Tarnished Angel by Elaine Barbieri Page A

prestigious Tombstone Club could not afford to look less than his best. But, in truth, if had been a common clerk or teller in a bank, he would still have maintained an impeccable personal appearance. Harvey was vain.
        Having long before acknowledged that vice, Harvey had added it, without thought or distress, to the other numerous and acknowledged flaws in his character. Surely a man could not help but be vain when he knew he was handsome? He had been an appealing child, a good-looking adolescent, and he was well aware that he was a devastatingly handsome adult. His good looks had gotten him far, and he had played them for all their worth.
        Harvey took great pride in the fact that his body was still firm, free of the fat and sagging muscle that usually accompanied middle age. He was also aware that this heavy silver mane and well-manicured mustache were just as attractive to the opposite sex as they had been in their original youthful color. He had at first observed with distaste the lines maturity had added to his   faultless countenance, but later on had discovered that many women were attracted to mature men. With that realization, his already considerable ego had received another unneeded lift.
        As for business, there was no doubt his appearance added to his credibility as one of the richest men in this part of the country. He looked the part, played the part, every inch the man he appeared to be. He was handsome, rich, well known in the financial community, where he was considered shrewd and almost invincible. He had long ago decided he would do anything he deemed necessary to maintain his position and expand his wealth, and he had followed that philosophy avidly all of his life.
        Which brought him to his presently unsettling state of affairs. The fury he had suppressed in deference to his daughter's presence now surged to life, flooding his smooth-shaven cheeks with color. He had evaded Devina's questions about the latest robbery because he had not wished her to see how very frustrated he was by the apparent success of the vendetta being waged against him. Yes, he had enemies, but up until now they had been ineffective against him. The situation was beginning to change. Six payrolls had been stolen, and in the face of Till-Dale's current shortage of liquid assets, he was beginning to feel the pinch.
        But Harvey's fury did not stem entirely from financial concerns. A new dimension had been added to his rage with the realization that a criminal a common thief had actually had the audacity to abuse his beautiful daughter, to threaten her life!
        Harvey took a deep breath and made an effort to bring his emotions under control. It would do no good to allow anger to rule his thoughts. Instead, he would intensify his efforts to identify the men who waged a war against him. When that was accomplished, he would have them hunted down. He would see them imprisoned for the crimes they had committed against him, and for the unpardonable affront of touching Devina.
        Harvey turned onto Third Street. The congenial manner he had exhibited at the breakfast table for Devina's benefit had been replaced by the stiff arrogance that had become his trademark, and he grimaced as the buildings at the intersection of Toughnut Street and Third came into view. He would take care of his business in this unpleasant section of town, and then he would meet with, George Tillson , his partner and attorney. George was as close a friend as Harvey would allow. Together they had   formed Till-Dale Enterprises and brought it to its present position, and together they would be victorious over the common thieves who threatened them.
        But first things first.
        Stepping up onto the board sidewalk, Harvey walked arrogantly into a small cheese and Chinese delicacies store. He glanced around impatiently, ignoring the various Oriental objects on display. He felt a personal flash of satisfaction