Black Opal Read Free Page B

going strong in that area of your life when you reach one hundred.”
    The answer pleased his uncle and he smiled. “You’re right. There was no need to mention her.” Though he was smiling, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He tapped the desk with his fingers. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
    Adam sighed. There was no keeping secrets from Uncle Johnny and he wasn’t even sure why he was so reluctant to mention it. “Maureen Wolfe and Isabella Tremaine-McHenry were there for opening night.”
    His uncle straightened and he snapped out, “And you didn’t feel the need to tell me this.”
    “It’s history now, Uncle. Victor Price is dead.”
    If Johnny heard him, he gave no indication. “Was the beauteous Bella wearing the arm bracelet?”
    “Yes.”
    Johnny’s fingers click, click, clicked as he tapped them against the desk, staring into space. “So the singer is a friend of Bella Tremaine’s?”
    “Yes.”
    He leaned back in the chair and smiled. “I want you to cozy up to the singer, see what you can find out. From what you’ve said it should be no hardship right?” His uncle leered, raising his thick black eyebrows.
    “No hardship at all.” But something inside him protested at the idea of spying on Sabina. Ruthlessly, he forced back his distaste. He owed his uncle too much. Besides it would be a good excuse to see her again. She was like an itch under his skin. Had been from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. Something about her made him restless. But at some point the itch would be relieved. He’d bed her, an antiquated term his uncle used, and that would be that.
    He pulled away from the fireplace. “With your permission, Uncle, I think I’ll head back to Charlotte now and see what I can find out.” The ice clinked as he took one last sip then set his glass on the marble mantel.
    Johnny got up and walked around the huge desk, grabbed his nephew by the shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. “Let me know what you find out.”
    “Of course.”
    Striding out of his uncle’s penthouse, he punched the elevator button. As the silver doors swung open, he nodded to the couple inside the elevator, his thoughts a million miles away. Or to be more accurate, about two hundred and forty-five miles away, as he remembered the previous night.
    When Maureen Wolfe touched him, he’d felt a jolt and pain being drawn out of his body. Every time he’d ever seen Maureen or Isabella they’d been wearing those strange-looking bands on their forearms. Was there a connection? Victor Price had been frantic to get Isabella’s armband. Adam had never seen one on Sabina’s arm, though she usually wore long sleeves.
    He shifted his weight from one foot to the other his thoughts uneasy. He was a practical sort of fellow. He believed in things that he could see or touch. Surely, those armbands weren’t empowered in some way.
    As the elevator slid to a stop, he stepped out, shaking his head. Don’t be an idiot, Morelly. Empowered, right. Still there’s something damn peculiar going on with those three women. And it bears watching.
    He strode out of the eight-story brick building and headed for the parking garage where his ’63 cherry red convertible ’Vette was parked. Instead of opening the door, he leaped over it and into the seat, revving the engine, anxious to get back to Charlotte. From here on, he planned on sticking to Sabina Comti like a second skin whether she wanted him or not. Those women drew trouble like lakes drew swans.
    He downshifted and roared out into traffic. So they draw trouble. So what? It’s not like it’s my problem. But the picture of the heavy overhead lighting system crushing Sabina’s slender frame had him white-knuckling the steering wheel. What if he hadn’t been there opening night? What if he hadn’t been standing backstage, drawn to that golden voice?
    She would have died. The thought made him lightheaded.
    The light turned red. He swung right just in front of