by Kay Hooper
Alex shrugged. “I think the party broke up sometime after ten.”
“And you went your separate ways?”
“More or less. Amelia said she had letters to write. Madeline said something about a book. Kerry went to the music room; we could hear her playing, because Josie and I stayed in the den for a while. Then we went upstairs.” He paused, then added, “To my room.”
Without comment, Brent made a note in the little black notebook he carried, and then looked at Daniel. “What about you?”
“Laura and I were upstairs,” Daniel said. “In my room. Together.”
“All evening?” Brent asked.
“And all night,” Daniel replied calmly.
Brent nodded, again without comment, and made more notes. When he spoke again, it was briskly. “Did any of you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?”
Laura spoke for the first time, hesitant. “I saw something. But it was after midnight, so it wouldn’t matter—would it?”
“What did you see?”
“I looked out the window and saw someone leave the conservatory. Whoever it was wore a cloak or something, and I couldn’t tell—”
“That was me,” Kerry said. “I often walk in the gardens at night.” She looked up at Brent, and a faint quiver disturbed the serenity of her expression. “I walked over the footbridge twice. But I didn’t notice anything.”
Brent nodded and made another note. Then he looked at Daniel. “I doubt Amelia would have had the strength to shove Anne, but I’ll need to talk to her. And your mother.”
Daniel frowned and shook his head. “Not today. They were both upset when I told them about Anne, naturally. And Mother’s sedated.”
“Tomorrow, then.” Brent looked at him steadily. “They may have heard something, seen something. I have to talk to them, Daniel.”
“Don’t expect me to like it.”
“No, I never expect miracles.” Brent smiled slightly, then sighed and closed his notebook, sliding it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “We’ve roped off the area around the footbridge, and I’d appreciate it if that could be left undisturbed for a day or two. I’ll send one of my people out to take down the tape as soon as possible.”
“All right,” Daniel said. “I suppose there’s nothing new on Peter’s murder?”
“No.” Brent hesitated, then added, “My superiors would probably have my badge for saying this, but we may never know who killed Peter, Daniel. So far every lead has faded away to smoke. The investigation will continue, of course—but I have to be honest. As things stand now, there’s no good suspect, and no evidence pointing to one.”
Josie said, “It’s only been two weeks.”
He nodded. “I know that. As I said, the investigation will continue; there’s no statute of limitations on murder. But if murders aren’t solved quickly, they tend not to be solved at all. I just wanted you all to be prepared.”
“Great,” Alex muttered.
Brent looked at Daniel. “I’ll be back tomorrow, probably in the afternoon, to talk to Amelia and Madeline.” And when Daniel nodded reluctantly, added, “In the meantime, if any of you remember anything or think of something that might be helpful, let me know.”
There was a little silence after he left, and then Kerry got to her feet. “I never liked Anne, but I never wished her harm. Do you suppose her death had anything to do with Peter’s?”
Alex frowned at her. “How could it have?”
“I don’t know.” Her expression was tranquil. “But two violent deaths in the same family within two weeks seems a bit much—even for the Kilbournes.” Without waiting for anyone to respond to that, she strolled from the room.
“You know, she’s right,” Alex said a bit ruefully to Daniel.
He grimaced. “It had occurred to me. But I’m damned if I can see any connection—other than their affair.”
Sighing, Josie rose and said, “All I know is that there are arrangements to make, and I might as well get started. I’ll have to try and contact Philip Ralston in Europe. He has to be told.”
“Nice call to get on a Sunday night,” Alex murmured as he too got to his feet. “Assuming we can track him down. I’ll help, sweet.”
Josie didn’t thank him verbally, but her hand slipped into his as they left the room.
“Glad those two are finally going public,” Daniel said absently. “It’s about time.”
Laura leaned her head against his shoulder. “Mmm. Daniel, do you think Anne died somehow because Peter did?”
