by Beth Byers
Jack laughed, squeezing her hand before he opened the auto door and seated her inside. Once he was behind the wheel, he said, “Did she tell you anything?”
“She said that Meyers finds her, but she didn’t sound like she was pining for him. If anything, she sounded a bit like a cat with a mouse.”
Jack’s gaze jerked to her. “She seemed rather like a mouse when her father was in the room.”
“Yes, I suspect that she hides the predator inside for her father as well. I suspect he’s a man who wants some sort of…well—tepid flower.”
Jack nodded, silent. “If she has a wealth of inner, I don’t know, dreams and wants—”
Vi laughed and Jack’s gaze turned to her. “Of course she does, Jack. She has dreams and wants and hopes and wishes. She has needs, and given the way she puts that tepid flower mask on and off, I would guess that she’s rather dissatisfied with her lot.”
“Maybe she thinks that marrying Meyers will save her from her current lot.”
Vi considered, and remembered the edge of contempt in Hepzibah Sinclair’s tone. Vi really didn’t think so. What she thought was that Hepzibah Sinclair knew rather too well what her father wanted of her, what Jason Meyers wanted, and what she wanted. Given the way she stabbed her flower into that embroidery, Vi thought that the woman might well be very aware that all of those wants didn’t align.
“What did her father say again?”
Jack shook his head for a moment, his own mind picking at the case just as hers was. “He said that his daughter knew what was expected of her and that she was a good girl. He also said that he’d lose her to a blight on humanity like Jason Meyers over his dead body.”
“Over his dead body?” Vi repeated. She replayed that sentence in her mind, imagining the good reverend with the steepled fingers and the heavy brows. His daughter knew what was expected of her and that she was a good girl. Vi shuddered. Did Hepzibah Sinclair find being relegated to an eternal childhood obedience as suffocating as Vi did? Was the reverend’s daughter happy with her lot?
And, Vi frowned, why was the grandmother so intent on finding her grandson right then? Smith was right. Something was off about this case, and it was the reason Mrs. Meyers was searching for her grandson so earnestly. Maybe she was worried, but Vi couldn’t quite imagine it was that alone.
This Meyers character was someone that everyone recognized as a snake. He wasn’t someone you started looking for after a few days or even a fortnight. He was someone you knew would turn up. There was no way, Vi thought, after a lifetime of knowing the man, that his grandmother hadn’t waited for him to turn up a few times. That she hadn’t wondered and worried. No, Vi shook her head and then turned to Jack, laying out her thoughts only to find he’d been thinking the same.
“We need to talk to her,” Jack said. “Something is pressing this need to find him right away. Ham and I aren’t the most economical of sleuths, Vi. It weeds out the men chasing their wife’s lovers, and she paid that retainer without a pause.”
“Whatever the reason as to why she’s looking so hard for him might well illustrate where to find him.”
Jack nodded.
A light drizzle started and the smell of rain in the air was sufficient to make her relax into her seat. “It’s idiotic that she’s paying you and not giving you all the information.”
“That reason might be enough to give us what we need to find him,” Jack mused. A crack of thunder snapped overhead and it was quickly followed by lightning. The drizzle had changed to a heavy downpour and Jack said, “We’ll talk to her tomorrow then.”
Chapter 10
The run from the auto to the house was enough to soak Vi through to her shoes. The sky had darkened with the storm, and when they stopped the auto outside of their house, the rain was coming down in sheets. Vi glanced at Jack, nodded, and then darted from the auto, racing towards the house. Despite her speed, she was dripping in the great hall moments later.
Hargreaves took her wet coat and she held out her arms somewhat shocked. She was fully soaked from her knees to her toes and every part of her hair that hadn’t been covered by her hat. She hadn’t expected a storm, and she hadn’t been wearing the heaviest of her coats, so the top half of her dress was wet, though in the musty, half-damp way that is possibly more irritating than dripping.
Violet scowled at Hargreaves and then heard a lazy voice say, “Well, well, this is what comes of being industrious.”
