by Jade Astor
“About that,” Rikki said, leaning closer to Darian and pretending to scrutinize his face. “You’re looking a little pale as far as I’m concerned. Make some time to tan while you’re here. That goes for you, too, Argo.”
“We’ll do our best,” Argo said. “Might take us a while to thaw out, though. The snow was still a foot high when we left for the airport.”
“We want to hear all about your school, Darian,” Rikki went on, reaching for her coffee cup. “Minus the dead bodies you keep stumbling over, of course. The less said about those, the better.”
“No worries,” Darian said. “From now on, I’m leaving all the detective stuff to Argo. He gets paid to investigate crimes, after all. I don’t.”
“Agreed, though I’d be happy to cut back on the police action for a while,” Argo said. “Never thought I’d miss the days of petty larceny and disorderly conduct. But lately I find myself pining for them.”
Darian smiled at him. “Our New Year’s resolution is to have the most boring winter possible. If we’re lucky, the spring will be even less eventful.”
Rikki held up her coffee. “Here’s to a quiet Christmas season, and continued peace of mind, body, and spirit afterward.”
The four of them clinked coffee cups. Darian noticed Ange was slow to lift hers. But she offered the group a forced smile and eventually settled into conversation.
After dinner, Rikki announced that she had to return to the hotel in order to finish some spreadsheets she’d abandoned in order to greet Darian and Argo. To Darian’s surprise, Ange didn’t object, and volunteered to take care of the dishes alone.
“You don’t want to keep Gabrielle waiting,” she said under her breath as Rikki apologized yet again and picked up her car keys.
“Argo and I will be happy to help,” he offered after Rikki had gone.
“Not a chance. You two go out and sit by the pool. I’ll join you as soon as I load up the dishwasher. Won’t take me long. I manage on my own most every night lately.”
Instead of insisting, which he sensed would be futile, Darian led Argo out to the patio. They dragged two lawn chairs up to the end of the pool and settled side by side, watching the safety light shimmer on the water’s glassy surface. The hum of insects and the occasional trill of a nightbird gave the darkness a pulse. Rather than finding the atmosphere calming, though, Darian grew agitated.
“This whole day has been awkward,” Darian said after a while. “Sorry, Argo.”
“No worries. I understand family drama, believe me. Been part of it a few times myself.” Argo paused as if thinking something over. “Can I ask you something? You might not want to answer, and that’s okay.”
“I’ll answer if I can. Fire away.”
“Which one of them actually gave birth to you? I mean, physically. I’ve been trying to work out which one of them you resemble most, either in looks or temperament, and I can’t figure it out.”
Darian laughed. “That’s a touchy subject. I asked them myself, more than once, and they always refused to tell me. I’m both of theirs, they said. I understand that, I always told them. But I want to know anyway.”
“So you did find out eventually?”
Darian opened his mouth to answer but closed it again when Angela came through the sliding glass door.
“Can I join you?” she asked.
“By all means,” Argo said.
“We were just talking about you.” Darian stood up and motioned her forward. “Have a seat. We need to talk, and now’s a good a time as any.”
“You’re right.” Moving slowly, as though she dreaded what was coming next, Ange closed the door behind her and stepped onto the patio. “We do need to talk.”
“Maybe I should step out for a while,” Argo said, beginning to rise also. Darian took his hand and pulled him back down.
“I want you to be part of this conversation. I hope that’s okay with you, Mom, but if not, you’ll just have to adapt.”
Ange sighed and shook her head. “It’s all right if Argo stays.”
“Good. I’ll speak first. Mom, what’s going on? So far, this visit isn’t anything like I was expecting. Why are we tiptoeing around on eggshells, and what’s with the lack of Christmas decorations? And most importantly, what’s up with Rikki? Didn’t she care that Argo and I were flying in today? And didn’t she want to spend the evening with us?”
“Of course she cares. And she’s been looking forward to seeing you and spending time with you more than anything. It’s all she’s talked about for weeks.”
“Then I really don’t get why she’s not here. Okay, so things are chaotic at work. She couldn’t have ducked out for an hour while you picked us up from the airport? This is her first time meeting Argo. I don’t believe for a minute that she couldn’t make some time.”
“I know it wasn’t right of her,” Ange hedged. “And I can’t speak for her, but…well, she has a lot on her mind right now. We both do.”
This time Argo did stand up. “Let’s be up front about what’s really going on. I’m sorry if my being here makes you uncomfortable. I don’t want to ruin your Christmas or your visit with Darian. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to come in the first place. If you think it would be better, I’ll go to a hotel.”
