Last night he’d promised Diane he would add some interior features to the second floor to make it less austere and fortress-like.
As for the lighthouse portion of his house, it had been transformed into an open workspace. It was here in his inner sanctum he used the thick rounded walls to spread out his huge maps
of the tunneling beneath major American and European cities.
Considering he was in negotiations for the rights-of-way to dig in fifty more markets by next year, there was no way of gauging where it would lead in future years. But it ensured he wouldn’t run out of problems to solve. That’s what he loved to do.
That’s why he was taking Diane to Switzerland, even if he had to drag her there. And if working with those doctors didn’t produce a cure, he’d heard of another one who ran a clinic for injuries to the spine in Norway.
If Payne had already figured out how to unearth dazzling riches lying in mud beneath the streets of New York, Paris and Rome, surely he could find a way for Diane to walk again!
“Betty?” he called to Mrs. Myers. She and her husband lived in to look after his house and do light housekeeping. “I’m expecting Drew Wallace later tonight. When he gets here, let him in my study, will you please?”
“Of course. Would you like something to eat before he arrives?”
“How about a sandwich.”
“Coming right up.”
Taking advantage of the time, he sat back in his easy chair, adjusted the floor lamp light and began reading Manhattan Merger.
The opening line grabbed him by the throat.
Logan Townsend wasn’t in love with his fiancée.
From that point on it was like walking through the minefield of his own psyche where his deepest thoughts and feelings were exposed at every unexpected turn. By the time he came to the last page and closed the book, his hands were literally shaking.
He recalled something Catherine had said before he’d left for Crag’s Head.
Diane got after me about reading romances. She said they’re a waste of time and don’t reflect real life.
How wrong could Diane have been!
If Payne could be thankful for one thing, it was that Catherine hadn’t read the story yet. It would bring her even more pain.
Once more the painting on the cover leaped out at him, underscoring his shock that this book with his picture was in circulation.
“Payne?”
At the sound of Drew’s familiar voice, he levered himself from the chair. Only then did he realize he’d been too riveted to the well-written story to notice Betty had brought him a tray of food some time ago. Unfortunately his appetite had left him.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Good grief. You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“I wish that were the case. A ghost I could deal with,” he muttered grimly.
Payne handed him the book. “I just finished reading it. No one, and I mean no one, could have reached down into my soul to pull things out the way this author did. I’m talking secret thoughts and feelings here.”
His attorney took it from him and studied the cover. “There’s no doubt about it. The person who did this artwork used a picture or photograph of you. Let’s see the other books.”
Payne emptied the sack onto his desk. Drew examined the covers of all the books.
When he eventually looked up he said, “Every day of life your picture appears somewhere in the newspapers or tabloids. The public has free access. That means you’ll always be a target for unsolicited attention.
“But to find a painted picture of you on the cover of a book without your express written permission is a legal matter, never mind that the person responsible might or might not be a stalker.”
“So you don’t believe this could be a coincidence?”