“Denny,” Vi muttered, “shouldn’t you be lurking in your own doorways?”
“Lila and I have invited ourselves to dinner. Also we’ve lost power, so we were hoping you had it. The baby and nanny have already installed themselves upstairs.”
Violet met his gaze, nodded in amusement, and then headed upstairs.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Denny called, “We invited Victor and Kate along with Rita and Ham.”
She turned back to him, noted his mischievous grin, and shivered. “Then I suggest you start making hot toddies. It’s a deluge.”
Vi passed the guest room usually used by Lila and Denny and found Lila had just changed into one of Vi’s dresses.
“Sorry darling,” Lila said, taking in the very wet Vi, “all of the dresses I left here are too little, but you had this one.”
Vi was more slender than Lila, but the dress Lila had found could be wrapped and tied on the side so she could just make it work. It was far more revealing on Lila than on Vi, but that just added to the lush beauty that Lila wore so effortlessly.
“Lila, hullo. Must change. Would you mind pushing Denny through making hot toddies? I fear I’m freezing and anyone else who comes will be as well.”
Lila nodded. “We were fools to leave our house. I can’t imagine anyone else coming in this downpour. Denny was going on about something your chef makes as though he can just do it on demand.”
Violet rolled her eyes. Denny hadn’t a clue how the kitchens worked, and she doubted he’d ever done any scrambling of food for himself beyond cold meats, cheese, and bread. Perhaps, he could be expected to slice himself a piece of bread and slather it in butter.
“He makes himself helpless in order to get you to do it for him,” Violet told Lila who nodded and then glanced beyond Vi. The sound of Jack on the stairs was enough for Lila to shoo Vi into her bedroom before Jack found her wet in the hallway. He’d get that pained look in his eyes and worry about some deadly case of pneumonia.
Vi winked at Lila and rushed into her bedroom, throwing herself into the bath as soon as the door shut. She just barely turned on the hot water faucet by the time Jack came in. She soaked in the tub long enough to stop the shivers and then wrapped herself in a towel and a kimono.
She found Jack and hot coffee in her bedroom and declared, “These are the moments when I realize that you are the man for me and that no other would do.”
“Hargreaves sent it up, unasked for,” Jack told her with a grin. “You’ll have to leave me for him.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” Vi warned. While she’d been bathing, someone had started a fire and put a candelabra in their room.
“Hargreaves is also preparing for us losing electricity.”
Vi nodded, curling into a chair with the hot coffee. It was just what she needed to heat her insides to match her now-warmed toes. She sipped it until she was sure she wouldn’t burn her mouth and then nearly guzzled it.
“Do you ever think how lucky we are when we explore these cases?” she asked, leaning back to close her eyes.
“Because we aren’t stealing from each other and murdering one another?”
Vi nodded. It wasn’t that they hadn’t been touched by murder and envy, they had. But it had never touched their real relationships. Not her brothers or her sister. Or her parents. Vi’s cousin had murdered her great-aunt, and painful though it had been, it was the loss of Aunt Agatha that had destroyed her, not Meredith’s betrayal. Meredith not being part of Vi’s life had caused nary a ripple.
Violet felt almost guilty over that, but they hadn’t been all that close. If Victor had hurt someone, especially someone Vi loved, she’d have been destroyed along with the victim. How did you get past having someone integral to your life being a monster? How did a mother reconcile the crimes of her child? Or a woman her husband?
“I keep thinking about Bertha Meyers. She’s lost the respect and—if not love—tolerance of her children. They have been forced to make decisions between being attentive to their mother and grandmother and allowing her venom to infect the rest of their family or distancing themselves from her entirely. That’s a hard choice, a terrible one.”
Jack pressed a kiss against her forehead. “That won’t be us, darling.”
“Victor tells me that you’ll be watching the girls in two weekends so we can dart to the Amalfi Coast for a little sunshine.” Kate had a light in her eyes as she smiled at Vi. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Vi said gaily. “I will spoil them so rotten that you’ll hate me forever, but they’ll be safe and happy.”
