Absolutely, Positively

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “I’m Heloise Stickley.” Heloise glanced at Tessa, who was just returning from the storage room with a sack of green peppercorns. “Hi, Tessa.”

  “Heloise. You made it.” Tessa looked at Molly with an air of determination. “Molly, this is my friend, the inventor. You know, the one who plays bass guitar for Ruby Sweat?”

  Molly got a sinking sensation in her stomach. “The one who wants to apply to the Abberwick Foundation for grant money?”

  “You got it.” Tessa beamed at Heloise. “Did you bring your sketches and notes?”

  Heloise nodded. She cast another nervous glance at Molly. “I promise I won’t take up much of your time, Ms. Abberwick.”

  “This is about some sort of device designed to measure paranormal brain waves, isn’t it?” Molly said slowly.

  Heloise came forward eagerly. “I’m on to something here, Ms. Abberwick. I’d really appreciate it if you’d give me a few minutes to explain my theories. No one else will even listen to me.”

  Molly sighed. “Come with me.”

  She led the way into her office. Heloise followed, her face aglow with enthusiasm and excitement.

  A three o’clock the following afternoon it dawned on Harry that something in his environment was not functioning in a normal manner. He slowly surfaced from the deep pile of notes he was making for his paper on Francois Arago’s work in light and optics. It took him a moment to figure out what was bothering him. Then it hit him.

  The private line phone had not rung all day.

  Because he had intended to devote himself to the paper on Arago, he had set the answering machine on his business line to take messages. He had turned off the ringer so that he would not be bothered by incoming calls.

  But he had not turned off the private line. Everyone in the family knew that when he was at home, he was available.

  There had not been a single call on his private line all day. An unusual turn of events. Harry could not remember the last occasion when he had gone an entire day without a phone call from someone in one or the other of his extended clans.

  It was not as if everything had quieted down. On the Stratton side, Danielle was still fretting over Brandon’s decision to seek funding from a venture capitalist. Parker was fuming about Brandon’s intentions and demanding to have input into the decision-making process. For his part, Brandon was trying to get his grandfather off his back.

  Gilford was annoyed because he blamed Harry for having upset Parker. Olivia was dropping dark hints that Harry and Molly should seek couples counseling before they got married. Yesterday she had called to give him the names of two more psychologists.

  On the Trevelyan side, Evangeline had begun a campaign to convince Harry to help her find financing for a new thrill ride. Josh had been calling in regular reports of Leon’s progress. Raleigh had let it be known that he was out of money again and the baby was due at any moment.

  No question about it, Harry thought, the private line phone should have rung sometime during the day. He leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and contemplated the unnaturally silent telephone.

  His gaze settled on the phone cord that was discreetly draped over the side of the desk. He followed it with his eye to the point where it disappeared behind a reading chair.

  After a moment he got to his feet and walked to the chair. He looked behind it and saw that the phone cord was lying on the floor. Someone had disconnected it from the telephone jack on the wall.

  Harry was very certain that he had not accidentally unplugged the phone. He was equally sure that Ginny would not have made such a mistake while cleaning.

  It did not take long to narrow the range of possibilities.

  Harry reconnected the phone cord to the wall jack. Then he went back to his desk, picked up the receiver, and dialed the number of his business line.

  He waited for his own prerecorded message to come on the line. He was not unduly surprised when he heard Molly’s voice instead of his own.

  You have reached the office of Dr. Harry Stratton Trevelyan. If you are calling on a business matter, please stay on the line and leave a message after the beep. If you are a member of his family on either the Stratton or the Trevelyan side, and you are calling this number because you cannot get through on his private line, please dial the following number immediately. You will receive extremely urgent and vital information which will directly impact your life.

  Harry listened to the phone number that Molly rattled off at the end of the message. He recognized it at once. It belonged to the Abberwick Tea & Spice Company.

  Molly had found a way to reroute all of his family calls to her shop.

  Harry stood quietly for a long time, phone in hand, and wondered what the hell was going on. Life with the daughter of a genius inventor was definitely not going to be dull.

  The phone on the desk in Molly’s office warbled loudly. She ignored the insistent summons while she finished ringing up a sale. The customer was a writer who lived near Seattle. She came in regularly to buy great quantities of the special blend of tea that Molly had created for her.

  “Thanks, Ann.” Molly handed over the packet of tea. “See you next month.”

  Ann smiled. “I’ll be back. Can’t sit down in front of the word processor without a pot of my special blend.”

  Tessa leaned through the doorway of the office. “Phone for you, Molly.”

  “Thanks, Tessa.”

  Molly hurried into her office and took the receiver from Tessa’s hand. “This is Molly Abberwick. How can I help you?”

  There was a short, charged silence on the other end of the line.

  Molly?” Olivia’s voice reverberated with outrage. “What on earth do you think you’re doing? Where’s Harry?”

  “Harry is busy at the moment.”

  “Put him on the line. I want to speak with him. This is a family matter.”

  “Sorry. Harry is not available.”

