by Louise Clark
He should have trusted his gut.
Chapter 5
“Welcome,” Roy said as he opened his front door. “Glad you could make it on such short notice.”
Olivia Waters was standing on the other side and she frowned at him. “Your invitation said this was a ‘family’ barbeque and a way to get to know Tamara.”
She made quote marks with her fingers as she said family and her expression was … not quite hostile, but not friendly either. Roy cocked an eyebrow. If that was the way she wanted to play this, well, so be it.
When Quinn told him that Tamara’s birth mother was Olivia Waters and that both women seemed to be very positive about reconnecting, he’d called up Olivia and invited her to the barbeque. It would be, he reasoned, a non-threatening way for them to get to know each other. Besides, he wanted to know what kind of woman Olivia was. After all, if things didn’t go right, she might one day be Quinn’s mother-in-law and he’d have to deal with her at other ‘family’ events.
Then the dinner happened, Tamara discovered her father was Frederick Jarvis, and everything fell apart. He didn’t like how Jarvis treated Tamara. Hell, he didn’t like Jarvis anyway. He regretted the decision to invite Olivia, but by then it was too late. The offer had been made and she’d accepted.
So if she wanted to be grouchy, it was fine with him. He smiled at her slowly, in a way that he hoped would really irritate her, and said, “My Quinn and Tamara had a relationship before her kidnapping. Now she’s back and I want to get to know her. She wants to get to know you. Seemed like a good fit.”
“All friends together, then,” Olivia said, ungraciously, he thought. She raised her brows when he didn’t step back and tilted her chin in a way that suggested she didn’t have a lot of time for empty social pursuits like friendship.
“You got it.” He ignored her unfathomable hostility—it was Jarvis who’d been smarmy to Tamara, not the other way around—and gave her a big grin, designed to annoy. “So why don’t we give it a try? The party’s out back. Down the stairs and through Quinn’s office.”
Olivia looked around as they descended to the ground floor of the townhouse. “Nice space,” she said in an offhand way. Then she added, in the same tone, “You’re Roy Armstrong, the author, aren’t you?”
Roy glanced at her. “I thought you didn’t realize.”
Olivia frowned. “Why wouldn’t I? The press loves you and since this Jamieson affair last fall, your social media profile has shot way up. Your picture is everywhere. I’ve even read one of your books.”
“Magnanimous of you.”
“It was boring. That’s your fault, not mine,” she said, as if she was stating a truth, not an opinion.
Roy took a moment to decide if he was annoyed or amused. By that time they were through Quinn’s office and at the sliding doors to the patio. He flung them open at the same time as he decided he was mainly amused, but also a little stung by her words. He’d take this opportunity to give her a verbal poke, then they’d be even.
Four heads turned toward the doors as they opened. Roy stepped out onto the small concrete pad that held the barbecue, a table with chairs, and a couple of loungers. “Hey, everyone, this is Olivia Waters. She’s Tamara’s mom, birth mom. Olivia, the two guys are Trevor and Rob McCullagh and the ladies are Christy and Ellen Jamieson. The cat is Stormy. Christy’s daughter, Noelle is around somewhere. Or she was when I went to answer the door.”
“She’s off to get Mary Petrofsky,” Christy said.
Why did you invite this old broad? Bad enough you’ve brought this Tamara chick into our circle.
Trevor shot a daggers look at the cat. Sledge raised his eyebrows.
Christy said, “Stop it.” Her voice sounded raw, as if she was having a hard time with her emotions. Roy felt an uneasy guilt, but it was momentary. The players in his son’s romance needed to step up. And if that meant taking a few hits—well, it happened.
Ellen glanced from Christy to Olivia then to the cat. “You will apologize.”
Roy cocked his head and looked down at Stormy. The cat yawned.
There was no apology from Frank, but Olivia said indignantly, “For what? I’ve only just got here and I’ve done nothing.”
Roy said hastily, “Quinn’s picking up Tamara. He should be here any time.”
