For the whole of ten minutes, Tiffany talked nonstop while at the same time watching out the window for Ben. “What do I say to him,” she finally asked.
“I’ll handle it.”
As soon as Ben parked, he hopped out of his truck, yanked open the door and headed straight for Tiffany. Just in time, Birdie put her hand out to stop him. “Ben Coulter, I’d like you to meet my daughter.”
That stopped him dead in his tracks, Ben looked first at Tiffany and then at Birdie. “Your daughter?”
“I lied to you,” Tiffany tried to explain. “I had to, I mean it was the only way to find her. and...”
He took Tiffany in his arms. “Are you sure this is not just another one of your stories?”
“I wish it were. I...”
He wouldn’t let her finish. “All I need to hear you say is that you will marry me.”
“Well.” She giggled when he frowned. “Yes, I will marry you, but not too soon, okay? This world is spinning too fast for me as it is.”
“I can wait,” he whispered just before he lowered his lips to hers.
She let him kiss her and then put an arm around Birdie. “I can’t wait to tell Earl. He’ll be so happy, I think, if the news doesn’t kill him. “Birdie...Mom, will you come with me?”
“We both will,” said Ben.
IN THE SPACE OF ONLY two days, Earl Woodbury, the man who hadn’t spoken in years, had all the answers he sought, and some he never dreamed of. It was decided Tiffany would stay at the bed and breakfast so she could get to know her mother, and when Ben mentioned Tiffany had agreed to marry him, Earl insisted he pay for the wedding.
Birdie couldn’t wipe the grin off her face and neither could Tiffany.
Everything was finally right with the world including one very special thing – Wayne admitted baby Tiffany was indeed alive and attending a university in Ireland.
“Has she been told the truth?” Tiffany asked.
“Otis is telling her in the morning, Ireland time,” Earl answered. “Legally, she is still my daughter and the least I can do is make sure she has what she needs.” He was thoughtful for a minute. “How would you like to honeymoon in Dublin?”
“Really?” Tiffany asked.
Earl grinned, “All expenses paid.”
“I don’t see how we can pass that up,” Ben admitted.
“And what am I to do with no one to cook for?” Beverly insisted.
“You’re coming too,” he said. “Besides, isn’t it time you married me?”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “It’s about time you asked!”
FOR A SECOND TIME, Beverly heard the news before Mariam, and even before the town had time to digest the truth about Wayne Griffin, they had something new to ponder – the girl they knew as Tiffany Clark, was actually the daughter Birdie was forced to give away.
As if the town was not already a buzz about it, Jerry Farrell decided to congratulate Birdie and Tiffany via his new mobile billboard. That was, of course, the very way Michael found out about it.
IN THE OFFICE OF THE Woodbury Tile Company, Michael sat in a chair facing the front of his desk with his head in his hands. When the door opened, he shouted, “Get out!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” said Earl.
Michael abruptly dropped his hands and stood up. “Dad?”
As if he’d never left, Earl walked to the back of the desk and took his rightful place as owner of the company. He waited while Michael slowly returned to his seat. “About your inheritance.” Earl pulled a paper out of his suit pocket, and then handed it across the desk. “This is an accounting of all the money you’ve charged to “miscellaneous expenses” over the years. I’ve discounted 25 percent as legitimate. The rest is your inheritance.”
“Dad, you can’t...”
“Oh yes I can. I know how much I pay you Michael, and you’ve lived all these years way beyond your means. I let you get away with it because I didn’t care. Now I do. I have three grandchildren, two I turned my back on and one you kept from me.”
“I didn’t keep her from you, Birdie’s parents did.”
Earl smiled, “Nice try. The way I hear it, you swore you were not Tiffany’s father.”
Michael hung his head. “That’s true, I did.”
