Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1)

by J. A. Menzies

  “That’s why this is such a welcome change. Thank you very much.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek and launched his chair.

  Shauna wandered off to see the rose garden by daylight.

  After studying the locations of each of the others and stopping to speak for a moment with Jillian, who was lying on a chaise lounge watching Peter dive, Bart followed her.

  He cornered her against a trellis of climbing roses. “So, tell me, why do you let Jillian criticize you in front of everyone, or even in private for that matter?”

  Shauna watched her foot make a circle on the thick grass. “It’s no concern of yours.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “No, but, you would never understand!”

  “I might.”

  “She’s beautiful and mature and elegant!”

  “You think she’s perfect?”

  “Yes.” Shauna looked up at him for the first time. “She is, isn’t she? Perfect! She always has been. Even when she was a little girl, people always noticed her. She had long golden hair and you just always noticed her!”

  “And I suppose you got left behind all the time?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mind. You see, she loved all the attention. I’d have hated it. I’d much rather curl up with a good book or go for a walk. She loves to be with people and have them admire her.”

  “Sounds boring.”

  “Oh, but see how well she’s done! Married to a wealthy lawyer who gives her everything she wants. All those beautiful clothes!”

  “You’re not jealous?”

  Her eyes widened and again she looked at him. “Jealous? Of Jillian? Of course not! I’m delighted for her. Her life is just what it should be, but it would never suit me.”

  Her sincerity took Bart by surprise. For a moment he said nothing. Then he remembered his original question. “But that doesn’t explain why she talks to you the way she does. Or why you let her.”

  Her eyes returned to a careful scrutiny of the grass at her feet. “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just her way. And I do exasperate her so. I guess I wish she wouldn’t say things in front of other people, but I don’t really blame her.”

  “You don’t?”

  “She’s tried to help me, even given me clothes, but, well, it doesn’t help much.”

  Bart chose his words carefully. “Have you ever tried to do anything about your—your—”

  “My ugliness?”

  “You aren’t ugly. Just a little dowdy, maybe.”

  She quickly averted her face and walked away.

  He let her go. He knew he’d hurt her, but what he’d said was true.

  She’d gone only a few feet when she suddenly spun around. He was prepared for tears and anger, but he saw neither.

  “You think I’m dowdy? Dowdy? What do you mean?”

  Bart was for once at a loss for words. “I—er—”

  “I want to know. Dowdy means drab or outdated. But this dress is quite new. And it’s one of Jillian’s favorite colors for daytime. What’s wrong with it?”

  Bart blinked. All right. She’d asked. “Let Jillian wear it, then.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t understand. Do you mean it would look good on her but not me?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then you do think I’m ugly.”

  “No, I just think Jillian should wear that dress. Not you.”

  “But…”

  “Do you have any money with you? Or a credit card?”

  “Upstairs in my purse. Why?”

  “Well, if I had the ready cash, I’d buy you a new dress and some different makeup and get your hair cut and styled. And I’d get new frames for those glasses, or, better yet, contact lenses. And I guarantee at the end of the day you wouldn’t know yourself.”

  Shauna stared at him. “But Jillian—”

  “You aren’t Jillian! And you don’t have to be a poor imitation of her, either. Be yourself!”

  “Do you really mean it? You could show me how to look good?”

  “Let’s go.”

  “No, I couldn’t. There must be a dozen things you’d rather do.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll get a car and meet you in the front drive in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, no, it wouldn’t be right.” She was slipping into her shell again.

  “You’re a big girl, Shauna. You can do anything you want.”

  “I mustn’t. Maybe I’ll see what Jillian thinks.”

  “Then I won’t take you.”

  “What?”

  “If you tell anyone, you would spoil the surprise. No one must know. Not even Jillian.”

  “The surprise?”

  “Sure. Let’s surprise the lot of them.”

  Shauna’s eyes widened again. “Could I, do you think? Oh, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Go up and get your purse. Meet me out front in fifteen minutes. And don’t tell anyone. Surely you can handle that.”

  “Well…”

  “On your way. And don’t chicken out on me.”

  “I—I’ll see.”

  Peter and Kendall were practicing dives at the deep end of the pool. Nick was prone on his lounge chair in the middle. Jillian found herself a floating chair and paddled it toward Nick.

  When she was only a few feet away, Nick rolled off his raft and swam to the edge of the pool. He pulled himself out of the water and shouted, “You game to try some tennis, Mr. Martin? For amateurs only?”

  Peter paused at the foot of the ladder before waving and calling back, “Sure. Why not? One more dive and I’ll get ready.” He did a perfect somersault before following Nick to the change room.

  Kendall refused an invitation to accompany them. “Too hot. I’m going to do a few laps and then go inside and read for a while.”

  Alone on her red raft in the middle of the pool, Jillian lay back in the warm sunshine. Only her left hand moved, tapping against the side of the raft in short, hard jerks. She watched Peter and Nick leave, and her blue eyes were as hard as diamonds.

