by Rozsa Gaston
"What are you doing here?" he asked, carefully controlling his voice.
"Just dropping off Marguerite's birthday present. Aren't I, darling?" She smiled down at the girl, who turned excitedly to her uncle.
"Annabel is taking me to a Broadway show for my birthday. It's the one about the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz," she exclaimed breathlessly.
Jack stared at the smooth, blank face of his former girlfriend. She had shown no interest in children the entire time they'd dated. All of a sudden, she was taking his niece to a Broadway show? He would discuss this with his sister later. Something fishy was going on. He would not allow himself to be the sacrificial fall guy for Annabel's momentary lapse in fortune-hunting. Maybe she was having a tough month of June, having attended too many weddings with no nuptial plans of her own. As a well-maintained thirty-five-year old, he guessed she'd probably decided her next five-year plan would be the family one. He shuddered inwardly to see how taken in his niece was by his ex-girlfriend's catalog-cover smile.
"This is Hint Daniels," he told his niece, ignoring Annabel for the moment.
"That's a nice name," Marguerite said, looking up at Hint.
"Thank you. I heard you're seven today," she replied, squatting down to meet the little girl at eye level.
"Yes. I'm seven, and at Christmas, I'll be seven and a half. Then I'm going to be eight," Marguerite told her. "How old are you?"
The wondrous directness of children, he marveled, curious to see how Hint would handle the question. He agreed with his niece. Hint was a nice name.
"I'm thirty-two, sweetie. Do you know how many more birthdays you'll have before you're thirty-two?"
"Ooh. Is that a math problem?" Marguerite's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Yes. Because I heard you're very good in math."
Jack was astonished. He hadn't said anything at all about his niece's math skills, but Hint was right on the money. Marguerite loved math problems.
" I… uh… Let me see. It's…" The little girl counted slowly on her fingers then tapped her head. Her face contorted as she pondered. "Is it twenty-five?" she finally burst out.
"Yes. You have twenty-five more birthdays to go to get to my age."
"That's awesome. Thanks for bringing your friend, Uncle Jack. Is she your girlfriend?"
Gulp. Darned if he couldn't help loving the pig-tailed wonder even when she was embarrassing the stuffing out of him.
"She's my very special friend, Marguerite."
"Does that mean she's your girlfriend?" Like a dog with a rope knot, she wasn't going to let go until she'd wrenched away every ounce of self-possession he had.
"Maybe, baby," he sassed, making a silly face. This might be an inspired moment to confuse the enemy. He hoped he wasn't embarrassing Hint, who shifted next to him.
"Yippee zippy!" Marguerite bounced up and down with each syllable. "But wait — what does that mean Annabel is?" His niece looked relentlessly from him to Annabel.
He cocked his head and made another face at her.
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" he suggested, hoping he was being exceptionally confusing.
"Annabel, how many more birthdays will I have until I get to your age?"
Woops. Jack admired the way Marguerite chose to skip back to her penultimate topic, her mind as lively as her merry, mobile face. One day she would be best-in-breed in the dating stakes, confusing suitors both coming and going. He chuckled inwardly as the solar plexus of his ex-girlfriend suddenly sucked in, as if she'd been hit in the gut. Sucker-punched.
"Many more, darling. Many presents far into the future," his ex replied, pursing her lips as she stared down her small but efficient inquisitor.
"Yes, but how many? Give me a math problem like Jack's girlfriend. I like them. Is it twenty-five again?"
"Um… it's not important, darling."
Jack got a kick out of seeing Annabel gulp.
"It's important to me, Annabel." Marguerite stomped her foot and turned to Hint. "Let's do more math. Want to come in so we can get a paper and pencil?"
Hint nodded enthusiastically. Marguerite took her hand and marched her up the front path, stepping in front of Annabel, who was forced to move back onto the grass to allow them to pass.
