Summons From a Stranger

by Diaz, Debra

  “What a hypocrite you are!”

  “Oh?” Brianna laughed. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You’ve certainly benefited from being engaged to Jonathan Laramore! I’ve seen you at the casinos yourself, in the company of others of your ilk!”

  Others of your ilk, Lindsey thought admiringly. What an awesome turn of phrase! She began to eat faster, although everyone else had stopped. She wanted to get finished before there was a food fight or something.

  “Well, the difference is, I spend my own money. Nor have I ever served a jail term for drunk driving.”

  Alan turned red. Charlotte’s face was pulled into a frightful mask of fury and her short, kinky hair seemed to be standing on end.

  “You see, Miss Evans,” Brianna said, and to Lindsey’s alarm she saw the black-eyed gaze turn to Rachel. “Such a charming family. Aren’t you glad you’re a part of it?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lindsey finally laid down her fork. It was impossible to eat and keep up with everything that was going on. She sipped her tea and glanced at Rachel out of the corner of her eye. Rachel’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were very bright. That usually meant she was going to speak her mind, which as a rule she didn’t do until sufficiently provoked.

  Brianna continued on her dangerous course. “It may interest everyone to know why our sweet Miss Evans is here.” Those malevolent eyes, destroying the angelic beauty of her face, went swiftly around the table. “That crazy old man upstairs intends to leave all of his money to this—”

  “Brianna,” said Jonathan, “stop it.”

  Her gaze swerved toward him angrily. He returned her glare with a calm look of his own, but there was something in his eyes that seemed to penetrate her emotional state, and she fell silent.

  Lindsey saw the shock on the faces around her. Who had told Brianna about the money? It had to be that nurse, Hensley—he was probably listening the whole time. Nobody else could possibly know about it.

  Alan finally cleared his throat. “Is this true, Miss Evans?”

  Mr. Caldwell answered quickly, “We haven’t yet had a chance to talk to Mr. Laramore.”

  “Has he already changed his will?” Charlotte asked, her face white.

  “We are not at liberty to discuss that.”

  “But why should he leave all his money to her? Her mother was the illegitimate child of his wife!”

  “Maybe that’s why,” said Alan. “He always was a vindictive old—”

  He stopped, his eyes widening, as Rachel got to her feet. She planted her fingertips on the top of the table; her eyes had grown huge and a stormy, sea green. When she spoke, her voice was low but throbbing with anger.

  “You are the most—the most—unfeeling people I’ve ever met! How can you sit there and talk about Mr. Laramore like that when he’s lying up there, dying? How can you think of nothing but his money? If anyone has a right to be embittered by his actions, I do! He ruined my grandmother’s life! But I’m trying not to judge him, especially now that he’s—he’s so sick. And I’m not interested in taking his money. I’m going to tell him I won’t take it. I’ve never asked for anything from him. I never even met him until today. He sent a letter asking me to come. So—so you can all just calm down, and rest assured that I won’t be taking what’s rightfully yours.”

  “Do you think we believe that?” Alan asked incredulously. “You’re going to turn down three hundred million dollars?”

  Lindsey nearly fell off her chair. Three hundred million! She’d supposed it was something like ten million, at the most! Rachel stood the shock very well; she clenched her fists but otherwise didn’t betray her own surprise. Lindsey was sure she’d never dreamed the Laramores were richer than King Midas.

  She happened to look at Jonathan at that moment, and he was looking at Rachel. He was almost smiling, and there was a gleam of admiration in his eyes. Lindsey shot a glance at Brianna, who was also watching Jonathan watch Rachel.

  Gerard spoke up, his accent thick. “I beg to be excused. Miss Rowan has kindly offered to allow me to stay the night due to the weather.” (He pronounced it weath-aire.) “Mr. Laramore, I shall wait in the living room until someone comes to show me to my room.”

  With that he rose and walked, with a peculiar combination of humility and haughtiness, from the room. Lindsey felt a rush of nerves and began to giggle. Immediately she clapped her hand over her mouth.

