Lisa Jackson's the Abandoned Box Set

by Lisa Jackson

  “To Montgomery Inns.”

  “Well, that’s something. The years he’s worked for me—”

  “If longevity with Montgomery Inns has anything to do with my future husband, then I should marry Fred Ainger.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” her father scoffed, leaving his glass on a table near the door, but Marnie could tell her comment had hit its mark. Fred Ainger, a tiny bespectacled accountant in bookkeeping, was about to retire at age sixty-five. He’d been with Montgomery Inns since Victor had purchased his first hotel.

  “Okay, okay. We both know that Kent’s time with the company doesn’t really matter when you’re choosing a husband,” her father reluctantly agreed, smoothing his hair with the flat of his hand. He looked out the window to the city of Port Stanton flanking the banks of the sound. Smaller than Seattle, Tacoma or Olympia, Port Stanton, as gateway to the sound, was growing by leaps and bounds, and Montgomery Inns was ready and waiting with the Puget West as the city required more hotels for businessmen and travelers. “But Kent is loyal to the company.”

  Bully for Kent, she thought, but held her tongue on that point. “I’d rather have a husband who’s committed to me.”

  “For what it’s worth, I believe Kent is committed to you, honey.”

  Marnie knew differently. She also realized that she was going to have to tell her father why she was so adamant about rejecting Kent, or her father would badger her forever. In Victor’s eyes, Kent was the perfect son-in-law. “I didn’t love him, Dad.” That much wasn’t a lie, though she’d convinced herself during the duration of their engagement that she had. “Kent wasn’t the man for me. He was your choice, not mine.”

  For a few seconds Victor didn’t speak, and Marnie could almost hear the gears whirling in his mind. Her father didn’t back down quickly.

  He made a big show of glancing at his watch and pursing his lips. “Come on,” he said, his keen eyes glinting. “Let’s go downstairs. We can talk about Kent later.”

  Marnie shook her head. “You can talk about him later. I’m done.”

  Victor held up a hand to forestall any further arguments. “Whatever you say. It’s your life.”

  Marnie wasn’t fooled, and cast him a glance that told him so.

  Victor held open the door for her, and Marnie stepped onto the balcony. The sounds of the party drifted up the four flights from the lobby. Even from this distance she recognized a few employees of the hotel chain, dancing or laughing with guests who had been sent special invitations, the chosen few who mattered in the Northwest—the mayor of Seattle and Senator Mann, several city council members as well as reporters for local television and newspapers. There were only a few faces Marnie didn’t recognize.

  All of Seattle’s social elite had come to Puget West, drinking and laughing and showing off their most expensive gowns and jewelry, hoping that their names and pictures might find a way into the society columns of the Seattle Observer and the Port Stanton Herald.

  Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Marnie stepped into the glass elevator, her father at her side. As the car descended, she stared through the windows, noticing the lights in the trees in the lobby, the ice sculpture of King Neptune and the three-tiered fountain of champagne wedged between tables laden with hors d’oeuvres. A pianist was playing from a polished ebony piano where a man listened, a handsome man, she guessed from the back of him. She noticed the wide breadth of his shoulders, the narrowing of his hips, the way his wavy black hair gleamed under a thousand winking lights.

  There was something familiar about him, something about his stance, that brought back hazy memories. He turned to reach for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and as the elevator doors opened, Marnie found herself staring across the room. A pair of mocking, gold-brown eyes met hers, and she nearly missed a step.

  Adam Drake!

  What in God’s name was he doing here? Didn’t the man have a sense of decency, or at the very least, an ounce of self-preservation? Her father would love to have a chance to throw him out of the hotel! Even though he’d been proved innocent of the charges Victor had leveled against him, Adam Drake was definitely on her father’s ten-least-wanted list.

  Adam didn’t seem concerned. A slow, self-mocking smile stretched across his jaw as his gaze collided with hers. He winked lazily at her, then took a long swallow from his champagne.

