by Regina Duke
“That looks like a bank deposit bag. Madlyn has a couple of those that she uses to take the boutique deposits to the bank for Mina.”
“Hmmm. Shall we?” Jason lifted an eyebrow.
Vicky replied, “We shall.” She unzipped the bag. “Oh, my.”
“Well, well, well. It seems little Gloria has some very sticky fingers.” He poured the contents into his hand.
Vicky didn’t know much about jewelry, nor did she have the budget to think about such things. But the necklace, bracelet, and earrings looked very expensive.
“Wouldn’t your grandmother notice if such large pieces were missing from her jewelry box?”
“She might,” said Jason darkly, “if they were hers.”
“They’re not?”
He looked grim. “These belonged to my mother. She wore them at all the family parties.” His tone grew heavy. “I’ve already told Alistair we need to do an inventory. Looks like I came home none too soon.”
“But why did she hide things out here?”
“She fired the chauffeur two months ago. She’s been out here every time Gran wanted to go somewhere, doing the driving. And this is a place that Gran never comes. She always waits for her car to pull in front of the house. So maybe Gloria thought, with no one working out here, it would be a good place to stash things until she could turn them into cash.” Jason shook his head sadly. “I’d better add this to the list of complaints I gave the lawyers.” He put the jewels back in the bag and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Vicky put a hand on his arm. “She didn’t take them off the property.”
“No, but it’s all part of a pattern.”
“Are you really going to file charges?”
“I won’t make that decision until Alistair does the inventory. Legal action is a time-consuming mess. It’s not like it looks in the movies. I may not press formal charges, but I’m going to tell Clayborn to scare the crap out of Gloria.” He looked into Vicky’s worried eyes. “But not tonight. Not now. Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“All right.” Vicky followed him as he turned off the garage lights. Outside, he pressed the button to close the garage door. “This party would be a lot of fun if I wasn’t so worried about my mother. I hate it when she’s angry with me. I haven’t heard a word since we talked earlier.”
Jason took her hand as they walked back to the front door, only half listening. He made a mental note to have Lopes check all the bulbs in the exterior lighting.
“Maybe I should call her,” said Vicky, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
“Oh, no,” said Jason, folding his hand around her phone. “No need. I’m sure everything will work out.”
“But you don’t know what she’s like. She—”
Jason leaned in and stopped the flow of her words with a kiss.
Vicky forgot what she was going to say and kissed him back. His lips were like warm velvet, and they sent sparkles of feeling all through her body. She wondered if they could stay there all night, in the chilly October air, heating their bodies with the power of one kiss.
A window swung open above their heads and Madlyn sang out, “Vicky and Jason sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” She tossed something down. “Put this on before you freeze, Vicky.”
The kiss ended abruptly.
Jason caught the garment before it hit the ground.
“It’s a sweater,” said Vicky. “I must have left it at Madlyn’s house.” She pressed it to her face. It smelled of smoke.
Jason pulled her toward the front door. “Remind me again why I let Madlyn stay here?”
Vicky’s voice was hollow. She held the sweater out to him. “Because I may have caused her house fire.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Once inside, Vicky ran upstairs to the Peach Room, sweater in hand.
“Madlyn, I’m so sorry!”
Madlyn was already in her pajamas and fluffing her pillow. “About what?”
Vicky held the sweater aloft. “After you left for work yesterday morning, I went out and raked leaves, and when I came in, I tossed my sweater on the kitchen counter. I’m so sorry. I think that might have caused your house fire.”
“Do your clothes normally spontaneously combust?”
“No, silly, I think I tossed it over the toaster.” Vicky plopped onto her bed, sagging with dismay.
Madlyn tucked her bare feet under the covers. “No worries. Unless your sweater had electrical components, it did not short circuit and cause the fire. Besides, that’s one of mine. I know it’s black, but not every item in my wardrobe is multicolored. You can keep it if you want, because your sweater burned.”
