Lorry emerged from the car into a hug from Ellen. After the hug, Ellen held her at arm’s length. “You’re gorgeous. And that hair! I know women who would kill for that hair.”
It was real, too. Ellen remembered the pictures of a chubby red-haired cherub with a mischievous grin and sparkling green eyes. The eyes still sparkled. But the chubbiness had been replaced by curves in all the right places and the grin had turned into a lovely smile. She was intelligent, too. She would make a perfectly delightful daughter-in-law.
Perhaps a little old-fashioned. With the father she had, she couldn’t help that. But Kendall would bring her up to date.
Lorry was looking all around. “This house is breathtaking.”
“Isn’t it?” Ellen agreed. “I have no idea why George thought we needed a place this grand. But it will certainly come in useful this weekend.”
Leaving George to handle the luggage, she escorted Lorry indoors and, after giving her a quick tour and pausing to speak with Mrs. Winston, led her upstairs to a room with pink ruffles and twin beds and, after another hug, left her there to unpack and freshen up.
Ellen hurried downstairs. She had suddenly remembered that George didn’t know about Bart. She was wrong.
After George carried Lorry’s luggage into the front hall, he had driven his car around to the garage. Puzzled by the open door leading to the unused apartment above, he went upstairs and found Bart in the process of sweeping a pile of dust onto a dustpan. “Of all the—! What are you doing here?”
“Glad to see you, too,” Bart said easily. “Apparently, no one’s been up here for a while. No end of spider webs, and dust an inch thick.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Cleaning up.”
“Ellen knows you’re here?”
“Afraid so, old man.”
“You’re not getting another cent from me this year! I already told you that.”
“You did. It makes life very difficult for me. I’m down to throwing myself on the mercy of my nearest and dearest. Of course, Aunt Ellen did give me a job.”
“She what?”
“Entertaining the ladies for the weekend. She thought I might be able to take them off her hands.”
George grunted. “And I suppose you’re eager to get started.”
“Well, Uncle George, if you want me to leave, I will. But, you know, I can’t think that the headlines would look very nice.”
“And what headlines might we be talking about?”
“The ones saying ‘Prominent Lawyer’s Nephew Arrested for Vagrancy on the Doorstep of Million-Dollar Estate.’ Some of those trash mags really go for that stuff, you know. Might even pay for an in-depth account of the nephew’s story. They’d love to dig up all the old stuff about how I was almost arrested for embezzlement that time, or how you paid off that girl’s father—the one who wanted to charge me with statutory rape. Of course, I don’t think he’d have won. And weren’t there some other incidents? Not sure I can remember. A couple of forgeries, maybe? Impersonation? I think someone wanted to charge me with theft. A lot of people would enjoy reading about my past. Vicarious thrills, you know.”
“Has anybody ever mentioned that you’re nothing but scum?”
“I think you may have alluded to something like that once or twice.”
“You do what your aunt tells you this weekend. And you stay on the line. One step over and I might change my mind and throw you to the dogs, no matter what the headlines say. Got it?”
“Got it. Now, may I finish cleaning up? I have to get ready to assist with the guests.”
“There are some suitcases in the front hall. You can start earning your keep by carrying them up.” So saying, George turned on his heel and walked out. As he went down the stairs, he slammed his fist against the wall. If he’d needed any proof that something was wrong, here it was. Whenever Bart turned up, there was bound to be trouble of one sort or another.
Ellen was standing in the front hall when George walked in.
“I saw Bart,” he announced immediately. “You should’ve sent him packing.”
“Did you?”
He grunted.
“I didn’t know what to do with him.” She slowly shook her head. “Such a waste.”
“I wish somebody would waste him.” Her puzzled look caught him up. “Waste is slang for killing. I wish we could get rid of him.”
“Killing him would be a little harsh, perhaps?” she offered.
“Not too harsh for that weasel. Oh, I know, it’s my own fault. I never should have helped him out in the first place. Stupidity. No, pride. He’s got my name. Didn’t want it dragged through the mud. I was a fool.”
“You did what you felt was best, George. It might have turned out differently.”