“Good, at least you’re being honest.” Earl looked out the window for a brief moment. “I was to blame too, but neither of us can change the past. It’s the future that concerns me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I talked to Jerry this morning and he’s agreed to make certain this little feud of yours doesn’t hurt anyone. Oh, if I were brave, I’d make the two of you knock it off, but then I’d have to face Beverly and Tiffany. You may not know it, but you and Jerry have breathed new life in this town.”
“Is that all? You’re not going to fire me?”
“No, but I suggest you fire that son of yours. He’s old enough to find out what working for a living is like, and now that you’ve already spent your inheritance, he’s not in line to inherit either.”
“What about Gloria?”
“She and Tiffany will be taken care of.”
“Tiffany,” Michael muttered. “Do you think she will see me?”
“I don’t know.” When Earl stood up, he finally noticed the portrait on the wall. “You kept it?”
Michael turned around and looked behind him. “Those were good times, Dad.”
“Yes they were. I miss your mother every day.”
“Dad, why did you marry Shelley?”
“I didn’t. I just agreed to let her live in my house and to give the baby my name.:”
“But why?”
“She said she was in trouble and needed a safe place to be while she had her baby. Turns out, she was in more trouble than I thought and was actually hiding from the FBI.” Earl stood up. “Well, that’s it. When I come back from seeing Shelley’s daughter in Ireland, we’ll have a dinner together, all of us hopefully.” With that, he walked out and left Michael to ponder what little was left of his life.
CRAZY EDDIE PICKED Lyndell Fagan up in front of the prison, and nearly killed them both trying to outrun a local sheriff. Eddie paid the ticket in full on the spot.
Earl and Beverly flew to Vegas right away to get married, and invited a thrilled Mariam along to witness the happy event. A month later, Nancy and Rod, together with Ben and Tiffany, were married in a double ceremony on a cloudless day at the lake. Alex, Gloria and all three ex-wives were there, but Birdie forbid Michael to show up, so he spent the day alone in his office.
Tiffany’s family came, including all her adopted brothers and sisters.
In the Dublin airport three days later, Beverly, Ben and Tiffany watched as Earl made his way through the crowd to a young girl holding up a sign with his name on it. They could not hear what was said, but when the girl hugged the legal father she never knew she had, all of them breathed a sigh of relief.
Wayne Griffin pled not guilty. It took all he had left of the ransom money to pay attorney’s fees, but Birdie’s testimony alone was enough to seal his fate. There wasn’t sufficient evidence to charge him with his ex-wife’s murder, but the jury gave him life for the kidnapping.
His daughter did not attend the trial.
It took a while for Earl to get it through the courts, but the money in Shelley’s bank account, plus years of accumulated interest, was eventually sent to her daughter.
~the end~
Missing Heiress
(A Jackie Harlan Mystery)
Sample chapter
The Harlan Detective Agency was the best there was when it came to finding missing people. They were also the most expensive, so it was no coincidence that they were hired to find the heir to a fortune totaling over 1.6 billion dollars.
Nicholas Gladstone left everything to a granddaughter he didn't know he had until a week before he died, but which one was it - the maid secretly working in the parent's home, an office worker, or
the young woman tragically killed in a car accident?
CHAPTER 1
IT WAS NO ACCIDENT that Teresa Gregory secured a position as maid to Mathew and Laura Connelly – she planned it that way. She asked around, found out which temp agency the Connellys used, signed with that agency, and then waited her turn. Word was that Laura Connelly went through maids like water, and Teresa didn’t expect it to be very long before the agency sent her there. The American wealthy favored pretty girls with British accents, and she was certainly all that. As it turned out, she was not offered the position until two weeks before she was due to return to England.
The agency carefully explained the Connelly situation to her, and it soon became clear – the reason the Connellys couldn’t keep a maid was because Laura was a drunk and Mathew was a letch. The position required fulfilling Mrs. Connelly’s needs, doing laundry, cleaning, serving meals, answering the phone, and keeping the Connelly’s social calendar up-to-date.
The agency didn’t say anything about fulfilling Mr. Connelly’s needs.