Vicky rolled her eyes heavenward in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
“Are you mad at me for interrupting your moment with Jason? I opened the window for air. This place is like a fairy tale castle.” She put on a fake British accent. “The windows open outward, like doors.” She laughed. “So cool! Can I come visit a lot? I want you to rename this Madlyn’s Room, okay?”
Vicky smiled and nodded. “Done. Madlyn’s Room it is. You want me to get a sign for the door?”
Madlyn’s eyes got big. “Oh, could you?”
Vicky laughed. “Go to sleep. I’ll change as quietly as possible.”
Madlyn’s head was already deep in her pillow, but she encouraged Vicky to talk. “I’ve set my alarm this time so I can’t oversleep. Go ahead and tell me all your news. Did you talk to your mother about—” She yawned elaborately, then continued, “—about not wanting the musician’s life?”
“Oh. Well, I thought about calling her this evening,” said Vicky, moving from the bath to the bed to the chest of drawers. “But I didn’t. Jason wanted to kiss me. Oh, my goodness. Guess who I found sneaking around in the garage?” She turned toward Madlyn to share her adventure, but Madz was sound asleep.
****
Thursday morning
By the time Vicky opened her eyes, Madlyn was up and gone. Vicky blinked at her phone to see what time it was. Eight-thirty. How did she sleep so late?
She got up and showered, and as she dressed, she knew the answer. Sensory overload. That, and the unbelievable quiet that surrounded her in the Peach Room. She blew her hair dry, casting longing glances at her keyboard. She missed her long hours of practice.
Could she be wrong? Did she really want to tour?
No.
The answer came so fast, she was embarrassed. How could she spend her whole life preparing for something she didn’t want to do? Maybe that was why she never won a competition. Maybe her pre-contest nausea was the fear of actually winning.
But she loved her piano. She wanted nothing more than to spend her life with her hands on the keyboard.
When they weren’t on Jason. In his hair, around his neck, running up and down his bare chest.
She giggled.
Then she reminded herself that many people combine marriage and a career.
Of course, not that many make the marriage their career jumping-off spot. She shrugged. Different paths for different people.
Her mother would just have to deal with it.
She checked her face in the mirror, applied a dash of powder and lip gloss, then headed downstairs.
The flurry of activity she encountered in the dining room was a surprise. A young woman was bustling about, setting platters of food on the sideboard. Mrs. Johnson, moving more sedately, was delivering a silver coffee pot. Grace was serving herself some buttered toast and sausage. Jason was standing at the far end of the room, deep in conversation with a tall slender man with bemused features and carefully trimmed gray hair. He was wearing a suit and a shirt with ruffles on it.
When Jason spotted her he waved her over.
“Vicky, I want you meet Alistair Mays, our butler and hands down the most important man in this household.”
Alistair gave Vicky four inches of bow. “You overestimate me, sir. Miss Vicky, it’s a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mays.”
Alistair held up a hand. “Please call me Alistair.”
Jason clapped the butler on the back. “Al is going to get us through the rest of the day. Just knowing he’s here is a giant weight off my shoulders.” He leaned over and planted a good-morning kiss on Vicky’s cheek. “You should have breakfast. You’re going to need it.”
Vicky thought she saw him wink at Alistair but couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, it could wait. She was famished, and the smell of eggs and sausage was heavenly. She usually had a piece of toast for breakfast, but based on Jason’s urging, she decided to add protein.
She took her plate and sat by Grace.
“Good morning, dear. Is that all you’re eating?”
Vicky stared at her tiny pile of egg and her single sausage and toast. “It’s more than I usually have. Is Mrs. Darby up yet?”
“Yes, and thank goodness for Mina.” Grace’s eyes grew large and her brows rose.
“Interesting morning, I take it.” Vicky nibbled at her toast.
“Jason tells me your grandmother had a similar condition.”
“Yes. She lived with us until I was in high school. After that, she spent two years in a special nursing home before she died. It just got to be too much for my mother.”