“He’s never had a single grateful bone in his body.”
“Well, no. Even as a young boy, he was never very trustworthy. Always looking out for himself.”
“I guess he’s the cross I have to bear. But if I can think of some way to get him off my back, I’ll do it in a minute.”
“Yes, George.”
“Never mind him. He’ll do what you want this weekend. He needs money. But after that—! Where are the others?”
“Douglass phoned to say they’d be here in time for supper. He had to work later than expected. And Peter called from his car to say they’re on the way and he’s bringing a surprise. He said he hoped we don’t mind. I don’t know what he meant. If it’s a surprise, why should I mind?”
“Who knows? Well, I’ll have a quick shower and change. Talking to Bart always puts me in a sweat.”
Twenty minutes later, Kendall’s Porsche pulled into the driveway. He grinned at his passenger. “How do you like it so far?”
“This is a house? I thought you’d changed your mind and stopped at a resort.”
“Snappy, huh? Some guy from the mob built it. He wanted to be very private. Later, he decided he didn’t like being so far from downtown, so he sold it. To the senior partner of Brodie, Fischer, and Martin. Think about it.”
The front door opened, and Ellen Brodie appeared. “Nick, it’s so good to see you again. You’re looking even handsomer than at your graduation. I’ll bet you’ve got all the girls waiting in line, eh?” Her voice dropped and she clasped her hands. “I have to warn you, though, that we have a small problem. I had planned for you to have your own room, but I hope you don’t mind sharing Kendall’s. It seems our house is going to be fuller than I thought. Of course, he has two beds in his room, double beds at that. It’s like a motel room, really. Well, don’t just stand there, you two.”
She gave Kendall a hug. “Come on in the house, and Nick can tell us how he likes it.” She waited while they got their suitcases out of the trunk and then led them inside, where she gave Nick a quick tour of the house before leading him and Kendall upstairs and making sure they had everything they needed.
Five minutes later, Ellen was standing in the hallway looking out the window in the front door when Kendall’s voice startled her. “What are you doing? Planning a coup?”
“What? Oh, it’s you, Kendall. Gracious, you frightened me. I didn’t hear a sound.”
“Deep in thought?”
“I was just wondering when they’ll get here. Soon, I hope. There’s so much traffic that of course one always worries about accidents. There are so many of them. Not always tragic, of course. But still worrying. And the delays they cause—” Another thought flashed across her mind. “But never mind that. Lorry’s here. I think you’ll like her. She’s really quite lovely. And so sweet.”
She would have continued, but the sound of a motor reached her ears. She opened the door and peered out along the circular drive. The nose of a silver Mercedes came around the corner. Ellen hurried out, followed by her son.
Peter cheerfully blamed their delay on Jillian. “She’s never ready on time,” he said. “It’s simply a fact of life I’ve learned to accept. And I hope you don’t mind, but Jilli
an’s sister is visiting and we couldn’t possibly leave her alone, so we brought her with us. She and Jillian could share a room if it would help,” he said with his endearing smile. “I’ll sleep anywhere, in the car if necessary.”
Flustered, Ellen said that of course he wouldn’t have to sleep in the car and there would be no trouble arranging a place for—what had he said her name was again?
“Shauna Jensen.” Peter laughed again. “Jillian, Shauna, Charmaine, Brandy, and Angelina. Their mother reads Harlequin romances by the dozen.”
A tall, thin woman dressed in beige emerged from the back seat of Peter’s Mercedes. Square black glasses stood out on the pale, though not unpleasant face. Shauna stepped forward. “I hope I haven’t put you out. I didn’t want to intrude, but Peter insisted.”
“Of course he did. ‘The more the merrier,’ as my dad always used to say.” Inwardly, Ellen groaned. What on earth was she to do with this unwanted guest? A couch somewhere? That would never do.
A Cadillac pulled into the drive and came to a stop behind Peter’s Mercedes. Douglass Fischer hurried around to open his wife’s door and help her out of the car. Anne got out slowly, as though she had arthritis. She was wearing an A-line mint green linen skirt with matching short-sleeved jacket, with a white Peter Pan collar. Her shoes and purse were also white. She had pulled her hair back and twisted it into a knot. Large pearl earrings dangled from both ears. She wore dark sunglasses and carried an emerald green tote bag.
