Illusive Flame

by Girard, Dara

  The assistant hesitated, surprised by her bluntness, then nodded and returned the clothes.

  Victoria looked at Amanda, her cheeks on fire. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” She folded her arms and twisted from side to side, grinning. “Now they’ll know what you need.”

  “You could have said I wanted something beautiful. You know I don’t want your uncle to fall in love with me.”

  She toyed with one of her pigtails. “I know you like Uncle Robert and he likes you.”

  “Yes, but----”

  She sent her a sly glance. “ And I’ve heard Ms. Dana talking.”

  “She’s always talking.”

  “But this time it was interesting.”

  Victoria sighed exasperated as curiosity took hold. “What did she say?”

  “They said they knew how much he liked you when Uncle made Patrice leave because of you. He’s never done that before.”

  “Patrice chose to leave on her own.”

  Amanda didn’t listen. “I’m so glad he made her leave. I told you she was gross, didn’t I? She used to make Ms. Natalie clip her toenails. And she’d always call me ‘Poor Mandy’ because my parents are away. But making Nicholas leave was the best. He likes to pull my hair when no one is looking. Once I put jelly in his shoes, but he had so many, he didn’t even notice.”

  “Does it make you sad that your parents aren’t here?”

  “No. They send me lots of postcards. I wish Uncle would get married though.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Just ’cause.” Then she smiled at Victoria in a way that made her uncomfortable.

  Victoria sighed relieved when the assistant came back with a new selection of dresses. She looked at the new assortment and knew Amanda wasn’t far from wrong. She did want to buy a dress that would make Robert fall in love with her. Something that would make him stop, stare, then announce his undying love.

  She finally found the dress she hoped would do. A translucent blue dress of shimmering layers of silk with an accompanying shawl. She loved how the silk hugged her body and caressed her skin. At another store she bought black slingback shoes. Then off they went to the hair salon where Amanda, or rather her uncle, had already scheduled an appointment. She had her hair put in a soft upsweep of twists.

  “You’re gonna look beautiful,” Amanda said as they drove home. “I wish I could come to the party.”

  “You’ll be bored,” Victoria said. “It’s a grown up party.”

  “How come grown-ups have all the fun?”

  “Who says we have all the fun?” Foster said from the driver’s seat.

  “You do,” she insisted. “I can tell.”

  “I’m going to tease you about this moment when you’re older.”

  Amanda rested her chin on the back of his chair. “I’ll be too busy having fun to care. I’ll be going to parties, shopping, traveling.”

  “Sit back,” Victoria said.

  She turned to her. “Will you visit me before you go to bed?”

  “It may end late.”

  “I’ll wait up.” She clasped her hands together. “Please. It’s only fair I get to see you all dressed up. And you have to tell me everything that happens.”

  She squeezed her hands. “Okay, I will.”

  * * *

  The evening was perfect for a garden party. The tart bite of winter had gone away and summer was pushing through the buds of spring. The array of colors in the garden looked spectacular in the glow of the setting sun. People moved through the heady scent of bellflowers and petunias that mingled with the smoke from tiki lanterns. People oohed and ahhed over their surroundings, with permanent smiles on their faces. Victoria’s smile was beginning to fray, however. For the past hour and a half she had exchanged pleasantries until it became a strain.

  She tried to remember what her aunt would say, how she might behave, but that didn’t help. Everyone looked so well-dressed and sounded so articulate and knowledgeable. She had the strange urge to act like Amanda and find a place to hide. She felt embarrassed not knowing what to say or how to act.

  This-crowd was unimpressed by her, unlike the media who had made her feel like a celebrity. She hadn’t expected the crowd to fawn over her, but she had hoped for more than bland smiles and cool dismissals. They knew the truth about her. She wasn’t a part of their world. She remembered how Uncle William would scold her when guests came over. On the rare instances when he’d let her out of the room to meet them. Don’t drag yuh feet, cover yuh mout when yuh cough, mind your manners. It didn’t matter how she behaved, however, they all still whispered about her.

  Her grand entrance had also been a disappointment. She didn’t see Robert anywhere when she had arrived at the party, and she still hadn’t seen him almost two hours later. Hadn’t he even planned to see her? she wondered. Perhaps he thought she would enjoy herself. How little he knew her if he thought she would find this stuffy crowd enjoyable.

  She glanced across the garden and saw someone looking as uncomfortable as she felt. Foster wore an olive suit that could have benefited from an iron. He scanned the crowd like hunted prey as he tugged on his collar for the tenth time in half an hour. She walked toward him. An attractive black man with thinning hair and a big smile blocked her path. “Victoria Spenser?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He held out his hand. “I’m Prescott Delaney.”

  She shook his hand overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine. I was glad I could scrape together the money to come here and meet you.”

  She didn’t know what to say so she just smiled.

  He glanced around. “This place is amazing. I’m just a regular guy you know. This kind of thing isn’t me, but I had to come.” He lifted the end of her shawl. “You’re an inspiration.”

  A sense of unease rippled through her, mingling with a hint of excitement. Something about him didn’t feel quite right. She kept her smile in place. “Thank you.”