“I wish I knew.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “I should leave, go back to my apartment. Amelia won’t be thinking about the portrait, and—”
Daniel shifted so that he could put his hands on her shoulders. His gaze was very intent, and there was a look of strain around his mouth. “Laura … I have no right to ask you to stay here, especially after today. I couldn’t blame you if you decided to get as far away from this family as possible. But—I’m asking you to stay. I need you with me.”
There were many questions Laura could have asked him, but none of them seemed important in that moment. So she merely nodded and went into his arms.
IT WAS FAIRLY late that night when Alex and Josie went up the stairs together. Dinner had been virtually silent, with no one bothering to “dress” for the meal, and not even Amelia had been able to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She had retreated to her room soon after, as had Madeline, while Kerry had ordered the car and gone out without explanation. Daniel and Laura had remained downstairs for a while, but had gone up sometime before.
“What a day,” Alex murmured as they reached the second floor and walked down the hallway.
“Tomorrow won’t be much better,” Josie reminded him. “More questions, more arrangements—and don’t forget the press.”
Alex groaned. “Lovely. And I have to go chasing after box number two.”
“Box number two?”
He slipped an arm around her waist. “Just Peter bent on pissing me off from the grave.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?”
“Probably not. Ignore me, sweet. Let’s just say I’m not looking forward to the next few days.”
“No. Neither am I.” They had reached her bedroom, which was first in the hallway, and she looked at Alex hesitantly. “Would you … stay with me tonight?”
He glanced at the closed door, which had not yet admitted him, and then looked at Josie steadily. “Because it’s been a lousy day?”
She shook her head. “Because I want you with me.”
Alex waited.
Josie knew what he needed to hear. “I can promise we’ll be alone in there. The picture that used to be on my dresser isn’t there anymore. I put it away in a photo album where it belongs. It’s there with pictures of my parents, and pictures of me on a pony, and high school graduation. Memories. Just pleasant memories tucked away where they belong.”
Slowly, Alex began to smile. “Well, it’s about damn time. Which side of the bed do you prefer, sweet?”
Chapter 15
Hello, stranger.” Cassidy came into Laura’s apartment on Monday afternoon, and as her friend closed the door behind her, she added, “Are you home to stay, or—”
“No, just picking up a few things.” Laura avoided her friend’s searching look, going behind the breakfast bar to pour her a cup of coffee. “I was surprised to find you home this early. Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“They’re painting my office, so I got the afternoon off.”
Laura nodded and set the coffee cup on the bar. “Here, this is fresh.”
“Never mind the coffee,” Cassidy said, sitting down at the bar and reaching for the cup despite her statement. “I’ve been reading the papers today. Is it true? Was she murdered?”
Laura picked up her own cup and sipped, then shrugged. “We don’t know yet. The lieutenant who’s investigating is supposed to come to the house in about an hour t
o talk to Daniel.”
“How’s the family taking it?”
“According to their various personalities.” Laura smiled. “Amelia has rallied after a bad weekend. Anne obviously slipped, she says, and though it’s a terrible tragedy, we have to get on with our lives. Pretty much the same way she was when Peter was killed, smiling and aloof. She decided it would be a good idea for us to work on the portrait this morning. Daniel was inclined to suggest—forcefully—that she wait at least until after the funeral, but I reminded him it would keep Amelia occupied while he and Josie dealt with all the calls and the police. And I wanted to keep busy myself.”
“So you spent the morning painting Amelia?”
Laura nodded. “Kerry spent the morning with her music. Josie, as I said, helped Daniel, and Alex went into the city. Madeline ordered the car early and left; she said she had a friend she’d promised to visit, but it looked more to me like she was escaping. Not even the sedatives could shield her from that place in the garden roped off with bright yellow tape.”
Cassidy looked at her steadily. “And how is Laura holding up? You’re looking a bit taut, friend, and sounding ragged.”
