“Paris postmark. No return address. He’s from New York isn’t he?”
“Yes, the city.”
“And he tried to strangle you as I recall when your grandfather shot at him. This man he mentions in the letter—
“Maxime Beaumont. He’s a corporate lawyer in a family practice. His grandfather founded the firm in Paris.”
“You’re sure he’s the father of your baby?”
“Hawk,” Marie glared.
“Yes. He’s the father.”
Hawk felt better hearing Gilly’s voice gaining strength. “I don’t want to cause you more alarm, but if Spiky tells Beaumont he’s a father-to-be, what do you think he’d do? I’ll give you the answer. I don’t think he’ll leave his wife, fly to Seattle, and ask you to marry him.”
“What are you saying?” Maria asked.
“He could come after you, not to ask you to marry him but to cause you harm. Have you told your parents about him?”
“No. My two roommates helped me with my story that the father was dead. They are the only ones who know I’m pregnant. Then Gramps last night when I opened the box. He read the letter to me, and now you two.”
“Your parents are wonderful,” Maria said her voice strong belying the doubt creeping in. “They’ll understand … after they digest the truth.”
“Understand? Mom … probably. Dad, I don’t know.”
“Well, ladies, I have to get back to the reservation so to speak,” Hawk chuckled hoping to lighten the mood.
“I’ll see if I can meet with DuBois tomorrow,” Gilly said.
“Good, Put that box and the wrapping paper in a zip-lock bag.” Hawk winked at Gilly. “Evidence. Who knows. Maybe the creep is bluffing.”
“I’m staying to help Gilly. We need to get going with the samples for the collection,” Maria said. “Everything is under control at the spa.” Turning to Gilly, she added, “I followed Hawk’s suggestion and hired an assistant a few days ago, which reminds me, Gillianne, we have some news for you.”
“Good I hope,” Gilly said looking up at Maria.
“Very good. We’ve set the date for our wedding.” Maria bent down and kissed Hawk’s cheek.
“And?” Gilly said.
“Two days before Christmas. I know, I know, it’s not far off, but we want a small wedding on the reservation and there’s really only my mom and stepfather on my side.”
Gilly stood and threw her arms around Maria in a bear hug. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you both.” What a storyline, Gilly thought. She and Maria met on their first day at design school, Maria dropped out of school meeting Hawk one day with Gilly, she started working at the spa, and now … a wedding.
“We have to talk,” Maria said. “Lay out your plans for when, or if, you’re still thinking of moving the studio to Seattle. Hawk found office space he likes. His business is expanding outside the tribe, and an office in the city will work—closer to his contacts at the gaming commission. And, wonderful man he is, he found an apartment for us. I haven’t seen it yet—except the pictures on the computer. It looks perfect.”
“Oh, I wish I could move as fast,” Gilly replied. “I mentioned weeks ago, Maria, that I had contacted a realtor. She keeps calling me about one space after another. She came up with one a few days ago that looked perfect. I just don’t have the money yet. But I’m not giving up.”
Hawk stood, set his coffee mug in the sink and gave his fiancé a warm embrace. “I’m sure the two of you will come up with something. I have total faith in both of you.”
Hawk turned to Gilly, placed his hands on her shoulders. “You should talk to Skip.”
“No, no. I can’t.”
“I’m tied up for a couple of days so I can’t go with you to see DuBois but Skip could I’m sure.”
“Oh, Hawk, I can’t. He …”
“He needs to know the truth, Gilly. You owe him that much don’t you think?”
Chapter 31
───
THE SEWING MACHINES HUMMED incessantly the rest of the morning, stopping only when Gilly or Maria took her foot off the pedal for a quick drink of coffee or milk. Hawk’s words repeated in Gilly’s head until she wanted to cover her ears. What would Maxime do if he found out she was pregnant?
He might challenge the statement. Being a lawyer, he would know that would be a losing argument. Harm her? Surely he wouldn’t be that cruel.
Milan had to mean something to him didn’t it?