Kate paused, and Vi could see the worry in her sister-in-law’s gaze, but Kate didn’t say anything else. Jack squeezed Kate’s arm in assurance as Vi swore that the twins would be all right.
“So, Ham tells me that the client’s house was a little…alarming.” Rita grinned at Vi. “Something about cuckoo clocks.”
“It was as though everything your grandmother might have liked had mated, reproduced, and invaded. A single cuckoo clock is, perhaps, charming. A hundred is horrifying. A few pieces of embroidery is, perhaps, tolerable, but a roomful?”
Lila snorted. “When we learned to embroider, you threw yours across the room and declared it torture of the worst sort.”
“And so it is, but Lila—” Vi shook her head. “It was as if you took everything cozy and good and drowned yourself in it.”
Lila laughed while Victor announced, “Vi, darling, I am going to get you embroidery for Christmas.”
She started to send him a scathing look, but Rita squeaked, “Oh.”
Vi immediately studied Rita. It was a bit shadowed in the dining room as the chandelier threw off only enough light to imitate flickering candles, so she couldn’t tell much.
“I don’t feel good,” Rita muttered. “Does anyone else feel funny?”
“You think we had bad fish?” Ham asked. “I feel all right—”
He was already worried and Vi was surprised he wasn’t seeking out Rita’s pulse.
Before Vi could react to either her brother, Rita, or Ham, thunder rumbled and then there was a snap of lightning and the electricity flickered before it went out. Jack muttered low and Victor groaned.
“At least the babies are sleeping,” Denny said, surprising Vi with the reality that he’d become something a little more than the laziest and less serious of her friends.
“We should gather round a fire and tell ghost stories,” Kate suggested.
“Rita.” Ham’s voice in the darkness cut through. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” she replied and there was the sound of shuffling.
“Do you think Hargreaves is already coming?” Lila asked lazily. “Oh, I can’t see my wine. What poor luck.”
“Yes,” at least four of them answered Lila’s question about Hargreaves and Jack finished with, “Stay put. He’ll be here, and we can avoid a fall and a broken arm.”
“Oh,” Denny suggested suddenly, “what if our next trip was a long ramble through the countryside, roughing it with tents and catching trout?”
The room fell silent and Vi pictured them as one turning towards Denny even though it was dark. His voice was full of mischief, maybe even more than normal. He giggled and then lights snapped on again, flickered, and then turned off once more. A moment later, Rita squeaked again.
“Rita?” Ham asked, and he was moving in the darkness.
Then the door to the dining room opened and Hargreaves appeared with a lit candle. It threw the sight of Ham feeling Rita’s forehead into relief. Hargreaves paused, and then continued lighting the candles he’d placed in the room when the storm struck.
“Do you need a doctor?” Vi asked, trying to keep her voice even.
As Hargreaves lit the final candle, the lights turned on again, and the telephone rang shrilly. Somehow, Violet thought, given the storm and the presence of nearly everyone she loved in the room, there was an air of desperation in that tone.
“Odd,” Ham said, his attention turned from Rita for a mere moment.
“Excuse me, sir,” Hargreaves said, leaving the room to get the telephone.
“Are you cold?” Ham asked his wife.
“No, I—” Rita shook her head. A moment later, Rita gasped, this horrifying breath of pain.
“A doctor!” Jack declared.
“I’ll get one,” Victor said, rushing out of the dining room followed by Kate.
“I’ll get Nanny,” Denny called. He was already at the door and racing ahead.
Vi leapt to her feet, crossing to Rita as Ham lifted her. The moment he did, she groaned. The pain was as evident as the storm growling outside. Jack threw the door open, holding it for Ham to carry Rita through.
“I did what they said,” Rita was nearly babbling. “I stayed calmed, I rested, I—” She pressed her face into Ham’s neck and Vi could hear a constant mumbling of self-recriminations and protestations that she’d followed everyone’s counsel.