Douglass tried to take the tote bag from her, but she ignored him and walked toward Ellen. Douglass shut the car door and followed. He kissed Ellen’s cheek before turning to talk with Peter.
Anne’s words rushed out to fill the empty space. “Ellen, how sweet of you to have us. It’s so nice to get away for a change.”
“Anne,” Ellen responded with equal enthusiasm, “it’s so nice you were able to come. I was thinking afterwards that you should have brought your children. They must be almost grown now.” As they hugged, Ellen wondered why Anne’s makeup looked streaky. And why her voice sounded so brittle.
Peter was opening the trunk to get suitcases. Douglass was stooped over to assist Jillian. Apparently Peter’s wife had dropped her purse in the car and was having difficulty finding the contents. Ellen and Anne moved toward the house. Then Ellen stopped and turned. “By the way, everyone, dinner is at eight. I know that doesn’t give you a great deal of time, but I hope you can manage. Just come as you are, of course.”
Nick was descending the wide sweeping staircase as Ellen and Anne entered the entrance hall. “Oh, Nick, if you’re looking for Kendall, he’s out front with some of our guests.”
Nick paused with a smile.
Ellen introduced Anne and then led her up the stairway. As the two women walked through the upper hall, Lorry’s door opened and she stepped out. Ellen watched in amusement as Anne’s eyes narrowed in a clear appraisal of the younger woman.
Having made quick introductions and shown Anne to her room, Ellen went back to talk to Lorry, who she had asked to wait for her.
“I have a real problem,” Ellen confided. “I hate asking you this, but Peter and Jillian Martin have turned up with Jillian’s sister and I have no more rooms. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to share your room? There are two beds.”
“I don’t mind one bit,” replied Lorry. “The room is so huge I was afraid I’d get lost in it by myself.”
“Thank you so much, dear. I’ll make it up to you. Now, let’s go down and find you something to do until supper is ready.”
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Ellen was surprised to see Nick standing in the open front doorway, apparently watching the people outside. At that moment, he turned and she was immediately aware of a difference. In the few minutes since she’d last seen him, he seemed to have paled, although with his tan it was hard to imagine how. To cover her confusion, Ellen began to talk. “Nick, you haven’t met Lorry yet.” She made the introductions.
Lorry smiled.
Ellen watched Nick to see his reaction, but there was none. Perhaps because he had been looking into the bright sunlight, he had trouble focusing in the darker hallway? She went to the open front door to call out, “Kendall, come and meet Lorry.”
Douglass was still at Jillian’s side of the car, leaning over. Kendall was talking to Shauna and Peter, but he waved to acknowledge his mother’s words and came inside.
When Kendall was in, Ellen introduced him to Lorry. Then she waved her hand in the direction of the games room. “Perhaps you’d like to have a game of billiards while you wait for supper.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but started toward the front door to look after her other guests. As she walked out the front door, she was wondering what was wrong with Nick. His easy habit of conversation seemed to be absent. Maybe she was imagining things, but he looked like someone who’d just seen a ghost.
Still seated in the silver Mercedes Peter had given her as a wedding present, Jillian Martin shut her voluminous purse. “That’s everything!” she announced. “Thanks for helping, Douglass. You’re such a sweetheart.” She raised her voice. “If we’ve missed any little thing, you’ll find it later, won’t you, Petey?”
“Sure, I will. But I suggest you come along now. You heard what Ellen said about supper.” Peter glanced at his watch. “We have less than an hour. We’ll both have to hurry if we’re to be ready. ”
“I’d better see that our suitcases are all out,” Douglass mumbled as he headed for his own car.
“Oh, well.” Jillian shrugged. “I suppose if I’m a little late it won’t really matter. She’ll understand.”
“She might, but I’m not so sure about me. I missed lunch today.” Peter laughed and patted his growing middle.