  Marnie almost grinned. She’d forgotten about his irreverence, his lack of concern for playing by society’s unwritten laws. Well, he’d really done himself in this time. Though she’d never really believed that he was a thief, there was a side to him that suggested danger, and she wondered just how much he knew about the half million dollars skimmed from the funds to build this very hotel. The guy had nerve, she’d grant him that!

  Amused, she turned to see if her father had noticed their uninvited guest, but a crowd of well-wishers suddenly engulfed them. Victor tugged on Marnie’s arm, pulling her along as he wended his way to the circular fountain and stepped onto the marble base, hauling her up with him. Newspaper reporters followed, elbowing and jostling to thrust microphones into Victor’s face. Cameras flashed before her eyes as photographers clicked off dozens of pictures.

  Victor laughed and answered each question crisply. Her father was always at his best in front of a crowd, but Marnie was uncomfortable in the spotlight. She tried to slip away unnoticed. However, Senator Mann, always hungry for press, fought his way through the throng to stand at her father’s side, blocking Marnie’s exit. Even Kent appeared. Predictably, he wended quickly through the tightening group to take his place next to her. She was trapped!

  Gazing up at Kent’s even, practiced smile, Marnie decided this wasn’t the time to bring up the fact that Adam Drake had somehow turned up uninvited.

  “Hi,” Kent whispered, flashing a thousand-watt grin at her, though Marnie suspected the smile was for the press. He tried to slide his arm around her waist.

  Marnie sidestepped him and somehow managed to keep her balance. “Don’t,” she warned.

  “Come on, Marnie,” he cajoled. “Just try to be reasonable—at least for appearances’ sake.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Kent! Congratulations!” Mayor Winthrop’s voice boomed as he approached and stretched out his hand. He was short and round, his straight gray hair painstakingly combed to cover a bald spot. “Beautiful hotel, Marnie, just beautiful!” he gushed, before turning all his attention on Victor and Kent.

  Marnie managed a thin smile for the man, then, before Kent realized what she was doing, excused herself quickly and stepped into the sea of guests.

  Enough with the spectacle, she thought, moving quickly away from the fountain. She had promised her father she’d show up at his party, but she wasn’t going to pretend to care about Kent. How could she have ever made the mistake of thinking she loved him? Or that he had loved her? She must’ve been desperate.

  Unconsciously, she glanced back to the piano, but Adam had disappeared and the pianist, taking his cue from Victor, had stopped playing so that the mayor and other city dignitaries could publicly congratulate Victor Montgomery on another glamorous project well done.

  Marnie felt little of the pride she’d experienced at the completion of other hotels. Puget West had been different from the beginning. There had been problems and delays with acquisition, zoning, planning, architecture and then, of course, the scandal. At first Adam Drake, Victor’s personal choice to supervise the project, had smoothed out the bumps, but later, when Kate Delany had discovered the errors in the books, all hell had broken loose and her father had blamed Adam for the mismanaged money.

  The money had never been located. Over five hundred thousand dollars had seemed to vanish into thin air. Marnie had never believed Adam to be a thief, but no one had been able to explain what had happened to the missing funds.

  Adam had never been indicted, but the public humiliation had been tremendous, the scandal reported daily in the business section of the Seattle Obser
ver. And now he was here? Why?

  Scanning the waves of people, she found Adam again. With one shoulder propped against a marble pillar, the jacket of his tux open, his tie loosened, his black hair wind-tossed, he looked rakish and self-satisfied. A small smile played on his thin, sensual lips. His eyes, dark above chiseled cheekbones, were trained on the fountain where Victor stood.

  It was strange that he’d decided to come, but fitting, in a way. Adam Drake, before his downfall, had been invaluable to the company, one of the few in Victor’s small circle of advisers. Adam had been the man who had found this very piece of land on the western shore of the sound and had negotiated a very good deal for Montgomery Inns. Without Adam Drake, Puget West never would have been built.

  Marnie wondered why he had risked having his reputation blackened again. The man must be certifiable.

