Symphony of Light and Winter by Renea Mason Read Free Book Online

weren’t naked?”
    I shot him a look of disbelief, only to encounter a smile I was sure existed only to irritate me. “I was disheveled, not naked.” I gripped the steering wheel tighter.
    “OK. OK. I believe you. By the way, why did you call him Cyril?”
    In frustration, I threw my head forward and banged the top of the steering wheel, focused back on the road, then sighed. “Cyril was his name when I knew him before. I think he changed it for business reasons.”
    I had never been so thankful to see O’Riley’s in all my life. We passed it and parked in the garage across the street from the concert hall. “I’m going to try her cell one more time.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed her number before Clarence could ask anything else. No answer.
    Clarence reached across the console and placed his hand on my arm. “She’s probably doing something stupid, like stalking Harmon. We’ll find her.”
    I looked at Clarence. “Why don’t you go back to O’Riley’s just in case she shows up? I’m going to head on over to the office to see if she left a note or something. Maybe she left me a voice mail on the office phone. What time do you want to meet so I can drive you home?”
    “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find a ride. If nothing else I’ll take the bus. You go home and get some rest.”
    He gave my arm one last squeeze before we got out of the car. “We’ll find her. Just be careful.”
    He hugged me and I gave him an uncharacteristic peck on the cheek.
    The beeping of my automatic door locks echoed through the garage as we walked off in different directions. My shoes tapped as they met concrete. The concert hall wasn’t far, but still a decent walk. The city streets acted like wind tunnels, sending huge gusts of river-cooled air through each alley. The wind blowing across my ears made it difficult to hear, yet the feeling of being watched tickled my awareness. I paused, looked in all directions, listening. Discerning nothing, I kept walking.
    A few steps later, I paused again as the sensation washed over me, prickling my skin. Certain someone watched me, I turned the corner leading to the symphony garden. I took an opportunity to use what looked like my admiration of the gathering space to search for prying eyes. Again, nothing.
    The concert hall featured an urban garden with a huge cascading fountain, expert landscaping, and small bistro tables. Two large, twisted iron gates showcased the space surrounded by an eight-foot tall brick wall. I peered over my shoulder. Not a soul in sight.
    As I turned my attention back to the entrance I noticed the lock, which usually hung straight, was twisted. To most passersby it would appear secure, but having locked it myself dozens of times, I knew something was wrong. Not wanting to draw further attention, I slid the gate open, inch by inch. Anytime a creak sounded, I slowed the progress to silence it. Opening the door just enough, I slipped inside.
    The ground, covered in etched, rounded paving stones, made for uneven walking, especially in dress shoes. The streetlights barely illuminated the courtyard, but cast enough light so trees in large, round planters projected dark silhouettes on the brick. I flattened my back against the wall. Waiting for my eyes to adjust, I watched for movement. Only an occasional car drove by; the city night was quiet.
    I made it to the fountain, following the curvatures of the ledge that normally housed water, but had been drained for the winter. I moved with slow determination. A bistro table with a rumpled cover caught my eye, and I paused. As soon as my mind pieced the picture together, I continued on my quest.
    Halfway through the space, I detected motion coming from a figure hunched by the door to the lower lounge. I heard what sounded like metal on metal. The figure stood. It appeared to be a tall man with a large frame. As he turned, the reflected light gave me a glimpse of his features and golden hair. He wasn’t