Trouble Restored

by Carolyn Haines

  Tommie lifted her shoulders in an apologetic shrug.

  He let his gaze drop to where the cat sat quietly studying him. “I’m happy to help, but as annoyed as I am by this mess, there’s something more important. We have to find out how the intruder is getting in and out of the house. Is it possible there’s an exit I don’t know about? We were right near the back entrance while we unloaded the wood. We could have seen someone slipping in through the back entrance or the patio entrance. And the front was locked, right?”

  “Yes. The house was locked tight when I went down to the cottage to talk to you. I know people who live in the country don’t always lock doors, but I spent too much time in San Francisco to be careless about something like that. I’m positive all of the doors were locked.”

  “I believe you. But if the person isn’t going out through the front door or the back doors, how is he moving around the house so freely?” He knew the answer that was on Tommie’s mind. He could see it, the fear and anxiety. Ghosts. That was the only answer that seemed possible—yet he was nowhere near ready to believe all the old creepy tales about Loftus Manor were real. Samuel had delighted in telling them—and, Harley had no doubt, making them up. But Harley wasn’t a man who bought into unhappy spirits walking the halls.

  Tommie took a deep breath. “There’s a back entrance to the second floor through the servants’ quarters but it’s locked with a key and a dead bolt on the inside.”

  “Let me check the windows.” Harley put action to his words.

  He hadn’t said anything to Tommie, but he was concerned for her. Someone was messing with her—or worse. He didn’t know if it was an attempt to frighten her or something more sinister. His thoughts immediately turned to Paul Rider, the developer. The man had been relentless in his pursuit of buying Loftus Manor and the surrounding acreage. No matter how many times Samuel had told him no, he kept coming back with offers. He’d been pushy and aggressive, and Harley wouldn’t put it past the man to try to frighten Tommie into selling, though how he could manage a disappearing act was beyond Harley.

  He didn’t have a much better opinion of Britt Gordon, the lawyer who’d handled Samuel’s affairs. There was a long family connection between the Gordons and the Loftuses, but since Harley wasn’t blood kin, he had a completely different take on the lawyer. One word summed it up: shyster. Harley didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him.

  He made his way around the entire first floor, finding all of the windows locked. So how was this mysterious intruder gaining access to and then exiting the house?

  He realized the black cat was trailing after him, watching him as if he knew exactly what Harley was up to.

  “Meow.” The cat sat at his feet and looked up.

  “Kitty, kitty.” Harley bent down to stroke the sleek black fur. The animal was healthy and fit, and there was something about him that made Harley think he was above average in intelligence. When he finished his rounds, he picked up the cat and carried him to Tommie in the morning room where she offered him a drink. “Maybe you should get a watch dog.” His suggestion was light-hearted, but he meant it.

  Trouble jumped to the floor and Harley watched as the cat sauntered out of the room and disappeared in the hallway.

  “Maybe when I’m settled I will. I’d actually love a dog, but for right now, Trouble is what I have. Tammy Lynn swears by him.” She sipped the whiskey.

  “I’ve never heard of a mystery-solving cat, but I’m not going to dispute the possibility.” There was something about the cat that made Harley hesitate to mock him.

  “Meow!” The cry came from the direction of the stairs.

  Harley poked his head out of the little sitting room where Tommie had settled into a cozy club chair in front of the fire that blazed merrily. “You stay put. I’ll see what Trouble wants.”

  “Probably food. Tammy said he’s really finicky. Something of a gourmand.” She smiled and Harley felt that at last she was loosening up around him, giving him a chance to be a friend. “She brought a container of food for him almost as if she knew he was going to stay with me.”

  Trouble meowed loudly again, and then hissed, a sound that echoed in the big old house.

  “I’ll be right back,” Harley said.

  But the sound of Trouble’s hissing had Tommie out of her chair and following after Harley in search of the cat.

  The knock that came at the front door startled them both.

  “Expecting company?” Harley asked her.

  “No.” She stepped forward to accompany Harley to the door where Trouble waited, his back arched. “Whoever it is, Trouble doesn’t like them.”

