Til There Was U

by Dianne Castell

  Arthur’s eyes turned beady. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve got to get your hands on the bitch’s money or that precious family house of yours goes on the auction block along with everything you own.”

  Conrad raked his hair. “I know. Thelma likes that house as much as I do. Getting her to marry me shouldn’t be that much of a problem.”

  “Well, damn, now you’re talking with some sense. You got her, boy.” Arthur slapped him on the back. “Sell the damn car tomorrow, get her a stupid cheap ring and marry her tomorrow night. There’s no waiting period in Tennessee, just do it. Hand her some cock-and-bull story about not wanting to go on another day without her.”

  “What if she suspects something when I show up without the Ferrari? What if she refuses to go along with this quick marriage?”

  “It’s your fucking job to make sure she doesn’t suspect anything and make her believe she wants to marry you more than breathe. Keep her happy and make her feel like the queen bee. She’s just some brainless bimbo who wouldn’t know what to do with two million bucks, and she’s going to save your gold-plated ass. Marry her now, dammit!”

  “She’s smart, Arthur, real smart. And she’s not a damn bimbo.”

  Arthur swore. “You sure as hell better not be backing out on me, Conrad. Thelma McAllister is nothing but trailer trash, we both know that. I’m counting on my share of the take to get a nice condo in Memphis where I can live like I want when I’m not with Dolores. My sexual preference doesn’t bother her much as long as I keep making the big bucks, but she’ll raise a stink if I take our savings to support my lifestyle. Her keeping quiet about it is what’Il save my business. My clients are conservative. Me being gay won’t sit well with them, not well at all.”

  Arthur looked him in the eyes. “You better not fuck around with me on this, Conrad. I’m counting on you. If you don’t deliver what I want and follow the plan, you could be damn sorry you didn’t.”

  Conrad put his hands to his hips. “You threatening me, Billings?”

  “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you. Maybe you’re falling for the bitch, going soft, discovering a conscience or having second thoughts on screwing her out of the money.”

  Arthur put his face to Conrad’s. “You fuck this up and make life miserable for me, you can count on me returning the favor, you got me? Think about that. Think about your big fancy house on the hill getting sold ... or worse. And there is worse, Conrad. Trust me.”

  Arthur yanked loose his tie and got back in his car. He drove off, leaving Conrad in a cloud of dust, with a sick feeling deep in his gut. What the hell had he gotten himself into, and what the hell was he going to do about Thelma? “Fuck.”

  Chapter 15

  Thelma said good-bye to Conrad, then hung up the phone. She sat at the kitchen table and continued feeding Bonnie cereal and wondered what was wrong with the man? Something sure wasn’t right. He sounded . . . different.

  “Wow, what do you have cooking for dinner?” Effie asked as she came in. “Something sure smells good around here.”

  “Pulled pork’s in the oven, sourdough bread rising on the stove, chocolate cake for dessert.”

  Effie groaned and kissed her head. “You’re my hero. I should name a building after you. Thelma Towers sounds good. If Trump gets that honor for being rude, obnoxious and having bad hair, heaven knows you deserve it for being nice and pretty and an incredible cook.”

  Thelma offered Bonnie another spoonful of cereal, and Effie asked, “What’s up? You don’t seem your usual chipper self?”

  “This baby is the worst eater on the planet, and I just got off the phone with Conrad and something’s not right. I can tell. He was all serious like. I left him a few hours ago, and he was fine.” She remembered making love with him in the shower and in his big bed and knew he was more than fine then.

  “That is some blush you have going there, Thelma McAllister, and I doubt if it has anything to do with Bonnie not eating cereal and everything to do with Conrad.”

  She grinned. “Well, maybe a smidge, not that I’m admitting anything. I’m not a kiss-and-tell kind of gal. But something’s changed from this afternoon to now. Conrad wants me to come over to the house as soon as I can.”

  She put down the spoon and looked at Effie. “We were supposed to meet later on, but he says it’s important and he wants to see me right away because this can’t wait and . ..” Her eyes widened, and she swallowed. She stood and stared off into space, not really seeing anything as the most likely reason for Conrad wanting to see her hit home. “Oh, my stars, I... I think Conrad wants to ask me to marry him!”