I’m off then. I’d rather go talk to my daughter.
Ellen colored, pursed her lips, then studiously ignored the cat. Christy smiled at Olivia and said, “Don’t mind us. You unfortunately came in at the end of a conversation.”
Roy offered Olivia a glass of wine, which she sipped while she scrutinized the group. “Which one of you needs to apologize?”
Ellen sucked in her breath, as Christy flushed. Sledge gifted Olivia with his rock-star grin and said, “Guilty!” He shook his head, pretending to be abashed, but looking unrepentant. “I was talking back to my dad. Ellen … ” He winked. “Doesn’t like it.”
Trevor flubbed his cue and looked astonished at this statement. Olivia narrowed her eyes. “There’s something going here. What are you hiding?”
“Should the question be what? Or should it be who?” Roy asked. When Olivia looked at him, he raised his brows and indicated Sledge with a jut of his chin.
Olivia followed his gaze, but there was no enlightenment on her face as she looked at Sledge. “You?”
Roy concluded she wasn’t a rock fan. He grinned at her, feeling mischievous. “We don’t want the neighbors to know he’s here.”
She leveled a disbelieving look at Sledge, then turned back to Roy. “I know about you. You’re a disruptor. You like to shake people up, make them question ordinary things, ask if there isn’t a better way.”
Trevor snorted. “That he does.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Roy asked, pulling another beer from the cooler under the table, then handing it to Sledge.
“If you had any computer skills you’d be a hacker,” Olivia said, as if this explained everything.
Which maybe it did. Olivia was a cyber security expert. She’d think in metaphors relating to computers. Hackers caused problems in the cyber world. He caused problems in the real one. He figured she pretty much had him nailed. No need, then to be annoyed. “Good thing my computer skills are limited. Though it would be nice if I could figure out track changes,” he added wistfully.
Olivia stared at him, her expression incredulous. “Track changes? What are you talking about?”
“My editor uses track changes, but even though I deal with all of the little balloons, my document is never clean after I’m finished. Every time I open afterwards the changes keep coming back.”
“That’s easy enough to fix,” Olivia said.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Show me,” Roy said, galvanized by this information.
“Now?” Olivia sounded aghast.
“Why not?” Roy lifted his glass and made an onwards motion with his arm. “Bring your wine.”
“But … ”
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to the rest, then headed inside. Looking uncertain, Olivia trailed behind.
As their footsteps sounded on the stairs, Sledge stretched out his legs and laughed. “Maybe explaining track changes will make Ms. Waters less grumpy.”
“God bless track changes, then,” Trevor said, and Sledge chuckled.
The strained atmosphere eased. Christy said, “Harry Endicott, the forensic auditor, wants to meet with me about the trust embezzlement. Ellen will be there as well, but I wonder if you would be able to attend, Trevor. I’d like someone with a legal background there, and I value your input.”
Trevor looked surprised and pleased. “Of course. When?”
She was giving him the details when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs, Roy and Olivia apparently having solved the track changes issue. As they were about to come through the sliding glass doors onto the patio, the front door opened. Olivia stepped outside. Roy paused
to shout, “We’re out back, Quinn. Come on through.”
Trevor pulled out his phone to enter the meeting details into his calendar. He was about to put it away when Quinn and Tamara reached the sliding glass doors.
The phone pinged. Trevor stared. “My God,” he muttered.
Christy frowned at him. “Trevor? What’s the matter?”
He looked up, glancing at all of them. His expression was horrified. “Fredrick Jarvis is dead, in what the police are calling suspicious circumstances. It looks like he was murdered.”
“Murdered?” That was Ellen and she sounded shocked. “Are you sure, Trevor?”
Trevor was scanning his phone, frowning as he read the news bulletin. He nodded. “Apparently, it happened earlier this afternoon. The police aren’t giving out any details, but they are admitting his death was not from natural causes.”
