The Loner: Crossfire by J.A. Johnstone

his wife’s position in society secure, he wouldn’t cause a scene at a party.
    “You intrigue me.” Mrs. Carlyle’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Something’s going on here, and I want to know what it is.”
    “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you any more ... right now.” Conrad’s words held the promise of future information, as they had with Jessup Nash.
    “ Quid pro quo ,” Mrs. Carlyle snapped. “I know you studied Latin. You’re familiar with the concept.”
    “Of course. But my hands are tied at the moment. However, I can tell you this much. If my conversation with Lannigan goes as I hope, I can promise you there will be a story, and a good one.”
    “And that story will be mine?”
    Conrad shrugged and inclined his head, indicating agreement without actually saying as much.
    Suddenly, Mrs. Carlyle laughed. “You’re trying to trick me, young man. It won’t work. I’m on to all the tricks young men use to make poor women like myself believe they’ve promised something when they really haven’t.” She picked up a copy of the newspaper lying on the desk and tossed it closer to Conrad. “I won’t haggle with you, especially since what you want to know is already in print. And you’d already know it if you had bothered to read my column this morning,” she added caustically.
    Conrad picked up the paper, which was that morning’s edition folded back to Mrs. Carlyle’s column. He had scanned those pages that very morning while eating breakfast, but hadn’t noticed what seemed so obvious to him now.
    One of the notes in the column was about a party to be held in four days at the Nob Hill mansion of Mr. and Mrs. Madison Kimball. Among a long list of guests expected to attend were Mr. and Mrs. Dexter Lannigan. The name had meant nothing to Conrad when he read it in the paper that morning, but he should have noticed the D.L. initials, he told himself.
    It hadn’t occurred to him the man possibly responsible for trying to have him killed would be attending a high society ball.
    He looked up at her. “Do you think you can arrange for me to be invited to that party?”
    “I don’t think it’ll be any trouble at all,” Mrs. Carlyle said. “If Roberta Kimball knew you were in town, you would have already gotten an invitation, even if she had to deliver it personally. I’ll mention that I’ve seen you, and you should hear from her before the day’s over. Where are you staying?”
    “At the Palace.”
    “Of course you are. I’ll tell Roberta.”
    “Thank you.” Conrad put the newspaper back on Mrs. Carlyle’s desk.
    “Oh, a simple thank you isn’t going to be enough. Not by a long shot.”
    “Then what can I do to repay you for your help?” he asked with a smile.
    “Let me share the story with that little reporter Nash when the time comes. And have dinner with me.”
    Conrad had a hunch Francis Carlyle’s plans for him included more than dinner. But he would deal with that when the time came. As for sharing the story with Jessup Nash, he was confident he could make some sort of arrangement.
    “I think that’s fair enough.” He got to his feet. “Thank you for your help.”
    Mrs. Carlyle came around the desk and laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t forget, we have a deal.”
    “I won’t,” Conrad promised.
    “If there’s anything else I can do for you while you’re in town, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
    Conrad leaned closer and kissed her on the cheek. “Of course,” he murmured.
    She was smiling when he left the office. As he eased the door closed, his thoughts immediately turned back to Dex Lannigan. Waiting four days to confront the man would be difficult, but that seemed like the best course of action. He would just have to be patient, Conrad told himself.
    He had waited this long to find his children. A few more days wouldn’t hurt anything.

Chapter 14
     
    “Did you find out what you wanted to know?” Nash asked as Conrad stopped at his desk.
    Conrad nodded. “I