  “Marry? Has Ryan talked to you about Conrad?”

  “Why?” She gasped. “Did Conrad go to Ryan and ask him for my hand?” She giggled. “That’s it, isn’t it! Isn’t that sweet of him! So traditional. Isn’t Conrad the best!”

  “Where’s Ryan now?”

  “He asked me to pretty-please make the pork and cake, then took off with Rory to Memphis to talk to that PI fellow.”

  She came around the table and put Bonnie in Effie’s lap. “I need to get over to Conrad’s right now.” She bit her bottom lip. “I can’t wait another minute. I’m going to be Mrs. Conrad Hastings. Isn’t this wonderful? I’m so excited.”

  She hugged Effie and laughed, then nearly cried. “I’m so happy I could bust. I love that dear man to death.”

  “But Thelma, you . . . I.. . You need to take things slow, Thelma. Talk to Conrad, ask him right out why he’s marrying you.”

  She beamed. “Because he loves me, that’s why! I’ll call you.”

  “We have to talk, Thelma. You and me. Right now.”

  “I don’t have time. I’m getting married to the man I love most in this world.” Thelma turned and waved as she snagged her purse from the sideboard in the hallway and hurried out the door, skipping all the way to her car. She hadn’t skipped since ... kindergarten. Life was wonderful. Life was great. Life was full of incredible surprises, and marrying Conrad was the biggest and best surprise of all. She laughed as she slid into the Sunflre and tore for Hastings House.

  The sun dropped toward the levee. The Landing never looked more lovely than it did today. She slid in a CD of the Beach Boys, cranked it full volume and sang along to “Do You Wanna Dance” because that’s exactly what she felt like doing. She pulled up behind Conrad’s Ferrari and continued singing as she boogied her way inside without knocking. There wasn’t time for formalities. The man she loved, the man she’d waited for all her life, was waiting for her. “Conrad? Oh, Conrad, darling, where are you?” She danced around in little circles in the hallway. “Where are you, my big hunk of wonderful man?”

  “I’m right here, Thelma,” Conrad said as he came into the hallway. “What are you doing?”

  She snagged him around the waist. “I’m dancing with you.” She kissed him. “Because I love you more than anything on earth.” Except he didn’t look like a man in love. In fact. . . She stopped dancing. “You look awful.” Her heart sank, her insides shriveled. “What’s wrong, Conrad?”

  He took her hand. “I need to talk to you, and it’s really important. I need to tell you—”

  “That he’s been playing you like a well-tuned fiddle,” said a man with a loose-hanging tie who walked toward her out of the kitchen.

  Conrad snarled, “Get out of here, Billings. How’d you get here in the first place?”

  “Came up the back path and waited in your kitchen. I thought you might try something like this, something underhanded, and I am not going anywhere ‘til I have a little talk with Thelma here.”

  He turned to her, making her breath freeze in her lungs from his icy stare. “You should know—”

  “Don’t do this, Arthur,” Conrad demanded. “I’ll get your stinking money for you and—”

  “That you’re an heiress,” the man continued, paying no attention to Conrad. “Two million dollars, to be exact, and Conrad here was courting you to get his hands on it. F
act is, I’d say he was asking you here now to propose. You see, Conrad’s flat broke, and all he wants from you is a meal ticket and a cushy life.”

  Thelma felt all the blood drain from her face. “I don’t believe you. Conrad loves me, he said so.”

  Arthur gave her a pathetic look. “What he loves is your money.”

  “Shut up, Arthur,” Conrad hissed.

  Arthur shrugged. “I came here to warn you. I didn’t know what Conrad was up to ‘til I heard him making plans with someone at our office and thought it my duty as a partner in the firm to save you from him.”

  Arthur looked at Conrad. “Now that Ms. McAllister knows all about you, my mission is complete.”

  Thelma shook her head. “I... I don’t believe you at all.”

  “You don’t have to,” Arthur continued. “In two or three days you’ll get the legal notification that Clyde Pierce was a multimillionaire and left his fortune to you for your great kindness when he was ill. He wrote his will in his own hand and put it in his safety-deposit box that was opened after his death. The will had to be authenticated by several experts in Washington, but that should be complete very soon.”