Christy heard Ellen and Trevor’s conversation, but her focus wasn’t on the news bulletin, or the death of a politician she didn’t know and had no connection to. She was staring at Quinn and Tamara as they paused in the doorway, immobilized by Trevor’s shocking news. Quinn had his hand on Tamara’s back as if he had been about to introduce her to the group, but now he was bending toward her protectively. The expression on his face was filled with concern and, she thought sadly, affection.
She’d pushed him away and he’d moved on. She’d suspected it was true when she saw Quinn hug Tamara, but until this moment, she hadn’t quite believed it. Accepting Roy’s invitation had been a calculated risk, but Roy and the others had become a family to her over the past year, and she wanted to prove to herself she could be part of Roy’s eclectic band even if she was not with Quinn.
She was so fixated on Quinn and Tamara she didn’t notice Sledge was no longer sitting beside his father until he settled in next to her. She looked at him, surprised, and he flashed his bone-melting rock-star grin and took her hand in his. She looked down at their linked fingers, then back up to his face. The rock-star grin toned down to something softer, kinder. She realized that he understood what she was feeling and had joined her to help her through this initial meeting with Quinn’s former and now new love. A burst of gratitude had her smiling back at him in a silent thank you.
Olivia said, “Frederick is dead? How is this possible?” Her voice rose on ‘dead,’ then cracked with emotion in the next sentence.
Christy looked away from Sledge, now able to join into the conversation. Olivia’s expression was stricken, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. She’d lifted her hand to her throat in a classic gesture of vulnerability. Christy didn’t know her, but she recognized the shock of death, those moments when the mind understood, but couldn’t accept the horror of what had happened. It was a time when a person needed other people to help her through. Olivia was standing near to her. Impulsively, she reached out with her free hand to touch the other woman’s. “Olivia, I am so sorry. We all are. Roy, why don’t you help Olivia over to that chair and let her sit down?”
Roy shot Christy an appreciative glance. His gaze lingered on her hand linked with Sledge’s and sharpened, then he said, “Good idea. Olivia, can I top up your wine?”
The offer of wine seemed to restore Olivia. She shot Roy a bemused look and said, “I’d prefer a shot of rye whisky, straight up, if you have it.” She sat rather heavily on the chair Roy had guided her to.
Initial surprise was replaced by approval in Roy’s expression. “The liquor stash is upstairs,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He disappeared into the house. Quinn said to Tamara, “You should sit beside Olivia.”
His voice pulled everybody’s attention from Olivia to Tamara. Christy thought she should offer her condolences to Tamara too, but there was no evidence that the woman was in any way affected by Frederick Jarvis’s death.
“I won’t say I’m glad he’s dead, but I don’t really care that he is,” Tamara said, looking at Quinn. He was frowning, his concern obvious. Her expression was calm, almost peaceful.
Her comment was too much for Olivia. “How can you say that? He was your father. Without him you wouldn’t be here!”
“He may have been my biological father, but he wasn’t part of my life. In fact, he didn’t want you to have me at all, so it’s you and your decision not to abort me that is the reason I’m here, more than his sperm contribution.”
She said this in an unemotional tone that Christy found quite chilling. She glanced at the others. Ellen’s brows were raised in a disapproving way, while Trevor was frowning. Sledge was frowning too as he swirled his beer bottle around absentmindedly.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed, anger clearly coming to life. She looked about to say something when Roy reappeared with a bottle of rye and a glass. He’d missed the whole conversation, but he must have picked up on the atmosphere, because he shot a frowning glance at the others as he handed Olivia the glass. The liquor sloshed as he poured her a generous serving, the only sound in the silence that had followed Tamara’s remarks.
Olivia lifted the glass to her lips and drank deep, draining it. She held the glass out. Roy refilled it. Quinn got Tamara settled in a chair, the one on the other side of Sledge, and far too close to her, in Christy’s opinion. She fought down resentment as Quinn sat beside Tamara. He could have taken the chair beside Sledge and put Tamara closer to Olivia. Even if they were currently at odds, Olivia was her mother. They needed to deal with this if they were ever to build a working relationship.