  “Something to keep in mind,” Harley said as he stepped to the side so Tommie could answer the door.

  * * *

  The woman standing on the front porch was so unexpected that Tommie simply stared at her. She was blond and perfectly made up and dressed like a big city businesswoman. She even carried a small briefcase.

  “May I come in?” the woman asked, not bothering to hide her curiosity about the house. She peeked around Tommie and Harley. When she saw the cat, a flicker of disgust crossed her features.

  “Who are you?” Harley finally asked the pertinent question.

  “Odell Rains.”

  The name meant nothing to Tommie, and she shrugged when Harley looked at her. “How can we help you, Ms. Rains?”

  “You can give me my share of the inheritance. Samuel was my father.”

  Tommie’s reaction was classic shock—she was momentarily stunned. She stepped back a half step and simply stared at the woman. Harley eased closer to her. When she didn’t speak, he did. “Samuel and Rachel never had children.” Tommie realized he was far better versed in Loftus family affairs than she was.

  “That’s your opinion, and your opinion doesn’t concern me,” the woman said. “My mother is Lucinda Rains. I’m Samuel’s bastard child.” Her smile was neither warm nor friendly. “I’m here to collect what’s mine.”

  * * *

  The only thing we need now is some dramatic music and the director to shout, “Cut! Print that.” Cruella de Vil has entered the building and she’s going to kill every single puppy to get that coat she wants.

  This woman is physically quite attractive, but I smell menace all over her. She’s come to cause trouble for the Loftus Lass, and she means to do it. The legal front will be her first attack. After that, I wouldn’t put anything past her. Not even hiring someone to break into Loftus Manor in an attempt to drive Tommie out. And how strange that she appears just after we hear something in the house and find a room ransacked. This woman is bad news.

  Let me see what I can deduce about her. My father, Familiar the black cat detective, and Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes always tout deduction. Rational thought and deduction. It’s in the details that others fail to observe that we find our answers.

  She is very poised and calm, coming to lay claim to something that isn’t hers. Either she truly believes she’s within her rights or she’s as cold and calculating as they come. I don’t care for her. Whoever she is, she has been left out of Samuel’s will—and perhaps there’s a good reason for it. I hope Mr. Brawny Man can shed some light on this. Did Samuel ever mention a daughter, and if he had a daughter, why didn’t he leave Loftus House to her instead of to a niece far removed from him? Someone he’d never even met. And why has no one mentioned a daughter?

  Looking her over, I catch a whiff of familiar cologne. Something expensive and popular among a certain type of woman. It’s a scent that says she’s one of those who love the finer things in life. I need to refine my olfactory sense when it comes to perfumes and colognes. They all stink the same to me. As a cat, I prefer au naturale. The human odor, if clean and well maintained, is quite pleasant to a cat. Then again, we adore sardines.

  Her clothing is expensive. She’s wearing a Rolex watch in a time when many have given up watches all together for the cell phone or smart watch. If she is a wrong side
of the blanket baby, she’s done well for herself. Not what one would expect from a shady chap.

  But enough observation. It’s time for some action. The Loftus Lass steps back and allows her to enter, though I hiss a warning at her. This woman reminds me of a black mamba snake. Once she’s in, will we ever get her back out? She’s certainly taking an inventory as she walks around the foyer.

  I’m glad to see that Brawny Man is staying. Judging from the set of his chin, I don’t think wild horses could drag him away from here now. I do believe he’s feeling protective of Tommie. Now isn’t that an interesting turn of events. I’m not sure I trust him completely, yet, but I trust him a lot more than the alleged bastard daughter who conveniently shows up the first day Tommie steps foot on the property. Whew, what a day this has been and it’s far from over.

  * * *

  Harley saw the expression of compassion in Tommie’s eyes, and his red alarm bells began to ring. One look at the woman who presented herself as Odell Rains and he could clearly see she had the face of a practiced con-woman. She was expertly made up and dressed to the nines. Expensively turned out, projecting wealth and security. All very calculated as far as he could tell.