  Arthur turned to Conrad. “It gives me great satisfaction to know that Conrad will not succeed at his little ruse. I’m deeply sorry about this, but at least you have your inheritance and know the truth.”

  Numb, Thelma studied Conrad as Arthur retreated back down the hall, the rear door closing after him with a soft click. She wanted to laugh, tell Conrad she didn’t believe a word that this Arthur guy just said, but the stricken look on Conrad’s face told her every word was gospel truth. “Why? For money. All this over money?”

  “It’s not the way Arthur said, least not all of it.”

  “What did I ever do to you for you to hate me this much, to hurt me so ...” She suddenly couldn’t speak.

  Conrad spread his arms and pleaded, “I’m sorry, Thelma. God, I’m sorry. I asked you over here to tell you what Arthur just told you. I wanted you to hear it from me and plead for your forgiveness. This was all his idea. He knew about the inheritance and I am truly broke and he wanted a cut if I could pull this off. But something happened along the way. I fell for you. I. . . love you. I truly do, and when Arthur realized I wasn’t going through with the plan he got revenge by telling you first.”

  She scoffed. “What a load of crap, Conrad. Why should I believe any of it? You’ve done nothing but lie to me from the beginning. The very beginning.”

  “It’s the truth. I swear.”

  She forced herself to pull in a deep, steadying breath. “I’m not going to cry, Conrad.”

  “That’s good. That’s really good. I don’t want you to cry over something I did.”

  She walked to the sideboard, and Conrad said, “A drink is a good idea. I can pour you one, and then we can have a long talk and work this out.”

  “I’m not looking for alcohol. I’m looking for a gun.”

  “Gun!”

  “All Southern homes have firearms in their sideboards. I know that, and so do you.”

  “A... a gun?”

  She snagged a derringer and held the cold bit of steel in her palm as she turned to Conrad.

  “Damn, Thelma, you can’t shoot me. I’m not worth going to prison over.”

  She laughed, and it sounded very controlled, surprising the hell out of herself. “Honey man, no jury in the grand state of Tennessee would ever convict poor little old me after learning what a total bastard you are. Hell, Conrad, they’d probably give me a goddamn medal.”

  She took aim and pulled the trigger as Conrad dove behind the settee, the blast sounding like a cannon explosion instead of a derringer as the bullet shattered a vase on the cherry piecrust table. “Oops, I hope that wasn’t Ming.”

  “Thelma! For Christsake!”

  “Come out from behind there, you lily-livered, dirty rotten son of a bitch. I don’t want to hurt another priceless antique trying to make you look like a piece of Swiss cheese. Come out right now.”

  “Thelma, stop!”

  “I don’t think so.” She rounded the settee and caught his ashen face in her crosshairs as she took aim between his beady little eyes. “Kiss your sorry ass good-bye, Conrad. Because now it belongs to me.”

  “Shit! Thelma! Shit!”

  She aimed and pulled the trigger and put a hole in the floor beside him. Then she dropped the two-shot derringer to the floor and strutted away. “Those misses were on purpose. To pay you back for what you did to me. Now you know what it feels like to be the prey. I hope I scared the hell out of you, Conrad,” she called to him. “Because you sure as hell had it coming.”

  Then she closed the big front door of Hastings House behind her, got in her car, put the Sunfire in reverse and backed into the Ferrari, leaving a little love dent in the fender before she drove off into the blazing sunset.

  ———

  Effie paced the front porch, not only to help coax a burp from Bonnie, but because of what Thelma could be facing at Conrad’s right this minute. Proposal? Marriage? Elopement! Oh, Lord, not elopement. It all sounded great on the surface, but trouble was brewing. Something wasn’t right, and Thelma was a babe in the woods when it came to men, especially a conniving, sophisticated asshole like Conrad Hastings.

  That man could take advantage of Thelma and she’d never suspect before it was too late. But why would he? What was this all about? If Effie knew that little tidbit of info, she could put a stop to it before Thelma got hurt.