  Before anyone could speak, Brianna rose and said smoothly, “We are sorry, Miss Evans. You mustn’t think too badly of us. We’ve all been under a strain. Of course you and, er, Lindsey will stay the night as well. I’m afraid you don’t have any choice. According to the news, the roads near here are flooded and it’s still raining. I’ll find you some nightclothes. Come to my room later, won’t you? I’d like to chat with you.”

  Rachel simply bent to retrieve her napkin from the floor where it had fallen when she stood up, laid it on the table, and turned away. “Come with me, Lindsey,” she said, and walked out of the room with her head high.

  Lindsey hurried after her. They went up the stairs without saying anything, but instead of stopping at their room, Rachel turned and kept going until they came to the closed door of Mr. Laramore’s bedroom. She knocked briskly, and when the nurse opened it, she asked, “Is Mr. Laramore awake?”

  Hensley pushed back a strand of greasy brown hair. “No.”

  “Wake him then.”

  “I—I can’t do that. He needs his rest.”

  “I must see him before I leave. Call me the moment he wakes up.”

  Hensley blinked.

  Rachel turned and walked down the corridors to their room. When Lindsey had closed the door behind them, Rachel sat down on one of the beds and said, “Oh, my gosh! I’m starting to sound just like one of them!”

  “I thought you were terrific!”

  “Oh, I made a perfect fool of myself.”

  “You made perfect fools of them.”

  Honey was jumping up and down ecstatically. Lindsey picked her up and petted her, then set her back down. “I’ll bet she’s hungry. And I should have gotten her some water by now.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined your supper, Lindsey. Are you still hungry?”

  “Nope, I’m fine. Well, since we’re going to have to stay the night, why don’t you go see what Brianna wants to talk to you about? And she had a nightgown for you, too.”

  “I wouldn’t wear anything of hers, and I’m not interested in talking to her! There’s a dressing robe in the bathroom—I’ll sleep in that.” Rachel started toward the bathroom, saying, “I can’t wait to get out of this dress!”

  “Well,” Lindsey called, “I’ll just go see about feeding Honey.”

  Actually, she thought she’d better go tell Brianna that Rachel was too tired to talk, because she had a feeling that if Brianna came looking for Rachel, there was going to be trouble. As soon as she opened the door, Honey streaked away toward the stairs. Oh, well, she’d tend to her dog later. Barlow was passing by with what appeared to be an extra pair of pajamas for one of the men.

  “Er, Mr. Barlow, could you tell me where Brianna’s room is?”

  “It’s three doors straight down from this one, miss.”

  Lindsey slipped quietly along the hall, her feet soundless on the thick carpet. She rapped her knuckles on the wooden door; there was no answer, but the door opened a little under the pressure of her hand.

  “Hello?” she called, and stepped inside.

  The room smelled of cigarettes and was in complete disorder, cluttered with shoes and scattered clothing. The dresser overflowed with makeup and toilet articles, jewelry, a hair dryer, a hair curler, a wad of cash. Brianna certainly wasn’t a neat freak. The huge bed held lots of cushions, all flung helter-skelter. An antique-looking bench at the end of the bed held half-open purses and discarded theater programs.

  The closet door gaped open, revealing a long row of dresses and blouses, as well as a pile of clothes on the floor. Opposi
te the closet, the entire wall was covered with mirrored glass, making the room seem twice as large as it was.

  Lindsey could hear water running in the bathroom. Maybe she’d just sit here and wait for Brianna to come out. She closed the door and sat down gingerly on the unmade bed.

  Someone knocked on the bedroom door, much harder than she had. It startled her; for some reason she didn’t want to be caught sitting in Brianna’s room. She ran into the closet and ducked behind a group of floor-length dresses.

  Brianna came out of the bathroom, still in her chic black and red dress. Lindsey almost went forward—she’d barely escaped being caught eavesdropping once already, and it seemed unwise to press her luck. But when she looked up at the opposite wall and saw Jonathan’s reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t move.