  He stepped in front of the intruder. “Ms. Rains, is it?”

  Her smile never touched her eyes. “That’s correct. Samuel’s daughter from his illicit union. I’m a love child.” She said it with venom. “I’m a Loftus but I go by Odell Rains.”

  “Forgive me, but Samuel never mentioned you.”

  “I’m not surprised. I’m sure he worked hard to forget me and my mother. Cheaters often try to run away from their past.”

  Harley felt his temper climb, but he kept a tight grip on it. “Samuel and I were very close. He would have mentioned a child, illegitimate or not.”

  “He wanted nothing to do with me or my mother. He would have been happy if we’d both died.”

  “That’s not the man I knew that you’re talking about.” Harley stuck to his guns. He’d cared for Samuel and he wouldn’t hear his friend talked about in that way. “Samuel was a kind man. He didn’t run from life or anyone. How do we know you’re who you claim to be?”

  “Look,” Odell raised the briefcase in her hand. “I have my birth certificate and pertinent documents in here. I’ll take a DNA test. I only want what’s mine, a portion of the Loftus estate.” She waved a hand around the house. “This is a pretty swanky place. I’m sure there’s some cash for the unwanted offspring. Enough to move me a long way down the road from here.”

  “If you had a claim to the estate, why didn’t you show up at the reading of the will?” Harley asked her. He was watching Tommie out of the corner of his eye and he was growing more and more concerned. She looked like she was going to cry—or cave. Neither reaction would be helpful in this situation. She had to stand firm for her rights as owner of the manor or this woman would push her way in.

  Odell looked at him. “Who are you? I don’t think my business is with you. You should probably leave.”

  That was finally the spark that sent Trouble into an arched-back hiss.

  “And take that cat with you. My father has some valuable furniture here. It’s no place for a cat.” She looked around the front parlor where Tommie had removed the heavy, protective sheets. “That sofa is worth at least ten grand. And those end tables at least five thousand each.” Odell gave that tight, mean smile again. “I’m a furniture appraiser. I’ll be able to calculate the value of things almost to the dollar. I only want my share.”

  “And what share would that be?” Tommie asked. “You weren’t mentioned in Samuel’s will. His attorney never mentioned any other living relatives. If Samuel even knew you existed, he chose not to leave you any part of his estate.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” she said. “Now may I tour the house?” She reached into her briefcase and brought out a pad and pen. “I want to document what’s here before you have a chance to sell any of it off.”

  “Aside from the fact that your accusation is insulting, you have no right to do anything in this house. I’m the legal owner,” Tommie said. “Now I’d like you to leave.”

  Odell jammed the legal pad back into her briefcase. “I was hoping we could accomplish this without animosity. But that’s your choice.”

  Harley clenched his fists. He had plenty to say, but this was Tommie’s fight. It would be best if he let her fight it. Odell, whoever she was, seemed like the kind of person who would give her trouble. Serious trouble. It was best Tommie learned to hold her own.

  “My choice is for you to leave.” Tommie motioned to the door. “Don’t come back. Loftus Manor belongs to me.” She stood tall to her full height. “I don’t know if your claim of kinship is legitimate or not, but I do know that Samuel tracked me down. He found me to name me as his heir and he left this house to me. If he knew about you and wanted to find you, he would have. Now go.” She pointed to the door again.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow with the law,” Odell promised.

  “You do that,” Harley said. “Everyone in Wetumpka knows every detail of Samuel’s will. That’s the kind of town it is. Folks take an interest in each other. And everyone knows Samuel was childless. I’m sure the legal system will take all of that into account.”

  Chapter Seven

  Harley realized Tommie was shaking after he closed the door on Odell Rains. Whether Odell was a Loftus or not, a simple swab would tell. But if her DNA revealed she was Samuel’s child, her claim to part of Tommie’s inheritance wouldn’t be that easy to prove or disprove. Even if a court upheld the will and Tommie was declared to be the sole and rightful heir, it would still require lawyers and a trial. Looking at Tommie’s haunted eyes, he felt certain she’d come to the same conclusion. And Tommie didn’t strike him as a person with a lot of cash and time to fund an expensive, and probably lengthy, lawsuit.

