B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart

by A Thief At Heart (lit)

  He fixed her with a level stare. “With what I just heard about you in the hallway, I doubt that Mary would be the type to worry about people who aren’t what they claim to be.”

  “What you heard about me is my--”

  “--your business, Miss Turner. I remember that and what I recently heard about your taking off your clothes at strip bars is not going anywhere.”

  She lifted her chin. “That wasn’t exactly true.”

  He felt slightly relieved at that--though he did wonder at the wording--not that he cared about anything she’d had to do to survive. And he knew she was a survivor. He hoped he could claim to be the same. He told her with counterfeit coolness, “Please, have me checked out if you like. I did get a traffic ticket a few months ago, but that’s all I can think of recently. Do you want the particulars from my identification papers?” he asked her.

  Her finely sculpted nostrils flared. “Am I supposed to believe you’re here simply hoping that Mrs. Connors will introduce you to some eligible young woman?”

  “Is there something so weird about that? That I’m getting to the point in my life where I have to find the right girl and get cracking on a family?”

  Her gaze swept him from contact-disguised eyes to the tips of his monstrously expensive kid leather shoes. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You really shouldn’t have a problem getting a date--with any of the women here or elsewhere.”

  He smiled. “Wow, Jane. I’m flattered. A compliment.”

  She lifted her pretty chin. “Take that however you wish.”

  “I’ll take it that you think I’m hot.”

  She stayed calm. “Whatever.”

  “Believe it or not, these days I feel lukewarm at best. I just can’t seem to make anything stick with a girl past a month or two lately. My last relationship ended badly.”

  “Maybe you should aim higher than girls just out of their teens.”

  “Ouch. And where would you suggest I look for women? Having had my heart broken recently, I have no idea where to look this time around.”

  “How sad for you. A broken heart. Don’t tell me you’ve never broken any hearts yourself, Mr. Murphy,” she declared with undisguised cynicism.

  “It’s a matter of opinion, I guess. I may have broken a few hearts in my time. I’m not proud of it.” He didn’t even flinch saying that.

  “Why do you want to get married?”

  “Why else? It’s time.”

  “And you need a rich woman?”

  “Not really, but my parents are quite particular about the girls I bring home: the future mother of the grandchildren and all that.”

  She gave him a look of pure disgust. Like he was a rich wimp she’d use to wipe something distasteful off the floor. “You’d have to aim high just in case she runs off with the gardener and the silverware? Right?”

  “True. There’s always that problem.” He reached up in a habitual gesture to swipe back his once long hair, but his fingers found it ruthlessly shorn. “Don’t say that you’ve never met anyone else of like mind to me since you’ve been working for Mary and revolving in these circles.”

  “I revolve on the fringes, Mr. Murphy. I’m well paid for this. I have no illusions.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “I’ve met plenty of men at these parties. They turn out to be jerks mostly. Actually, I wish you all the best in your efforts. You seem harmless. Especially admitting you’re a dud with the ladies. Don’t hurt Mary or her granddaughter in the process.”

  “I’ll try to remember that. Would you like to dance with a dud, Miss Turner?” He couldn’t bear another minute not having the chance to hold her in his arms. “I’m only asking because I see Mrs. Connors’ creepy grandson heading this way.”

  Riley lifted her chin and muttered something under her breath; Rob thought it might have been something about his being the lesser of two evils. She grabbed his arm, quickly slipped off her high heels and pushed them under the table with her toes, then pulled him onto the floor.

  She actually let him take the lead while they danced. Rob remembered a time when he’d had to fight her for it.

  ~ * ~

  “You weren’t very nice to him, were you?” commented Mary in the car later.

  Riley had been staring out the window of the Bentley into the night thinking about him, about how it had felt to dance with Robert Murphy, how his long, leanly muscled body had felt pressed against her own for that all too brief time.

  Even having her hand enveloped in his large one had been a lesson in sensuality.

  Imagine a man that sexy admitting he was looking for a socially suitable wife!