Jack reached into the car to get Marguerite's present out of the back seat. Compared to Broadway theater tickets to one of the hottest shows of the season, the book of Greek myths he'd gotten her suddenly seemed diminished. He burned, thinking of Annabel's predictable ability to trump anything and everything he did. But the thought of the cool, blonde woman gulping in alarm made him laugh inside. It was good to have a seven-year-old on his side, unwittingly or not.
Slamming the car door behind him, he turned to see Annabel waiting for him at the front door. As he approached, he steeled himself for whatever she had to say.
"Oh, Jack. I just wanted to explain—" she began.
"Don't bother. Just don't ingratiate yourself with my family any further." He stared at her for a brief moment. "You have no reason to — none at all."
She met his gaze, her eyes glittering. If not for the circumstances, she would have grabbed him and planted one on him, he guessed. She was good at that sort of thing, mixing it up for kicks. Then dropping good old Jack the moment a hotter prospect came along. Those days were done.
"You don't understand. I'm fond of Marguerite. She asked me to come," she responded coolly.
"That's ridiculous. There's no reason for you to even be in touch with my family. Why are you doing this?"
"Whatever you think I'm doing, I'm doing it for you. You know that."
"There's no more 'me' for you. Get it? Done. You've made your splash with Broadway tickets for Marguerite, now say goodbye and go." He had never been so angry with her. Actually, he had been, but he wanted to forget those occasions, too numerous to count.
"Jack, you take my breath away." Her hands behind her back, she gripped the doorframe behind her. "You're so… fierce."
The way she said it made him think of what Hint put up with from her superintendent, Brian Muscle-Man. He could imagine Annabel and Brian competing on a game show, twisting every word into nuance as they vied to out-seduce each other. It would be a very tough contest.
Why was this not moving in the direction he had intended? It never did with Annabel. He couldn't control the situation. All he could do was control how he handled it.
"Listen. We're done," he told her. "We've been done for over a year. You will not ruin this evening for me."
"Or for your very special friend?" she purred.
"Right. I want you to leave. Now. But if you choose to stay, you will not rock my boat. Not in the least. Just behave, then be on your merry way."
"Not rock your boat, Jack? What about your—"
"Shut it, Annabel. Go rock-a-bye some other baby." He turned sharply and headed into the hallway. Where was a safe haven? And why had Hint popped into his mind as soon as he asked himself?
****
"Rock-a-bye some other baby," rang in Hint's ears as she descended the stairs with Marguerite following behind. She'd never heard Jack speak like that. Why did she feel turned on and turned off all at the same time? The hair stood on her arms as her fighting Irish rose. He was clearly telling the blonde woman to back off. But she didn't like the words or tone of voice he'd used, all of which confirmed what Marguerite had already indicated. The two had a history. She didn't like it at all.
She wanted Jack's history to have begun that morning, the moment she'd woken up in his arms. But as usual, life was messier. Facing her demons, she looked straight into the eyes of the tall, cool woman in the doorway.
"I'm sorry you have to leave," she graciously lied as the woman's eyes flickered uncertainly then glanced away.
"You're leaving, Annabel? What about dinner? Aren't you staying for my birthday cake?" Marguerite called out from behind Hint.
"I… I ought to get going," the tall woman said. For the first time, her composure appeared
to wilt. She tried to catch Jack's eye, but he'd turned toward the kitchen.
A woman with the same posture and carriage as Jack came into the front hallway.
"You're going so soon?" she addressed the blonde woman. "I thought you were staying for dinner."
Jack gave his sister a meaningful look.
Bibi's eyes widened as she took in Hint. "Oh… hello. I'm Jack's sister, Bibi Crane. You must be—"
"Hint. This is Hint Daniels. She and I are working on a project together," Jack interjected.
"How do you do?" Hint held out her hand to Bibi. She made a mental note to not breathe a word of their dog hunt while the tall blonde woman was still there. She had thought to enlist Jack's family's help in finding Percy, but not until she knew she could trust her audience.
Bibi shook her hand warmly. Marguerite's pert nose and heart-shaped face were evident in Jack's sister's features.