“And just so you know, Mom…if he goes, I’m going with him,” Darian said. He stood up beside Argo and took his hand. Ange shook her head.
“No, no. Please, both of you, sit down again.” They did. “Argo’s presence isn’t the problem at all. We agreed we wanted him to be here. He’s part of your life, Darian, and that means he’ll part of ours too. Obviously, we want to get to know him. Maybe then…” She stopped as though knowing she had said too much.
“Maybe then you’ll come to accept what he does for a living?” Darian pressed, his cheeks warming with annoyance.
“It’s okay,” Argo said. “She’s being honest. I appreciate that.”
“Thank you. And Darian, the…ah…anxiety you’re sensing in the house is real. But let me assure you, it has nothing to do with either of you. The truth is, ever since she got her promotion at work, Rikki’s been taking off like this a lot.” His mom sighed and raked a nervous hand through her bangs. Her wedding ring flashed between the graying strands of her hair. “Why don’t we start over?”
“Okay.”
Ange took a seat on a chaise longue a short distance away, her face hidden by a shadow. Her silhouetted profile reminded Darian of those shows that used lighting and audio distortion to obscure the identity of a witness. Ange’s voice wasn’t distorted, of course, but his perception was, the way things sometimes flickered in and out of focus in a dream. He wasn’t sure yet it if it was a good or bad one.
“I’m sorry about the Christmas decorations,” she began. “I assumed Rikki would stick around long enough to start on them tonight. I guess it’ll have to wait, though.”
“It’s okay,” Darian said. “There’s plenty of time. We’ll get to it.”
“It’s not simply a matter of time,” Ange said. “And you’re right. Rikki could make time if she wanted to, despite the party preparations. And it’s not about you or Argo, though I can’t blame you for assuming that.” She paused and took a deep breath. Darian got the sense she was fighting to keep her voice even. “It’s actually because things are tense between us right now.”
“I figured that much out,” Darian admitted. In truth, he was relieved to shift the conversation away from him and Argo. Whether this was the direction he wanted to go in, he wasn’t so sure. But here it was. “Do you…uh…want to tell us what exactly is going on?”
“It involves the hotel and new owner, Gabrielle Duval. I guess you could tell I’m not crazy about her.”
“That was pretty clear from the beginning, yeah. What’s the problem?”
“At first I thought it was just the usual.” Ange waved a hand as if trying to part the dim light like a curtain. “She’s a demanding boss. She’s a perfectionist. She wants Rikki at t
he hotel all the time. I get that. Rikki’s the best employee anyone could ever have. They both insist this new schedule is just until after the holiday party. Then things will go back to normal. I have my doubts, though. Not about the job or the schedule. About Gabrielle herself.”
“Tell us about her,” Argo said.
“She’s the widow of the original owner, Bruno Duval. They met on some kind of a castle tour in Europe. A whirlwind courtship, I hear, and about six months ago, he died. No real shock, since he was eighty years old. Gabi’s a lot younger. Like thirty years younger. She got over him pretty fast, if you know what I mean.”
As much as he didn’t want to, Darian thought he did understand what Ange was getting at. Her next words removed any lingering doubt.
“I think she and Rikki are having an affair.”
Chapter 2
Darian felt the blood drain from his face. He didn’t dare look over at Argo. It took him a few moments summon his voice.
“They…what? An affair? As in Rikki’s cheating on you?”
Ange’s silhouette slumped lower on the chaise longue.
“I can’t prove anything, and I don’t know how far they’ve gone. At first, it was just a matter of working late now and again. New job, increased responsibilities, learning curve—okay, I accepted all that. After all, I know how much her career means to her. She supported me when I had to stay at school for meetings and take off for weekend conferences. But eventually I realized this isn’t the same. It seems like she’s always at the office, and when she’s home she might as well not be here. She barely says a word to me—spends all her time on her laptop, which she closes if I come too close. If Gabrielle calls her, she runs out of here like her hair’s on fire.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Darian’s chest seemed to collapse. What kind of embarrassing mess had he stumbled into, with Argo in tow? What a terrible idea this whole vacation had been. Maybe fate was trying to tell him something when it almost hadn’t happened after Argo had been shot earlier in the fall. “Are you sure you’re not just misinterpreting things? I mean, maybe there was data on her computer that she was obligated to keep confidential.”
“What could be confidential about ordering hotel supplies?” Ange’s voice rose. Then she got control of herself again. “I mean, I guess it could have been human resources documentation, but I bring stuff like that home from the college all the time when we’re interviewing new instructors and such. I never hide any of it from her. Surely she doesn’t think I’m plotting identity theft.”