Grace nodded. “I understand. Near the end with Jerry, even though his mind was still sharp, it all got to be too much.” She lowered her gaze. “That wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”
Vicky reached out and squeezed her hand. “He was so lucky to have you.”
Dolores’ sharpest tone shattered the domestic peace. “Stop fussing, woman. I know how to walk.”
A moment later, she appeared at the dining room door. “Where is Thomas? There you are.”
She moved on shaky legs toward Jason. Mina was right behind her, watching her gait, ready to offer assistance, and wearing her usual friendly, open smile.
“Good morning, Vicky. Grace.” Mina greeted them cheerfully.
Jason gave his grandmother a peck on the cheek. “Morning, Gran.” He met her gaze. “It’s Jason.”
“I know, I know. Too many names. They all ball up in my brain.” She noticed Alistair for the first time and drew back. “Well, well, here’s Mr. Vacation himself. How was your cruise?”
Alistair’s brows shot skyward, but he said diplomatically, “It’s good to be home, Madam.”
“Excellent. I’ll have eggs and sausage. And coffee. I need to wake up.” She looked around, suddenly lost. When she spotted Mina, her confidence returned. “There you are. Don’t run away, now. Time to eat. Come on, come on, help me with my chair.”
Mina’s good humor was admirable in the face of Dolores’ morning dose of curmudgeon. She pulled out a chair. “There you go, Mrs. Darby. You’ll feel a hundred per cent better after breakfast.”
“You said that about my shower. It didn’t help.” But her features softened a bit, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.
Vicky met Mina’s gaze and they exchanged knowing smiles.
Jason finally sat down to eat.
Vicky said, “What’s on the agenda?”
Everyone laughed.
Vicky looked around. “Did I say something funny?”
“The party,” said Jason. “I have to spend a lot of time at The Cattlemen’s today, helping Dee, taking care of details, schmoozing with the staff.” He winked. “And you will have your hands full finding a fun costume. Remember, it doesn’t have to be formal. It’s a Halloween Ball.”
“I brought her some things,” said Mina. She turned to Vicky. “We’ll try them on after breakfast. I have a selection of masks for Dolores as well. It’ll be lovely.”
Vicky didn’t know about that, but obviously her morning was planned out for her.
Grace said, “When Mina returns to town, I’m going with her to choose something from the boutique. Besides, I haven’t been shopping in weeks. It’ll be a nice change.”
Vicky nodded. “Okay.” She looked to Jason. “And later?”
“You and Gran will come to town in the Rolls. Al and I have it all figured out.”
“Oh. I see. Fine.” Vicky’s appetite was fading.
Jason leaned close and whispered, “I won’t abandon you. It’ll be fun. Honest.”
This time, it was clearly a wink, and it was directed at her. Vicky tried to relax. She forced a cheerful tone as she turned to Mina and asked, “What sort of costume have you picked out for me?”
Mina spread her hands. “Isn’t it obvious? Bride of Frankenstein!”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Jason could tell that Vicky was horrified. The look on her face said it all. He cleared his throat.
“I’ve always enjoyed your sense of humor, Mina, but as a recently engaged man of means, I’d rather my fiancée’s first public appearance be a bit more stately and dignified. She will be representing the Darbys in the future. Maybe you could do something more along the lines of Marie Antoinette?” He wagged his brows at Vicky.
She looked relieved and pleased.
Mina looked a tiny bit disappointed, but shrugged it off. “Whatever you want. I’ve got a couple of ball gowns the seamstresses have been playing with in the back room. I’ll bet one of those will fill the bill. Vicky will look gorgeous.”
Jason smiled. “She already looks gorgeous. Just make sure she’s wearing something equally pretty.” He glanced at his phone. “Look at the time. Alistair? Do we still have that ten o’clock appointment?”
“We do indeed, sir. Shall I bring the car around?”