  “I am a contractor. I know a lot of people who could use your expertise.” He pointed. “I see the trellis could use repair. I gave Braxton my card.”

  “We’ll remember to use your help.”

  His gaze measured the length of her. “You’re prettier in person. I saw you on TV both times. So how do you handle crowds like this?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  He lowered his voice to that of a conspirator. “I know about you. About your gift. You sense things right? You don’t have to answer that... I know you’re involved with the recent fire investigations. So, do you think the old woman’s place was an accidental fire?”

  She sent him a look. “I think you already know the answer to that”

  He stepped closer. He smelled like vanilla. A safe, wholesome scent, that didn’t seem to suit him. “It was arson, but they don’t have any leads yet. I know this because they asked me questions about it. I’d been to the old lady’s house. She’d wanted a window seat built. So what do you think?”

  She glanced around eager to escape. “I don’t think this is the place to discuss that.”

  “Where would you like to discuss it?”

  She took a step back. “Since you gave Mr. Braxton your card when my schedule is free I know how to reach you.”

  “Yes, that’s right” He shook his head then said, “Crazy bastard if it was arson.”

  She looked at him, trying to read his eyes. “I don’t think he’s crazy.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No, he’s too clever for that.”

  He appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Not everyone would think that I don’t. I know about fires. My father was in construction. He used to help build those indestructible ‘burn buildings’ fire departments use. Now they got scientific gadgets or video-game stuff. It’s not the same you know? These investigators need to be in the action. They need to feel the heat and smoke and find out the p
ersonality of a fire, how it works. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope you catch him.”

  She fought to keep a pleasant expression. “Thank you.”

  When he made no move to leave she quietly said, “Excuse me.” She walked past him, but soon realized Foster had disappeared. Now she had no anchor in this sea of people. She saw an empty bench and made her way towards it, hoping to get there before someone else had the same idea. She was about to sit when she spotted Robert. Her heart leaped.

  He stood out of the crowd like a palm tree among hibiscus. Even across the garden his magnetism hit her. She tugged on the fringe of her shawl debating on whether she should wait for him to notice her or if she should go to him. She took a step in his direction, trying to think of casual things to say, but people surrounded him and she didn’t want to join the group. When would she ever feel as though she belonged?

  She wrapped her shawl tight around her and discreetly left the party. She headed to Amanda’s room. A hand covered hers as she climbed the stairs. “Has it stuck midnight?” Robert asked, his deep voice stirring feelings within her.

  The warmth of his hand melted her insides. She halted paralyzed, afraid that if she moved or breathed he would disappear and the moment would end. “No.”

  He moved up a step behind her. “Then you can’t leave yet.”

  “I have to,” she said woodenly, trying to ignore the cologne that floated around her.

  “Why?”

  He sounded so ordinary that she turned to him. Her heart nearly stopped. He looked devastatingly handsome in a black suit that accentuated his rich skin and killer smile. He seemed extra large, extra arrogant, and completely out of reach. He was every much the eagle compared with her butterfly. She had money now, but still didn’t belong in his world.

  He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Victoria?”

  “You look wonderful.”

  “So do you. Come back to the party. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  She started, remembering her talk with the man who smelled like vanilla. “Who said I was afraid?”

  He shrugged. “I just felt...” He stopped, frowned, then shook his head. “Forget it.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  “I’m tired. ”

  He laughed. “Yes, some of them are pretty boring, aren’t they? A room full of stomach pills.” He studied her as much as she did him, but whatever thoughts he had, he kept to himself. “There are people I want you to meet.”

  “I’ve met all the people I can stand.”

  “Yes, thank you for not slicing anyone with your tongue, I wouldn’t want blood dripping on my flowers.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s sneak away then.”

  “I have to visit Amanda.”

  He smiled resigned. “So she wants you all to herself? If only we all could be so lucky.” He turned and left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Amanda sat wide-awake on her bed when Victoria entered her room. She gushed over Victoria’s dress and asked questions about the party, wanting Victoria to describe in detail, what people where doing, wearing and eating.

  Victoria told her about the waiters and their trays of champagne, miniature tarts and salmon, and the overheard conversation of a professor comparing society to an ant colony. She described several of the women’s outlandish clothing. She stopped when someone knocked on the door.

  They looked at each other confused.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Victoria asked.

  Amanda shook her head. “No.” She made a face. “It won’t be anyone interesting.”

  The person knocked again. “Come in,” she said.

  Robert entered with a tray of cheesecake covered in strawberries. He had a plate for each of them.

  Amanda bounded towards him. “What are you doing here?”

  He set the tray on her desk. “I brought dessert, hoping I could persuade you to let me stay.”

  “You’ve come to visit me?” she asked shyly, but pleased.

  “Yes, Foster told me you wanted to join the party.”

  She looked away embarrassed. “Yea, but Ms. Victoria’s been telling me all about it. Do you like her dress?”

  Robert’s eyes traveled to her as she sat on the bed, the large glass doors that led to the balcony framing her like a picture. “Very much,” he said in a low tone.

