finnegan’s reflection in the window as she left the room, closing the door behind her. Long ago she had committed Grace’s face to memory; not that she had any intention of remembering her in the days to come. There was no need to say good-bye. After all, they weren’t friends. Business associates, if you will. She banished the picture of Grace Finnegan from her mind as she continued to stare out at the tiny dots of light. Soon the sun would rise, and she’d walk away from this place and never look back.