Jillian ignored him as she got out of the car. “Let’s go in. I want to see what our room looks like. What a huge house! Come on, Shauna. Our hostess is waiting for us.”
Ellen led the way upstairs. “I’ve put Shauna in with my young cousin,” Ellen said as she opened a bedroom door.
“I hate to cause all this trouble.” Shauna twisted the handle of her purse.
“Shauna could have managed perfectly well on a couch somewhere,” Jillian said. “I hope your cousin isn’t inconvenienced.”
“Oh, yes. This room is far too nice for me. Just a small cot somewhere would do.”
Ellen chose to ignore both comments. “Jillian, I remembered that you look lovely in all those bright oranges and yellows, and so I thought the room with those colors would be perfect for you. And, of course, I put Anne and Douglass in the green room because she wears a lot of greens and grays. Clever of me, don’t you think?”
“Very clever of you, Ellen,” Peter said. “And now, we’d better get to that room, Jillian, or we’ll never be on time for supper.
She acquiesced and, leaving Shauna, they followed Ellen.
Shauna was staring at a picture Lorry had placed on the nightstand next to her bed when there was a knock on the door. She jumped. Guiltily, she moved away from Lorry’s side of the room.
“Come in,” she said in a frightened voice.
The knock was repeated.
She forced her voice to become louder. “Come in.”
The door opened and the new suitcase Jillian had lent her appeared in the doorway. Behind it stood a strange man.
“Oh!”
“Delivering luggage. This is yours, I hope?”
“Yes. Thank you. I—thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Where would you like it?”
“Oh,” she said vaguely, “anywhere.”
“It’s heavy.”
“Oh. Maybe—?” She glanced around the room wildly and then gestured to the bed beside her. “Here. On this bed.”
He lifted the suitcase onto the bed and made sure the right side was up.
He was going out the door when she called, “Wait! Shouldn’t I pay you or something?”
“Do I look like the butler?�
�� he replied. “I’m not.”
Her face flamed. “Oh. I guess I’m not very—very—”
“George Brodie is my uncle.”
“Oh.”
“Well, see you at supper.”
“Yes. Yes, I guess so.”
“I’ll be eating it, not serving it.”
He shut the door and she moved over to stare at Jillian’s suitcase. After a moment, she opened it. It was full of the clothes Jillian had thrown at her. A couple of dinner dresses. A nightgown and matching robe. Some jewelry. Underwear. Bathing suit. Two sundresses. A skirt and blouse. Even shoes.
She pulled the garments out and hung them in her closet. She couldn’t keep from opening the other side of the closet. Clothes were hung neatly. One navy suit, two skirts, a few blouses, and three dresses, one green and two floral patterns. Nice, but ordinary. Not glamorous or sexy, like the things Jillian wore. Not expensive-looking, either.
Shauna went back to the bed. At the bottom of the suitcase were her own things. Jillian had said to leave them at the apartment, but for some reason she had brought them. She took out what she thought she might need. Toothbrush. Other toiletries. A few odds and ends. Her book. Then she put the suitcase, her own clothes still in it, at the back of the closet.
She sat down on a rose-colored chair and stared at the clothes in her closet. Maybe wearing them would get her through the weekend. Maybe she would be able to fool people into thinking she belonged here. Except that man. The one she’d thought was a servant. He knew she didn’t belong.
From now on, she would copy Jillian. Her sister always knew how to act. But then, her roommate was Mrs. Brodie’s cousin. So maybe she should copy her. Do what she did. It was all so difficult.
Shauna picked up the book Peter had let her bring. She’d worry about clothes in a little while.
Instead of playing billiards, as Ellen had suggested, Kendall had recommended a tour of the rose garden, to which Lorry readily agreed. Nick wandered along behind them.
The rose garden consisted of walls of wild rose bushes dotted with arches and trellises covered with climbing roses, several fountains with small cherubs gamboling, white wrought-iron love-seats for sitting, and a myriad of different roses, from floribundi to hybrid tea and miniatures to grandifloras, all of them beautifully cared for and many of them spectacular.
Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) Page 6
