And then it was time to look for Cinderella’s two evil stepsisters. The first pair of girls out on the stage did nothing but giggle. The next two couldn’t read all their lines. Two more little girls came out and read the lines in a monotone. Eleanor couldn’t find anything wrong with the next pair, except that they just weren’t right for the parts. And then Allie and Meggie Ryan came onstage. Eleanor felt as stiff as the starch in her collar as she waited for them to begin. So much rested on the outcome of this afternoon. Jacob Ryan would be forced to address the areas of his daughters’ lives that were lacking if they got the parts. She’d seen the panic flare in his eyes when she’d mentioned costumes. He might have mastered things a lot of men never tackle, but she’d bet ten years of her life that he couldn’t sew.
Allie stumbled over her first line. Ms. Thomas, this year’s casting director, had to help her with the word “and.” Eleanor’s brow creased. For a second Allie seemed more interested in the stage lights than the play, but then she started to read again. The word “sister” came out without a hitch, yet she couldn’t sound out “but.” Eleanor slipped her feet back into her shoes. Allie continued, getting caught up in her part for a line or two. Then, as if remembering something, she faltered briefly. When she began again, she imposed enough sugar on an evil passage to raise the casting director’s eyebrows. Meggie giggled throughout the audition, a forced unnatural sound. Eleanor stood up.
Jessie Ryan was onstage, a potential Cinderella, by the time Eleanor made it backstage. She watched Jessie trip over her feet, pick a fight with her prince and lose her place in her script. Ms. Thomas had to tell Jessie to speak up at least twice, and Eleanor was frustrated enough to cry.
The auditions were finally completed; as the children were leaving, Ms. Thomas reminded them that she’d be making her choices within the week. Eleanor couldn’t stand still another minute. She grabbed Jessie as the little girl walked past, then rounded up Allie and Meggie. One look at their principal, and their guilt was written all over their young faces. They stood in a line before her, shoulders slumped.
“Okay, gang. Who wants to tell me what’s going on?”
Meggie and Jessie looked toward Allie, whose face wore her determination like a cloak. “We just did our trying outs, Ms. Wilson,” Allie said innocently enough. But her lips were so tightly pursed her chin was solid dimples.
Eleanor looked from one pair of big brown eyes to the next and almost gave in. Blowing the auditions meant a lot to them. But they were wrong if they thought that was going to solve their problems.
She pinned Jessie with her sternest stare, knowing that the affectionate little girl would be the one most likely to cave in. Jessie’s lips started to tremble and she burst into tears. But she honored whatever pact she’d made with her sisters.
“Meggie?” Eleanor said, going for the other sibling who wasn’t quite as forceful as their leader.
Meggie stared back solemnly, doing a perfect imitation of a deaf-mute.
Eleanor’s heart ached as she faced the threesome, but she reminded herself, not for the first time, that sometimes tough love was the only answer.
“Girls,” she said in a no-nonsense tone, “I know what you’re doing here. And I think I have pretty good idea why. But do you really think your daddy will be happy to hear that you didn’t get picked for the play?”
“He won’t be mad at us,” Allie said, looking at her sisters.
“He will be when he realizes that you blew the auditions on purpose.”
Three horrified gazes locked onto Eleanor’s face. “Please don’t tell him, Ms. Wilson,” Allie begged, confirming Eleanor’s suspicions. “Daddy’s got troubles right now. Please don’t make him worried. We’ll be good, we promise. Won’t we, you guys?” Allie looked at her siblings.
Meggie and Jessie both nodded, Jessie’s eyes flooding with tears again. Meggie studied her tennis shoes.
Eleanor wanted to hug all three of them. “Do you promise me you’ll always try your best at whatever you do from now on?” she asked, keeping her tone properly firm.
“Yes, ma’am,” Allie answered, nodding vigorously.
Eleanor looked at the most independent one of the trio. “Meghan?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I promise, too, Ms. Wilson,” Jessie said in a wobbly little voice, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
Before she could give in to the temptation to pull them all into her arms, Eleanor saw an older woman enter the back of the auditorium. Wearing a flowered dress that hung halfway down her calves and black low-heeled shoes, Nonnie Moore made her way slowly toward the girls. The Ryans’ housekeeper was favoring her left hip more than she had the last time Eleanor had seen her.
The triplets danced around Nonnie, eager to be gone, and Eleanor watched uneasily as the elderly woman led them away. All three were talking at once while Mrs. Moore nodded occasionally. Eleanor didn’t doubt that the grandmotherly woman loved the girls. How could she not? But she suspected that the housekeeper didn’t hear even a third of what the triplets were telling her. Which may have been why they weren’t telling her anything important.
Eleanor went in search of Barbara Thomas.
* * *
“PICK YOU UP at seven?” Jacob asked Michelle the following Wednesday as they cleared off their workstation after the show.
“What?” Did Jacob have her confused with his date of the week?
“Childfair America’s tonight.” He’d stopped shuffling papers and was looking at her rather oddly.
“Oh. Right. I knew that,” Michelle said. “Seven’s fine.” She’d been the one to suggest that she and Jacob emcee the charity gala that was to benefit the fight against child abuse in Los Angeles.
