Chapter 8

I closed my eyes against the brilliance of the flashlight, and fought to struggle awake. "Chris," a familiar voice said.

I reached out and pushed the flashlight down toward the bed, and I could see Naomi Burke standing beside the bed, dressed in a skirt and blouse.

"What in the world are you doing here?" I wanted to know.

She sat on the bed beside me. In the dim light her face looked troubled. I hope she hadn't seen Annette sneaking out of my room.

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "I was worried about you."

"About me?"

She nodded. "And about the fight we had. Maybe it was silly of me, but I was jealous. I didn't want any other woman to have you, and I was angry because you were in there. Besides, Eva's desires are a little bit different from most other girls."

"I discovered that," I said.

"I knew you weren't the type-at least you didn't seem to be. So I began wondering why you did it."

"And?"

"And I decided you must have a reason that wasn't sexual."

She paused expectantly, and I said: "Did you decide what the reason was?"

"No. Maybe you wanted to get information. Remember that woman's intuition when I first met you, when I thought you might run into trouble? I have that same feeling now." She ran her free hand along my chest, idly. "I'd do anything I can to help you, Chris."

She looked very serious and sincere bending over me like that. I reached out and pulled her head down to mine and kissed her gently on the lips, and then she placed her head on my chest.

"You know," she said, "I can't really feel alone with you here, not in the same house with the other girls and with Old Lady Rice snooping around every corner. Could we take a drive someplace in your car. Just a short one, and maybe park and take a look at the lights of the city?"

It sounded like a wonderful idea, a chance to really relax and let the world go spinning on its dizzy way toward the dawn of a new chaotic day. I glanced at my watch: one-thirty. Besides, maybe I could put my trust in Naomi, and the search for the diamond birthmark would come to a close.

The thought surprised me. I was trying to get myself out of a job in which I'd have to be intimate with lovely girls-and why? Because I liked to have Naomi's head on my chest, that's why, and because I was getting old and mellow and sentimental, and maybe even falling in love.

"Okay," I said, "but only for a couple of hours."

She stood up. "Rice is a heavy sleeper, but you'd better not turn on the lights, just in case. I'll hold the flashlight while you get dressed."

"But point it in some other direction. I'm not an exhibitionist."

She laughed lightly and pointed it at a nearby wall. I got out of bed, stripped off my pajamas, and dressed quickly. I put my .38 special snugly in its belt holster and buttoned my jacket over it.

I nodded to her and we went to the door and she snapped off the flashlight. We stood close together by the door, listening. It was nice having her so close to me, and on impulse I held her and kissed her again. I'd decided I was going to tell her. I would ask her if she had a diamond-shaped birthmark, and she would undoubtedly say no and offer to show me. I'd look, of course, because Dave Keller wouldn't be so sentimental and he'd want to know if I'd checked it.

A disturbing thought occurred to me: suppose, just suppose, Naomi was really Carol Rutledge and she did have a birthmark. It meant she was also the one who had been listening in on the phone, and maybe had even had something to do with the former bodyguard's death.

Annoyed with myself, I shoved that last thought from my mind.

"I don't hear anything," she said.

I slowly turned the doorknob and edged the door open a crack. The hallway was dimly lighted and showed no one in sight. I opened the door farther and glanced up the other way. Charlotte Rice's and Annette's doors were both closed, and no light showed from underneath.

I stepped out into the corridor and signaled Naomi to follow me. Gently, I closed the door again. The house was quiet, and the soft whisper of our feet on the carpeting seemed loud to my ears.

We used the flashlight to cross the expanse of living room, into the front hallway, then eased the large door open. The night was clear and cool, the sky black with brilliant silver pinpoints of stars. There was no traffic on the road. We went out to where I'd parked the Porsche, got in. I started the car, put it in gear, and moved off onto the road.

"There's a turnoff down here a ways," Naomi said. "I'll show you where. There's a sort of plateau where we can park."

The lights of the Porsche stabbed twin shafts into the darkness, sweeping across the silent road and the sentinal trees guarding it. I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw a car's headlamps rounding a curve we'd just taken. A half-mile from the house, I swung onto a side road, and a few seconds later the other car accelerated past on the main road, and roared downhill.

A cluster of trees gave way to an open spot with a panoramic view of the city. I pulled of the road, doused the lights and the motor. Silence drifted over us. The lights of the city stretched out below us like a glowing necklace.

I put my arm around her, and she placed her head on my chest and gazed out the window. "It's so peaceful up here. It's as though we were apart from the rest of the world, just the two of us."

I nodded and felt very content with the softness of her besides me, the delicate feminine smells of her. Up here it seemed as though the troubles of the world were remote, that there was really no such thing as the Mafia or mutder, and violence was a madman's dream.

For awhile we watched the winking lights of the city and the carlights tracing patterns on the night air, and then she said, You want to know something, Chris. I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Funny," I said, "I've been thinking the same about you."

She turned her head up to me, and I took it in my hand and kissed her tenderly.

"I know you've got a job to do," she said, "and I'll try not to interfere. But really, if there's anything I can do to help-"

I made a sudden decision. "There is. Will you do something for me, without asking any questions, something that may seem strange?"

"Of course," she said, "but-" I took the flashlight in my hand, pointed it down at her legs, and switched on the light. "Will you pull up your skirt, please?"

She stared at me, puzzled, and then laughed. "I don't mind, of course," she said incredulously, "But in a sports car?"