  With difficulty, she forced her gaze away from him. Unfortunately she discovered Dolores Tate, Kent’s secretary, lingering near the open bar, her wide brown eyes focused lovingly on Kent.

  Marnie thought she might be sick.

  Dolores didn’t notice her; she was too involved with the scene at the fountain and her own appearance. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to the springy brown curls that framed her Kewpie-doll face. Draped in a dress of gold sequins and chiffon, Dolores moved gracefully among the people near the fountain, smiling and stopping to talk with this group and that, seeming more a part of this party than Marnie felt herself.

  Dolores probably was more at home here, Marnie thought as she tore her gaze away from the woman Kent had chosen as his mistress. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel any surge of jealousy, just an annoying embarrassment that she could have been duped by Kent.

  Rather than dwell on Kent, Marnie half listened to her father’s prepared speech. Victor, public smile in place, was heartily thanking the community leaders for the privilege of building this “…dream-come-true on the banks of the sound for our fair community…”

  On and on he went, interrupted occasionally by bursts of clapping or laughter as he related some funny anecdotes about the construction of the hotel. Marnie had heard similar speeches dozens of times before. For her father’s sake, she hoped she appeared interested, though she couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering across the expansive foyer to the pillar against which Adam leaned.

  Marnie could almost feel Adam’s hostility sizzling across the room. But Victor went blithely on, unaware that the man he was sure had tried to cheat him was present.

  Kate Delany, too, didn’t seem to notice Adam as she found Marnie and joined her. “Your father’s pleased,” Kate whispered into Marnie’s ear.

  “He should be,” Marnie answered automatically.

  “Mmm.” Kate nodded. Her auburn hair was piled in loose curls atop her head, her silk dress shimmered as it draped over one shoulder. Emerald earrings, shaped like teardrops, matched the bracelet encircling one slim wrist—gifts from Marnie’s father. The small white lines of disappointment near her lips were barely visible.

  Marnie felt a pang of pity for Kate. She obviously still clung to the hope that she would someday become Mrs. Victor Montgomery.

  As Victor finished, Kate slipped through the crowd toward the fountain. The guests erupted with enthusiastic applause and good wishes while photographers shot rolls of film of her father with the mayor, or senator, or with a dour-faced city councilwoman wearing a simple linen suit and an outrageous magenta hat.

  Marnie slid another glance in Adam’s direction and decided it was time she found out what he was doing here. They were compatriots, in a perverse way, she thought. Neither one of them belonged here. Only Adam had shown up despite the fact that he wasn’t wanted; she, on the other hand, was wanted and would do anything to leave.

  She accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and then slipped through the guests toward the one man who had the guts to defy her father.

  Adam saw her coming. He’d watched as she had disentangled herself from Kent and mingled among the clusters of people. She had been smiling at her father’s jokes but not really listening. It was almost as if she were playing a part, putting in her time, and she’d cast more than one curious glance in his direction. Good.

  She was beautiful, he had to admit that. Her wavy hair was pale blond, almost silver, her eyes were an intense shade of blue and even though she was often serious, Adam remembered that she laughed easily.

  But she wasn’t laughing tonight. No, Miss Montgomery appeared uncomfortable with all the hoopla, though she was dressed for the occasion in a silky dress that must have cost a fortune and in diamonds that sparkled around her wrist and neck. No one would doubt that she was Victor Montgomery’s spoiled daughter.

  He found it interesting that when she’d first spotted him she hadn’t run to Daddy to tell him that a traitor was in their midst. Instead, she’d appeared mildly curious and now she was walking toward him.

  The ghost of a smile crossed her full lips and her eyes twinkled for just a second. “Mr. Drake,” she said, stopping just short of him.

  “It’s Adam, remember?”

  “Impossible to forget,” she replied, showing off a dimple. “Your name will probably be whispered in the corridors of Montgomery Inns for years. You’re a legend, you know.”

  “As part of the poor and infamous?”