  “Come and sit down,” Harley said as he took Tommie’s elbow. “Let’s go back to the morning room.” He steered her down the hallway with the black cat at her side.

  Tommie stopped dead still and turned to Harley. “Please tell me the truth. Did Samuel have an illegitimate child? He talked to you more than anyone. Did he indicate this might happen?” Tommie’s hazel eyes were too wide, too stressed.

  “He never mentioned a child or an illicit romance. He was devoted to Rachel, even years after her death. He talked about her as if she’d stepped into the next room. As far as I know, he never dated another woman after her death. I can’t imagine he would have cheated on her, and judging by Ms. Rains’s appearance, I’d say she’s old enough that Rachel was still alive when she was conceived.”

  “Sometimes people make mistakes.” Tommie pushed her hair behind her ear, a gesture Harley was coming to realize indicated nervousness or worry.

  He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure it would be appreciated. And he didn’t understand the impulse. He didn’t get involved in people’s lives. He’d learned not to the hard way. “Look, Samuel was the most deliberate man I’ve ever known. If he’d had an affair with a woman, it would have been because he had great feelings for her. And if that were the case, he wouldn’t have slunk off into the night leaving her alone and pregnant. He wouldn’t have.”

  “I don’t know. If she is a rightful heir, I don’t want to take something that should be hers.”

  Harley sighed. “Don’t put the horse before the cart, Tommie. Let’s see what proof she has and take it one step at a time.” He cleared his throat. “My concern is that she isn’t a legitimate heir but is up to some mischief. Someone is messing around in the manor. I don’t know how they’re doing it, but as soon as possible I want to check around more. Whoever is behind it, I worry they’re either trying to scare you or they’re desperate to find something.”

  “Find what?” Tommie asked.

  “I don’t know. Something they think Samuel had. Something they believe was hidden in the house. There were stories of jewels and riches from the 1800s hidden in the house, stori
es of Loftuses involved in gambling and land speculation, that a fortune was made before the stock market crash of 1929 and the money tucked away. Samuel laughed about all of those stories, but people are gullible fools. Someone could have the foolish idea that great wealth is here and now is the time to find it—before you do.”

  “And you think one of those fortune seekers could be this woman, Odell Rains?”

  “I think it’s possible.”

  “I should call Uncle Samuel’s lawyer.”

  Harley didn’t want to discourage her, but he didn’t have a lot of faith that Britt Gordon wasn’t involved. “Wait until tomorrow. That’s plenty of time to decide your next move. Let’s get some sleep and look at it fresh in the morning.”

  “I’m so sorry to involve you in this.” She lifted her chin. “I want to do the right thing, but I don’t want to be intimidated. Or played for a fool. I never expected this inheritance, and if it rightfully belongs to someone else, I’ll leave. But if it’s mine. Truly mine.” Her mouth set. “I’m going to fight.”

  Harley felt relief. “That’s the attitude.” He checked the time. It was closing in on midnight. “I should go back to the cottage. Are you afraid to stay here alone? I’ve checked the house. There’s no one here and all the doors and windows are locked.”

  “I can’t be afraid. If I start being afraid, I’ll never be able to stop.” The cat rubbed against her legs and then reached up with both paws, asking to be picked up. She cradled him in her arms. “I have Trouble here. He’ll keep me company.”

  Harley grinned. “Something tells me that cat can be a rough customer when he chooses. I can stay, though, if you want me to.”

  “You’ve done enough. You really have.”

  He didn’t want to push into her personal space or presume to take on a role that wasn’t his. And why was he even volunteering to babysit a woman he’d known for less than twelve hours? “Call me if you need me.” He put another log on the fire. He had the idea Tommie would likely spend the night in the morning room rather than upstairs in a bedroom. He almost offered to help her make a place to sleep, but he didn’t. He left by the front door, making sure it locked after him.