The Forgotten. Heather GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.
to Grady Miller, I need you,” he told her. “Thank you so much, Miss Ainsworth. Enjoy your party. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Lara watched him go, still feeling stunned. She’d only been working here three weeks. Tonight’s party was taking place on the Monday of her fourth week. It was an annual event, and most of the planning had already been underway, but she’d worked hard on it after taking over, wanting it to be as special as possible.
Her days here were usually all about happiness, watching both children and adults who were thrilled to enjoy the dolphins, laughing at their antics, anxious to break the communication barrier between animal and man.
It was putting words together to fight for positive press coverage, for funding, sharing facts and figures with anyone who thought what they did here was cruel. It was writing press releases about dolphins like Cocoa, who wouldn’t have survived without people’s help.
But tomorrow would be...
A search for more body parts.
Enjoy your party.
Grady wouldn’t insist that she go. He knew about her past and how traumatic today had been for her. But he had given Agent Cody’s plan his blessing.
Maybe she’d insisted a little too strongly that she was all right.
But if she was needed...
Well, hell. It would only be one day.
Right now she needed to rejoin the party and mingle. She’d discovered that she liked their sponsors, especially Sonia Larson. And it was Sonia she bumped into first.
“In Miami less than a month and it appears you’ve met some very intriguing people,” Sonia said, nodding toward the path Agent Cody had taken when he left. “Where did you meet him? Somewhere dark and dangerous, I bet. What does he do for a living? Let me guess. Soccer player! And he’s—Argentine. Oh, dear, I’m sorry—too many questions.” Sonia sighed softly. “Forgive me?”
Though the woman’s name was Sonia Larson, Lara had caught the faintest hint of an accent and was pretty sure that she came from a Slavic country.
Lara managed a smile. “He’s not actually a friend at all. I met him here earlier today. He’s with the FBI. And you’re not asking too many questions at all.”
“No, I do ask too many questions. I’m...awkward.”
Lara looked at Sonia. Despite her beauty and vivacity, it was true. She did seem a bit awkward, as if she was uncomfortable in a crowd. As if all that vivacity was an act because she wasn’t sure how else to behave. She was a self-made millionaire. Her clothing line consisted entirely of her own designs. She’d begun selling in some of the high-priced shops on the beach, and around Aventura and the Bal Harbor area before expanding to other cities, other states and then around the world. But Lara suspected she was happiest and most comfortable when she was on her own, designing the clothes that had brought her such success.
“It’s okay. You’re fine,” Lara said reassuringly. Then she smiled. “My turn. Russia? Maybe the Ukraine?”
“Close. Romania,” Sonia told her. “Larson was once Lungo. My father changed it when we came to this country. I’ve been here since I was eight. Not everyone hears the accent.”
“I worked in DC for a long time,” Lara told her. “I got good at recognizing accents.”
“Yours is very nice. Soft and so clear, and yet...”
Lara laughed. “I’m from Virginia. Richmond. Very cosmopolitan now. But I guess we still have a bit of a Southern touch.”
“I like the Southern touch. Like Florida. This is my home now. I love it—everyone is here! I meet with Russians in the morning, Venezuelans in the afternoon and Cubans or Germans, or maybe someone Jamaican or French, at night. I love the salsa—that’s Brazilian, yes? Everyone comes together here. And thanks to the night life, my shoes and short skirts are popular, eh?”
“I love your clothing. I have some of your Biz-Wear line,” Lara told her.
“Yes?” Sonia might be a fashion mogul, but she seemed like any normal person, pleased by the compliment. “I must bring you some things.”
“Oh, that’s sweet, but really—”
Sonia waved a hand in the air. “You will hurt me if you refuse them.”
“Please don’t feel that way, it’s just that it’s not really appropriate for me to accept such an expensive gift,” Lara said.
Sonia waved a hand dismissively. “Just think of it as a welcome-to-Miami gift. I’m in Rio next week for a fashion show, but I’ll send some things over.” She smiled, then said, “And now you can’t argue with me, because we have company.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Watch out for him. His hands like to wander.”
Lara turned to see Grant Blackwood headed their way.
He was a good-looking man in a rough-cut kind of way—one that he probably took great pains to achieve. He played the Texan, the cowboy, to the hilt, right down to addressing Lara as “little lady” several times. He had two homes in Florida, one on Star Island and one in Key West, a mansion in Houston and several small “cottages” around the country.
His wife was currently at their “little place” in the Hamptons.
“Ladies! How cruel of you to deprive the rest of us of your company,” he said, his drawl booming, rich and deep.
“I’m so sorry, but this lady has just received a call from her chauffeur. I told him he must get me out of here and home to bed at a reasonable hour,” Sonia said, followed by a yawn. “I promise you, it’s not the company. It’s too many flights in too few days, and I’m off again soon.”
Blackwood sighed elaborately. “We’ll miss you, Sonia. Until the next soiree, then.”
“Always such a pleasure, Grant,” Sonia said.
He turned to Lara. “What about you, little lady? How about a walk down to the docks to fill me in on anything new with our wonderful dolphins?”
Lara wasn’t new to his kind of game; she’d worked in the media after all. She was good at handling herself. But before she had a chance to put him off, Sonia leaped to her rescue.
“I think that Lara needs to be very careful about walking on the docks with any man,” Sonia said.
“Why’s that?” Grant asked.
“Didn’t you see her boyfriend?” Sonia smiled. “He’s a very handsome man—and a government man, at that.”
“You’re dating a fed?” Grant said, turning to Lara.
She had seldom felt put on such a spot, but since Sonia had only been trying to help her—and since she was clearly right about Gerry—she phrased her answer carefully. “Well, we haven’t known each other long,” she said. “But he is...quite a man.”
“I wonder if he’s part Latin?” Sonia said. “He looks as if he could be quite passionate.”
“Oh, yes, he’s very passionate,” Lara agreed drily.
“I imagine,” Grant Blackwood muttered, looking over her shoulder.
As he did so, Lara knew—just knew—that she had stepped in it now. Why in God’s name he was back again, she didn’t know.
But he was back. The stick-up-the-ass agent was back. And this time he’d undoubtedly heard her.
“Miss Larson, Mr. Blackwood,” he said. He looked at them and nodded, and though he said nothing else, his nod clearly indicated that they should leave.
They took the hint. Sonia waved goodbye and headed for the exit, and fell into conversation with Ely and Dr. Amory. They were lucky to have