  She plucked a shrimp canapé from a tray. “What’re you doing here? Don’t you know you’ll be drawn and quartered before the night is out? That’s what they do to party crashers.” She plopped the canape into her mouth and washed it down with a sip of champagne.

  He couldn’t believe that she was actually baiting him. Adam’s mouth slashed at a sardonic angle. “And here I thought my invitation had just gotten lost in the mail.”

  “Right,” Marnie replied dryly, her ice blue dress glimmering seductively under the lights. “If I were you, this is the last place I would’ve shown up.”

  “Never was one to miss a party.”

  “You must be a glutton for punishment. My father will flip when he finds out you’re here—and he will, you know. It won’t take long.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “Why?” For the first time, the teasing glint disappeared from her eyes. She lifted her glass to her lips and appraised him solemnly over the rim.

  “He and I need to talk, and he’s been dodging my calls.” Adam glanced back to the fountain-cum-podium where Victor was introducing Kent Simms and congratulating him on his promotion to executive vice president. Adam finished his drink in one gulp, as Simms accepted Victor’s hearty congratulations, shook hands with the mayor and rained a brilliant pretty-boy smile on the crowd.

  “You’ve called Dad?” Marnie asked, apparently stunned.

  Adam swung his gaze back to her. “Several times. Never got past Kate. Victor didn’t bother to call me back.”

  “But—”

  “I even stopped in at the offices. Kate ran interference. Wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

  Marnie couldn’t believe it. Her father hadn’t said a word about Adam trying to contact him, and she would have thought, given Victor’s feelings about Adam Drake, he would have ranted and raved for days at the younger man’s impertinence. “What did you want to talk to him about?”

  “Believe me, I have a lot to discuss with your father—or if I can’t talk to him, Simms’ll do.” He cocked his head toward the fountain. “By the way, your fiancé seems to be enjoying himself. Shouldn’t you be up there, basking in some of the glory?”

  “It got a little crowded,” she said, her lips tightening.

  “I noticed.”

  “Adam Drake?” Kate’s voice was low and cold. When he turned, her large eyes were suspicious, the color in her cheeks high. “What do you think you’re doing here?” she whispered, then before he could answer, asked, “How did you get past security?”

  “I helped design this building, remember—including the security system.”

  “You bastard,” she shot back, ignorin
g Marnie. “You want to ruin it for him, don’t you? This is Victor’s night, and you’re going to make sure that it blows up in his face!”

  “I just want to talk to him.”

  “Well, you can’t. Not tonight,” she said, her features hardening. “If the press gets wind that you’re here, it’ll ruin everything! You’ve got to leave! Now!” Her voice had taken on a frantic tone that seemed to surprise Marnie as she watched the exchange in stunned silence.

  “I’m not taking off just yet.”

  “But why would you want to stay? It’ll just cause problems.” Kate glanced nervously toward Victor.

  Marnie laid a hand on her arm. “Relax, Kate,” Marnie said, as if she, too, were trying to avoid a scene, but Kate raged on.

  “Please, Adam, just go quietly, before you do something that can’t be undone and everything’s dredged up again. This is Victor’s night. Please don’t spoil it!”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “But not here—”

  “I tried the office,” he replied, fighting to control his anger. “You wouldn’t let me see him.”

  “My mistake. Come back next week, I’ll get you an appointment,” she promised, pinning a winning smile on her face and slipping her arm through his, obviously intending to escort him to the door.

  “I’ll wait, just the same.”

  Frustrated, Kate stormed away in a cloud of exasperation.

  “I don’t think that’s the way to win friends and influence people,” Marnie said dryly.

  “I’m not very popular around here, am I?”

  She grinned. “I’m afraid you’re persona non grata at Montgomery Inns. But my father still keeps your picture in his office—taped over his dart board.”

  He laughed, surprised that she would joke with him. The pianist began playing again, filling the lobby with a vaguely familiar big-band hit of the forties.

  “Do you want me to tell my father you’re here?” she asked, and he shook his head.

  “I think it would be better if you stay out of it.”

  “Why?”

  “It could get bloody.”