No Nice Girl by Perry Lindsay

Author:Perry Lindsay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mills & Boon Series
Published: 2009-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

PHYLLIS HOPED WITH all her heart that Anice would be in bed and asleep when she got home. But the moment she fitted her key into the lock, her tired heart sank. For Anice called swiftly, “Is that you, Cousin Phyllis? Goodness. I was worried about you. That Mr. Rutledge is just a brute to make you work this late—and gracious me, how tired you look.”

“I’m very tired,” agreed Phyllis.

“But I’ve got a bit of dinner for you—I knew you wouldn’t have time for a decent meal,” said Anice, following Phyllis to the bedroom door.

“No food, thanks, Anice—just sleep,” said Phyllis. Then, goaded by the girl’s wide-eyed protest, she said curtly, “I had dinner. Mr. Rutledge had food sent up from the restaurant on the corner. It was very good.”

“Oh,” said Anice, and smiled her relief. “I’m so glad.”

Phyllis turned on her with sudden suspicion, and before she could control the words, she demanded sharply, “Anice, did you telephone Mrs. Lawrence and suggest that if she dropped in at Mr. Rutledge’s office about eight, she’d discover something…”

Anice was wide-eyed with shock.

“Mrs. Lawrence? Who is she? Good gracious. Phyllis, why would I do that? What would I want to do that for? You and Mr. Rutledge were working—” she protested, hurt and puzzled.

Phyllis studied her for a long moment.

“Well, someone, a woman with a very pleasant voice, telephoned Mrs. Lawrence—” began Phyllis.

“And Mrs. Lawrence acted on an anonymous call like that?” protested Anice, bewildered. “Goodness, either she isn’t very much in love with him or else she must be a very suspicious person. Why, Cousin Phyllis, you’ve been working late with Mr. Rutledge one or two nights a week for just ages. Why should Mrs. Lawrence all of a sudden come all over suspicious and barge in?”

“I suppose she became suspicious because of a telephone call.”

Anice laughed. “Well, she must have felt like a perfect fool when she walked in and found you working your heads off. I’d have enjoyed seeing her face—it must have been a scream!” she caroled lightly, and missed nothing of the slight change in Phyllis’ expression. “Of course, you were working—” she finished gently.

“Naturally,” Phyllis flashed at her, her tone shaking. “What did you suppose we would be doing?”

Anice grinned impishly. “You and Mr. Rutledge—nothing else. But there are a couple of gals in that office who are so crazy about Mr. Rutledge he wouldn’t be safe alone with them for five minutes,” she said frankly.

Phyllis looked at her sharply.

“Oh?” she said, and then slowly. “Could one of them have telephoned Mrs. Lawrence?”

“Gosh, I wouldn’t know, Cousin Phyllis. It was a rotten thing to do. I’d hate to accuse anyone unless I had some real evidence, and I haven’t a speck. I just know the way the girls talk sometimes in what they call ‘the little girls’ powder room. Most of them think Mr. Rutledge is a sort of god. I think he’s a pain in the neck, myself—he’s always so stiff and so self-important,

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