  “Well,” said Brianna, “to what do I owe this honor?”

  He had discarded his jacket and pulled open the collar of his shirt, making him look less formal, and he had a strangely sober and determined look on his face. He closed the door behind him. “I have to talk to you, Brianna. It’s not pleasant, so I’ll just say it. We should break our engagement.”

  “What! What are you saying, Jonathan?”

  He spoke quietly. “I don’t want to marry you, Brianna. I’m sorry I brought you here, sorry about everything. But either you’re going to call it off, or I will.”

  “Jonathan, you know I didn’t mean—you know I have a temper—”

  “Yes, I know a lot of things about you now, and you know a lot of things about me. I’m glad we decided to wait a year before getting married. We didn’t know each other at all, did we? I’ll accept the blame for that. Surely you can see it hasn’t worked out.”

  “But I’ve already started making preparations!”

  “Cancel them.” He looked intently into her eyes. “I should have broken it off months ago, Brianna, but I was trying to sort things out in the office, and I was worried about my grandfather. It was wrong of me not to say anything before now.”

  “Then why tonight?”

  “Tonight,” he said, “my eyes were opened.”

  Brianna stared at him in disbelief. Then her own eyes narrowed. “Now I see everything! You’re going to dump me and go after her!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Rachel Evans! She’s going to walk away with all your money! Oh, it’s no coincidence that you chose tonight to break our engagement. Really, you could have waited a while and not been so obvious, Jonathan.”

  “I’m not interested in that money. I have my own. And I’ve never been overly fond of this house either. However, Rachel has nothing to do with how I feel about you, Brianna.”

  “Oh, you liar! Nobody walks away from nearly half a billion dollars. Not you and not her. And I’m not going to let her have it!”

  Jonathan looked wary again. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll find a way to stop the old man. And then we’ll see if you’re still interested in a poor little nobody like her!”

  He shook his head. “You are such a child, Brianna, a grasping, selfish child.” He turned to go, but stopped and looked back at her. He turned again so they were face to face. “You are not to go near my grandfather, and you are not to go near Rachel. Do you understand?”

  She glowered at him. “I’m under no obligation to do anything you say,” she said sullenly.

  “Oh, yes, you are—as long as you’re in my house. I’ll help you find somewhere to live, or fly you back to England, whichever you prefer.”

  “You won’t get rid of me so easily, Jon Laramore! You promised to marry me!”

  “Brianna, I apologize if I’ve hurt you. As I told you, I’ll do whatever I can to help you. However, I think it’s the money you love, not me. And you might as well get it out of your head.”

  “You can’t let it go, Jonathan. You have to do something!”

  “Listen to me.” His patience clearly had been stretched to the breaking point. “If you do anything, if you even try to speak to my grandfather, you will be sorry. Do I make myself clear?”

  Jonathan’s eyes suddenly began to search the room, as if he sensed he was being watched. Lindsey didn’t think she’d moved, but one of the dresses hiding her must have drooped the tiniest bit. He looked into the mirror and straight into Lindsey’s eyes.

  Her mouth dropped open and she felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head at her; fortunately Brianna was too busy pulling a handkerchief out of a drawer and dabbing at her eyes to notice.

  “I don’t know how you can talk to me like that,” she sniffed. “I feel you’ve done me a terrible injustice, Jonathan.”

  He seemed to be listening. “Did you leave water running in the bathroom?”

  “No!” But she must have been uncertain enough to wonder, for she turned to go into the bathroom. Jonathan gestured swiftly at Lindsey. She scooted out of the closet and ran toward him. She could hear Brianna coming back from the bathroom. Jonathan grabbed her and gave her a little push out into the hall—just in time, because she clearly heard Brianna say, “You must be imagining things…”

  Her heart was pounding so fiercely she could hardly draw a breath. She kept running until she came to the room she was sharing with Rachel, and almost flung the door open and went inside. But that was the cowardly thing to do, she thought. She had to face Jonathan sooner or later.