A cell phone rang. Annabel picked up an expensive looking, buttery leather handbag and took out her phone then disappeared through the front door. Hint could hear her answer the call in clipped, patrician tones. "Annabel Sanford."
Meanwhile, Jack took his sister's arm and led her into the dining room. Hint guessed what their whispered conversation might be about. Whatever the blonde woman had been to Jack, she was no longer, judging by his cool demeanor toward her.
A minute later, Bibi, looking thoughtful, followed Annabel out the front door.
"What about that pencil and paper, Marguerite? I've got another math problem for you," Hint encouraged the little girl.
"Goody. I'll get one. Let's go out to the back deck so we can work outside." The girl took her hand with a sticky, dirty, and deliciously small one.
Hint's heart warmed. Her instincts told her Annabel Sanford would not be joining them again that evening.
She was right. Two hours later, cake had been served, the candles blown out, and Marguerite serenaded with the "Happy Birthday" song. It was time to get back to dog hunting.
Jack had couched the story of the missing dog in the most general terms, so as not to detract from the birthday celebration. His sister and brother-in-law, Matt, had suggested that a lost, hungry dog from the neighborhood might be found hanging around the backs of shops and restaurants in downtown Scarsdale, looking for food scraps from garbage bins.
"Sweetie, we've got to go now," Jack told his niece after finishing the last bite of German chocolate cake on his plate.
"But Uncle Jack, I want you guys to stay and play more math games with me." She looked from Jack to Hint imploringly.
"Remember I told you Hint and I are working on a project together?"
The girl nodded.
"We've got a deadline, so we've got to get back to work."
"What's a project, Uncle Jack? What's a deadline?"
"It's boring big people stuff, honey. Like homework."
"Ohh. I 'm not doing homework tonight. Mommy told me I don't have to on my birthday."
"Right. You should get ready for bed then read one of the stories in the book I gave you."
"I need you to read me the story. I can't read all the words by myself, Uncle Jack. Let's read a story together, then you can do your project line."
Hint laughed. Marguerite wouldn't be denied.
"Jack, go read her a story. I'll help with the dishes."
She picked up his dessert plate and hers to take to the kitchen. She suddenly remembered the small gift she'd gotten for Marguerite, which she'd left in the car. She'd meant to bring it in the house, but the presence of the blonde stranger had startled her, and she'd forgotten.
"Don't bother with those dishes." Bibi motioned to her to sit down. "That's Matt's job." She looked at her husband next to her, who showed no sign of having heard or moving from his deck chair.
"I'll just take these into the kitchen. I've got to go out to the car to get something anyway," she told Jack's sister, who waved a hand as if to say go ahead.
After depositing the plates in the sink, she exited the house through the kitchen door into the driveway, heading for Jack's car to get the small princess jewelry box she'd picked up for Marguerite earlier that day.
Reaching into the front seat on the passenger side, she grabbed the wrapped present but didn't see the card she'd gotten with it. Had it fallen out of the bag? She searched the floor in front of the passenger seat. Nothing.
She looked on the driver's side. Heaving a sigh of relief, she grabbed the envelope on the dashboard near the window. She hadn't put it there, but perhaps it had fallen and Jack had picked it up. Strange that someone had tucked in the back flap already. Carefully, she untucked it and pulled out the card, wondering why its blank back faced her. Wasn't it usually the front of a greeting card that faced the back of the envelope? Perhaps she'd put it in the envelope the wrong way in her rush to get out of the store and back to looking for Percy.
She opened the card and stared in astonishment at what was already written on the inside.
Stanhope Hotel terrace, half past five tomorrow. Don't disappoint me, Jack-Jack.
–Your Girl in Red
Hint re-read the scrawled words, stunned. Then she looked at the cover. ASJ was engraved in a classic font, with the S in the middle larger than the other letters: Annabel Sanford, she would guess. She closed the card then re-opened it and stared at the words again. What would Jack do when he read it?
