by Jo Goodman
Jay Mac's voice was hard, his eyes cold. His stare was meant to be intimidating. He wondered that the younger man did not blink. "The Queen's Point project was never developed," he said. "I have requisitions for supplies that were never delivered; payroll receipts for men who never worked a day for Northeast. Tens of thousands of dollars have been spent on lumber, steel, and man hours, and there is nothing in all of Colorado to show for it. You assured me and this board that things were proceeding at the site."
Hollis's broad face was cool and impassive. His dark brown eyes were leveled at Jay Mac. "I take full responsibility for placing confidence in men whom I thought deserved it. I misjudged their character. That, gentlemen, is my crime against Northeast, nothing else. And if you believe I am guilty of masterminding a fraud at Queen's Point, then can't the same case be made for Jay Mac? After all, he placed his trust in me.
"I regret that I was unable to supervise the project's growth—and in this case, its start—but I believe my history with this company speaks for itself. During Jay Mac's absence I acted in all ways as a competent president and leader for Northeast, justifying your confidence. With Jay Mac's return I am quite willing, even anxious, to step down from my post and take up my former position as vice president of operations. I can assure you, my first order of business will be to get to the bottom of the Queen's Point fraud. I will personally lead the investigation, and I will report directly to this board of my progress."
Heads swiveled in Jay Mac's direction. "I already have someone in mind to investigate the fraud," he said. "Someone who doesn't work for the company and generally has no interest in it. I'm afraid, Hollis, that letting you act as overseer of the investigation is akin to letting the fox guard the hen house." Jay Mac ignored the murmurs of surprise that greeted his comment. "You'll understand why I won't tolerate it."
There was the faintest flush to Hollis's face. His reply, however, was smooth. "Not only do I understand it, I applaud it. In your place I would make exactly the same determination." He gestured to Jarret. "Of course, you've named Mr. Sullivan."
"I have."
"A good choice."
It was news to Jarret. He said nothing and merely nodded in the direction of the board members who turned to briefly survey him.
"And Mary Renee will be in charge of the construction at Queen's Point." Board members exchanged wary glances; some cleared their throats at the announcement. The reaction did not give Jay Mac a moment's pause. "I expect the project to get under way this spring. By that time Mr. Sullivan's investigation should be at an end. I will have this matter of culpability cleared, gentlemen, and get on with the business of railroading."
His firm statement of intent was met with agreement. Jay Mac stared levelly at Hollis Banks. "You will, of course, be cooperative with the investigation. You may retain your position as vice president of operations, and should the evidence clear you, I will naturally make a formal apology."
Hollis's smile was cool. His brows lifted fractionally. "The evidence will clear me, and at that time, sir, I'll be asking for more than your formal apology." He rose from the table, nodded to Jay Mac, then the board, and took up his hat and coat. His exit was marred only by the fact that he was forced to step over Jarret's outstretched legs.
* * *
On the journey from the Worth Building to his home, Jay Mac sat in one corner of the carriage, his face set impassively as he stared out the window. He turned suddenly to Jarret and said, "You're going to take the job, aren't you?"
It was no good telling Jay Mac that the question was more than a bit late, that the time for considering it had long since passed. "Yes," Jarret said. "I'll take the job."
Jay Mac nodded once. He turned away again and said quietly, "There's no pleasure in it. I trusted that man."
"I understand."
"The board's on the fence. He tells a believable story. If you can't prove he's behind the fraud, he's going to ask for my resignation."
"I thought that was his threat."
"I founded Northeast. I'm not going to lose it to that bastard."
Jarret said nothing. The carriage pulled up to Jay Mac's palatial first residence. "Do you want me to come inside?" he asked as Jay Mac alighted.
"You can wait in the foyer," he said. "My discussion with Nina is private."
Jarret nodded and followed Jay Mac. Several rooms on the first floor of the mansion were lit. On the second floor, light streamed from French doors that opened onto a stone balcony. They were greeted by a butler whose gaunt face did not show a flicker of surprise at Jay Mac's arrival.