  Molly perched on the edge of her desk and idly swung one leg. This was the fourth family call that she had taken since she had unplugged Harry’s private line and inserted her own message into the answering machine attached to his business line.

  She knew that he had intended to turn off the business line that morning in order to work. But he never turned off the private line. She had, therefore, disconnected it so that any Stratton or Trevelyan seeking to get through to Harry would be forced to try his business line. Whereupon said caller would get her message and call her, instead.

  Word was spreading quickly through the Stratton and Trevelyan clans. Thus far she had dealt with Brandon, Evangeline, and Danielle. “This is ridiculous,” Olivia snapped. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you exactly what I have told the others who called. I’m giving the Strattons and Trevelyans a small sample of the power I shall wield once Harry is married to me.”

  “Power.”

  “Precisely.” Molly smiled into the phone. “As his wife I shall be in a unique position to limit access to Harry.”

  “Is this some sort of stupid joke?”

  “I promise you, I am very, very serious,” Molly assured her. “Today I merely made it difficult to reach Harry by phone. But if my demands are not met, there will be worse to come. I can and will make it virtually impossible to gain access to Harry.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “What an odd question from someone in your line of work. No, I am not out of my mind, but I am determined to get what I want. Be warned, if the Strattons and Trevelyans fail to comply with my demands, I shall find ways to make it extremely difficult for anyone on either side of his family to get to Harry.”

  “I don’t understand.” Olivia was clearly nonplussed now. “This makes no sense at all.”

  “I shall present my demands to representatives of the Stratton and Trevelyan clans tomorr
ow at noon. I guarantee that everything will make perfect sense then.”

  “Harry is going to hear about this,” Olivia threatened.

  “Not if you and the others want to continue to have reasonably free access to him, he won’t,” Molly warned sweetly. “As I was saying, I shall present my demands tomorrow. High noon at the vegetarian restaurant around the corner from my shop. Be there or face the consequences.”

  Molly hung up the phone before Olivia could suggest she get professional psychiatric help.

  20

  The Strattons were the first to arrive.

  Molly stood at the head of the long table in the alcove of the trendy vegetarian restaurant and watched as Danielle, regal in her disapproval, led the contingent.

  “This is an absolute outrage,” Danielle declared.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hughes.” Molly inclined her head. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “You were impossibly rude on the phone, Miss Abberwick,” Danielle informed her. “As far as I’m concerned, you issued a threat.”

  “You were right,” Molly said. “It was a threat.”

  She deduced that the two men following Danielle were Parker and his son, Gilford. Their ages and signature bone structure identified them as clearly as a fingerprint. Both men radiated icy anger. Olivia and Brandon brought up the rear. Each wore an expression of great caution.

  “Good afternoon.” Molly waved the newcomers to the chairs that lined the left-hand side of the table. “Please be seated.”

  Parker’s silvered brows came together in a straight line above his patrician nose. “We know who you are. I’m Parker Stratton.”

  “Yes.” Molly smiled. “We spoke on the phone this morning. You wanted to know what the hell I was up to, I believe.”

  “Now, you listen to me, young woman,” Parker snapped, “I have better things to do with my time than play stupid games. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but if it’s money you’re after, you can damn well—”

  “It’s not about money, Granddad,” Brandon said quietly. He watched Molly with speculative eyes. “Whatever this is all about, it’s not about cash. Ms. Abberwick has plenty of that at her disposal.”

  Olivia went to one of the chairs on the left side of the table. “I’ll tell you what this is all about. It’s about power and control. Isn’t that right, Molly? You think you can exert both over the rest of us because of your position as Harry’s fiancée.”

  Molly gripped the back of her chair. She kept her smiled fixed determinedly in place. “Have a seat, Olivia. You can psychoanalyze me later to your heart’s content. But please don’t send me a bill.”

  “No one controls a Stratton, by God,” Gilford said evenly. “Ms. Abberwick, I’m a busy man. I’m here today only because you made it clear that there is some sort of family crisis. You’ve got exactly five minutes to convince me of that.”

  Molly looked at him. “Have a seat, Mr. Stratton. I will explain everything.” She glanced toward the door as the next group of people arrived.

  Danielle opened her mouth to speak and then closed it abruptly as her gaze fell on the newcomers who hovered in the doorway. She stared as if she could not believe her eyes. “My God. How dare they intrude like this.”

  “What the devil?” Parker swung around to see what had alarmed Danielle. His eyes widened with fury. “Christ Almighty. What are they doing here?”

  Molly looked at the cluster of Trevelyans who had arrived. She saw at once that she’d managed to get a fairly good turnout. Josh had been no problem, of course. He had agreed to come without hesitation. But she was secretly relieved to see Leon, who was still on crutches, and Raleigh and Evangeline with him.

  Evangeline, as statuesque and commanding in a skirted suit as she had been in her colorful fortune-teller’s garb, swept through the room full of Strattons. Then she glowered at Molly.

  “You didn’t say anything about them being here.”

