by Jessica Beck
“Or the penthouse on top of the building,” Jake said with a shrug. “We don’t have to go in, you know. April Springs isn’t that far away.”
“Would you really drive another two hours in bad weather just to miss this party?” I asked him.
“In a heartbeat, weather and all.”
“Come on,” I said with a grin, forcing myself to be positive. “We’ll find a way to have fun.”
“That remains to be seen,” he replied as we got out of my Jeep and made our way to the front door of the lobby.
There was just one problem, though.
It was locked when we tried to open it, and the entire lobby was dark.
I pulled out my cell phone, forgetting that we were in a dead zone of service, but I couldn’t get a signal to call any of my friends.
Maybe we wouldn’t be going to the party after all.
CHAPTER 5
“What should we do?” I asked Jake as we stood at the darkened door.
“Is turning around and going home an option?” he asked me gently.
At that moment, I saw someone approaching us with a flashlight in their hands. The stranger was two steps from the door when the entire lobby lit up, showing that it was a security guard.
“Sorry about that,” the heavyset man apologized as he unlocked the door and let us in. “Sometimes the motion sensors for the lights in the lobby don’t catch on that somebody’s there immediately. Are you with the Martin party?”
“We are,” I said. “I’m Suzanne Hart, and this is Jake Bishop.”
“Come on in and I’ll check the list,” he said as he stepped aside.
After we were inside, he locked the door solidly behind us, and I could see that it was comprised of solid steel, not the lesser aluminum I’d been expecting to find.
“Is that really necessary?” Jake asked him.
“Sorry, but I’ve got strict orders to keep the outside door locked at all times.” As he moved to the desk, the lights in the lobby flickered for a few moments and then came back on at full strength.
“The motion detectors again?” I asked him.
“No, that was because of the main line. This weather is playing havoc with our power.”
“Is this building safe to be in?” I asked him.
“Oh, she may seem a little vulnerable when the lights flicker on and off like that, but she’s strong. Don’t worry. The entire first floor glass is not only shatterproof, it’s bulletproof, too. The locks are state of the art, made from heavy steel, and it would take a man with a blowtorch eight hours to get through them. Once this place is locked down, nobody or nothing short of a stick of dynamite is going to get through,” he said. Was that meant to reassure me? It felt as though we were about to be imprisoned in a modern-day cell. “Here you are,” he said as he scanned the list, using his heavy finger to mark his speed. “You’re the last two to arrive. I’m glad you made it. I’m late for my supper as it is, and if I know my wife, she’s already started without me.”
“Does that mean that you won’t be staying?” I asked him.
“No, my shift ended ten minutes ago. Don’t worry, though. You’ll be plenty safe upstairs.”
As he led us to the elevator, he punched the button, but it didn’t light up immediately. The guard had to hit it three more times before it responded to his summons, each strike harder than the last.
“Does it always do that?” Jake asked him, a little concern creeping into his voice.
“Just when the power’s acting up,” he said nonchalantly.
“I’m not sure I even want to get on this elevator,” I told Jake as the doors opened.
“Suit yourself. It’s twelve flights of steps up though, and the door locks in the stairwells are a bit finicky. They’ve got some kind of electronic gizmos on them. If you ask me, I’ll take an old-fashioned lock that uses a key any day of the week.”
I thought about climbing those stairs with our bags and finally decided to trust the elevator after all. “Come on, Jake,” I said as I stepped inside.
“Are you sure?” he asked me.
“Why not? After all, what’s life without a little adventure?” I asked him, trying my best to put on a brave face.
As we got in the elevator, I saw that the guard was already heading for the exit.
It appeared that this party wouldn’t be chaperoned, so it was going to be up to all of us to make sure things didn’t take a dark turn in the course of the weekend.
“Hello, Suzanne. I’m so glad you could come. You must be Jake?” Elizabeth asked as she met us at the elevator, first smiling at me and then offering her hand to my husband.
“How did you know we were here?” I asked her as she took our coats.
“Benny isn’t good for much, but he can at least use the intercom,” she said.
“This place is lovely,” I said as I looked around. The wide-open entry area had been decorated perfectly, with just the right amount of furniture, rugs, lamps, and art to make it look as though it had been ripped from the pages of a design magazine. The floors were made from some kind of exotic hardwood, and the art hanging from the walls looked as though it was worth more than my donut shop.
“It should be, for what it cost to build and furnish,” she said. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your suite. We hired a full staff to work the entire weekend, but it seems the possibility of bad weather has kept nearly all of them from coming.”
“We’d be happy to pitch in and help,” I offered.
“Hopefully it won’t come to that, but I appreciate the offer.” After Elizabeth led us down a long hallway, I noticed that there were some friendly faces, as well as people I didn’t know, standing around a piano as a woman sat there playing rather well. I caught Jennifer and Hazel’s gazes for a quick moment each, but they merely nodded and stayed where they were. Neither woman looked particularly at ease, and I had to wonder if Jake and I might have missed something already.
“Is everything all right?” I asked Elizabeth gently.