  On the way to the tennis court, Peter said, “Hadn’t occurred to me before, but a good game of tennis is just what I need to work up an appetite before lunch. This lazing around isn’t really my style.” He touched his stomach. “Course, Jillian says I should go on a diet, but I don’t see it. I’ve worked hard all my life, worked for everything I’ve got, and while I can afford good food, I’ll be darned if I’ll go on a diet. I’m going to enjoy myself. That’s my philosophy, Nick. Work hard, and when you get the money, spend it on what you want. Some men work all their lives and put every cent in the bank and then leave the whole thing for their kids. Not me. No, sir. Good wine, good women, good everything. What about you?”

  “Pretty much the same. Enjoy yourself while you’ve still got it.”

  “George says there’s some doubt about your joining us. Are you sure you know what you’d be turning down?”

  “I guess I’m just not ready to settle in yet. Maybe I never will be.”

  “Haven’t met a woman to give you roots, eh?”

  “I’ve got no plans involving women.”

  “Do I detect a hint of bitterness there? Had some bad luck?”

  “My parents are divorced.”

  “Oh? Mine might as well have been. My father was never around. It’s hard, but the strong survive.” Peter paused. “I guess you know I’ve been divorced a few times myself. Jillian’s the fourth. And not likely the last.”

  Nick gave him a grim look.

  “You don’t like that, eh, Nick? You’ve got a lot to learn. When I was your age, I had a wife and three kids. A few years later, we called it quits. Truth was, the only thing we had in common was sex. Too much, too soon, if you know what I mean. After Patty, there was Hildy, and Genevieve, and now Jillian. Life goes on.”

  “I don’t think I could do that.”

  “Neither did I when I was twenty-five. But things happened. Now it�
�s part of my program for having the best. You get what you pay for. That shocks you, doesn’t it? It would shock Jillian, too, if I told her I know she married me for my money. She’s convinced herself I’m head-over-heels in love. What a sweetheart!”

  They had reached the tennis court, so Nick was spared having to reply. For a few moments, they watched the foursome play. The teams had been well-matched. Douglass, although normally a better player than George, was not quite at his best today. Lorry and Hildy were very even, Hildy’s experience and desire to win making up for Lorry’s youthful speed. It made for a good spectator game, and Ellen, comfortably reclining in a lawn chair, had enjoyed herself thoroughly.

  As the game ended, George called to Nick, “Come take my place! Lorry’s young enough to manage another set, but I’m going to go and just drop into the pool.”

  So Nick took George’s place and Peter coaxed a reluctant Hildy into staying when Douglass left with George.

  “You realize the caliber of play is about to plummet?” Nick called to Hildy. She smiled.

  Kendall had gone into the house shortly after Peter and Nick left. He paced back and forth in his large bedroom, wondering what to do. He didn’t like telling lies. In fact, he hated it. Yet he had been lying to Nick for the past month about his relationship with Marilyn. It was true they were friends. In fact, he liked her a lot. But only as a friend.

  Oh, there was someone all right. But he didn’t want anyone, especially Nick, to know who it was. Not yet. Once he joined the firm and everything was under control, then he would introduce her to the world as his chosen bride. For now, she was a secret that gave him goosebumps. He wasn’t used to lying. Not that he was lying, exactly. Just not telling the truth. Perhaps it would be best if he did make a bit of a fuss over Lorry, though. Make his mother happy. Keep her from asking questions.

  Left to herself, Jillian paddled her raft to the edge of the pool and gracefully rolled onto the cement without getting wet. She stood up, lithe and tanned in the revealing cream floral bikini.

  Anne was lying on a lounge chair near the pool. She was wearing an expensive plain green one-piece bathing suit with a matching green and yellow floral sarong. She had been lying there for some time watching the others, pretending to read a magazine from a stack on the table. As Jillian stood up, Anne looked over the top of the magazine.

  Unfortunately, Jillian turned at that exact moment, and their eyes met. Anne quickly looked down at the magazine.

  “Don’t you wish!” Jillian said in what Anne considered a most insolent voice.

  “I’m sorry?” Anne replied haughtily. “Did you speak?”

  “What a drag it must be to know you’re middle-aged, overweight, and over the hill! But then, I don’t expect you ever looked this good.”

  Anne clenched her jaw. With dignity, she replied, “I don’t know what gutter Peter found you in, but he would have done himself and everyone he knows a favor by leaving you in it.”

  “Oh, the lady has teeth, does she?” Jillian smiled. “Nice try, but if you think an insult from you will affect me, you’re not very smart.”

  “I expect you’d only understand four-letter words.”

  “Yeah, four-letter words like cold, hard cash.”

  “Well, you’re certainly cold and hard, and it’s obvious you like cash.”

  “Mmm.” Jillian’s brows arched gently above her twinkling eyes. “It’s so nice we understand each other.”

  “I told you yesterday morning I don’t have my own money. Everything is joint. He’d know.”

  “Are you telling me you can’t make up a good lie? Now why do I find that hard to believe?”

  “I could tell Peter.”

  “Go ahead. See which of us he believes. And then, of course, you never know what Dougie might do if Peter did become annoyed with me. Dougie is such a gentleman. Just the kind to act as Sir Galahad to a lady in distress. And I would be in such distress.”

