Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [73]
Anger flared in Stan's eyes. Alex felt a momentary flash of guilt, but he quickly discarded it. He wouldn't take back his words. It was the truth. Stan should have made sure the investigation continued, instead of letting the government shut him up.
"I don't understand why you didn't," Alex added. He waited for Stan to offer an explanation, but he | remained silent, so Alex came up with his own answer, an answer he didn't like at all. "Did they threaten you? Was that it?" "Leave it alone."
"I can't, dammit," Alex said loudly, bringing his fist down on the edge of Stan's desk. "Why can't I get a straight answer from anyone?"
"The night your father died, I received a message on my answering machine. The voice was garbled, but the message was clear. If I asked any questions, my parents would be killed. I'd already lost my wife. And Charles was gone, too. There was nothing to be gained by pursuing the truth. It wouldn't have helped you or your mother. Charles wouldn't have wanted you to grow up thinking he'd been murdered. I know that for sure." He gazed into Alex's eyes. "Would you have made such a different decision?"
"Yes, I would have seen justice done for my friend," Alex said without hesitation. "Is that it-the whole truth?"
Stan hesitated for a split second too long. "That's it," he said. "Now will you let it go?"
"No, because unlike you, I don't have anything to lose."
"What about Julia? Are you willing to risk her life? And the lives of her family, her sister, her stepfather, her friends?"
Alex's eyes narrowed. "How do you know so much about her?"
"Brady filled me in."
"Of course." Alex stood up. "I want to talk to someone in that theater group who was in Moscow. Where do I look?"
A brief pause followed his question; then Stan said, "The Sullivan Theater Group out of Los Angeles. I'm sure you can find their number. A woman named Tanya Hillerman sits on their board now. She was an actress during the Moscow tour."
"You had that information on the tip of your tongue," Alex said, wondering why.
"I figured you'd be asking. You're stubborn as hell." Stan rose from his chair. "As you said, you're a grown man now and capable of making your own decisions, so I'll leave you to it. Just be careful. Don't underestimate the enemy."
"I wish I knew who the enemy was."
Alex made the call from his car after retrieving the number for the Sullivan Theater Group from Information. After working his way through a receptionist and a secretary, he was given a number for Tanya Hillerman. As he waited at a red light, he punched in her number. The phone rang three times before a woman's voice came over the line.
"Hello," she said.
"Tanya Hillerman?"
"This is she. May I help you?"
"I hope so. I'm interested in speaking to you about a cultural exchange that took place in Moscow twenty-five years ago."
"Who are you?' she asked, an edge to her voice, now.
"Alex Manning." He heard her sharp intake of breath.
"The photographer? I thought you died."
"That was my father, Charles," he said. "Is that who you're thinking of?"
"Oh, yes, Charles. You're his son. The little boy who stood at the back of the stage and tried to blend in with the scenery."
"That's me," he said wryly. He had hated that brief stint on the stage. Even though he hadn't had a speaking part, he'd felt very self-conscious. He was much more comfortable behind the lights than under them.
"What did you want to ask me, Mr. Manning?"
"I assume by what you just said that you were there."
"You don't remember me? I was the star, you know. I actually played out a death scene on stage. It was my trademark. No one could die like me. It was very slow and painful to watch, but I enjoyed it."
Alex didn't know how to respond to that. He cleared his throat. "Can you tell me if you remember a costumer named Sarah Davidson or Gregory?"
"Sarah? Let me think. There were a few girls who worked behind the scenes. Was she the dark-haired girl with the big