Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [5]
“Easy does it,” he said as he poured a scant shot and handed her the diminutive glass. “It’s not quitting time yet, and I’m not supposed to keep this stuff around.”
She took it from him and held it. “Lex, I want to talk to you about something. I’m not quite certain I know how to handle this—I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Start by finishing your drink and we’ll take it from there.”
Gratefully, Heather sipped at the liquid. She sipped again and felt herself relax.
Settling into a chair, she crossed her legs, willing herself to be calm, playing for time. She did a swift mental review of what she knew about Felex Lassiter. He was cool in a crisis, levelheaded, and always considerate—a man whose strength could be depended upon. In his early thirties, his good nature and quiet authority won him the respect of his associates, while his handsome blond looks and athletic build won winsome smiles from the female assistants and junior execs.
Heather agreed with the consensus that Lex wasn’t all about razzle-dazzle—unusual for a public relations man. It seemed people just naturally responded to his sincerity. Wasn’t this the reason she had sought him out now to help her gain some perspective on the Angela Steinhart problem? In truth, Heather was strongly attracted to him, but he had never made a move to kindle a relationship outside the office.
“Lex, did you meet Angela Steinhart?” she finally began.
Lex nodded. “Of course. She designed those fantastic Christmas displays. Best ever. Talented artist. Very imaginative.”
“Maybe too imaginative.”
Lex looked quizzically at Heather. “I’m not following you.” He waited patiently for Heather to make her point.
“Today she came to see me and told me that she thinks something bad is going to happen at the mall.”
“Like what? A commando raid on the cookie store?”
“Ha ha.” Heather set aside her drink. “She didn’t really say. But she made it clear enough that she, um, sees things and then they happen.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“She wasn’t. Just said that accidents happen and she knows about them beforehand and that it’s been going on for a while. Meaning, I think, that she has visions.”
“Go on.”
Heather recounted the story of Angela’s visit. “The strange part is that in less than a minute she had me half-convinced that something was going to happen. But what can I do?”
Lex sat upright, listening intently. Concluding her story, Heather lowered her voice and got up to pace the office.
“Absolutely nothing.” Lex’s tone was measured and calm.
“I don’t want to believe it. I’d rather think that this is what she says her parents think it is—a bid for attention, pitiful though it may be. However, I do have to file a report, and when security reads it we both know what’s going to happen.”
“Right,” Lex agreed, considering her last statement. “These days they overreact.”
“Exactly. I’d hate to bring all that aggravation down on Angela’s head, but what else can I do?”
“Pull a few strings and bring in some outside manpower. But keep things quiet.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “I was thinking the same thing. But I wish I knew what we’re up against. If anything.”
“You don’t have to know. Just cover your bases, that’s all.”
“I wish she had told me more. I can’t even make an intelligent judgment. Heck, I don’t know anything about premonitions or ESP.”
“I do, in a limited way.”
Heather shot him a disbelieving look and hesitated, remembering the troubled expression in Angela’s eyes. “Really? Tell me.”
“Sure. How about over dinner? On me.”
“Ah—okay.” Her lips curved in an accepting smile. “I’d like that. It’s been a long, long day.”
“Why are you fidgeting?” Her voice held the barely disguised note of harshness