“I’m feeling that way too.” Without much expression in her voice, Laura filled her friend in on most of the details of the weekend, sketching the events and characters. She also admitted her changed relationship with Daniel matter-of-factly, though she didn’t go into detail about it.
“You’re in love with him,” Cassidy said.
Laura lifted her cup in a small salute of acknowledgment. “Surely that doesn’t surprise you?”
“No, not especially. But that you’re virtually moving in with him so quickly like this—that surprises me. Laura … are you sure you can trust him? I mean, trust him not to hurt you?”
“Hurt me? You mean—”
“Well, Anne might have been pushed, right?”
“Daniel wouldn’t hurt me.” Laura didn’t realize it until she said it aloud, but she was as sure of that as she had ever been of anything in her life. Surer. “And he didn’t hurt Anne. I know it.”
“Okay, if you say so. But there are other kinds of hurt. You’re in love, but is he in love with you?”
Laura hesitated. “I don’t know. Sometimes, when he looks at me, I think he is. I know he … he feels something for me. Oh, hell, Cass, so much has happened since we met, I just don’t know. I’ve barely been able to think. But he said he needed me with him, and that’s why I’m going back there.”
Cassidy looked at her searchingly, with almost detached curiosity. “I always wondered what you’d be like in love. It’s body and soul for you, isn’t it? Absolutely all of you.”
Laura laughed shakily. “Unlike you, yes! I think I always knew it would be this way, and that’s why I was so cautious for so long. Until I met Daniel. With him … I’m happy, Cass. I mean, when it’s just the two of us, nothing else matters. It’s like I’ve … come home.”
After a moment, Cassidy said, “Then I envy you that. But as for the rest, it sounds like a real mess. It’s obviously getting to you. Like I said, you’re looking awfully tense. And what’s that stuff about you dreaming and then not being able to get near the footbridge? You’ve never been psychic, have you?”
“Not to my knowledge. Daniel accepted it so matter-of-factly that we haven’t even talked about it, but I don’t know where it came from. And I don’t know why it is that I feel this urgency to finish Amelia’s portrait. I worked like a demon on that thing this morning—it’s nearly finished, I think. Even Amelia was pleased. Of course, she thinks it’s just a practice portrait.”
“But it isn’t?”
Laura stared at her and felt an odd chill. “No. It isn’t. It’s the only portrait I’ll ever do of Amelia.”
Cass shivered suddenly. “You’re scaring me, friend.”
“I’m scaring myself.” Laura turned away briefly to pour fresh coffee, then said in a steadier voice, “Maybe it’s just that house having its effect on me, or more of my odd whims and notions—but I know what I know, Cass. There won’t be another painting of Amelia.”
“Are you … afraid something might happen to you? The way it did to Anne?”
Shaking her head, Laura said, “That I don’t know. I don’t feel afraid, really, just uneasy. But more than before. I keep wanting to look back over my shoulder, and I think you’d have to peel me off the ceiling if somebody yelled ‘Boo’ real loud.” She let out a little sound that wasn’t really amused. “It’s probably just the house. I mean, God, look at everything that’s happened there, in that family. Is it any wonder you could cut the tension with a knife? Is it any wonder I’m having unsettled dreams and looking over my shoulder?”
“Don’t go back there,” Cassidy said definitely.
“I have to.”
“Why? Because Daniel’s there?”
“Yes. Because he’s there. Because it isn’t finished.”
“What isn’t finished? The portrait? The story of the mirror? Your love affair?”
Laura managed a smile. “All of the above. And who killed Peter. We still don’t know that.”
With an impatient gesture, Cassidy said, “I give up. You’re hell-bent to get yourself killed. I can see it now. Amelia’s finally going to crack and push you down the stairs, in the best tradition of Gothic heroines. Or Madeline will slip some of her sedatives into your drink one night and shove you out a window because you smiled at her the wrong way at dinner. Or Daniel—”
“Daniel won’t hurt me,” Laura interrupted.