  Obviously Ryan thought all was fine here in Happy Valley! Why didn’t he warn Thelma?

  The Sunfire turned into the drive, spitting gravel in all directions, pulling to a stop in front of the house. Thelma got out and kicked a stick across the yard. “Damn that man! I hope his sorry hide rots in hell for all eternity!”

  Cradling Bonnie close so as not to jar her, Effie hurried out to the car. “Oh, God, what happened?”

  “Lots.” Thelma swept back her hair. “I’ll give you the good news first. Seems that I’m an heiress, two million dollars’ worth to be exact. The bad news is I didn’t put a hole right between Conrad’s eyes for trying to swindle me out of it.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Missed. Didn’t have the guts to do him in. ‘Tis a pity.”

  “Holy crap! You pulled a gun on him?”

  Thelma shrugged. “It’s the South, dear. We do things a tad different than in California, like settle trouble ourselves and call the sheriff later and say ‘Oh, my, whatever have I done? Lordy me.’ Then do a Southern swoon. The swoon is a nice touch.”

  Thelma leaned against the car and let out a lungful of air. “How do women go from man to man? This was just one in my life, and he done wore me out. Sucked the life’s blood right out of me, damn him. You know, it’s not the years that turn a woman gray; it’s the damn men.”

  “Amen.” Effie thought of Ryan and how much easier her life would be without him complicating the hell out of it. She looked down at Bonnie. “Are you taking notes on this, little girl? You should. Save yourself a ton of heartache.”

  Rory’s Suburban turned into the drive and pulled to a stop behind Thelma’s car. Ryan got out, then Rory, and they strolled over. Rory took Bonnie in his big arms. “There’s my sweet pea.”

  Thelma said, “Any news on Mimi?”

  Rory tucked Bonnie into the crook of his arm and kissed her head. “PI guy never showed. Called, said he had a lead and would meet us here tomorrow night with pictures of guys flashing Mimi’s photo around towns along the river. We’re not the only ones looking for her. We need to get these guys and find out what the hell’s going on.”

  Ryan looked from Effie to Thelma. “What’s going on with you two? You both look like you could chew nails.”

  Effie lifted her left brow. “Well, let’s see. Where to begin? Thelma fired two shots at Conrad, missing both times, and at the moment we’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad one.” She peered hard at Ryan. “
Thought you were going to talk to Thelma about Conrad or Conrad about Thelma or something.”

  Ryan’s brows disappeared into his hair, and he gaped at Thelma. “Good God! You shot Conrad?”

  She shrugged. “At Conrad. Seems I inherited a potful of money from Clyde Pierce.” She wagged her head. “Who would have thought? Sure wish he’d bought himself a decent home to live in rather than leave his money to me. Anyway, Conrad knew about it and tried to marry me to get his hands on it because he’s broke. I probably would have done it, too—married him, I mean—until some guy named Arthur showed up and clued me in before Conrad could pop the question.”

  Rory said, “Well, dang, girl. You did have yourself some kind of day. Thank God you didn’t marry the scalawag. Didn’t think Conrad had that much meanness in him. Least he didn’t rob you blind.”

  “No thanks to Ryan,” Effie added, glaring his way.

  Ryan folded his arms. “Hey, how the hell was I to know Conrad would pull a crazy stunt like that? The man’s done some crummy stuff in his time, mostly conceited, arrogant stuff, but never anything like this. And, for some reason, I honestly felt he was changing.”

  Effie poked him in the chest with her index finger and gazed into his eyes. “Thelma could have eloped with him tonight; then she’d have been in way too deep and never believed he was up to no good.”

  Bonnie started to fuss, and Rory held her up and blew bubbles on her tummy. “Least then Thelma would have been ready for him and not missed when she got him in her sights.” He winked at Thelma. “Shotgun?”

  Thelma sighed. “Derringer.”

  “Can’t do much damage with a peashooter like that. Wanna borrow the Winchester? She’s in my closet ready for action.”

  Effie noticed that sadness had replaced the anger showing in Thelma’s eyes a few moments ago. Effie hooked her arm through Thelma’s. “We’re heading over to Slim’s. This is one of those nights to drink our dinner and talk girl talk.”