Then there was Skip. Last time they talked he stormed away knowing she was lying to him. But the truth? How could she ask him for his help? But she also didn’t want to face DuBois alone. Hawk wanted to accompany her—a lawyer protecting the interests of his client. But she wasn’t really a client. Not yet. No money to pay him … yet. She was merely going to see DuBois to put the threat she had received in front of him, ask his advice on what she should do, what role would the police play?
Maria purposely didn’t quiz Gilly about what she was going to do. She knew her friend had to have time to think. Maria’s only words were to ask Gilly to check the muslin sample of look number three—were the darts deep enough or too deep, did the collar fold as she wanted, did the drape of the dress flow as she envisioned?
Gilly finally stood, stretched, rubbed her lower back. She looked at Maria bent over her sewing machine watching the pounding needle as she fed the fabric under the foot.
“Hey,” Gilly said with a smile.
“Hey what?” Maria replied without looking up.
“Let’s break for lunch, get out of here for an hour. What would you say to a cup of tea and a turkey wrap at the Tea Room?”
Maria’s foot immediately lifted from the foot pedal. “I’d say, I thought you’d never ask. Let’s go.”
Gilly pulled on her sweater, grabbed her purse, and the pair stepped out the door inhaling the fresh air washed with the morning’s rain.
Sitting down in the homey environs of the Port Gamble Tea Room, light pink walls punctuated with white lace curtains, they gave their order to Anne after a brief hug from each girl. When she returned with the pot of tea, Gilly tugged at her mom’s arm pulling her close. “Mom, can you and dad come over to Gramps for dinner tonight? I have to talk to you both.”
“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll have time to make a chicken potpie this afternoon—I’ll bring it along.” Anne patted her daughter’s shoulder and moved on to the next table as Maria poured the tea.
The little brass bell tinkled as Helen Churchill bustled in with a couple of plastic bags marked Port Gamble General Store. Gilly’s hand darted to Maria’s arm. Maria looked up following Gilly’s look of alarm. Seeing Gilly, Helen made a bee-line to her table. “Gillianne, can I share a bite of lunch with you?” Not waiting for an answer she plopped down, setting her purse and packages on the chair next to her. “Tell me, how is everything? You look grand. Being pregnant suits you. Maria, nice to see you.” Helen thanked Anne for the tea and ordered a tuna-salad sandwich. “You girls are quiet. Penny for your thoughts?”
Gilly took a sip of tea. “Helen, have you talked to Edward recently?”
“No … well, he called just before you returned from Paris … or was it just after … sometime around then. Why?”
“Oh, just wondering if he went back to New York. He and I had a nasty scene.”
“Oh, I know. I’m so sorry. That boy can be so headstrong. Spoiled rotten by that mother of his. I don’t understand how our son could let his wife get away with coddling the boy the way she does. He lost his job you know, and as far as I can see he has no intention of looking for another one.”
Gilly and Maria exchanged a quick glance cradling their warm teacups.
Helen looked at the pair with sad eyes. That grandson of hers was a ne’er-do-well. Hearing about his attack on Gilly, and that her grandfather stormed out of the house with a gun, had upset her greatly. She wished she could make amends for him … maybe someday. “What are you and Maria up to?”
�
��Working hard, Helen. Trying to get a new collection together as fast as we can. The owner of The Working Girl shop in Seattle is ready to put a display in the window and Nordstrom’s has shown some interest. Trouble is the commuting is taking up time, and Maria may soon be living in Seattle. A realtor called me about an apartment that would make a wonderful live-in studio but I just don’t think I can swing it.”
“My, my, so much you’re taking on. Is this apartment available?” Helen asked adding a sugar cube to her tea.
“It is now, but I don’t know for how long.” Gilly leaned forward her forearms on the table.
With the look of a cat that was about to lay a prize mouse in front of Gilly, Helen cocked her head, looked over at the display of china cups and saucers, her lips slowly turning up. “You know, dear, I’ve been waiting for the right time to help you along and I have a proposition. I guess you could say a business proposition.” She grinned as the girls’ heads snapped up. What was Helen thinking?
