Leo studied the picture carefully. She had recognized it immediately, of course. It was a picture of the woman who was staying with Jerome Mailer. She handed the picture back to him. "No. I’ve never seen this person before."
"Are you sure?"
"I’m positive."
"But you’re in a position to see everything here. Think hard."
"I’ve already answered your question, Lieutenant. Now, if that’s all, I’ve got a business to run here."
The look he gave her was hard, shrewd, even calculating. "I have a feeling there’s more to you than meets the eye. Perhaps your background would warrant looking into. In the meantime, maybe your memory will improve. I’ll go for now, but I’ll be back."
"I’m sure you will, Lieutenant Brewster."
As Leo watched him get into his car and drive away, she knew that the hard chills she had begun to experience had nothing whatsoever to do with the weather. What would she do if Brewster were able to discover her secret?
#
Jennifer hung up the phone and shut the phone book. That was the last of the hospitals, and Richard wasn’t at any of them. It had been a long shot, but the possibility that Richard could still be alive had begun to niggle at the back of her brain. Logic told her it just wasn’t possible, but she couldn’t seem to let the thought rest. Why had there been no report of his murder? And what had happened to his body?
She pulled the lapels of Jerome’s velour robe closer around her. She could hardly think of her brother lying cold, lifeless, and alone somewhere. After her husband had been killed, Richard had been the one to insist that she move in with him. Not all young men in his circumstances, a popular young bachelor, would have done so. But Richard wouldn’t have it any other way. They had been very close. She supposed it wasn’t any wonder that now her brain wouldn’t completely accept the fact of his death.
Her glance strayed toward the corner of the room, where she had stacked away the boxes that held all the parts of Jerome’s train set. He had seemed genuinely pleased with it, saying he would set it up again as soon as they had solved their problem. It was her problem, really, she thought. She had brought it with her, and as a result, they hadn’t had a chance for a normal relationship. Would they ever? she wondered.
The buzzing of the apartment intercom startled Jennifer out of her thoughts. Jerome came striding in from the other room, fresh from a shower and wearing a towel slung low over his hips. He crossed to the intercom. "Yes? Who? Oh, hell! Yes, of course. You might as well send him up peacefully. You really can’t do anything else, can you?"
"Who is it?" Jennifer questioned, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
Jerome was standing by the intercom frowning, but her question spurred him to action. "Just a guy named Eugene. Nothing to worry about. You let him in while I throw on some clothes."
"Walt! Who is Eugene?" Jennifer looked around. She was speaking to an empty room.
A few minutes later, with more than a little apprehension, Jennifer opened the door, then stepped back in alarm. A huge mountain of a man stood before her. He literally filled the doorway, and he was eyeing her suspiciously. "Is Mr. Mailer in?" His voice sounded like a volcano about to erupt. She took another step back.
"Uh..."
"Mr. Jerome Mailer," the hulking mountain prompted.
"Are—are you Eugene?"
The heavily built man dipped his head in acknowledgment of the fact, and Jennifer looked on in awe. Taking all the laws of physics into account, that action had to be impossible. The man had no neck!
"Eugene." Jerome spoke from behind her, now dressed in slacks and a shirt. "Come on in." As the man lumbered into the room, Jerome performed the introductions. "Jennifer, this is Eugene. Eugene, Jennifer."
Jennifer just barely managed to control the start of surprise she felt that he had given this dangerous-looking man her name.
The huge man dipped his head in her direction once more. "Ma’am."
"What can I do for you, Eugene?" Jerome asked.
Evidently the big man wasn’t one for chitchat. He came right to the point. "Dinner tonight at the St. James’s. Sami says you’re to be there."
Jerome swung his amused gaze to Jennifer’s confused countenance. "Tell her we’ll be there."
Eugene left and Jerome shut the door behind him.
"Who is that man?" Jennifer demanded.
"Eugene? He’s Sami’s bodyguard."
"She has a bodyguard?"
"Officially Eugene has been her bodyguard for the last twelve years. Unofficially more years than that."
