Satan's Spy (The Steve Church saga Book 2) by André Gallo (most inspirational books of all time TXT) 📕

so proud of was greasy with the specter of baldness looming over it. Despite his physical decline, he reeked of arrogance.

He ignored my obvious reluctance to touch him and spoke as if we’d shared a warm embrace. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. Let’s go into the den. I’ll have Juan bring us drinks. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“It’s a little early for me. But we do have things to talk about.” I followed him down a hallway that opened into a vast open space. The back wall was all windows with an incredible view of the contrasting blues and greens of ocean and sky. This was the balcony scene my sister, a self-made Rapunzel, had described.

The rest of the room was a study in gray. Smokey gray walls, pale, grayish wooden floors covered with a geometric-print accent rug in shades of gray with touches of yellow. A gigantic leather sectional, complete with dual recliners, the kind Stella had once declared incredibly tacky, was charcoal. The effect was somber and drab.

Ben called for Juan to bring him a gin and tonic straight up.

“Sure you don’t want something?”

I shook my head and sank into one of the matching chairs, so gigantic they rendered an average-size person childlike. He sat across from me.

“You’re looking great, Grace. You’ve always been a beautiful woman, but there’s something new about you, a kind of glow.”

Ben had must have forgotten he’d used that exact “kind of glow” line on me when we first met. At least, he was right about there being something new. Now, the glow was from having seen the light of what a pretentious asshole he was.

“You know why I’m here. We don’t have a lot of time, so I’d appreciate it if we could cut through the bullshit and get to the point. I want to find out what happened to Stella.” I hadn’t meant to be so direct, but sitting near the man who might have killed my sister with him thinking he could charm his way back into my life sickened me.

His eyes narrowed, and he glared at me as if I were a spider he planned to squash. I got a glimpse of what Stella saw every time she angered him. I surveyed the room to see if I could spot a vase and saw only a rectangular cut-glass piece filled with gray pebbles. It would do in a pinch. But the look passed, and I put my safe word on hold.

“I can’t imagine how upset you must be, Grace. But I told your mother the same thing I said to the authorities. She got caught in a storm and, uh, you can read the rest from the accident report.” He unwrapped the napkin around his drink and dabbed at dry eyes.

I wanted to scream he knew Stella would never go out if there were even a hint of risky weather, but I didn’t. Ben was the consummate liar. He’d stick to his story no matter what. I needed to try another approach.

“That’s what you say happened, but there’s more to it, isn’t there? What was going on between the two of you that made her tell Mom she was coming home?”

He stopped mid-sip and curled his lip. The movement was quick and subtle, but I struck a nerve

“I won’t deny we had our troubles. Your sister was a passionate woman. But, of course, you know that don’t you, Grace?” He paused, clearly looking forward to my reaction, but I kept my cool. He continued, “There are things you’re unaware of. Things I’ve spared you from until now.”

I looked over him at the ocean. He shifted in his chair.

“At first, it was great between us. She loved the water and was crazy about the house. We flew in a decorator from Miami and I let the two of them splurge. The guy was a real twinkle-toes. Said we needed a ‘modern-rustic’ approach, whatever the hell that is. When they finished spending my money on chandeliers and shit, she was happy. Being the most beautiful woman in the room when we entertained thrilled her. She took up surfing, against my wishes, I might add. It was too dangerous, but you know how strong willed she could be.”

He downed his drink and called for Juan to bring another. Only a quarter after two and Ben was on his way to getting hammered. I decided this could work to my advantage.

“I’ve forgotten a lot about my sister,” I said. “Please, refresh my memory.”

He swirled the gin and tonic before tipping it to his mouth. “Stella always wanted more. The woman was never satisfied. More clothes, more jewelry, bigger parties. The cost of living is low here, Grace, but my finances aren’t unlimited.” He gave me what I guessed he thought was a pitiful look. I had never known how much he’d inherited from his parents, but I suspected it was a hefty sum. That along with the drug money should have been enough for two lifetimes in Ecuador. Tiny beads of sweat coated his thin upper lip. I was gratified at the knowledge my silence was getting to him.

“Anyway, your sister became very critical of our lifestyle. I was patient. I understood she was homesick. She missed her family and friends. And, frankly, Grace, she was a wreck over her relationship with you.”

There it was. Ben was going to shift the blame for Stella’s death to me. Still, I kept silent. Now droplets of sweat gathered on his forehead.

“The last year Stella became, for lack of a better word, completely irrational.” He gulped the rest of his second gin and tonic.

“That’s two words, but, please, continue.”

He held up his empty glass. “You know how I hate to drink alone, Grace. I insist you join me.”

I sensed a threat in the invitation but needed him to keep drinking.

“Juan,” he shouted. “Another round but make the lady’s vodka.”

The young man brought the drinks so quickly