It was early morning when Teresa arrived at the wealthy gated community on Chester Street in Denver. She got out of the taxi at the gate, was let in by the security guards, and walked up the street. There were several houses facing the circular drive, but according to the internet map, the sprawling, two-story, Federation style mansion in the middle belonged to the Connellys. It had a four-car garage and a limousine, complete with a driver, waiting in the wide driveway. The expansive lawn was well cared for, and was bordered with rose bushes that gave off their sweet aroma.
Carrying a small bag, she walked up the drive to the front door, nodded to the waiting driver, rang the bell, and was let in by a middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Eleanor.
“I am the cook, and my husband, Mark, does odds and ends, and drives the Connellys’ limo,” Eleanor explained, as she led Teresa to a bedroom located on the bottom floor just beyond the indoor swimming pool. “Mark and I have the room next to yours. You can knock on the wall if you need help.”
“Will I need help?” Teresa asked.
“I hope not. Mr. Connelly ain’t here much, and when he is, you best just stay out of his way.”
“I see.” Teresa set her bag on the bed and looked around. It was a comfortable enough room, especially for her purposes. It had a bed, an easy chair, a table, and a television on a stand. The door, she noticed, had a deadbolt on the inside.
“There’s an elevator for when Mrs. Connelly can’t make it up the stairs.” Eleanor took hold of the doorknob. “You hungry? The Connellys don’t eat breakfast, but I’d be pleased to make you up something.”
“No, thank you, I’ve already eaten.” She smiled as Eleanor closed the door and then she took a deep breath.
She was in...at long last.
A TALL WOMAN, WITH long dark hair and blue eyes, twenty-two-year old Teresa was dressed in the required gingham, short sleeved, French style uniform. It was blue with trim on the sleeves that matched her white half apron. Her first glimpse of the Connellys was a brief one. Mathew hurried his wife out the door and climbed into the back of the limo beside her. They didn’t say where they were going and Teresa didn’t ask.
Once they were gone, she took her time becoming familiar with the place. Oddly, the furnishings and the decor in the eight-bedroom, ten-bathroom house clearly had not been updated for at least twenty years. Most of the rooms hadn’t seen much use either. Yet, there was plenty of work to keep a small staff busy and then some.
Teresa decided to ignore the other rooms for now, made the beds in the separate bedrooms the Connellys apparently occupied, and located several places to hide...should the need arise.
When the Connellys came home later that afternoon, Teresa was in the dining room dusting the tall china cupboard. Laura immediately headed for the liquor cabinet in the living room to make herself a drink, while Mathew watched. Neither of them seemed to care who might be listening, so Teresa moved a little closer to the arched doorway between the two rooms.
Mathew glared at his wife. “She told me she called you. What did you tell her, Laura?” A little too thin for his height, Mathew’s tailored, dark blue suit fit him well enough. He was an unusually handsome man with slightly graying sideburns. His dark hair was fashionably short, and he had intense blue eyes.
“I told her the same thing I told all the others,” Laura answered.
It was obvious Laura had once been quite a beauty, but the alcohol she consumed over the years made her face puffy and her cheeks red. Even so, she still had a girlish figure, dark hair, pretty blue eyes, and a nice smile – although her smile was disingenuous just now.
“Laura, I need to know exactly what you said.”
“Why? Is she the one you truly love these days?” She finished pouring her drink, took a long swallow, and then headed up the mahogany staircase.
Mathew soon followed. “I don’t love her, but I do need her.”
Drink in hand, Laura stopped halfway up and turned around to face him. “I can’t imagine what for. Darling, don’t you have someplace to go? Why don’t you just run along? You know you want to.”
“There was a time when you wanted me to stay home.”
“There was a time when...” Laura stopped in midsentence and continued up the stairs.
He watched her disappear around the corner, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. When he turned to go back down, he spotted Teresa standing in the archway. “See that she doesn’t hurt herself, and remember to make sure she takes her medicine every morning.”
