“What the hell are you doing here?” Roy Carlton growled.
TWENTY-FIVE
They stared at each other, Vivian hovering near the desk, Roy casting worried glances toward the door, neither sure what to do next. Vivian thought about calling for help, but it had been so loud downstairs. There was a good chance no one would hear her.
No, if Roy was sneaking around Honor’s office looking for something, the best thing she could do would be to keep him busy, keep him talking, until Danny arrived with the champagne. He’d know what to do next.
Vivian took a deliberate step back, putting herself between Roy and the door. She squared her shoulders and tried to look like her knees weren’t still shaking. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, Mr. Carlton.”
He flinched at the sound of his own name. “Youweren’t supposed to be in here,” he muttered, his eyes darting around the room before locking on her once more. “No one was.”
“You’re with those boys out front, then?” Vivian asked carefully. “They were supposed to distract Honor and the rest of the staff whileyou were in here.” She glanced at the scrambled piles of paper. “What were you trying to find?”
Roy’s gaze had started to wander around the room, but that made it snap back to her. His eyes narrowed, and the fury in them made Vivian take an involuntary step backward.
“D’you know what she has in there?” he snarled, taking a step toward her. “Go on, ask her next time. You’d do the same, to find out what dirt she has on you. On everyone who comes here.” He took another step forward. “Get away from the door.”
If he wanted to hurt her, she told herself, he would have done it already. Danny would be there soon. She just had to hold out a few minutes more. “Not until you answer my question.”
Roy’s face twisted, and he moved forward suddenly, grabbing her by both arms and yanking her toward him. “Or maybe you already know.” He shoved her away from the door, back toward the desk. But instead of running, he turned to follow her. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’ve been following me.”
Vivian caught herself on one of the chairs by the desk, dragging it between them as he stalked toward her. “I’m not—”
“You’ve been following me,” he repeated, sounding desperate now. “What do you know?” Another step forward. He yanked the chair from her hands and shoved it aside. The backs of Vivian’s hips were pressed against the edge of the desk. She could see the sweat standing out on his forehead, could see his hands shaking. “What do youknow?”
Where was Danny? Vivian could still hear the music and shouts from downstairs. Now that Roy was between her and the door, she had to keep him talking or he would make a break for it. His eyes were wide and panicked, and men who were scared and angry were dangerous.
But maybe this one could be manipulated.
“Trying to see what she had on Wilson, then?” Vivian suggested, her fear making her defiant even though she knew she should have been cautious. She needed to placate him, to convince him that she was nothreat at all. But her mouth kept talking, as if it knew exactly what to say to goad him. “Or maybe one of his rivals?” Her gaze flicked up and down, looking him over with scorn. “Still running his ugly errands, even after he’s dead. Don’t you want to be better than that?”
She regretted the taunt as soon as it was said, waiting for him to slap her or lunge at her. But it landed just as she hoped. Roy shook his head, his hair flopping limply into his eyes. “No. No. You’re just like her. You all think I’m just…” His tongue fumbled around the words. Glaring as if it were her fault, he suddenly grabbed her arm and hauled her forward, until they were only inches apart. “I’mnot. Hattie doesn’t know I came here, but I’ll show her—I’ll showeveryone—I’m no one’s errand boy anymore. I’m as good as Willard was—I can do what he did evenbetterthan he did—”
Vivian held as still as possible, though his grip was bruising her arm, while he stumbled through his protests, desperate to prove himself to anyone who looked down on him.
“Were you hoping that with Willard out of the way, Hattie would admit the baby was yours?”
He stared at her, his face blank with panic. “The baby?”
“He was a right bastard, as far as I’ve heard,” Vivian said, lowering her voice. “It probably seemed like a swell idea, didn’t it? Your boss out of the way, you get his wife and your baby back, move up in the pecking order—”
“You don’t know what you’retalkingabout,” he insisted, looking desperate.
“Poor Roy. All it took was one little bullet. But now your new boss wants to know who did it, and you’ve got a hell of a secret to keep.”
He was shaking his head. “Hattie and I…” His eyes suddenly narrowed, sharp with anger. “I didn’t kill him.”
“Can’t even admit it?” Vivian taunted. “What a big man.”
She had finally pushed him too far. The back of his free hand struck her cheekbone like an explosion, sending her head snapping back. “You keep your filthy mouth shut. I didn’t do nothing.Nothing.” He shookher fiercely, and Vivian stumbled, her head spinning from the blow. “You even think of saying trash like that to Hattie—”
He shifted forward, and Vivian yanked her knee up.
Her aim was off, and instead of falling to the floor in howling pain, he stumbled, cursing.
Vivian shoved the chair at him as he lunged toward her. She darted past, trying to reach the door as she drew breath to scream.
He recovered too quickly. He grabbed her around the waist, cutting off her cry and throwing her to the ground. Even as she tried to stand, he grabbed one arm and hauled her upright. “You’ll keep your trash mouth shut—”