Olivia swirled the amber liquid in her glass and glared at her daughter. “That’s a dreadful thing to say!”
Tamara shrugged.
Olivia’s voice was strident as she continued. “Fredrick Jarvis had good values and he was dedicated to making this a better world. No man is perfect—”
“No person,” Roy said.
Olivia turned hostile eyes on him. “I beg your pardon?”
Roy had succeeded in diverting the conversation and a little of the tension eased. He didn’t appear at all put out by the snotty tone in Olivia’s voice because he smiled and said, “It’s more common to use the neutral term for the generic these days. Person reflects both sexes, where man is gender specific.”
Olivia downed the shot of rye. Roy poured her another. “I was being gender specific. In my opinion, men are rarely perfect.”
“You sound as if you still cared for him, Olivia,” Ellen said, helping Roy keep the focus away from Tamara.
Some of the fight went out of Olivia. She shifted her glass back and forth and watched the whisky swirl as the glass moved. “Frederick Jarvis was a complex man. He used people, but somehow he kept them as friends and allies.” She looked up suddenly. “His wife knew about me, that he and I were lovers. I thought she’d be furious. That she’d walk out on him. But she stayed with him. She forgave him. She … she accepted that what he’d done had nothing to do with their relationship.”
Tamara tilted her head to one side. “She might have changed her mind if she knew her kids had a half-sister.”
Christy thought she saw hurt in the depths of Tamara’s eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. Tamara still seemed very calm, shrugging off the death of the man who was her biological father in an almost clinical way, making comments that were more analytical than emotional.
“Perhaps,” Olivia said slowly. “Or she might have accepted you into their lives.” She hesitated then added, “I was never sure I’d done the right thing giving you up. Keeping your existence from Frederick.”
“You did!” Tamara said. The passion in her voice was shocking, coming so suddenly after her previous cool. “I have a great family. I didn’t need his.”
Olivia nodded, but she sighed.
“You sound like you were still in love with Jarvis,” Trevor said to Olivia.
She shook her head. “I wasn’t, but … We were friends. He made opportunities for me. Came to me for advice on cyber security issues. Only last week we talked about a concern he had that his communications were being
hacked. He thought some of his campaign plans were being leaked to his competitors and he wanted to know how to stop it.”
“Is that a fact?” Trevor said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Sounds like his killing may have had a political motive.”
“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that,” Olivia said.
“Not our problem this time,” Christy said lightly. Her wine glass was empty. Sledge let go of her hand so he could refill it. She shot a sideways glance at Quinn to see if he noticed Sledge’s warmth toward her. Quinn’s gaze was fixed on Tamara’s face. Her heart sank.
“Thank heavens!” Ellen said with heartfelt relief. “I have a casual acquaintance with Leticia Jarvis and I believe you know her daughter, Christy. Candis Blais. She was on the parents advisory committee at Noelle’s old school when you were the chair.” Christy nodded as Ellen continued on. “Even though there is a relationship, I see no reason to investigate the man’s death.”
Sledge laughed, but Tamara and Olivia both looked puzzled. In the rush to explain how Christy, Quinn, and the others had investigated three murders, personal talk of Frederick Jarvis faded away. The arrival of Noelle, with Mary Petrofsky and the cat in tow, ensured it didn’t return. Instead, Christy spent the rest of the barbeque flirting with Sledge while Quinn smiled at Tamara.
Chapter 6
“I expect to see a substantial portion of the funds returned to the Trust by the end of summer.”
Christy stared at the broad, beaming face of Harry Endicott. He was a bulky man, with thinning hair, unpretentious and careful. To say she was blindsided by his announcement was putting it mildly. When he’d asked her and Ellen to come to his office for a meeting, she thought he planned to tell them that the Jamieson fortune was gone forever. That the embezzlers had squirreled the money away so efficiently that those searching for it might guess where it had ended up, but would never be able to retrieve it. Now Harry was clearly waiting for a response, and from the look on his face he was expecting praise.
