Peter Decker 3-Book Thriller Collection: False Prophet, Grievous Sin, Sanctuary

“Mother, the detective told me Lilah had been attacked. Tell me what happened.”

“Funny, I was going to ask you that very question.”

Feeling his face go hot, Merritt slammed down the receiver. A couple of beats later the private line rang again. He picked up the handpiece.

“That was a repulsive, vile insinuation, Mother.”

“Kingston, I wasn’t trying to be nasty. We’re on the same side, for God’s sake! I only meant that maybe you know what happened because you talked to the police.”

“I don’t know a thing because I left to see Lilah. And she was gone. So why don’t you tell me what happened. Was Lilah attacked?”

There was a long pause. Merritt heard the drumming of fingers over the line.

“I’ve got a busy schedule, Mother. Is that true or not?”

“I think so.”

“You think?”

“Well, Lilah is prone to fits of fantasy—”

“The detective told me she’d been beaten, for God’s sake! How could she fantasize about that?”

“She had a few bruises. Nothing serious.”

“I want to see her.”

“Kingston, that’s not a good idea—”

“Mother, I demand to see her! Despite what she thinks, I still care for her very deeply. If she needs medical assistance, I have pull with the finest physicians in the city. God only knows how many of them owe me for discreetly getting their daughters out of sticky situations.”

“Freddy’s got everything under control.”

“Freddy? You’re letting Freddy handle this situation? All of a sudden, you’re trusting Freddy?”

“It’s not me, it’s Lilah. She trusts—”

“Freddy?” Merritt let go a deep laugh. “Fine, Mother. You just let Freddy handle Lilah as well as all your situations.”

“King, I know you two hate each other—”

“Of course you know. You were the one who orchestrated our hatred.”

“I did not!”

“Mother, you turned Frederick against me—always comparing him to me to his detriment.”

“You were smarter. I was just being honest.”

“You turned him into a petty, jealous person—a shell of a human being. And as a result, he turned Lilah against me.”

“I did the best I could as a mother. No one’s perfect. Stop acting like a spoiled child.”

“Mother, I can act however I feel like acting. At the moment, it’s you who need me. Now listen closely. I’m going to see Lilah, and furthermore, you’re going to arrange it. You’re going to explain to Lilah how much I care about her and how much I want to help. You, Mother, are going to convince her to see me.”

“Lilah has a mind of her own, King.”

“I’m sure you can be persuasive. You’re always quite persuasive when there’s something in it for you. Everything—everything will be put on hold until I see Lilah. Do we have an understanding?”

Again fingers drummed across the telephone wire.

“I’m hanging up, Mother.”

“King, let’s talk this—”

“Everything’s on hold until I can see her. Am I making myself clear?”

“Not to worry, King. You’re making yourself quite clear.”

The door opened a crack, a small Spanish voice asking who was there. Decker said who it was and the door opened all the way. To Decker, the maid was still shaken. But she told him she was doing better. She led him through a spotless kitchen to the back door and told him Lilah was outside in the stable, grooming her horses. That seemed like a healthy thing for her to be doing. Painstaking tasks occupied the brain, preventing morbid thoughts from taking over. He thanked Mercedes and walked over to the stalls, but was blocked at the entrance.

“Hello, Mr. Totes,” Decker said. “Lilah asked me to come down and talk to her.”

“It’s okay, Carl,” Lilah called out. “He can come in.”

The skinny man didn’t move right away but stayed fixed in a military position—arms crossed, legs apart, chest extended, and brow furrowed over distrusting eyes. Totes was obliged to move out of the way. But he took his good, sweet time about it.

Decker walked inside the stable, finding Lilah with Apollo—the palomino that Totes had been riding that first day. She was combing the horse’s golden mane, talking sweetly in his ear as she smoothed out the tangles. The animal had on reins and bit, but no saddle. Lilah’s garb was part good ole girl, part vamp. She wore skintight jeans tucked into two-tone elephant-hide boots, and her chest was wrapped in a black tube top. Somehow she pulled the whole thing off without looking cheap. She didn’t acknowledge his presence and Decker knew she was toying with him. But he wasn’t bothered by the silence. There was something serene about watching one golden-haired beauty groom another. Finally, Lilah patted the horse’s neck and turned to him. Her face was still bruised but healing nicely.

“I was about to go for a ride, Peter. See if I can still function. Please join me.”

“A ride?”

“A ride will relax me. And when I’m relaxed, my power is more focused. In the long run, it will benefit both of us. And don’t be frightened by the horses, Peter. They’re very well trained.”

Lilah might know his home phone number, but she certainly didn’t know jack about his hobbies—all six of them sitting in his own stable. He wasn’t about to tell her anything personal. Slipping his hands in his pocket, he thought: no problem, amiga. He could play the slick as easily as the hick.

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion, Miss Brecht.”

She smiled seductively. “You know, Peter, I’ve noticed that when you get nervous, you call me Miss Brecht. Don’t worry so much.”

Outwardly, Decker was impassive, but internally he was wired—angry and sexually charged at the same time. He felt like a jerk but couldn’t turn around and walk away without losing face.

Just cut the losses, Deck. Ride the damn horse and get out of her way.

“I’ve got about forty-five minutes, Lilah. You want to spend it riding, it’s fine with me. But I’m not coming out here again.”

“Oh, yes, the ground rules.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, ran her fingers over her cheeks. “I tried to cover the … bruises with makeup. Can you tell?”