“See you then,” Jacob said, and with one last look in her direction, left the studio.
“Yeah, see you,” Michelle said to the empty room. Why was she becoming so obsessed with Jacob Ryan these days? So he was a good-looking man. He’d been that way all the years she’d known him and it had never bothered her before. One trip to the girls’ department with him didn’t change things. She was still very much married, very much in love with her husband. And Jacob was still a womanizer. She needed to get a grip. Of course a little sleep might not hurt, either. If she wasn’t careful she was going to drive herself right back into the emotional mess she’d been in when Brian first disappeared.
* * *
THE RED LIGHT on her answering machine was blinking when, with Noby in her arms, she walked into her den an hour later. With trembling fingers, she reached out to press “play.”
“You know it’s just Mom,” she warned the cat.
“Frank Steele here, Mrs. Colby.” There was a pause, as if the detective was waiting to see if Michelle was going to pick up the phone.
“I’m on my way to a village in Afghanistan where your husband lived for almost a year about three years ago. No one’s saying yet why he was there or, for that matter, why he left. I’ll be in touch.”
Noby’s ears flicked when the machine clicked off, as if the sound were offensive to her. But the cat could just as easily have been reacting to the tears that were soaking her fur.
* * *
JACOB’S MIND was on his girls as he drove to Michelle’s that evening. They’d auditioned for Cinderella two days before and had been suspiciously quiet ever since—except to tell him that they didn’t get the parts. They’d obviously forgotten the flyer they’d brought home the Friday before the auditions. Not only had it listed their audition times, it had also stated it would be at least Thursday before any definite decisions were posted.
They were up to something. And Jacob was having a tough time trying to stay two steps ahead of them. Eleanor Wilson and her suspicions had Jacob second-guessing every move he made. If she’d just lef
t him alone Jacob would simply have asked Allie what was up. He and the girls had always kept everything out in the open. At least he had. And until recently he’d thought they had, too. Now he had to try to be a mind reader.
Shelving his worries for the moment, he pulled into Michelle’s driveway and honked, just as he always did when he picked her up for their occasional evening functions. Equally predictably he looked around at the run-down condition of her neighborhood, wondering why she didn’t move. It couldn’t be a matter of money. KOLR showed ample appreciation to both of them.
Curious when she didn’t come out, Jacob turned off the ignition and headed to her front door. He’d never been any farther than her driveway and was a little startled when he saw her doormat. Printed on it in large letters was “The Colbys.” And beneath that was “Brian and Michelle.” The mat was as faded and frayed as the rest of the neighborhood.
Jacob knocked and then, when there was no answer, knocked again. He was getting concerned. This wasn’t like Michelle. Wasn’t she home? He was just about to pound on her door for a third time when he heard the lock slide open. He waited for her to open the door, ready to tease her about spending hours primping for him. The words never got past his lips. Michelle was a wreck.
CHAPTER FOUR
STUNNED, JACOB STARED at Michelle’s tear-ravaged face. He was going to kill whoever had done this to her.
“I’m s-sorry. Come in,” she said, stepping back to let him by her.
Jacob strode in and grasped her arms. “What happened? Do I need to call a doctor?” he asked, looking her over from head to foot.
Michelle attempted to smile as she shook her head, but the gesture was too weak to do anything except concern Jacob more. “I’m okay. Really. I just need a couple of extra minutes.” Jacob might have believed her if her voice hadn’t cracked on the last word, and if she hadn’t still been wearing the jeans and shirt she’d had on at the station that morning. She was the one who’d insisted they dress to the nines for this evening. It had taken her several days of fresh doughnuts to talk him into pulling out his tuxedo for the occasion.
She turned away with an embarrassed toss of her head.
“What happened, Michelle?” he asked, following her into the living room. She had to turn on a light so they could see, and Jacob wondered if she’d been sitting there in the dark.
“Nothing, really. I had a phone call…” Her words trailed off. “Everything’s fine. It wasn’t bad news or anything. Please, have a seat. I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Jacob seriously doubted that.
He reached out to her again, grabbing her hand when she would have walked away from him.
“Michelle. It’s okay. So we’ll be a little late. Our part of the show doesn’t start until after dinner, anyway. So what was this phone call?”
She looked down at their interlocked hands, up at him and then down again. He’d never seen her anything but calm and unruffled before, and the misery he glimpsed in her eyes unnerved him.
“Come on. I don’t do too badly when the girls need a shoulder to cry on. Why don’t you give me a try?”
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she started to smile. “You’re not supposed to be this nice, Ryan. Where’s your sarcastic wit when I need it?”
He reached out a thumb to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I guess these knocked it clear out of me. What caused them?”
She looked at him for a long moment and then sat on the edge of the couch. A fluffy white cat slipped out from behind a chair and jumped into her lap. Michelle stroked it tenderly. “About a year ago I hired a private detective to find Brian.”
“But I thought the government was trying to find him.”