“Now I know what they mean by crazy in love. You certainly are.”
Laura set her cup on the counter and said lightly, “Maybe so. And if I crash and burn, you can say you told me so. In the meantime, though, would you keep watering my plants for me? And keep an eye on the place?”
“Oh, sure.” Cassidy got off the bar stool, shaking her head. “Nuts. She’s nuts.”
“Thanks.”
“Just send me a postcard from the asylum, huh?”
Later, as Laura drove herself back to the Kilbourne house, she thought about the conversation with Cassidy and wondered once more at her own inexplicable feelings. The only portrait she’d ever do of Amelia? Where had that certainty come from?
It was a question she couldn’t answer, just as she couldn’t answer the question of why it had upset her so much to read the material Dena had left for her at her apartment building, the copies of letters written just after the turn of the century. She had done that first upon returning to her apartment, and the letters that Shelby Hadden had written to her lover and then husband, Brett, had left her almost in tears. Dena hadn’t been kidding when she had referred to the intense passion between those two, but it was the utter devotion they shared that had gotten to Laura. They had been through hell in order to be together, but both clearly felt the prize worth the price they had paid for it.
I just envy them, that’s all.
Shaking off the wistful thought as she reached the Kilbourne house, she parked her car near the garages and then went into the house through a side door off the kitchen, taking the back stairs up to the second floor. She had brought only a small bag with her, and unpacked her things in the guest suite rather than Daniel’s room. She didn’t know why she was still so reluctant to move her things there, especially since no one in the house could be in any doubt as to their relationship, but her inner voice was still resisting and so she listened to it.
She went downstairs, and found Daniel working at his desk in the library. She knocked softly on the doorjamb. “If I’m interrupting—”
“I’ll thank you for it,” he said, pushing his chair back and holding out his hand to her with a smile.
Laura came to him, finding herself pulled smoothly onto his lap.
“I missed you,” he said, kissing her.
When she could, Laura said, “I was only gone a couple of hours. But I missed you too.” She linked her fingers together behind his neck, trying to keep
it light, casual. “You must have been busy, though. Has the phone finally stopped ringing?”
Daniel shook his head. “As of this afternoon, we have a service, and it’s taking all calls.”
“Probably a good idea. Where is everyone?”
“Josie’s upstairs getting the latest batch of letters from Amelia. Kerry went for a walk in the gardens, I assume taking the path that doesn’t go near the footbridge. Alex should be back anytime now.” He frowned. “So should Mother.”
“Isn’t Lieutenant Landry due here soon?”
“He called to say he’d been delayed a few minutes.”
“Did he say—?”
“No. Just that something interesting had turned up. He can be a cryptic bastard when he wants to be.”
“Speaking of cryptic”—Laura nodded at the papers spread out on his desk—“what is all this?”
Daniel looked at her a moment as if debating, then said, “Preliminary designs for an aircraft tracking system. And various work logs and sign-in sheets for the research and development lab.”
A little surprised, Laura said, “Is this the kind of work you do? I thought your end was finance.”
“That is my end.” He grimaced slightly. “As far as the science of this stuff goes, I’m out of my league.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Looking for fingerprints.” Daniel shook his head. “And finding only the ones that aren’t the least bit helpful.”
“I see Landry isn’t the only one who can be cryptic when he wants to. Daniel, if this is one of those things we aren’t talking about yet—”
“It was,” he admitted frankly. “But it looks like the whole damn thing’s going to be public sooner rather than later, and I want you to be prepared.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He looked grim now. “It won’t be pleasant.”
Before he could say anything more, Alex walked into the room. The young lawyer was dressed casually in jeans and a Georgia Tech sweatshirt, but carried a businesslike satchel briefcase. And he said a single, succinct word to Daniel.
“Bingo.”
Laura felt Daniel tense, and quickly got off his lap. “I’ll leave you two.”