  That fact alone put him way, way out of her league. She was not wifely material for a society male and she well knew it. Well, maybe Robert Murphy would see her fitting his needs for a juicy little affair, but certainly for the long-term--

  Why was her mind even going there? And why did the idea of a go-nowhere affair with a man like him--a sexy, funny, fascinating man--seem almost palatable?

  “I wasn’t rude to him. I just don’t understand why you were so trusting, Mary. Inviting a man you don’t even know to a party?”

  Mary shrugged sparrow-like shoulders inside her silk-lined sable coat. “I thought he was perfectly wonderful. I’m old, Jane, not dead. I enjoy looking at a handsome male as much now as I did when I was a young girl. Maybe more so.”

  Riley smiled. “Okay, I’ll admit Mr. Murphy is a good-looking man.”

  “Therefore, all the more reason not to trust him?”

  “I never said that.”

  “He was very engaging: A good wit. He listens. He drinks beer.”

  Riley laughed. “Beer? So?”

  “That means he’s a man’s man. He’d be good for Belinda, don’t you think? A wealthy not-that-much-older man who could settle her down? Give her some needed direction in her life.”

  “Just like a camp counselor,” Jane muttered sarcastically. “Oh, she’d like that.”

  Mary laughed. “You liked him, didn’t you?”

  Riley squirmed in discomfort. “It has nothing to do with me.”

  “True. But you’ll give me your opinion anyway.”

  “I think Belinda will be just fine finding her own love interests. If you poke your nose into her business too much she’ll just get more rebellious and restless. She’s doing okay for the most part, but she’s still grieving her father’s death. Don’t presume to choose men for her, Mary. That’s terrible.”

  “Her father handled her all wrong. Remember when he made her stop seeing that older man they met in France? Just before his accident. I never did find out who the fellow was, maybe even some friend or business associate of his. Was he French or Italian?” she mused.

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t with you then.”

  “Well, Blake may have been right. He was awfully worried about Belinda for once: so unlike him. He used to get nervous whenever Belinda left the villa, for goodness sake. It was puzzling. I never got to discuss it with him. I feel so guilty now. He wanted my help, I think, but I just told him--wrongly--that he was carrying his stress from work home and bringing me down.”

  Sometimes Mary made a very short reply into a convoluted epic. “I know you suggested Blake take a holiday, Mary, but it wasn’t your fault that he died in that accident.”

  Mary agreed somewhat reluctantly. “I think Blake would have liked this Robert Murphy. Too bad he’s not going to meet him.” Mary sighed, leaning her cheek on her hand. “And to think I used to wish they’d all move away so I’d have the house to myself. I miss Blake even though I used to complain about the trouble he caused me in his forty-eight years. And I find it hard to let go of Todd and Belinda now that their parents are dead. They have to become adults sometime.” She brightened. “There is one thing I will do this month.” She wagged a finger at Riley. “I’m going to lay down the law. Blake was too lenient with those children. Too wrapped up in his own needs. When he finally started
paying some attention it was too late. My fault.”

  Riley sat up a little straighter. Mary was rambling and it was hard to keep up. “What are you going to do?”

  “First things first. I’ll put the kibosh to Todd’s friends and so-called business contacts dropping by unannounced. I can’t believe Belinda took up for that boy the other day when I complained about it. Stuck her nose in where it wasn’t needed. I suppose it means she’s becoming more responsible in her own way.”

  Riley didn’t know about that. “She stands up for him?”

  “Yes. Just the other night. We had an argument about it. She thinks he needs to take responsibility for his own actions and for the company he keeps.”

  Riley bit her lip. “What did you say to her?”

  “I told her that I couldn’t ignore it. There is a time and a place for visiting and people should announce themselves and show up at a decent hour. Don’t you agree?”