  “Oh, brother,” she said miserably. She wished she’d never set foot in Brianna’s room. Her eavesdropping career was definitely over.

  She decided to go downstairs and wait for Jonathan. It was only a little after nine; surely he wouldn’t go to bed this early. Then she remembered Honey.

  Her dog would need to eat and then go outside again. Lindsey eased down the stairs, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. She wasn’t quite sure why.

  “Honey!” she called in a loud whisper, leaning over the wide, polished banister to look below. “Honey, where are you? Honeee!”

  “I beg your pardon, miss?” Barlow stood at the bottom of the stairs. He regarded her with suspicion, his hairless brow raised and his cheeks sucked in. “Are you looking for someone?”

  “My dog,” she said shortly. “Her name is Honey.”

  “Oh. I took the liberty of feeding the animal earlier. Rice and chicken broth. She has a water bowl in the kitchen.”

  Lindsey forgave him for being pompous. “Thank you very much. Do you know where she is?”

  “Still in the kitchen, I believe. I suppose she’ll need to be—put out?”

  “Yes,” came a voice from behind her. “We’ll see to it. Thank you, Barlow. That will be all for tonight.”

  Lindsey closed her eyes for a moment, then turned to look up at Jonathan. He looked back at her gravely. “Come with me, won’t you, Lindsey?”

  She followed him guiltily past the dining room and into the vast kitchen. She had a quick impression of cupboards and a center island, granite countertops and lots of shining chrome. Honey was happily lapping at a dish of water. She wagged her tail and danced when she saw Lindsey.

  Reba stepped out of a side room, carrying clothes on silk hangers. “Oh, there you are, Miss Lindsey. Your clothes are ready. Would you like me to take them up or—”

  Jonathan answered, “Just leave them in the laundry room, please, Reba. We’ll take them up later.”

  “Very well. Is there anything else?” Reba looked hard at Lindsey as if to warn her to say nothing of her earlier conversation with Rachel.

  “That’s all. Thank you, Reba. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, sir. Miss Lindsey.” The tall woman moved toward a set of narrow steps and ascended them.

  “Here, you can let Honey out this way,” Jonathan said. “I think there’s an old leash here somewhere.” He opened a closet, rummaged around for a moment, and pulled out a long black leash. He attached it to Honey’s collar, opened the door to let her outside, and looped the end over the doorknob.<
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  “It’s stopped raining, for the moment anyway,” he observed, as he closed the door.

  “Do you have a dog?” Lindsey asked expectantly, trying to postpone the inevitable.

  “I did have one, a German Shepherd. His name was Max. He died several months ago—he got into poison somewhere.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” She could tell this was a sensitive subject, so she didn’t ask any more questions. She would just wait for the axe to fall.

  “Why are you looking like that?” he asked, with a smile. “I’m not angry with you, Lindsey. Come here and sit down at the table, won’t you?”

  They walked across the room to a round, cloth-covered table tucked into a large bay window. Jonathan held out a chair for her.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked courteously.

  “Orange juice?”

  He busied himself taking out glasses, opening the refrigerator, pouring the orange juice. He came back to the table and set a glass before her, then sat down with his own glass.

  “Lindsey, about what you heard…”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, with an odd sort of gulp. She hadn’t meant to cry, but for some reason her lip was trembling and tears were starting in her eyes. “I went in to talk to Brianna, and she didn’t know I’d come in because she was in the bathroom, and I heard someone in the hall. I thought someone was going to find me sitting there in her room, and I knew I shouldn’t be there, and so I just panicked and ran in the closet. And then,” she finished lamely, “I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.”

  “What were you going to do when Brianna walked out of the bathroom and saw you sitting there?”

  “Well, she’d already asked Rachel to come talk to her, and I wanted to tell her that Rachel wasn’t coming.”

  He looked thoughtful. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, but I suppose it does to you. Maybe you felt as though you were protecting Rachel.”