She took a deep breath. Her frustration ran so deep he could feel it across the small room. “The government didn’t want to spend any more money or waste any more time looking for him. But he’s never been found, Jacob. Five years ago he ordered room service, somebody ate it, and that’s the last anybody’s ever seen or heard of him. He’s not dead. I know he’s not.”
Jacob wasn’t so sure, but what did he know? “So you hired a detective.”
She nodded, still stroking the cat. “He called a couple of weeks ago to say he’d finally found someone who might know where Brian had been taken five years ago.”
“Taken? Does that mean he knows for sure that your husband was abducted?”
“No. Until today nothing was for sure.”
Jacob’s gut knotted. Was Brian Colby dead, after all? Was that what she was about to tell him?
“Until today?”
“There was a message from Frank Steele, the detective, when I got home from work this morning. He’s on his way to a village where Brian lived for at least a year.”
“Does he suspect Brian might still be there?”
Her lips started to tremble again as she shook her head. “Not for the last three years. I know the news isn’t very hopeful, but don’t you see?” Her eyes pleaded with Jacob to understand. “It’s the first real news I’ve had about him since he disappeared. Now I know that he wasn’t just robbed and murdered like the government said. For some reason he was living in this village for at least a year. Two years after his disappearance he was alive. I’ve been hoping for so long, Jacob. And when I heard from Frank today it was like touching Brian. For the first time in five years I touched him.” Her last words were barely audible through her tears.
Jacob couldn’t stand to see her so torn up. But he didn’t know how to help her. She was holding on to hope on the basis of three-year-old information. It seemed to him that her life was slipping away while she waited around for a man who could very well never be coming back to her. She was too beautiful, too sweet, too giving and funny to waste her life loving only a memory. And yet who was he to tell her that?
He watched her bowed head for as long as he could stand it, and then he pulled her to her feet.
“Come here,” he said, tugging her awkwardly toward him.
She came willingly, almost innocently, like a child seeking comfort, burrowing her face against his neck, wrapping her arms around him. Her tears stopped almost instantly, but still he held her. He kept thinking of her sitting on her couch, in the dark all alone, and he couldn’t let her go.
And as the minutes passed, as the tempest inside her calmed and she softened against him, it came to Jacob why he’d never held her before. There was no running from it, no more denying the hard truth. She was his partner. She was his buddy. But if he let himself, he could fall for her. He could so easily fall for another man’s wife.
* * *
“AND NOW, LADIES and gentlemen, I want to introduce two of L.A.’s favorites. They’ve appeared at countless charity functions over the years, giving their time generously to help build Los Angeles into the kind of city we all want it to be. Best known for their witty repartee that gets us all going in the morning, one of L.A.’s most beloved couples—except they claim they aren’t one—Michelle Colby and Jacob Ryan.”
Jacob ushered Michelle up onto the podium to the accompaniment of thundering applause, his hand burning where it touched her back. It had taken her an amazingly short time to change from the distraught woman who’d met him at the door to the elegant, self-assured woman who now walked beside him. Some fresh makeup, a few rhinestones and a backless black evening gown, and she was once again the buddy he’d always known. Or so he kept telling himself.
When he looked closely, though, he could see her tension. Her smile was forced, her bare shoulders a little too stiff.
“I think I just split the seat of my pants coming up the steps,” he whispered as the applause died down. “And of course I had to wear the red polka-dot boxers tonight.”
Michelle glanced at him, humor replacing the strain in her eyes as she stepped
up to the microphone. No one looking at her would have any idea of the heartache she was hiding.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Her husky voice flowed clear and easy. “I’m Jacob Ryan—”
“No, I want to be Jacob tonight,” Jacob interrupted before she could falter at her mistake. “There are a lot of beautiful women here.”
Laughter filled the ballroom. Michelle joined in and Jacob knew she was going to be okay.
“Yeah, on second thought, I’d probably be crushed if I had to carry your ego around,” she said. “Though I wouldn’t mind the paycheck.”
The audience laughed again.
Jacob leaned one elbow on the podium and leered at Michelle. “It looks like you could use it to buy the other half of that dress.”
Michelle’s eyes promised retribution, and Jacob relaxed. Work had begun.
“We’ve got a great evening ahead of us, ladies and gentlemen, dancing to the sounds of Huey Michaels’s band—” Jacob waited for the applause to stop “—but first we have a treat for you. As you all know we’re gathered here tonight to honor the children of our city. Most of us were fortunate enough to grow up in loving homes, but many of the children living in our city today are not so fortunate, which is why we’re all here—to help those children. We have hotlines young people can call, but not enough qualified people to man them. We have buildings to use as shelters, but no way to pay the utilities. These programs take money. Lots of it. And tonight the donations you’ve contributed have already totaled more than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars—” A burst of applause interrupted him. “You’ve just saved some lives, folks,” Jacob said, stepping back as the audience stood as a whole, applauding their cause.
“And now for that treat Jacob mentioned,” Michelle said, when the noise had died down.
“I know the one I’d like,” Jacob said, as he eyed Michelle’s bare shoulders.
The audience laughed, relieving some of the tension in the room.
Four Times the Trouble Page 5