Ham’s murmuring in return was low and comforting, but it didn’t seem to break through Rita’s terror. Vi followed, crying along with Rita until she gasped again. It was pain-filled and ended when Rita held her breath, her face screwed up in pain.
A moment later thunder cracked and an almost immediate sound of lightning striking nearby made them all pause and then the lights turned off again.
They were halfway up the stairs and Ham’s curse was dark and fierce.
“I’ll get a candle,” Vi called. She reached out for the banister and carefully felt her way down the stairs. Lila had already left the dining room with the candle, and they hurried back to the stairs together.
The moment there was enough light to see by, Ham continued to carry Rita up, and they followed at top speed. Victor, Vi was sure, had either contacted the doctor or gone for one. There was one who was close enough to hurry towards on foot even if it was raining too hard to motor over.
Jack had thrown open the door to Rita and Ham’s usual room, but Ham didn’t lay her down. He’d taken a seat on the side of the bed and was holding Rita as she gasped. Vi found herself staring from the doorway. Vi knew she was crying along with Ham and Rita, but it wasn’t enough to stop what was happening.
Vi found herself moved to the side and realized that Denny had physically lifted her out of the way for Nanny to step in. The woman took in the scene and Vi just heard the low murmur. “I was afraid of this.”
Vi rubbed her chest as Nanny shooed out Jack and Vi and shut the door. Nanny tried to get rid of Ham too, but the look he gave her had her holding her hands up in surrender.
“Jack—” Vi said, turning to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She didn’t know what to do or how to act. She didn’t know how to deal with Rita suffering or the fact that something had gone wrong, again, with the baby. She pressed her face into his chest and wept until Victor appeared with a candle, shedding light in the hallways.
“The doctor is on his way.” Victor sounded sick. Vi nodded against his chest, not looking up from Jack’s chest. “He is attending another birth and will be here as soon as he can. Kate has gone upstairs to help with the little ones.”
Vi shuddered, so grateful that Rita and Ham hadn’t been alone, so grateful they were together, and so, so terrified that they were going to lose Rita. Would the baby make it? Vi was very afraid that he wouldn’t.
Would Rita die? Vi thought, given how the pregnancy wasn’t that far along, that Rita might be all right—at least physically. The calculations that Vi was making were nauseating. Ever
ything about this was nauseating. She pressed harder into Jack.
As the evening progressed, they kept vigil outside of Rita’s room. Vi sat on the floor next to Jack, her head on his shoulder. Victor was on her other side, watching the door when he wasn’t checking on Kate. Lila and Denny sat a little farther down. Eventually Beatrice and Smith appeared to join the vigil. Long after there was any hope for the baby surviving, the doctor arrived. In the end, he could only try and reassure them that Rita’s prognosis was good.
Chapter 11
Somewhere around dawn, Vi asked, “Who telephoned earlier?”
It was the idlest of questions and Vi didn’t really care. What she wanted was to see Rita, but Rita didn’t want to see anyone. She was curled into her bed, with Ham refusing to let her go, holding her while she cried. The rest of them sat outside in the hallway and stared helplessly at the closed bedroom door.
“Ah,” Victor cleared his throat. “Oh—the woman you’re working for, Jack. She was a little hysterical when I arrived, but I fear I ended the call.”
Jack didn’t shift and he didn’t answer follow-up questions, but Vi snorted. Jack would need to go to his next appointment with the woman on his own. She curled more deeply into Jack’s side, but he stood and pulled Vi up with him.
“It’s morning. We should sleep while they rest so we can help when they’re ready to move.”
Vi didn’t argue and didn’t even realize she was still just staring at the closed door until Victor pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll go check on Kate and the babies and head to bed.”
Violet thought to follow her brother, but instead, she watched as Jack hauled Denny to his feet, who in turn lifted the half-sleeping Lila and headed a few doors down to their bedroom. It was Beatrice who rose first, nudging Smith until he followed her away from Rita and Ham’s door.
“Jack—” Vi shook her head. She didn’t know what to say or do, but she didn’t think she could sleep.