“Yes. The one you drove yesterday will be fine.” He lay a hand over Vicky’s. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon. Do you need anything?”
“I need a car.” It just popped out. She covered her mouth. “Sorry. I’m feeling—” She cut off the word “trapped” and substituted, “—less than mobile.”
Jason looked across the table at Grace, asking a silent question. A moment later, he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to her.
Vicky gasped. “The Jaguar? But you love that car.”
“I loved the man I bought it for. He’s gone. I don’t think he’ll mind if you drive it now and then.”
“Thank you.”
Alistair offered, “I will be back for you, Miss Vicky, and here is my number if you need me in the meantime.”
“Thank you.” She took Al’s card and Jason’s keys.
Jason stood up. “We’d better get going, Al.”
“Yes, sir.”
Outside, Jason waited for Al to fetch the Rolls. They were meeting Elsa Winn in the lobby of the Cattlemen’s Inn. He didn’t want to be late. He was trying to make an impression.
When he got in the car, he said, “Thank you for doing this, Al. Vicky’s mother seems to listen to everyone but Vicky. It’s up to me to set her straight on a few things.”
“Understood, sir.” Al drove sedately down the long driveway, but as soon as they hit the main road, he sped up.
Jason drummed his fingers on his trouser leg. “Did she say much on the trip down?”
“No, sir. She’s a woman of few words. Very tight lipped. Closed off.”
Jason nodded. “You’re to be congratulated for even getting her to agree to come.”
“I told her it would break her daughter’s heart if she didn’t come to your engagement party.”
“Engagement party?”
“Yes, sir. I knew at once when I met her that she would never be impressed by a Halloween Ball.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
Alistair’s dignified features tilted in a smile.
Jason couldn’t seem to stop chattering. “Do you think she’ll let me pay off her mortgage?”
“Not on a bet, sir.”
“Then how am I going to keep my promise to Vicky?”
“If I may be so bold, sir, from what you’ve explained to me, your financial arrangement was with Vicky, not her mother. Vicky can try to help Elsa, but be ready t
o console her when her mother refuses to be helped.”
“I see. All right. Thanks, Al.”
At the Cattlemen’s, Alistair pulled up in front of the lobby doors, emerged from the Rolls, and walked around to open Jason’s door.
“Do you wish me to wait here, sir?”
“She knows you, Al, so you should come in with me.”
“Very well, sir.” Alistair lifted a hand and a young parking attendant ran up, eyes wide with astonishment at the sight of the Rolls.
“You want me to park it for you, mister?”
Alistair lifted his chin half an inch. “Good heavens, no. I want you to stand next to it and make sure no one touches it until we return. Is that understood?” He folded a ten-dollar bill and extended it with two fingers. “This is a down payment on your vigilance.”
The boy grinned. “Yes, sir!”
Alistair met Jason’s gaze and the two men shared a whisper of a smile. Then they went in.
The lobby was large with lots of wood and marble. Jason enjoyed the fact that Reese McAvoy saved his elegant touches for the inside of the Inn.
“Do you see her?”
Alistair completed his visual survey. “No, sir. I do not.”
“That’s not a good sign. Do you think she bolted?”
Alistair said nothing.
Jason checked the time on his phone. “It’s just now ten o’clock. We’re not late.”
The elevator doors pinged. Jason and Alistair watched expectantly as the doors opened.
“There she is, sir,” said Alistair quietly.
Elsa Winn was an older version of her daughter. Her hair was a mix of gray and blond, pulled neatly back and folded in a low chignon. She was an inch or two thicker around the middle, but she had the same long, elegant fingers, and her forearms were every bit as strong as Vicky’s. She wore a quiet, thrifty outfit, a pale blue short-sleeved top over dark blue slacks and navy pumps. She glanced about until her eyes settled on Alistair. She stepped forward to meet them.
And right behind her strutted the lean, pompous figure of Darius Blaine.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Jason froze and fixed a hard stare on Darius.