"I want to see my wife," Jay Mac said, handing over his coat and derby. "Mr. Sullivan will wait here. Bring him something to drink, Pinkney, anything he wants."
"As you wish." Mr. Pinkney took Jarret's duster. His lips pursed in disapproval when he saw the gun at Jarret's hip. He started to hold his hand out, thought better of it, and showed Jarret to a padded bench in the entrance hall near the foot of the stairs. "Mrs. Worth is in the study," he told Jay Mac. "May I announce you?"
"That won't be necessary." To Jarret, he said, "This won't take above an hour." He turned back to the butler. "Clear out my wardrobe and chests, Pinkney. Pack it all. Have the trunks taken out to the carriage, and I don't expect Mr. Sullivan to lift a finger in their removal." He strode off in the direction of the study.
"So it's finally come to that," Pinkney said under his breath, watching the study door open and close.
"You've been expecting it?" asked Jarret.
For a moment the butler let down his guard. He sighed. "Every day for better than twenty-five years." Hefting the coats and hats in his hands, Pinkney hung them, and then went to get help for the packing.
* * *
There was no conversation between Jarret and Jay Mac during the journey back to Moira's. The carriage was so full of trunks and baggage that Jarret shared the driver's seat with Mr. Cavanaugh. When they arrived at Broadway and 50th they were greeted at the door with the news that Rennie had disappeared.
Over Jay Mac's head Jarret looked from Moira to Maggie to Skye. Their faces were drawn, their expressions anxious. "How can that be?" he asked. "She was sleeping when I left her."
Maggie shook her head. "I thought she was, too. But that was only pillows covered with blankets. I have no idea what time she left, perhaps while all of us were dining."
"But why—"
Skye looped her arm through her mother's, taking support as much as giving it. "We hoped she'd have met up with you," she said. "Where else would she go but to Papa's meeting? We all thought she meant to confront Hollis."
"She wasn't there," said Jay Mac. He glanced back at Jarret as if hoping there might be some logical explanation.
"Have you sent anyone for the police?" he asked.
Maggie shook her head. "We wanted to make certain she wasn't with you, but Skye and I will go for them now."
"No," Jarret said. "I'll do it. Let me go to her room first and see if there's some indication where she might have gone." He tried to step forward, but no one else moved. He realized they were so stunned by the enormity of Rennie's flight that they couldn't manage the simplest tasks without direction. "Skye, take your mother back to the parlor and see that she has a glass of warm sherry. Jay Mac, ask Mr. Cavanaugh to saddle a horse for me. Maggie, let's go to Rennie's room together. You may notice something that I would miss."
This time the gathering parted. Jarret took the stairs two at a time. Maggie's light step did double-time to match his stride. He threw open the door to Rennie's room and stopped so abruptly on the threshold that Maggie bumped into him.
Apologizing, she looked around his shoulder to see what had brought him up short. Maggie's eyes widened. She blinked hugely. Her mouth parted, but no sound came out.
Rennie was lying on top of the covers, her head propped under one arm. She was snoring softly.
Jarret reached behind him for Maggie and pulled her around, pushing her into the room. "It was a poor j
oke," he said. "And as far as I can see there was nothing to be gained by it."
"It wasn't a joke," she said. "Rennie was gone. I searched for her myself and later Skye helped me."
"You can see for yourself that she's here."
"Of course I can see that." Maggie's expressive mouth pulled to one side as she gave Jarret a look of sheer exasperation. "But as little as twenty minutes ago, she wasn't. Rennie doesn't walk in her sleep."
"I know."
Maggie blinked at that; then she blushed, but she managed not to look away. "Perhaps we should work together to find out what happened," she said. "Instead of arguing."
Jarret nodded. "But first, go tell your parents that she's here and safe." He watched her go. "Spirited little cuss," he said under his breath, approaching the bed. He pushed Rennie's legs to the side as he sat down. He leaned forward, brushing her hair back from her cheek and neck. Her skin was cool. He struck a match and lighted the bedside lamp. Rennie's skin may have been cool, but it was flushed with color, the kind of color that was pressed into the flesh from exposure to the wind or the cold. Rennie's wanderings had taken her outside.