What would she herself do tomorrow, at half past five? Her final teleconference would be over, the conference attendees on their way to their first cocktail on the beach. Would she work on the fairy figure for her latest assignment? Cook up another steak to bring out to the backyard to lure Percy back? Take the train into Manhattan and swing by the Stanhope Hotel incognito to see who might be out on the terrace?
Quickly, she closed the card, slipped it back in the envelope, tucked in the flap, then replaced it on the dashboard. A minute later, she found the birthday card for Marguerite. It had fallen between the seat and the gearbox.
Pulling out a pen, she signed her name, sealed the envelope, grabbed Marguerite's present, then headed back to the house where Bibi was loading the dishwasher.
"They're up in her bedroom. First door on the right. Go on up," she said, pointing to the staircase.
Carefully arranging her face to reveal nothing of her discovery, Hint went up to find Jack sitting in a white rocking chair next to his niece's bed. The little girl was tucked away under a pink princess summer coverlet, listening to her uncle wrap up the story of Demeter and Persephone from the book of Greek myths he'd just given her. The girl's eyes widened as she entered the pink-walled bedroom.
"Ooh, what's that? Is that a present?" she sang out, eyeballing the gift in Hint's hand.
Hint nodded. She stifled a giggle at the sight of Jack Whitby in the delicate white rocking chair, his thick-soled shoes sunk into plush, raspberry-pink, wall-to-wall carpet.
"It's something small I picked up for you," Hint said to Marguerite. "I don't know if you'll like it, but your uncle told me you like princesses."
"Let me see." The child grabbed for the package, decorated with pink and purple bows. Within seconds, she'd ripped it open.
"It's a princess box!" She opened the jewelry box and admired the prince and princess figures that danced in a circular movement to a tinkling waltz tune. "Thank you, Hint. Yippee!"
"Yippee zippy, Maggie May." Jack turned from his niece and looked up at Hint as she stood in the doorway. An expression of sheer joy lit up his face. She wished she herself had the ability to put it there, but perhaps it was the kind of magical power only children possessed. "We've got to go now, sweetie. Hope you had a great birthday."
"I did, Uncle Jack. But I want you to come to my party on Saturday. Can you bring Hint too? We can play games and stuff."
"Uh," Jack hesitated. "That depends on if we've finished our project, honey. We'll see."
"You don't have to bring another present, you know." The girl looked at her uncle beseechingly. "I me
an, unless you want to. I just want you to come to my party." She gave Hint a huge smile, revealing a gap where her two upper front teeth were missing.
"We'll try, Marguerite. Good night, and don't let the bedbugs bite," Jack told her, standing up.
Hint turned and headed downstairs, Jack behind her. Her heart felt light, buoyed by the excitement of the young girl. She'd experienced a similar joyfulness less than twelve hours earlier. But a lost dog and now a tall blonde woman weighed upon her, warning her to keep her heart in check.
After exchanging goodbyes with Bibi and Matt, they headed for the car. Hint fussed with her jacket as she pretended not to notice Jack spot the white envelope on his side of the dashboard. He picked it up without opening it and placed it in the left back pocket of his jeans. She guessed he knew exactly what its provenance was. Quite likely, he and Annabel had seen each other for some time, if Marguerite had gotten to know her.
"Shall we drive down to Main Street?" he broke into her thoughts.
"Good idea. Let's look around the garbage bins behind the supermarket." She shuddered to think of the types of animals they were likely to encounter scrounging for food under cover of the night sky.
As they drove, she hummed softly. No woman in a red dress was going to destroy her peace of mind. They were on a mission, and apparently whatever mission Jack Whitby had once been on with the woman she'd met earlier that evening had ended.
There was only one way to be sure, however. A plan to visit the Stanhope Hotel the following day began to hatch in her brain. She would go undercover.
But only if she made some progress in their search for Percy.
They parked next to the largest supermarket in downtown Scarsdale. As Hint got out of the passenger seat, she spotted their remaining lost dog flyers in the back of the car.
"Jack, how about if we post a few more of these? I'll take the train station if you do the message board at the supermarket exit."