“How much is the rent on this apartment?”
“$1100 a month.” Gilly held her breath.
“Oh my, that’s doable. Yes, very doable. How about I loan you the monthly rent for the first six months … give you a chance to get your collection ready and in front of potential buyers. In that time I would think you might have a few sales, and you’d be on your way. If you need a little extension, another month or so, you could let me know.”
Gilly’s hand again shot out grabbing Maria’s arm. Did Helen just offer to loan her the money for an apartment? Seed money to start her business?
“Helen, I’m not going to let you think about what you just said. I accept your offer. I’ll have my attorney write up an agreement.” Smiling at Maria, she added, “I think my attorney could have that ready by tomorrow, don’t you, Maria?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, this is so exciting,” Helen said beaming. “I was talking to my husband just last night about you. ‘Loan them some money,’ he said. His very words. ‘All new startups need an angel to help them along.’”
Gilly jumped up and kissed both of Helen’s rosy cheeks. “He’s right. You are my angel. My lifesaver. It would take me months to build adequate funds to make the move. Helen, this means Gillianne Wilder Fashions is a giant step closer thanks to you.”
Leaving the tearoom, Gilly gave her mom a kiss and said she’d see her at dinner. Anne noticed that whatever Gilly wanted to tell her suddenly didn’t seem so bad. She and Maria strode out to the car a renewed spring in their steps.
───
CHICKEN POTPIES IN INDIVIDUAL ramekins, a tossed salad, and buttermilk biscuits were on the dinner table as the Wilder family sat down to eat.
“Dig in everyone before the pies get cold,” Anne said picking up her fork.
“Looks mighty good, Anne,” Gramps said. “Of course these biscuits are going to raise havoc with my waistline.
“What waistline is that, Dad?” Will chuckled as he reached for the blue-cheese salad dressing.
“So, Gilly, you said this afternoon that you wanted to talk to your dad and me. I presume that includes your grandfather.”
“Of course.” She looked at Gramps catching his wink although a knot suddenly gripped her stomach. “So much has happened the last twenty-four hours … I’m not sure where to begin.”
“I suggest you stop playing with that piece of chicken and start from the beginning,” Will said picking up another biscuit.
“Okay. There are really three things.” Gilly looked at her family. They’re not going to be happy about any of this, she thought. There’s no easy way to tell them.
“A package came in the mail yesterday, here, addressed to me.” Gilly walked to the dryer, opened her tote and pulled out the zippered plastic bag. She set it on the table between her mom and dad.
“What’s in the box?” Will asked.
“Go ahead, open it, son.” Gramps gave a reassuring pat on Gilly’s shoulder.
Anne opened the bag and handed the box to her husband. “The brown paper is postmarked Paris?” She looked up at Gilly who was holding her breath watching her father lift the lid.
“That Goddamn son of a bitch,” he snapped.
“Oh, Gilly, no!”
“Yes, Mom, another spike. There’s more. Dad, please, you and mom, read the note.” Gramps gripped her hand tight as they both watched for their reaction.
Will’s lips tightened, his eyes closing to mere slits as his brow furrowed. “You lied to us. The father isn’t dead and this son of a bitch is blackmailing you.”
Anne closed her eyes, leaned back, unable to look at her daughter.
Will shoved the box, the note, and the brown paper back in the bag, yanked the zipper shutting the bag. “Is it true?”
“Yes, I loved—
“Loved? You know nothing about love. You go traipsing off to Paris, without our blessing, and come back pregnant. Spare us the rest. That’s all I need to know.” Will got up and poured a shot of bourbon into a highball glass. He leaned against the refrigerator, sipped his drink, as Anne robotically cleared the dinner table. “So, what are you going to do about this, this letter?” he asked.
“I talked to Hawk this morning and he said I have to go to the police. He suggested Detective DuBois. He’s the detective Skip followed during the investigation of the gold robbery—when Gramps found the key—
“I know about the key. I’m asking you what you’re going to do. So far you’ve said you’re going to the police.”
