Copper Moon by Rachel Caine

Copper Moon by Rachel Caine

Author:Rachel Caine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media


Solo: December 13, 1994

Dr. Richard Urdiales had a big-city look to his offices. Abby sat quietly, hands folded, in a comfortable wing chair and listened to the soothing tick of the large grandfather clock in the corner. The other chairs were all empty, though they felt full, somehow, full of watchers. The receptionist—the wood nameplate on the desk said her name was Carolyn—was being very careful not to stare. She’d probably had a lot of practice at ignoring patients. Considering the thick expensive money-green carpet, the original artwork on the walls, Dr. Urdiales would have to have a large client load. A loaded client load.

Abby fidgeted, not for the first time, with the thought of getting up and leaving. Carolyn looked up at her and gave her a friendly, professional smile.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked. She had a professional voice, as well. Smooth and too cultured to have come out of local Midland society. She was a smallish woman but well-dressed, with a pleasantly round face and glossy black hair that fell smoothly back from her face and just reached her shoulders. “We have hot tea with honey and lemon, or coffee, or soft drinks.”

Hot tea reminded her of Miklos. Abby shook her head and looked over at the magazines fanned on the shiny coffee table. Vanity Fair. Cosmopolitan. Ladies Home Journal. She pulled a new, glossy issue of People from the arrangement and tried to concentrate on the lives and disasters of movie stars.

The room had a faint, pleasant scent of cinnamon and the more seductive tint of Carolyn’s perfume. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Abby shivered anyway, just on general principle, and wished devoutly that she hadn’t promised John Lee this, wished she could think of something, anything to pull her away.

Carolyn’s telephone hummed musically for attention. She murmured a greeting into it, made responsive noises, and wrote something on a pad on her desk. She replaced the receiver in the cradle and continued making notes. Without looking up she said, “Abby?”

Maybe somebody had called with a reprieve. Abby clutched her magazine so hard it crinkled. “Yes?”

“You can go in now. Right through that door.” Carolyn pointed with her gold pen toward the entrance. Abby swallowed, nodded, and put her magazine back in its proper place in the arrangement before standing up. Her feet didn’t want to move but they did, shuffling through the expensive, springy carpet. Her hand went out to turn the doorknob. The door squeaked just slightly as it swung open, and a blast of warmer air washed over her. More cinnamon, stronger this time, and the biting, fresh smell of men’s cologne.

On the other side of the money-green carpet, Dr. Urdiales stood with his back to her, watering a large green English ivy. He set the silver water pitcher aside and turned toward her. His smile was the first thing she noticed—wide, unforced, full of even white teeth. His skin was the golden brown most people paid tanning salons



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