Jarret touched her bare feet. They were no more chilled than her face. He looked around for discarded stockings or shoes. There were none. He checked Rennie's wardrobe and dressing room. There was nothing there.
On his way back to the bed Jarret stopped in front of the French doors. He recalled how easy it had been to scale the balcony, the nearby roof, and drop to the ground. Had it been Rennie's path? Opening the doors, Jarret stepped out. Behind him he heard the approach of Rennie's family.
He stepped back inside. A wet leaf clung to the sole of his boot. He removed it and dropped it on the damp mat of autumn leaves that had never been cleared from the balcony. He had seen enough to know that Rennie had gone that way—and that she hadn't gone on her own.
Rennie was oblivious to the fuss that was being made at her bedside. She didn't stir as her mother took her hand and patted it gently, repeating Rennie's name in her soft Irish brogue.
"She won't answer you," Jarret said. He pushed a chair toward Moira so that she could sit down. "At least not until she's slept off the effects of the chloroform."
"Chloroform!" Maggie leaned over her sister and smelled her breath. "You're right," she said softly, incredulously. "Rennie's been drugged."
Jay Mac took Moira's hand as her knees seemed to buckle under her. He sat on the curved arm of the chair while Moira leaned against him. "Drugged?" he asked.
Skye came around the other side of the bed and climbed in next to Rennie. She jostled her sister's shoulder. "Rennie? If you're playing some trick on us, it's a poor one."
"It's no trick," said Maggie. "Poking at her isn't going to wake her up."
Skye crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back against the headboard. "I was only trying to help."
"I think what would help," Jarret said, "is for everyone to leave. Rennie's fine. When she wakes we'll be able to get some answers perhaps, but I don't have any for you now."
Jay Mac nodded. "You'll stay with her?"
"You couldn't move me if you wanted. I'll let you know as soon as she's awake. If you want to send Mr. Cavanaugh for the doctor..."
"I don't think it's necessary, Papa," Maggie said.
"All right," he said after a long pause. "Moira, come with me. I'm putting you to bed. You've had quite enough for one day."
Moira, assured that her daughter was going to be well and protected, recovered a measure of her grit. "Sure, and there's no need to be coddlin' me. I'm not in my dotage." She stood, taking his hand now, and led him out of the room. "This is Hollis's work," she said as they stepped out of the room. "He's a cocky bastard. Rennie's church annulment can't happen soon enough to suit me."
Skye and Maggie exchanged wide-eyed glances at their mother's plain speaking. Giggling, they let Jarret shoo them out of Rennie's bedroom.
Jarret shut the door and leaned against it. He watched Rennie sleep her heavy, drugged sleep, but his mind was elsewhere. "He's a dangerous bastard," he said softly. "And an arrogant one."
Rennie's breathing was a series of whispers, of sighs. Jarret got rid of his coat and gun belt. He pulled off his boots. He locked the doors. Slipping into bed, Jarret's arms circled Rennie. He held her close. The clock on the mantel ticked off the minutes. A light rain spattered in its own metronomic rhythm against the windowpanes, but it was the steady beat of Rennie's heart that lent Jarret the comfort of sleep.
* * *
She was groggy when she woke. Stumbling out of bed, Rennie made her way to the bathing room and splashed water on her face at the washstand. A vague sense of nausea lingered. She steadied herself at the basin, uncertain if she was going to be sick or faint. The reflection she saw in the mirror was not encouraging. Rennie did not bother to examine it too closely. She cleaned her teeth, rinsed her mouth, and brushed out the ragged tangles in her hair.
She was on the point of returning to bed when she saw Jarret sprawled across the covers. Instead of climbing back in Rennie dropped into the armchair, stole one of the bed blankets, and nested quite comfortably, drawing the blanket over her bare toes and around her shoulders.
