I've Got You Under My Skin by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

mother. I actually dated Muriel Craig for a time. A very attractive woman, but with a touch of ruthlessness in her character. I didn’t stop seeing her only because I’d met Betsy. It would have happened anyhow. It was just a coincidence that it happened at approximately the same time.”
    Jane carried in the tea tray, interrupting his reverie. She set it on the coffee table between the couch and Robert Powell’s chair. “Shall I pour, Mr. Powell?” she asked. She was already holding the teapot and pouring it into Laurie’s cup.
    Robert Powell raised his eyebrows and cast an amused glance at Laurie. After Jane had offered cream or lemon and sugar or sweetener, and then left the room, he said, “As you can see, Jane asked a rhetorical question. She does that all the time.”
    Laurie realized she had skipped lunch and was starved. She made herself take only a nibble of the quarter-sized crustless salmon sandwich. Her first instinct was to pop it into her mouth whole and reach for another one.
    But even as she made herself eat slowly, daintily, she had the feeling that Robert Powell was toying with her. Did he really guess that Nina Craig was the one looking for more money, or had Nina contacted him personally?
    And did he know how much she was going to demand?
    “Am I right about Nina?” Powell asked as he crossed his legs and began to sip his tea.
    “Yes,” Laurie said.
    “How much does she want for all the graduates?”
    “Two hundred fifty thousand dollars net each.”
    “She’s even greedier than I remembered,” Powell murmured. “So like her dear mother.” The amused tone left his voice. “Tell her I’ll pay it.”
    The abrupt change in his expression and tone shocked Laurie.
    “Ms. Moran,” he explained, “you need to understand something: like the four girls at the Gala, I have lived with the cloud of suspicion hanging over me for a long time. Today people are living to be one hundred, but many more don’t live past eighty or eighty-five. Before I die, I want to have a chance for a wide audience to see the girls and me, and perhaps understand how big this house is, and how many people were in and out that night. How it could have been an intruder. As you know, we have extensive films of the party.”
    “I do know that,” Laurie said. “I think I’ve read everything written about the case.”
    “Well, then, you can understand that except for some generous donations to charity and the schools Betsy, Claire, and I attended, I have a great deal of money to spend before I die, so the amount Nina is holding out for is quite insignificant.
    “But do me a favor. When you write to say we accept the conditions of their appearance, please tell Nina that I hope her mother is planning to come east with her. It would be a pleasure to see her again.”
    He anticipated Laurie’s protest. “Of course, I don’t mean for her to stay as a guest in my home. I will reserve a room for her at the St. Regis.”
    He’s going along with it. Laurie did not expect the tsunami of relief that swept over her. The possibility of the program had unexpectedly gathered momentum, and if Powell had flatly turned down Nina Craig’s demand, the show could easily have been doomed, and her job along with it. Two failed series, then a rejected proposal, after intense media interest, would easily have meant her dismissal.
    Brett Young did not tolerate failure.
    She started to thank Powell, then realized he was looking past her out onto the patio beyond the glass doors of his den. Her eyes followed to see what he was looking at that had caused the sudden expression of disapproval.
    She saw a landscaper standing on the patio outside the den, edging the grass around it with a clipper.
    Powell looked from the man to Laurie. “Sorry,” he said, “but I find it annoying that they’re working this late. I’ve made it clear that I want any work on the property completed by noon. If I have guests coming, I don’t want those big