“It’s fine. Just fine,” she said, clearly lying to me.
“Elizabeth,” I said sternly as Jake pulled a little ahead of us. I wasn’t about to let her dismiss my question so cavalierly.
“Later, Suzanne,” she said. “Please?”
“Of course,” I said, wondering what had already rattled her so much. After we passed the living room space, I noticed a large, formal dining area. I was going to need a map to show me around this place. Elizabeth finally led us into another open space, where a series of doors stood closed along a perpendicular hallway. “This is your suite,” she said as she led us into an elegant space that was nicer, and larger, than the entire first floor of our cottage. It, too, had been decorated with only the best furnishings. It came as no surprise to me that I felt instantly out of place in the sophisticated decor. After all, my cottage was filled with old furniture that didn’t match, battered old hardwood floors that needed to be sanded, stained, and finished, and a fireplace that could use a good scrubbing. In other words, for Jake and me, it was the perfect cozy space, the antithesis of all of this opulence.
“What do you think?” Elizabeth asked me, obviously proud of the space.
“It’s lovely,” I replied.
She grinned at me slightly, and I could see my friend’s true nature return, if only for an instant. “I don’t like it, either. It’s all a bit oppressive, isn’t it? I prefer French Provincial myself.”
To me, that style was just as stuffy as this one was, but I wasn’t about to insult my hostess by saying so. “Really, I think it’s great,” I said, forcing myself to show some enthusiasm. “How about you, Jake? What do you think?”
“It’s fine,” he said, spending his words as though they cost him money. I’d been hoping for a little more from him, but I’d take what I could get.
Elizabeth instructed us, “If you’d like to freshen up, feel free to join us in the living room whenever you’re ready. Candida is favoring the group
with music.”
“Is she part of the planned entertainment?” I asked.
“No,” Elizabeth said with a frown. “She’s one of our guests my husband chose to invite at the last minute.”
It was clear that Elizabeth hadn’t been consulted about the late additions, or approved of them, either. “Got it. We won’t be long,” I said. Before she could go though, I grabbed her arm lightly. “We’re still going to have that talk a little later, okay?”
“That’s fine,” Elizabeth said in a faltering voice, and then she left us.
“That was odd,” I said once Jake and I were alone.
“She seemed a little distracted, but given the circumstances, it’s understandable, don’t you think?” he asked.
“I know that throwing a party of this magnitude must take a great deal of focus, but there’s more to it than that,” I said. “I wonder if her husband has been up to his old tricks again?”
All Jake could manage to do was shrug. “I wouldn’t know. We’re here, Suzanne, and we’ll do what we can to keep things under control, but it’s not in our power to save her marriage.”
“Maybe not, but we can at least watch her back and make sure she stays safe.”
“Really?” he asked me gently. “And how exactly are we going to accomplish that? We can’t exactly follow her around like a pair of lost puppies.”
“I don’t know how we’ll manage to protect her, but I’m sure we’ll think of something,” I said. “Now let’s hang up our party clothes and join the others. The sooner we get started figuring out what is going on here, the better.”
“Sorry we didn’t come over and say hello when you arrived,” Jennifer said softly the second we joined her and Hazel, now positioned several feet away from the piano. They had clearly broken away from the main group, which was still intently listening to the woman who Elizabeth had referred to as Candida playing classical music. She seemed to be lost in her performance, not even noticing our arrival or the other women’s absences.
“We didn’t mean to be rude,” Hazel supplied softly.
“No need to apologize. What’s going on with Elizabeth?” I asked, dismissing their regrets. As far as I was concerned, none were needed. After all, we were friends, and that status brought with it a certain latitude in the niceties of normal social interaction.
Before either woman had a chance to reply, Jake said, “I’m just going to have a look around, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” I promised him.
Once he was out of earshot, Jennifer said, “Elizabeth won’t tell us what’s going on. When we first arrived, it was obvious that she’d been crying, but when we pressed her about it, she wouldn’t talk about it with either one of us.”
“This is bad, Suzanne. We’re supposed to have a formal dinner this evening and then dancing afterwards, but I’m not sure anyone is in the mood for a party right now,” Hazel said. “Will you try to get her to speak with you about what’s going on?”
“I already tried,” I admitted, “and I failed miserably, I might add. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do but go along with the planned schedule, at least for the moment. Once things settle down tomorrow morning, hopefully the three of us can get her off to one side and speak with her. Can you tell me anything about the other guests?”
Jennifer pointed to a dapper man with slicked-back black hair and wearing an elegant suit. He was poised protectively over the woman playing the piano, who was dark and brooding, but that might have just been her normal expression. I would say that she was pretty, in a severe kind of way. “That’s Bernard Mallory and his companion, Candida,” Hazel explained as she stressed the word. When she noticed me studying them again, and then her, she added, “Don’t look at me that way, Suzanne. That’s how we were introduced. Whether she’s his wife, his girlfriend, or his paid escort for the evening, I could not say. Evidently Bernard is the one responsible for most of Jason’s loans.”
