Low Country Liar

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Authors: Janet Dailey
began the next scene."
    "I'd love to have coffee with you, but I'm afraid I can't." Lisa glanced at her watch. The minutes were ticking away. She needed the early start to work so she could make the transformation into Ann Eldridge before reaching Slade's office.
    "Are you going somewhere at this hour?" Mitzi frowned in astonishment.
    Poor Peggy and Susan, Lisa thought, they might never know how useful they had been to her since she arrived in Charleston.
    "I'm meeting Sue and Peg for breakfast." She hated deceiving her aunt this way, but it was for her own good. "Since we didn't get any sight-seeing done yesterday, we thought we'd get an early start at it today."
    "Oh, I see." But something in Mitzi's tone indicated that she thought they had taken leave of their senses. "What are you planning to see today? There is a tour boat that takes you to Fort Sumter where the first battle of the Civil War took place. It's really quite fascinating to wander about the old battlements and listen to the park ranger explain about the long Union siege of the fort. The South never lost it in battle. They ultimately abandoned it toward the close of the war, but it was never taken from them."
    "Actually I'm not sure where we're going today," Lisa explained. "The girls know their way around better than I do, so they are making all the plans."
    "Be sure to have them take you to Fort Sumter."
    "I'll tell them," she promised with fingers mentally crossed. "I'd really better be going, Mitzi. I'll see you tonight."
    "Have fun."
    "I will," she returned and nearly dashed out the door.
    Her heels clicked loudly on the paved sidewalk as she hurried along the street. At least this time she wouldn't have to stop to ask directions to Slade's office. Lisa glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven-thirty. She quickened her pace.
    Using the ladies' room of a restaurant to change, she donned the flame-colored wig, outlined her lips with a coral gloss and replaced her birthstone with the wedding band. She smiled secretly to herself as she emerged, wondering if anyone had noticed the blonde going in and the redhead coming out.
    When Slade arrived at the office, she was hard at work, busily transcribing the legal briefs from the dictaphone. Nodding an indifferent "good morning," he picked up the few phone messages from her desk and went directly into his own office. Lisa hoped that he hibernated there. Now that he had met Lisa Talmadge, she didn't want him noticing similarities to Ann Eldridge.
    At each sound coming from the outer reception area, Lisa glanced expectantly toward the door. Drew was supposed to return her aunt's file this morning, and she desperately needed to get her hands on it. She couldn't hope to fool Slade indefinitely. The sooner she could get her hands on the information she needed the better.
    Half the morning was gone before Drew appeared. Lisa was on the telephone when he walked in. She smiled a greeting, her eyes lighting up when she saw the folder in his hand.
    It added a special glow to her smile that she was unaware of and caused Drew's quick intake of breath. While she transferred the phone call to Slade, Drew sat on the edge of her desk, gazing at her silently.
    "It's a crime for someone so beautiful to be married," he declared when the transfer had been made.
    "My husband doesn't think so," she smiled faintly, concealing her impatience to take the folder from his hand.  
    "Oh, yes," Drew nodded ruefully, then frowned. "What's his name again?" Lisa drew a complete blank. She couldn't remember the name she had given her fictitious husband. "Burt, that's it." Fortunately he supplied it. "Lucky Burt."
    "Yes." But Lisa wanted to get off that subject before she buried herself in lies. "I see you brought the folder back safely."
    "Yup, it's all here intact," he assured her, depositing it on the desktop. Lisa's fingers inched to open it and peruse the contents. It was an almost uncontrollable urge that she checked with a great deal of

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