  Riley knew Todd sometimes received visitors, even late in the night, but she hadn’t before heard Mary grumble or comment on it. Riley had heard them in Todd’s suite on several occasions when she went to take her nightly swim in the lap pool, but she hadn’t said anything to Mary, assuming that it wasn’t her place to say anything. She was pretty sure Blake hadn’t worried about it in the past and had assumed Mary would feel the same.

  “Unless it’s someone like Robert Murphy. He could ring the bell and park his boots under the bed anytime.”

  Riley sighed deeply.

  “Anyway, that grandson of mine is headed for trouble. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. I don’t like it. All the money and status and privilege he has and it’s all going to waste, I’ve heard he’s not even turning up at the office for work lately. Maybe he is in trouble.”

  Riley said nothing. Having been raised in the midst of it, she was pretty sure that her own idea of trouble and Mary’s were two completely different things. Blake might just be doing something as simple as smoking pot with his buddies or something. She knew he was going to seedy strip clubs. It could be something as obvious as having so-called friends who took advantage of his wealth and stature.

  Or it could be worse. Maybe even cocaine or something.

  Mary sighed wearily. “Something’s changed. Or maybe I’m just noticing things I’ve never let myself see before.”

  “He’s quite young yet.” Riley suppressed a shudder at the thought of what had passed between her and Todd that evening. She didn’t dare mention it now. Was Todd snorting things up his nose? He’d seemed very sweaty, talking fast. “Talk to him when you’ve had some rest. It’s always better that way. Now that the gala’s over and you have time on your hands.”

  “You are the voice of reason, dear. And that’s true about being young, I suppose. Blake was silly at that age. Blake was easily led his whole life. I made many an excuse for his behavior, for his choices. He married an idiot. God rest her soul.”

  Riley laid a gentle hand on Mary’s. “Try not to worry too much, Mary. You don’t want your blood pressure to get too high.”

  Mary snorted. “As if I care about that. Speaking of rising blood pressure, let’s get back to the subject of Robert Murphy. You just can’t believe I got myself a date with a young stud at the ripe old age of seventy-eight. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

  Riley laughed. “Of course I can believe it. You’re still a babe, Mary, and you have one hell of a lot of sex-appeal.”

  Mary hooted. “Oh, that makes me feel better! That’s why I hired you, my girl. What do you think the ladies at the birthday party tomorrow are going to say when I show up with a hot, young stud?” Her eyes lit up in anticipation of the evening to come and for the mere fact that thinking of Rob Murphy could make Mary so animated and happy, Riley was grateful to the man.

  Not trusting, but grateful all the same.

  “They’ll be most impressed, no doubt,” Riley said as they pulled into the massive cobblestone, conifer-lined drive that led to the Connors mansion.

  “Maybe he’ll have to work his charms on you a bit, but I’m sure you’ll come around,” Mary said.

  “Don’t count on it,” Riley replied dryly. “That man is not my type.”

  Mary just looked smug.

  Three

  When Riley’s bus pulled up directly in front of a modest South Vancouver bungalow the next morning, Aggie was waiting on her steps with her plump arms wide open. “Riley, my love! How are you?”

  Aggie Richards, at seventy-one, no longer worked for the provincial ministry as a foster mother, but she had not given up on her kids by any means. She still worked tirelessly downtown helping street kids and she maintained contact with as many of her foster children as she possibly could.

  In Aggie’s arms, Riley felt like she’d just been wrapped in a hand-crocheted blanket. Aggie’s love was like that: warm and all-pervading, like the scent of apple pie on a Sunday afternoon.

  “I know it’s been a while,” Riley said, kissing the older woman’s weathered cheek, “but I’ve been working so much--”

  “Don’t explain. I’m glad you’re doing so well. Come in. I’ve just put on coffee.”

  Aggie led her back down a narrow hall to the kitchen that smelled of Pinesol and fresh coffee. The place had changed little since Riley had lived there, but the kitchen was gleaming new. A few years ago she and Craig had arranged a big work crew of former kids and they had all chipped in for materials and worked like maniacs to give Aggie a beautiful new kitchen. Last time they were at Aggie’s together Craig had mentioned that the back balcony was rotting away. Apparently it was time to put together a new work crew to fix that as well.

