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There was a slightpause and Allison could almost hear the wheels turning inside thewoman’s brain. “If there’s anything I should know,I trust that you’ll tell me.”
“Of course.”She said smoothly and waited for the call to be transferred.
“Is this Ms.Allison Simpson?” The voice sounded uncertain and a littleshaky.
“Yes.”
“I hope Ihaven’t caught you at an inconvenient time.”
“Not at all.What can I do for you, Mr. Hamilton?”
“Please, callme Silas,” He uttered a nervous laugh before rushing on. “Wewouldn’t want any mix up with my son.”
“Okay, Silas,what can I do for you?”
“Is it possiblefor me to see you? I need to talk to someone. I’m not able toget around as I used to.”
“Mr.- er Silas,I’m in the middle of composing several press conferences andfrankly I’m not sure I’m the one you should be speakingto. What is this about?”
“It’sabout the interview. Several reporters have been sniffing around andasking for a story.”
“Have you toldyour son?”
“I haven’treally heard from him. I’m sure you know that we’re noton good terms.”
“I think theentire world knows that. I’m sorry, I have to- “
“I need to talkto someone and I have a feeling that person is you. I’m askingyou to meet with me. Please.”
Pushing back againstthe chair, she contemplated the advisability of meeting with him. Shewas angry at the man after seeing what he’d done to his ownson. She wasn’t going to be objective, but she was curious andthe man sounded desperate.
“I can leavehere at five. I’m going to need the address.”
“Thank you somuch.”
“Don’tthank me yet,” She told him dryly. “Give me the address.”
*****
She’d avoidedthe dragon, by saying she was in meetings, which wasn’tentirely untrue. After finishing up with her team, she slipped outand made her way towards the address Silas Hamilton had given her.
The sprawling housewas situated in an exclusive neighborhood. The place was secluded andquiet and struck her as a neighborhood geared towards the retiredrich.
There was a high ironfence and two wrought-iron gates which had been left open, no doubt,because she was expected. She drove straight through and up thecurved, cobbled driveway. The pretty palm trees glistened from thesnow that had fallen two nights ago.
She parked at thefront door, which had been thrown open, the minute the car came to astop. A middle-aged woman stood inside the doorway, watching asAllison made her way up the steps of the wide porch.
“Ms. Simpson.”A smile wreathed her face as she stepped back to allow her to enter.“My name is Hilda. Mr. Silas is waiting for you in the sittingroom. Please follow me. I hope it wasn’t too difficult findingyour way.”
“Not at all.”Allison admired the quiet beauty of the green and yellow décor.She was led through a wide passageway and caught glimpses of antiquefurnishings in the various rooms.
“I’llbring refreshments.” Hilda smiled at the man who rose to hisfeet slowly. The resemblance of father to son was so uncanny, that ithad her pausing for a minute as the gaze settled on her face.
“Ms. Simpson,”The voice lacked the authoritative voice of the son, but the pitchwas the same. “I'm so happy you came. Please sit.” Hegestured to the conversation area where a group of comfortable chairswere placed strategically around a cherry wood table.
“I hope you’rehungry,” He attempted a smile as he took his seat. “Hildamade beef stroganoff and no one beats her cooking.”
“I have toconfess I am.” She sat down and gazed around the elegantsitting room with its wide windows facing what looked like an arborcovered with drippings of snow. “You have a lovely home.”