"I don’t understand. What kind of woman is she that she needs a bodyguard?"
He hesitated. "It’s a little hard to put labels on Sami. You’ll see for yourself tonight."
"No, I won’t. I’m not going to that woman’s house." She crossed her arms over her chest, prepared to take a stand. The last thing she wanted to do was go to dinner at the home of one of Jerome’s girlfriends.
"Look, I’m sorry, but we have to go. She’s managed to find out about you, and believe me, she won’t stop until she’s met you."
"Uh-uh! No way. Besides, I don’t want to bring anybody else into this. Believe me, the fewer people who know about me, the better."
"I thought that way, too, at first. But now I’ve changed my mind. If we give you high visibility, the people who are after you won’t be able to try something without making a lot of noise. And no one knows more people who can make noise than Sami."
"I suppose it might work. I don’t know. I guess it depends on how desperate they are. But at any rate, it’s irrelevant, because I don’t want to meet this Sami person and that’s final."
"You don’t really have a choice," Jerome pointed out gently. "We’re not going to hurt her by refusing."
"What is it with you and this woman?" She felt like screaming and pulling someone’s hair— preferably not her own.
"She’s my best friend and we’re going."
Best friend, ha! Jennifer thought stormily. She began to chew on her thumbnail. "What did you mean when you said we have to go? You make it sound as if it’s a royal summons."
"Close. Sami has these little dinners at least once a month, sometimes more, depending on how she feels everyone is doing." He smiled reminiscently. "I remember a time, several years ago, when I was otherwise occupied and I tried to offer my regrets."
"Tried?" she asked warily. "What happened?"
"Sami sent Eugene to get me. As I recall, I was in a beautiful companion’s bed at the time. Poor Judith. The last time I saw her she still hadn’t gotten over the shock. And I still have no idea how Eugene found me."
He laughed and suddenly pulled her to him, kissing her until she began to tremble. "Do something for me," he whispered. "Let me choose what you wear tonight."
"Of course." How could she answer any other way? This was Jerome, and she loved him.
He left her briefly, and when he came back, he was carrying a package she had never seen before. He held the box out to her. Carefully she pulled off the lid, then let out a gasp. A pool of emerald green shimmered beneath the folds of tissue paper. Speechless, she looked up at Jerome.
His eyes sparkled with happiness at her reaction. Lifting the dress from the box, he tossed the bottom part of the box aside and held the dress up for her inspection. Quite clearly an original design. The dress was made of silk charmeuse with a circular skirt and a surplice bodice.
"It’s beautiful, Jerome, but why did you buy it? You’ve already bought me so many lovely things."
"I saw it in the window of a dress shop, and I knew that you should be the only woman to ever wear it."
Without a word Jennifer shrugged out of her robe. Standing before him naked, she asked, "Do you want me to try it on now?"
He took a step forward and held the dress against her body. The fabric slid against her bare skin, molding itself to her curves.
"Beautiful." he whispered, not looking at the dress he was holding a
gainst her, but into her eyes. And then the dress dropped away and she went into his arms.
A primitive fire ignited between them, and Jerome lowered them both to the couch. Their lovemaking held no element of anything civilized. It blazed and transformed, their movements attacking, their touches invading, their lips commanding.
#
On first seeing the house where they were to have dinner, Jennifer suddenly remembered all the reasons why she didn’t want to go to a dinner party given by a woman named Sami. The house was an enormous two-story mansion that spoke of old money and great care, and the long circular driveway already held several cars in it when they pulled up. Lights blazed from every window.
Jerome got out and came around to help her out.
Under her cape the silk charmeuse of the dress softly curved around her body, rubbing against her with a life of its own. She silently prayed she was dressed correctly.
As if he knew of her uncertainty regarding the evening ahead, Jerome circled her body with his arms and looked down at her. "You know, this is really the first time I’ve had to share you with anyone, and now that we’re here, I have a sudden compulsion to take you home."
She smiled her gratitude for his words and lifted her hand to his face.