“Yes, Mr. Connelly, I’ll remember.”
As soon as he reached the bottom step, he stopped, looked at her for a long moment, and started to say something. He changed his mind, and instead, walked out the front door, letting it slam behind him.
Teresa went to the window, moved the curtain aside and watched. One of the garage doors opened, Mathew backed out, and then drove his red Ferrari around the curved driveway toward the gate. After he was gone, she let the curtain close and went upstairs to see about Laura.
THE NEXT MORNING, TERESA stood beside the bed, opened her palm and offered a pill to Mrs. Connelly.
Laura Connelly’s enormous bedroom on the second floor was decorated in outdated pastel mauve and blue. The room held a dressing table, a sofa and loveseat with a matching reading chair, a reading lamp, a magazine rack and a coffee table. Her walk-in closet was bigger than most bedrooms, held three dressers and more clothes than any one woman had a right to own. Teresa expected to spend an entire week just organizing it.
“I don’t want that, take it away,” Laura moaned. In her king-size bed, complete with a lace trimmed mauve canopy, she turned her back to the maid and buried the side of her face in a pillow.
“Mr. Connelly gave me specific instructions to see that you take your blood pressure medicine.”
“Of course he did, he wants me alive, not dead...at least not yet.”
“You wish to die?”
Laura turned back over. “No I don’t. I can’t die now; I would miss all the fun.”
“What fun is that?”
Laura sat up and then held her head as her hangover pain began. She waited for it to subside, took the pill, put it in her mouth, and then washed it down with the glass of water Teresa handed her. “The inheritance, my dear, we have to go to court to settle the matter of my inheritance.”
“Is that why you were gone yesterday?”
Laura wrinkled her brow. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“I’m new, remember?”
Laura thought about that for a moment. “Of course you are. We are contesting the will, you see, and I...what day is this?”
“Tuesday, the ninth.”
“Tuesday? I guess I must be in court again today. What shall I wear? Black would be proper in honor of my father, I suppose.”
Teresa set the glass of water on the nightstand, walked into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. “I think your red suit will do nicely.
”
Laura moaned a second time. “I hate red.”
“Yes, Mum, but it brings out the color of your hair. Do you not want to please your husband?”
“Please him, no; taunt him, yes. Come to think of it, I might enjoy reminding him of what he is missing. Red it is.” Laura struggled to throw the covers back. “Who am I fooling? He hasn’t been tempted in years. We don’t even sleep in the same bed, and not even the same house most of the time. Crumbs, that’s all he ever gave me. I truly hate the man, but Connie, I still long for his crumbs sometimes.”
“Teresa.”
“Oh yes, Teresa.”
The maid held out a silk robe while Laura stood up and slipped her arms in the sleeves. “Come along, it is time for your shower.”
Laura followed her to the bathroom, and then leaned against the doorjamb while Teresa tested the temperature of the water. “You know, it is almost spooky.”
“What is?”
“How much you remind me of me when I was your age.”
“NICOLE JUST FIRED COLLEEN,” Jim whispered as he walked past Maggie’s small office cubical. She stood up, made certain Nicole was not around, and followed him to the break room. She liked her dark hair long, but not long enough to reach the middle of her back as it did now. Sadly, a hairdresser was something she could not afford. Her wages were scandalously low, but considering her circumstances, she was happy to find any position with a Human Resources Department that didn’t require American references.
The Gallaher Superior Telephone Service office building in downtown Denver once housed over 500 people. With the failing economy and so many improvements that GSTS couldn’t match, the number of employees had dwindled to one-hundred-twenty-six. In Maggie’s department, that left only five.
Maggie Jackson was an Account Cancellation Specialist for a phone company. Simply put, it meant she cancelled accounts, generated a final invoice and refunded deposits. The more their customers moved on to other providers and cancelled their GSTS accounts, the more secure Maggie’s job was.
Love and Suspicion Page 25
