Deadly Gamble

Chapter 8 (Part 1)

Chapter 8

Brad North had put on a lot of weight. That was my first impression. He'd once been tall and thin. He still had the height, but everything had rounded out, giving him indistinct outlines. The soft jogging suit he wore accentuated the effect. His hair was still wavy brown, his eyes blue. At the moment his mouth hung slack. He was obviously dumbfounded to find me standing here.

"Hello, Brad."

His mouth worked a couple of times, settling finally into a tentative smile. "Charlie! What a surprise."

"Is Stacy home?" My mind groped for a reasonable explanation for my appearance.

Stacy showed up behind Brad's shoulder just then, questioning. When she saw me, her face went white.

"Stacy, now don't tell me you've forgotten that we'd planned to go out for breakfast." I noticed that she was still in her robe. "You did, didn't you?"

Luckily she picked up my cue. "Oh, Charlie, God, yes, I did forget." She glanced nervously at Brad, whose mouth had formed a straight line. "Brad, you remember my telling you that I ran into Charlie recently? I completely forgot that we were going out to breakfast today."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything.

"Can you give me a minute to get dressed?" she asked me. Turning to Brad again, she hesitantly met his stare. "Is it okay, Brad? I won't be gone long."

There was a moment's pause as Brad apparently wrestled between saying what he really felt and preserving his image before an outsider. "Sure. It's fine." Stacy dashed for the staircase.

I stood awkwardly on the porch, wondering just what was going on here. Did she really need permission to see an old friend?

"Well, come on in, Charlie. We're letting all the cold air in." Brad closed the door behind me. "Let me show you around while Stacy gets dressed."

I had no idea how much Stacy'd told him, but didn't think it would be wise to admit I'd already had the grand tour. His version was a bit different from Stacy's anyway. He took particular pride in pointing out the art objects and paintings. With each came an explanation of where it had come from and either a) how much it cost, or b) how much it was worth, or c) what a fantastic deal he'd negotiated in buying it. I began keeping a surreptitious count on my fingers and was amazed to find by the end of the tour that Brad had supposedly visited forty-three different countries. Either that or he was a tremendous bullshitter.

Stacy found us in the study, where Brad was going into an explanation of each of the famous person photos, making sure I was fully informed about how well he knew each of them. I looked in her direction and faked a tiny yawn. She almost smiled.

"Well, Brad, it's been just fascinating," I interrupted. "We'll be going now. You must be totally exhausted after taking me through all your travels."

He trailed us to the front door, missing my sarcasm as he raved about the wonderful brunch at the club. We really should try it. We couldn't go wrong if we had the Eggs Benedict. I ignored this blatant fishing for an invitation and waved an impersonal little salute his direction as Stacy and I got into my Jeep.

Stacy was quiet in the car and I had to restrain myself from asking whether Brad was always such a braggart, or if that little show was entirely for my benefit. After all, look at everything I'd missed out on.

"I'm glad you picked up on my clue about breakfast back there," I commented.

She smiled tightly. "Charlie, this is very risky. Why did you show up unannounced?"