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but I'd started it, so I was determined to go through with it. "The skirt, please?"

"Well, okay," she said.

She reached down, grasped the hem of her skirt and lifted it slowly, tantalizingly up along her legs. Her legs were bare and very smooth and lovely, and the unveiling process was delightful to watch. I moved the flashlight back, so that the rays spread out to reveal the full sweep of her limbs.

The skirt rose up above her knees and then past her thighs. She was wearing thin white panties, and the rays of the flashlight penetrated it as though it didn't exist.

"Now what?" she wondered aloud. My voice was hoarse. Even after my recent escapades, the sight of her bare flesh so close and so available was beginning to affect me. I, "Remove the panties please," I said.

"Christopher Sly," she said, a little bit annoyed by the mystery, "this isn't a high school peepshow. You've got something more than sex on your mind. Now what bit?"

I sighed defeat. "A diamond-shaped birthmark," I said, and at her quizzical look: "One of the seven girls has a diamond-shaped birthmark on her-that is, in the area of-I mean-"

"I can imagine where," she said, dryly. "And how many girls have you checked so far?"

"Just Janet Hooper and Eva Slater. Neither one of them is the girl I'm looking for."

"And you think I might be the one?"

I shrugged. "It's possible."

"I don't have birthmarks, there or anyplace else, Chris."

"I'd like to take a look, anyway, if you don't mind."

"That would remove the challenge," she said, lowering her skirt. "No, I think I'll make you work for it, Chris. No free peeks tonight. But tomorrow-"

"Naomi, this is no laughing matter. A man was killed, perhaps because of it, and maybe Carol Rut-ledge will be killed too if we don't get to her in time

-if you're not Carol Rutledge."

"Who?"

"Carol Rutledge, the girl I'm looking for."

"I'm not."

"It's easy to prove it."

"All right," she said, finally, "although this takes a lot of the romance out of it."

She lifted her skirt again to reveal those magnificent legs of hers, hooked her fingers in the panties and pulled down on them, working them over her hips, down her thighs and legs and then stepping out of them.

"Go ahead," she said.

"I'm going , I'm going," I said.

I swung the flashlight to look, and I looked. In the close quarters of a Porsche this is not an easy task, but I managed it with Naomi helpfully shifting to a more accessible angle.

There wasn't a birthmark in sight.

"Anything else you'd like while you're in the neighborhood?" she asked, drily.

Reddening, I switched off the flashlight and sat up in the seat. "I'm sorry, Naomi, but I had to make sure."

She touched my arm. "It's all right, Chris. I was just teasing you. You can look anytime you want. Except I hope you won't be content with merely looking."

"You can depend on that," I promised. "Meanwhile, there's the problem of Carol Rutledge. It's not you, and it's not Janet Hooper or Eva Slater, so it must be one of the remaining four."

She sighed. "And I suppose you'll have to seduce every one of them."

"If I have to," I admitted, more glumly than the situation demanded.

She laughed at that. "You sound as though the prospect doesn't please you."

"I'm sure the prospect pleased Frank Sheldon, too," I reminded. "Look what happened to him."

"You think his death had something to do with the case you're on?"

"I think so, and I may be the next target. That's one reason I've got to find this girl as soon as I can."

"Do you have any idea which one it could be?"

"Not the slightest. All I know is, when I find the birthmark I find Carol Rutledge."

"I've been thinking, Chris," she said. "Wouldn't it be easier if we told Charlotte Rice about it. Maybe she could just have a-well, a sort of inspection like they do in the army?"

"I thought about that," I admitted. "Trouble is, I have a hunch that just mentioning it would send Charlotte Rice into a panic. And even if it didn't do that, it might send Carol Rutledge rushing off to the nearest airport, but fast."

She nodded. "I suppose you're right. I guess you'll just have to do it the hard way."

I grinned at that and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Thanks for your vote of confidence."

"To think," she said, "I was jealous, when all the time you were just doing a job."

"Well, I am human, too, you know."

"I know," she smiled, putting her head on my shoulder. "I've noticed."

I placed my arm around her and held her close. The night was dark and very silent. Below us, the lights flickered quietly.

"Kiss me, Chris," she whispered.

I kissed her. It was a warm, gentle kiss, beginning with nothing more than a fond brushing of lips. Then she turned within the circle of my arms and her hand dropped onto my leg. Her tongue probed my lips seeking entrance, finding it. Her breasts were hard and firm against my chest.

I remembered the sight of her bare legs in the flashlight beam, soft, warm, feminine legs that were now pressing against me intimately. I thought of those marvelous breasts so close to me and automatically I reached to touch them.

Eyes closed, she sighed and without taking her lips from me, she took my hand and guided it into her blouse, under the loosefitting bra. My hands moved, caressing her, and I could feel desire welling up within me swift, certain and demanding. I placed a hand on her leg, under her. skirt, feeling the warm flesh respond to my touch. I moved my fingers along her skin-There was a sound from outside the car, a sound that might have been a footstep.

I froze, listening, and then I tried to pull away from her.

"No," she said, clutching me, "don't stop. Not now!"

"I'm afraid he'll have to, miss," a male voice said. We broke apart, and I turned toward the voice, reaching for the gun at my belt. "Hold it!" the voice said.

I held it. I didn't have much choice. The snub-nosed barrel of a .38 revolver was pointing at my head!