Jarret was sleeping soundly. Rennie dimmed the light from the bedside lamp by turning back the wick. Softening the wash of light on his face did not erase the lines of weariness at the corners of his eyes. Strands of dark blond hair were spiked across his forehead and ruffled against the pillow. There was a certain tautness to his face that should have been absent in sleep but remained nonetheless. Only around his mouth had tension disappeared. Rennie's eyes stayed on the shape of his mouth for a long time, memorizing the curve of it, remembering the texture of it against her own mouth, the damp heat of it touching her skin.
"You're awake."
She blinked, surprised, then looked away guiltily for having been caught staring with such blatant carnal intent. "What are you doing in my bed?" she asked. "I'm not dreaming this, am I? You are in my bed and we are in my home with my parents down the hall."
"It's a long hall."
Rennie fought back a smile. "You really have to leave, Jarret. Jay Mac and Mama won't stand for this."
"They both know I'm here."
Her eyes grew fractionally larger. "Now I know I'm dreaming. This is only slightly more preposterous than what I was dreaming earlier." She yawned and made a halfhearted attempt to cover her mouth. "Excuse me."
Jarret's smile was indulgent. "Tell me about your dream," he said casually.
"It was silly." She stifled a second yawn. "I was at the chapel again. St. Gregory's. Only this time you weren't there to stop the wedding. Hollis's friend Taddy was there, telling me to hurry. So were Hollis's other grooms. I tried to say I didn't want to go with them, but they just ignored me. I was there—and I wasn't there. It was like being a participant and a bystander at the same time. We waited somewhere dark, I think, maybe in that little room at the back of the chapel, I'm not certain, and I heard Hollis's name, but I never heard Hollis. That's all I can remember. Oh, and that I had a hard time breathing."
"I see."
"I told you it was silly."
But not unbelievable. Jarret wondered what Hollis's motive was in having Rennie abducted from the house, and just as mystifying, why he had had her returned. He watched Rennie press the back of her hand to her mouth to cover another yawn. Now wasn't the time to tell her. It could wait until morning. He patted the space beside him.
Rennie shook her head. "I couldn't... not here."
"I wasn't thinking of anything besides sleeping." He felt the full force of her skeptical look. "Well," he drawled. "I wasn't going to do anything besides sleep." He paused a beat and added with solemn intent, "Not, at least, until we're married."
She stilled. "Do you mean it?" she asked softly. "You still want to marry me?"
"I've never changed my mind about that, Rennie. Have you?"
"No!" she said quickly. "Oh, God, no. I... I want i
t more than anything. I just didn't know that loving me meant you were still willing to marry me. I've made such a mess of things, I wouldn't blame you if you just walked away."
"You expected me to do that in Echo Falls, didn't you?" he asked. "When you left the cabin after telling me about Hollis, you thought it was the end."
She nodded reluctantly. "You weren't very encouraging."
"I was—" he searched for the right word—"staggered. I needed time to think."
"Jay Mac said that."
"He was right," said Jarret. He was quiet a moment, looking at Rennie consideringly. "Why did you think I accepted work as his bodyguard? And don't say it was because of the money. You know that wasn't a consideration."
"I thought it was because you respect my father... and because you wanted to torment me."
He smiled at that. "Those are reasons," he said, "but not my reasons." Jarret propped himself on one elbow. "You were running from me, Rennie. You made up your mind it was all a mistake, and that was the end of it. There's only one reason I considered taking that damnable train ride back east, and that was to be close enough to catch you."
Rennie hugged herself. Her smile was radiant. She felt as if her heart might burst with gladness.
Jarret's laughter was low, slightly wicked and little regretful. "I see that admission isn't going to entice you into this bed."
She blushed, shaking her head. "I'd like it if you'd come to see Father Daniel with me tomorrow."
"Father Daniel?"
"Actually he's Bishop Colden now. It would be about the church's annulment. I think he can help me."
"A bishop? Aren't you reaching awfully high, Rennie?" Then he saw her secret smile, and he realized he had forgotten for a moment that Jay Mac had planned for the protection of each of his daughters. "Your godfather?" he asked, hardly believing it, yet knowing it was true.