  “There’s a lot I haven’t had a chance to explain yet, Evangeline.” Molly indicated the chairs on the right-hand side of the table. “But everything will soon become clear. Please sit down.”

  Parker looked as if he were about to explode. He made for the door. “I’ll be damned if I’ll sit across the table from that lot of thieving Trevelyans.”

  Leon’s face twisted with fury. He lifted one crutch and swung it across the doorway, effectively barring Parker’s escape. “You’re not going anywhere, you old son-of-a-bitch. If us thieving Trevelyans have to sit through this, so do you goddamned prissy, high-toned Strattons.”

  “Prissy?” Parker beetled his brows at Leon. “Just who are you calling prissy, you bastard?”

  “Enough.” Molly banged a spoon against the glass in front of her. “You will all sit down right now. I don’t particularly care whether or not you eat the lunch I have ordered and paid for, but you will sit and you will listen to me. Or else none of you will ever have ready access to Harry again.”

  The roomful of Strattons and Trevelyans turned on her, momentarily united in their fury.

  “I fail to see why you think that you hold some sort of club over the rest of us,” Danielle said. “Harry is a Stratton. He’s a blood relative. You can’t keep us from contacting him whenever we wish.”

  “Oh, yes, I can,” Molly retorted. “I proved as much yesterday when I disconnected his private line. That was nothing, I assure you. The possibilities are virtually limitless when it comes to cutting you off from Harry. Now sit down. All of you.”

  They sat. Grudgingly, reluctantly, refusing to make eye contact with the people who sat across from them, both groups sat down at the table.

  Molly alone remained standing. She surveyed the irate faces turned toward her. Only Josh looked at her with a trace of amused anticipation in his expression. She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “Get on with it,” Leon muttered.

  “Very well.” Molly tightened her grip on the back of her chair. “I shall come straight to the point. I have two demands. If they are both met, I shall allow contact with Harry to resume. I cannot promise you that I will not occasionally limit that contact if I feel it has become abusive, but I will not make it impossible for you to reach Harry as I did during the past twenty-four hours.”

  Parker scowled. “What makes you think that access to Harry is so damned important to any of us?”

  “The fact that you’re all here makes me think that.” Molly released her hold on the chair and began to walk slowly around the long table. “Harry is important to both the Strattons and the Trevelyans. Vitally important. You have all found ways to use him, have you not?”

  Olivia eyed her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Molly clasped her hands behind her back. “Let us return to those forgotten days of yesteryear when Harry first arrived here in Seattle. That would have been about seven years ago, I believe. He had lost his parents less than a year before that. He had no brothers or sisters. He was not married. In effect, he was alone in the world. He came here in search of his blood kin.”

  “Wrong,” Gilford said. “He came here because he got a grant to do research in the history of science at the UW.”

  Molly glanced at him. “The type of grant which Harry received did not stipulate where he should do his research. He had a choice of several prestigious universities. He came here because he had roots here. The Stratton side of his family has lived in Seattle for three generations. The Trevelyans have made Washington their home base for years.”

  Olivia drummed her polished fingers on the table. “Harry once told me that he stayed on here after he completed his grant work because he liked Seattle. He said that he had developed a good network of academic contacts in the local colleges and universities. He said it was a good place for him to establish himself professionally.”

  “He could have done that anywhere
.” Molly shook her head. “No, he stayed in the area because by the time he had finished his grant, he had found a place for himself in both the Stratton and Trevelyan families.”

  Parker bridled. “He made it damned clear he wanted no part of his Stratton heritage.”

  “That’s not true,” Molly said quietly. “The only thing he didn’t want was the Stratton money.”

  “It’s the same thing,” Parker grumbled.

  “No, Mr. Stratton, it’s not. At least, not to Harry.” Molly made her way around the end of the table and started up the Stratton side of the room.

  Gilford frowned. “When Harry told us that he refused to join the company, he as much as told us that he considered himself more Trevelyan than Stratton.”

  “He is more Trevelyan than Stratton,” Evangeline announced triumphantly.

  “Damn right,” Raleigh put in helpfully. “Got the reflexes. And Granny Gwen always said she thought he had the Sight.”

  Olivia grimaced. “For God’s sake, could we please keep this conversation in the realm of reality? Harry has a disorder, not paranormal abilities.”

  Evangeline deigned to fix her with a freezing glare. “Just because you don’t believe in such things doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

  “I certainly don’t believe in that psychic nonsense,” Olivia shot back. “No reasonably well-educated person does believe in it, and that includes Harry, himself.”

  “Now see here—” Leon began.

  “That’s enough on that topic,” Molly interrupted forcefully. “Whether or not Harry has paranormal abilities has nothing to do with this discussion. Harry is in Seattle because he wants to be involved with both his Stratton and Trevelyan relatives. He wants what his parents longed for and never got—an end to the feud.”

  Leon shot Parker a scathing look. “The Strattons started it.”

  Parker gave a muffled squawk. “Why you washed up, no-good, sneaky bastard—”

  Molly paused to bang on Josh’s water glass with a fork. “I’m not finished here.”