“Will, give her a chance,” Anne said. Standing behind her daughter’s chair, she gently kissed the top of her head, stroked her hair, and sat down.
“That’s it … as far as the detective goes. I don’t know what he’ll say.” Gilly went to the stove, poured boiling water over a teabag, nodded to Gramps asking if he wanted a cup. He nodded he would.
“Gilly, you said there was more you had to tell us,” Anne said with a sigh.
“When Maria and I had lunch at the tearoom today, you saw Helen Churchill come in and sit with us?”
“Yes, but what—
“She offered me a loan—a loan to pay the rent for an apartment in Seattle that will double as a studio to start—
“My God, Gilly, out of the blue this woman offers to pay your rent? In Seattle?”
“It wasn’t exactly out of the blue, Dad. She asked what I was doing and I mentioned to her that I had a couple of requests for samples, and one thing led to another, and that the commuting was becoming a problem but I didn’t have enough money to pay rent and start my business, and she—
“And she jumped at the chance to throw her money around?”
“Not exactly. She felt bad about the incident with Spiky, ah, her grandson, and Gramps having to shoot at him to scare him away. She said she had been trying to come up with a way to make amends … and … so, this is her way.”
“Gilly, are you saying you’re going to move to Seattle?” Anne asked turning to face her daughter to see if Gilly meant what she was saying but knowing she meant every word.
“Yes, Mom, but it’s not far … just across the sound.”
“But the baby. How?”
“You did it, Mom. You had me. Took me to work with you—there are pictures of me in a … in a basket.”
Chapter 32
───
GILLY WAS RELIEVED HER parents knew the real story about the baby’s father. Before they left for Port Gamble, her father brought his temper under control and even volunteered to go with her to see DuBois—putting his arms around her signaling a truce. She thanked him but said Skip would accompany her. Of course, she didn’t let on that she hadn’t asked Skip yet. Ready to leave, her mom had jumped out of the car telling her she’d bring her chicken potpies if she lived in Seattle or Victoria, Canada. Laughing, they wrapped their arms around each other one more time both wiping a tear away.
She loved her parents. They always seemed to rally around her no matter what she threw at them, but
last night was a little over the top she had to admit. Her mom had whispered that her dad was excited over the prospect of a grandchild. Not so much about her plans to move to the city.
───
THERE WAS SO MUCH to do in Seattle today. Thankfully the forecast for rain proved to be wrong. The day had dawned bright and sunny. After Helen’s bombshell that she would loan the money needed to rent an apartment, Gilly had called the realtor arranging an appointment to see the place. She also called her obstetrician for a referral to a doctor in Seattle. That was another appointment. But the most important item on her mind was the call she had put off. Skip.
Popping the morning vitamin tablet into her mouth she finished her glass of milk and went outside. Strolling to the front of the house she sat on the top step of the rickety stairs leading down to the beach and punched a number on her cell. Shading her eyes from the sun’s rays bouncing off the water, she listened to the ring of Skip’s cell.
“Skip Hunter.”
“Hi … it’s Gilly.”
Silence.
“I know. I haven’t forgotten your voice,” he said in a low husky voice.
Silence.
Tension transmitted one to the other.
“What’s up?”
“I’d like to see you … today if possible. I have to talk to you … and I need a number for Detective DuBois.”
She caught him off guard with that one.
“That’s a strange request.”
“Can you meet me today? Can you meet me at the ferry terminal? I’m about to leave the house so I can just make the nine o’clock.”
“Okay, the terminal. Are you all right? You sound … different.”
“I’ll explain when I see you.”
───
SKIP’S HEART PUMPED OUT of control when he saw her walking toward him at the main entrance inside the ferry terminal. She looked beautiful. Her hair had grown several inches over the last year falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She always garnered furtive peeks from passersby. Today was no exception. Even though she looked under control he still saw her as vulnerable. Damn it, he wanted to take her in his arms but there were too many walls blocking him to make a move. He jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out.
Murder by Design Trilogy Page 33