Lowering his head, he placed a tender kiss on the side of her neck. "You look absolutely and completely beautiful. So come on," he reassured her softly. "There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll see. Tonight is going to be a snap." He took her hand and together they walked toward the house.
Almost instantly the door was swung open by an unseen hand and Jerome ushered Jennifer inside. The unseen hand turned out to belong to Eugene, who stood impassive and huge just inside the door. Helping her out of her cape, Jerome said to her, "You remember Eugene, don’t you? Sami’s butler."
"Butler? But I thought you said—"
"Go right in," the mountain, designated as butler, boomed. "You’re expected."
With his hand warm and supportive against the small of her back, Jerome led her through a series of impressive rooms where fine old pieces of furniture—Regency, Queen Anne, Victorian— coexisted with perfect grace. Around the walls of the rooms, high shelves held priceless and fragile works of art. At first glance it appeared that this was a home, much lived in and much loved, and even at night it had a light and airy quality to it.
"Come on," Jerome directed, as she tended to linger. "The family will be at the back."
"Family?"
"Yes. Years ago, when Sami first moved in here, she had several walls knocked out to form one big room at the back of the house. You’ll see."
And so she did, even though she was aware he hadn’t answered her initial question. They entered through a set of double doors that already stood open. It was the loud and happy laughter that assaulted her first. Then the colors: gold, yellow, rosy pink, and a touch of lavender—the colors of summer.
Next, the people. Two men stood by a giant fireplace, deep in discussion. One of them was a very distinguished-looking man who wore dark-framed glasses. The other was tall, dark, and handsome. They both appeared to be in their late forties.
A lovely woman with ash-blond hair sat on the floor, leafing through a magazine. At her feet were a young girl and boy, playing Monopoly. Bright pillows, toys, and books were scattered everywhere. To add to the confusion, there was a long cushiony sofa on which two small children were in the process of doing somersaults from one end to the other. And in one corner of the room there was a complete four-horse carousel.
In the middle of this splendid disorder, a radiantly beautiful woman with honey-blond hair stood holding a large bouquet of summer-colored flowers. Her hair was pinned up into a Gibson style, from which drizzled golden ribbons and tendrils of curls.
About to arrange the flowers in a crystal vase, she raised her head and saw the two of them standing there, and her golden eyes widened happily. "Jerome!" She threw up her arms in welcome and the flowers went everywhere. Seeming to take wings, she flew toward them, her dress billowing out around her in drifts of intricate champagne-colored lace. Throwing herself into his arms, the extraordinary creature exclaimed, "It’s about time! I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been counting the seconds."
Much to Jennifer’s dismay, Jerome lifted her off the floor and kissed her.
"Hi, honey," he said and kissed her cheek.
"Jerome!" Sami looked up at him in amazement. "You have some gray hairs that I haven’t seen before."
"I’m not at all surprised. Allow me to introduce you to the reason why they’ve sprouted." He set her on her feet and turned to Jennifer, his hand reassuringly closing about her waist and pulling her to his side. "This is Samuelina Adkinson Parker-St. James. And Sami, this is Jennifer Prescott."
"Oh, and you’re just beautiful, but then, I knew you would be!" Sami beamed. "I pumped Eugene."
"Shamelessly as a matter of fact." The distinguished man with glasses had joined them. "But you have to know that Eugene’s description didn’t do you justice." He held out his hand and Jennifer took it, liking him immediately. "Hi, I’m Daniel, Sami’s husband and Jerome’s law partner. And over at the Monopoly board is Danielle, our nine-year-old daughter." The child smiled shyly, and Jennifer could see that the girl had her mother’s glorious hair and her father’s navy-colored eyes.
Jerome chimed in. "The kid that’s upside down on the couch over there is their five-year-old son, Samuel. He was named after Sami’s grandfather."
He was a precious little boy, and even upside down, Jennifer could see solemn golden eyes peering at her.
"You’ll meet the rest of our children in a little while," Daniel told her.