“Does that mean that man over there is Jason’s childhood friend?” I asked as I pointed to an overweight man with graying hair. He was accompanied by a thin, rather prim woman with the iciest gaze I’d ever seen in my life.
“Yes, that’s Henry Jackson and his wife, Lara,” Hilda said softly.
“Wow, she doesn’t look happy about being here, does she?” I asked.
“Wait until you speak with her. It’s even worse. She’s been trying to get her husband to leave since the moment they arrived,” Jennifer said.
“Where are the others? I thought there would be more people.”
“Our husbands are off talking business,” Jennifer said. “They’ll be joining us shortly.”
“Cheyenne and Joan are still in their rooms,” Hazel said. “As I said earlier when we chatted at the donut shop, there were several other invitations sent out, but they all cancelled.”
“Was it really because of the weather?” I asked as I watched my husband hover around the edges of the group without really joining in.
“That’s the excuse they used, anyway,” Jennifer said.
“You mentioned two women still in their rooms. Are they a couple as well?”
“No, Cheyenne is Jason’s personal assistant,” Jennifer explained. “From what I understand, Joan was invited at the last minute as a way of making it less obvious that Cheyenne is clearly here at Jason’s insistence.”
“I can’t believe Elizabeth is allowing her to be here, especially since she suspects them of having an affair,” I said.
“That makes three of us,” Hazel said. “Jennifer and I agree with you. Oops, here comes Bernard and his companion. I didn’t even notice that she’d stopped playing. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on things in the kitchen.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jennifer added.
“Are you both just going to leave me here alone to face them?” I asked my friends with a smile.
“We wouldn’t dream of doing that to you. Look, Jake is coming over, too, so you won’t be alone. We’ll catch up more later, Suzanne. Good luck.”
I wasn’t sure why she was wishing me luck, but a few moments later, I got it.
Bernard and Candida turned out to be quite a pair.
As Jake joined me, they introduced themselves, and then Bernard looked at me and said, “You must be the famed donut maker I heard our hostess talking about. I’ve never met someone who made donuts for a living before.”
“Well, now you can say that you have,” I said, doing my best to smile at what I was certain wasn’t a compliment. “I understand you are a business associate of Jason’s.”
“Our paths have crossed occasionally in the past,” he said as breezily as he could muster. “How do you like the penthouse?”
“It’s certainly decorated to the nth degree, isn’t it?” I said, trying to be polite.
“That was all Candida’s doing,” Bernard said proudly. “She’s quite an interior designer, wouldn’t you say?”
“I like nice things,” Candida said, her stern expression breaking into a brief grin for a moment.
“That must be interesting, being a professional designer,” I said. “You’re clearly a woman of many talents.”
“Oh, I would never do it for the money. I took this project on as a favor to Bernard.” She narrowed her focus to Jake for a moment before speaking next, and I had the feeling she was trying to guess his weight by the way she was measuring him from head to toe. “You must be Jake. What exactly is it that you do?”
“I’m retired,” he said simply, not supplying any more information than he had to. When he wanted to be, my husband could be most circumspect.
“You seem awfully young to leave the workforce,” she said smoothly. “You must have done very well for yourself while you were gainfully employed.”
“Financially? No, not particularly,” Jake said bluntly. “I get by, but no one in their right mind would think that I was rich.”
At his declaration of limited assets, Candida appe
ared to lose all interest in my husband, which somehow pleased me. “Oh. That’s interesting,” she said, though it was obvious she didn’t find it particularly fascinating at all. “If you’ll excuse us, Bernard, we need to start getting ready for dinner.”
Her companion frowned at her for a moment before replying. “You go ahead. I need to have a word with Jason first.”
Her capacity for petulance was suddenly on full display. “Must you talk business this weekend?”
“It won’t take more than a minute,” he assured her before turning to us. “If you’ll excuse us?”
“Of course,” I said.
The moment they were gone, I told Jake, “Wow, she was really interested in you, wasn’t she?”
“Right up until the moment she realized that I was broke,” Jake answered with a smile. “Look at that.”
I glanced in the direction he was subtly gesturing and saw that Bernard and Jason were having a whispered conversation. I couldn’t make out their words, but their demeanors were clear enough. They were having a fight about something, even though neither man raised his voice the entire time. When Bernard finally broke away and headed for his suite, Jason looked shaken. “Should we press him now that he’s on edge?” I asked Jake.
“It might not be a bad idea at that,” he said, but before we could manage to get to him, the other couple present cut us off. Henry and Lara Jackson seemed to have impeccable timing, at least if their aim was to keep us from interrogating Jason Martin.
“You must be the couple we’ve all been waiting for,” the man said. “I’m Henry Jackson, and this is Lara, my wife.”
“It’s a lovely name. Was it taken from Dr. Zhivago? I loved the movie and the book when I was a teenager,” I said.
“It’s from my aunt, actually,” she answered sternly. “The truth is that I despise that movie because of my name. Now I know there’s a book to hate as well.”
My oh my, wasn’t she a bright bit of sunshine? “Are you and your aunt close?” I asked, trying to salvage at least something from the conversation.