  “I’m glad.” Amanda sat on the bed and bounced up and down. “We had an awful time trying to find one. It almost took forever because the woman kept bringing out these boring dresses, but then I said—”

  Victoria covered her mouth. “Then we got this dress.”

  “You chose very well,” he said.

  Amanda smiled with pleasure. “You look very nice, too.”

  He bowed. “Thank you.”

  “Can we eat now?”

  He handed them a plate then sat on the ground and Amanda sat next to him, peppering him with questions that he calmly answered. Victoria sat across from them as Robert teased Amanda about being a pest. Then she and Robert took turns telling stories until Amanda fell asleep, her head resting on his thigh. She watched him tenderly brush hair from her cheek.

  “You love her very much,” she said.

  He glanced up surprised. “Sure. She’s my sister’s kid.”

  Victoria knew his feelings were more than that and wondered when he would admit that fact to himself.

  Robert smiled in memory. “I remember the first day I brought her home. I was terrified. Anytime I wanted to pick her up I made sure there were pillows around in case I dropped her.” Robert put Amanda in bed then invited Victoria out on to the balcony. Jazz music floated up to them mixing with the scent of ivy. In her mind she saw drifts of smoke from the tiki lamps mingle with the moonlight. She thought about the recent fires and felt an unmistakable high.

  “What’s wrong?” Robert asked.

  “What do you mean what’s wrong?”

  “Something is troubling you, and don’t give me that look—just answer the question.”

  She gripped the railing. “I met a man.”

  Robert’s face became a hard mask. “What did he do? Is he still here?”

  She grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. “It wasn’t like that. He was very polite. He was also very interested in the recent fires.”

  “That’s common. I get that a lot. People find out I’m an arson investigator and suddenly they want to know what a burned body looks and smells like.”

  “It seemed more than casual interest. I don’t know... it may be nothing. He said he gave you his card.”

  “I get a lot of business cards and hand them over to Foster.”

  “I need to see them.”

  They retrieved the cards from Foster and shifted through them. Victoria seized one. “Prescott Delaney. That’s him.”

  “Hmm... his name sounds familiar.”

  “He said he talked to you. You questioned him about the fire.”

  “Oh. It’s not uncommon for potential witnesses or even suspects to develop an unhealthy interest in a case. Since he doesn’t stick out in my mind, he probably came out clean.” He saw the concern on her face and sighed resigned. “Okay I’ll try to find out more.”

  She slowly smiled. “Thank you.”

  Unfortunately, despite his search there was nothing suspicious about Prescott Delaney.

  * * *

  Prescott would have been thrilled if he’d known he’d captured Victoria’s interest. He glanced out his window at the summer evening. It had been weeks since the garden party, but he was still high from his meeting with Victoria, Vernon Taylor’s daughter. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten the chance to meet her. She was all he thought she would be. Such pretty brown eyes. He’d researched all he could about her. She loved fire as much as he did. That gave them a special connection no one else could understand.

  He wondered if she knew he was the firestarter for whom the investigators were looking. He doubted it. Prescott turned fr
om the window and sat on his couch. He wanted to see her again. He didn’t know when she’d be free to discuss the fires with him. Maybe he could convince her to use him to build something. He’d love to do something to impress her.

  He turned on the Channel Six news. A pretty brunette came on the screen.

  “It’s been over four months since a fire ravaged a local warehouse and investigation has fallen flat. Despite their psychic guidance, the investigators have few leads, little evidence, and no suspects...”

  Prescott watched with growing anger as he listened to the reporter’s offensive tone. Who the hell was this woman? He read the name on the screen. Susannah Rhodes. Susannah sounded like such a nice, elegant southern name. One would have thought she’d grown up with more manners, but those ambitious women always seemed to have more balls than breasts.

  Susannah Rhodes... oh yea... he knew about her. He was surprised she was still working. Years ago she was just a washed up lush the tabloids liked to capture in embarrassing situations. Amazing the type of people the public gave second chances.

  Prescott flexed his fingers as a headache slowly grew. You’d think she’d be more grateful for this chance to educate the public. Instead, she had a disdain for the community and even her audience. Just because she was pretty didn’t mean she was better than others or had the right to be disrespectful of the people who risked their lives to keep the county safe. Just where would she be if anything happened to her? He began to grin...

  * * *

  Grant balanced on the back legs of his chair as he sat in Robert’s office. He glanced at Melinda, who had on her focused face. Personally, he’d rather do something else. He was sick of the warehouse fire case. The Techno Technology company still hadn’t filed an insurance claim, although all the other companies in the warehouse had. When he’d gone to inquire about why, the insurance agent looked at him confused. He hadn’t even been aware that one of their clients had been involved in a fire.

  Grant sighed. Aside from that, there were no signs that Haddad planned coming out of hiding any time soon. Through reconstructing the TT cargo they learned that the company didn’t have the high-quality electronics from Singapore and China they had listed. Instead, they had a lot of cabinets. It was a nice facade...like a warehouse stacking empty boxes to look full.