Jennifer looked around bewildered and encountered the blue-green gaze of the other lady. "We’re a little overwhelming at first, but you’ll get used to us," she said kindly, rising and gliding toward them. "I’m Morgan Falco. The seven-year-old girl over on the couch who’s being extremely unladylike at the moment is my daughter, Joy. Let’s see, there’s another one someplace. Oh, yes, Jase." She pointed toward the Monopoly board. "He’s twelve." Jennifer could see that the boy was an exact replica of the man who still stood by the fireplace and who, she assumed, was Morgan’s husband. Morgan confirmed it. "And that’s my husband. Jason."
"Don’t worry about remembering anyone’s name," he called, striding toward her and offering her his hand. "If you hang around long enough, we tend to sort ourselves out."
"Jason," Morgan said in reproof. "There’s no if about it. Of course she’s going to be around here a long time. She’s the first girl that Jerome’s ever brought home to us."
"Home? Do you all live here?" Jennifer asked faintly.
"Oh, no, although at times it seems like it. Jason and I have our own place down the road."
"Are you all related?"
"Absolutely."
"Ahhh." Jennifer felt better. She had figured them out. These people were all related in some way.
"But not by blood."
"Oh." Maybe she hadn’t.
"Related by love," Morgan explained. "You see, Sami and I grew up together, and Jerome joined us when he was about eighteen. We’ve been together ever since, sort of helping each other make it through life."
Jennifer was once more thrown for a loop and turned puzzled eyes to Jason.
"Then I found Jason and convinced him to marry me—"
The handsome man by her side chuckled. "She did a great job of convincing."
"—and a year later Sami found Daniel. Unfortunately Jerome has never found anyone to settle down with. At least not yet."
"Yes," Sami said, taking up the conversational thread, "and it’s worried me a great deal. I’d like to talk to you about it." She linked her arm through Jennifer’s and steered her toward a Victorian settee. "Tell me all about yourself."
"Subtle, Sami," Jerome said, "real subtle." Jennifer looked dazedly back at Jerome, who grinned. "Don’t worry. I’ll be right here. I won’t desert you. And remember, you�
��re required to give her only your name, rank, and serial number."
They had just settled on the love seat when Eugene ambled in, a diaper over each shoulder and a baby in each arm. They looked lost in his powerful embrace.
"Oh, good, now you can meet our twins."
"The babies have been fed and are ready for you to put to bed. "
"Thank you, Eugene. He’s a wonderful nursemaid," Sami confided.
"Nursemaid? I thought he was—"
"They’re nine months old." Sami reached for one squirming pink bundle. "This is Meridith, named for Daniel’s mother, and he"—Eugene had just deposited the other baby in Jennifer’s lap— "is Carstairs, named for Daniel’s father. Weren’t we lucky that Daniel had parents whose names rhymed?"
"Meridith and Carstairs rhyme?" Jennifer repeated, confused.
"Sure. Meri and Cary." Sami glanced around the room. "Let’s see, that about accounts for everyone. Well, almost, except Frankie. She’s our cook."
"You mean Eugene isn’t—?"
"Where is she?" Jerome asked, having come to kneel down beside Jennifer. He let Cary grab on to one of his long fingers. Because of his position, her knees were pressed into his lower abdomen, and her blood heated as she remembered how just hours before her head had lain in that very place.
"Oh, around," Sami answered him vaguely. "You know."
Remarkably Jerome nodded as if he did, then glanced up at Jennifer and smiled. He was remembering, too, she realized, and fought to control a blush.
"Eugene, where is Frankie?" Sami questioned.
"In the kitchen. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes." He growled, making Jennifer jump. "Or at least that’s what she claimed."
"See, I knew she was around somewhere! She’s French-Canadian and her name is really Francoise, but the children can’t pronounce it, so we’ve shortened it to Frankie. She’s great. You’ll like her," Sami ended, as if in her mind anything else was totally out of the question.
Samuel came up to Jennifer and put his hand compellingly on her knee. "Would you like to come ride on our merry-go-round?"
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