  Riley held up a small bakery box. “I brought your favorite Italian pastries from Commercial Drive

  ,” Riley said.

  Aggie gave a small frown. “I’m supposed to lay off that stuff, according to my doctor, but just let him stop me having one. Sit down, love. Tell me what’s been going on with this job of yours.”

  Half an hour later Riley had finished her first cup of strong coffee and was licking the last delicious vestiges of double cream, almond and puff pastry from her fingers. “Delicious.”

  “Eat another. You can’t be thinking of leaving them all for me!”

  “I can’t eat another. I ate two. Can you imagine the calories and fat I’ve consumed already? Craig will be here later. I’m sure he could do serious damage to that box.”

  “You could use some fat grams. You’ve gotten thinner. Don’t those rich people eat steaks every day?”

  Riley laughed. “No. They have a chef who prepares superbly balanced meals. Cuisine,” she said, emphasizing the last syllable. “I can use the gym equipment and the indoor lap pool whenever I like. I’m not thin, just in really good shape now.”

  “An indoor lap pool. Imagine that,” Aggie said.

  “The house is huge. I used to get lost in it. It’s good exercise trying to make my way from one end of the house to the other. But on my days off I always go for a big, juicy hamburger and fries.”

  “And I know where,” said Aggie with twinkling brown eyes.

  “White Spot Drive-In. You still can’t beat it in my books.”

  “So, my girl,” said Aggie, rising from her chair with a slowness that Riley had not previously noticed. The old woman seemed stiff, wincing a little, but Riley knew better than to point it out because Aggie would just deny that she was having any difficulty. “When are you going on holiday? You’ve been working well over a year without a break.”

  “I’ve been to Europe with Mary. That felt like a holiday.”

  “You do need some time to yourself. One half-day off a week doesn’t give you much time to pursue your own needs.”

  “I have plenty of time for my own needs. They’re few, believe me. I don’t even think of working for Mary as a job. Not to say that she doesn’t make me work hard. The secretarial duties are huge, what with the charities she belongs to.”

  “That’s what I mean.”

/>   Riley ran a hand over her light taffy-brown hair, pulled tightly back from her face in a ponytail. She didn’t even have to leave the Connors mansion to get haircuts. Mary’s stylist did it for her in Mary’s ‘beauty’ room. She feared that the style was starting to look a bit old-ladyish. Next thing she knew she’d be getting a purple rinse.

  “I will take a holiday soon. I promise. I’m waiting on some information because I hoped to kill two birds with one stone.”

  Aggie stared at her, hand crooked on her hip. “You’re not still looking for Grace, are you? Haven’t you decided to start concentrating on your own future, starting your own family?”

  “I do think about my future.” A family? That was a bit of a stretch. What did she know about families?

  “And how did that Internet search pan out?”

  “It didn’t. Grace would have to have logged onto those sites looking for me. She hasn’t bothered to do something like that, I guess.”

  “Did you contact the company from the U.S. that does searches? I remember you talking about it.”

  “I’ve tried a few of them. It cost me a lot of money.”

  Aggie shook her head. “Well, dear, maybe it’s time you gave up.”

  Riley sighed. “I’m thinking about it. Craig was ragging on me about it, too.”

  Aggie returned to the table and put her arm around Riley’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t say anything, dear. Try to find her if you need to, but after all these years I know how it feels to look for people who don’t want to be found. Or can’t be found because--” She broke off with a sigh.

  “Have you tried to find someone, Aggie? One of the kids that had to leave?”

  “Of course I have. There have been some kids who stayed here--even for a very short time--that I just can’t forget.”

  Their eyes met and held and Riley knew immediately that she was thinking of Robbie. The enigmatic Robin Butler had apparently had this way of making people love him, care about him, almost against their better judgment. In the small amount of time she’d known him, he’d held her in thrall as well.