  “You—you—!”

  “Anne, dear, why can’t you just accept that I always win? Make it easy on yourself and give me what I want.”

  Anne’s voice was brittle. “And exactly what do you want?”

  Jillian tilted her head to one side in a puzzled way.

  Anne said the words slowly, clearly, as if speaking to a child. “How much money am I going to have to give you before you take your claws out of my husband?”

  Jillian shrugged. “Oh, I should think twenty-five thousand would be adequate.”

  Anne gasped. “I can’t possibly get you that much! Certainly not without Douglass’s finding out. I can’t!”

  Jillian was examining her nails. “Don’t you think he’s worth that much?” she asked carelessly.

  While Anne sought for words, Jillian stood up and walked away. A slender gold bracelet above the tanned ankle seemed to wink and laugh in the sunlight, warning Anne how foolish she was to think she could stand up to the younger woman.

  Anne set her magazine down and walked, head held high, up to her room where she closed the drapes, gulped down several tranquilizers, and threw herself, sobbing, onto the bed.

  FIVE

  Lunch was served on the patio and consisted of plates of fresh vegetables, fruit, dainty sandwiches, and several salads.

  Ellen watched as Nick gravitated once more to Lorry. Kendall was there, too, but it seemed to Ellen that Nick was giving Kendall no chance to be alone with the girl. Annoying to see her plans go awry. Perhaps she should have insisted that Kendall bring Nick another time instead.

  But perhaps there was still hope. Lorry would be in the city all summer. And although she was attractive, she really wasn’t Nick’s type at all. Perhaps later on.

  George sat down beside his wife. “Lost in your thoughts, or are you too hot to eat?”

  Ellen smiled. “I’m never too hot to eat Mrs. Winston’s food. I think we ought to give her a raise.”

  “Just don’t let her get it into her head that she’s too good to be working for ordinary people like us.”

  “As if she would,” Ellen replied cheerfully. Then the two of them sat back to enjoy their lunch, comfortable together even in silence.

  Across the patio, Jillian’s pretty mouth set into a hard line. Unaware, she thrust her jaw forward. Her eyes were on Nick, who was smiling at something Lorry had said.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jillian saw Peter coming toward her. She cried out, “Petey, darling, what’s taken you so long? Do sit here beside me, love. I’ve hardly seen you all morning.”

  Peter laughed and set his plate on the table. Then he leaned over and kissed her. “My dear, I didn’t know you cared.” His eyes were laughing. But when she responded by reaching up and kissing him passionately, an observer would have noticed a glimmer of surprise on his face.

  “You have to realize there are as many areas of law as there are medicine,” Nick was telling Lorry. “Contracts, wills, civil suits, copyrights, any number of business areas from mergers to lawsuits, not to mention defending criminals of all sorts and a ton of other things that most people don’t realize.”

  “Which area interests you the most?”

  “There’s good money in what Brodie does. Business law.”

  “And is money the priority?”

  He shrugged. “I’d just as soon have it as not,” he replied after a moment. “What about you? You’ve been going to college, haven’t you? What are you going to do?”

  “I went to a Bible college where I majored in psychology. I love teenagers, so I’m hoping to find a job working with young people. If I don’t get one by the fall, I’m thinking of going to another country for a year. There are lots of opportunities for people who can teach English as a second language. And I could learn a lot that way. Or I may go back to get my master’s degree. But right now, I’m volunteering with an organization that works with homeless youth in downtown Toronto. So I’ll be here for the summer.”

  Nick’s expression was one of bewilderment. “Volunteering?”

>   “Yes.”

  “So you aren’t getting paid?”

  “Right.”

  “Would you get paid if you go to another country to teach English?”

  “A lot depends on which country you go to. I’d likely look for one that needs teachers and doesn’t pay much.”

  “So money isn’t your priority?”

  She smiled as she shook her head.

  “What does your dad do? He bankrolling you?”

  “Not really. He’s pastor of a small church in a town near Edmonton, Alberta.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She looks after her home and family, directs the choir, plays the organ, teaches children, and leads a Bible study.”

  “None of which pays, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Sounds like one big happy traditional family—right out of the fifties.”

  Her eyes twinkled merrily into his. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “But you talk like a twenty-first century woman. So why would you choose a job that barely pays and gets you nowhere?”

  “Why not if I think it’s what I should do?”

  “Should?”

  “I think it’s what God wants me to do.”

  “What has God got to do with it?”

  “God is a very important part of my life.”

  “You believe there really is a God?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But even if there is, you still have to live. You know. Rent. Food. Clothes. Little things like that.”

  “Is money a priority with you?”

  “I like having it.”

  “Is that why you ski? For the money?”

  “You know it isn’t. But I have an opportunity to go on the freestyle circuit this year, and there’s a chance I could make some money there.”

  “I guess the best thing is a job where you enjoy what you’re doing and make money, too, huh?”

  “Of course. But I don’t see you ever making much working with kids. Unless you become a teacher or a psychologist or something.”

  “Hmm. Maybe someday. Right now, I just want to use what I’ve already learned to help someone. I guess helping people is more rewarding to me than making money.”