“No way would she ever think that.” The idea of Rikki shielding hotel documents from her spouse did sound pretty far-fetched. “But are you sure you didn’t just overreact? She probably senses your stress, and that puts her on edge, too. And then the situation escalates.”
“Darian’s speaking from experience,” Argo observed.
“Believe me, I’ve gone over all those possibilities in my mind—over and over them, in fact, until I drive myself crazy trying to separate reality from perception. What it comes down to is that I can’t trust Gabrielle—or Gabi, as she insists we all call her. Yep, you heard right. Gabi! Can you imagine? Sounds like she should be in an ad offering—well, I won’t say it.”
Darian finally glanced at Argo, who raised a brow.
“You’ll have to see this woman to believe her,” Ange went on. “She’s like something from those night-time soaps Rikki and I used to watch in college back in the ’80s. Perfect hair, diamond watch, and designer clothes from Europe. Orders wines by year and vineyard—the whole package.”
“She doesn’t sound like someone Rikki would be interested in,” Darian objected, but he instantly regretted it. “Not that I meant you’re…uh, you know.”
“No need to apologize. You’re absolutely right. I’m her complete opposite, and I make no apologies. Capri pants and Birkenstocks have always worked just fine for me. I’m an academic, not a fashion plate. And until recently, that’s always been good enough for Rikki, too. Anyway, I don’t even think this is about her looks—at least, not entirely. I think it’s more the way Gabi flatters Rikki—leans on her, gives her extra responsibility at the hotel and the restaurant. Too much, if you ask me. But it makes Rikki feel important in a way I don’t seem to anymore.” Sighing, Ange gazed down at her feet, shoulders sagging in resignation. “I figured once she got past the first burst of excitement over her new title, things would calm down again. But they never did. This isn’t about career management or even a passing flirtation with an exciting new acquaintance. It’s almost like…well, I don’t even like to say it out loud. But there’s some barrier between us. It never used to be like this until Gabrielle came along.”
An awkward silence filled the pool room.
“I still don’t believe it,” Darian finally said. “I can’t.”
“I don’t want to, either. I shouldn’t have said anything to you until I had more to go on. But I can’t come up with any other explanation that fits, and you have a right to know what’s going on. Her not being here today—I wasn’t shocked at all, to tell you the truth. I’m just waiting for her to start crashing at the hotel in an unused room, claiming she needs to get a jump on her morning. After all, Gabi’s living there, too. She blew in from Europe the day after her old man’s funeral and took over the business. She also took over my life.”
Darian winced, horrified. Still, the image of a shadowy woman sneaking down a long, dimly lit corridor like someone in a spy movie prompted a thought. “Mom, wait. I brought a skilled detective along with me. Maybe Argo can help us figure out what’s going on.”
“No! I don’t want Rikki investigated. Absolutely not!” Ange flung up both her hands, palms outward. “I’m sorry, Darian. I’m only making things worse. And I definitely shouldn’t have dumped all this on you when you just got here. Forget I said anything.”
Darian scoffed. “Like that’s going to happen.”
“I should apologize to you, too, Argo. You must have a pretty poor impression of our household so far.”
“Not at all.” Argo gave her a smile Darian couldn’t imagine her resisting. Sure enough, he felt her warming toward him. “Remember, I’m not here to judge. Just to get to know the people Darian cares most about.”
“Sounds like you’re finding out way more than you ever wanted to,” Ange said.
“I’m glad he knows,” Darian told her. “I don’t want any secrets between us. And I wasn’t kidding when I said he might be able to help. He can be objective about things. However you might feel about cops, you have to admit they know how to interpret clues. Or at least Argo does. Just since I’ve known him, he’s solved three murders. Plus one cold case.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t dwell too much on that,” Argo cautioned him. “I get the sense it’s kind of a sore spot around here.”
“You’re not wrong about that, Sheriff Sullivan.” Ange tried and failed to suppress a smile. “I won’t deny that your job has given us some scares as far as Darian’s safety. But he seems to handle himself pretty well in those situations.”
“Hey, you can’t blame all of that on me. Your son’s gotten himself into some scrapes on his own. In fact, I’m usually the one who bails him out of trouble.”
“I’m beginning to realize that. Well, we won’t worry about catching criminals while you’re here. All you have to do is munch on seafood and sip drinks with umbrellas stuck in them. The rest will work itself out...one way or the other.”
To Darian’s relief, Ange seemed relieved as she got up and left the room. Hopefully, her suspicions about Rikki were the result of her imagination running wild. Extra responsibilities and stress at her hotel job could easily account for a change in behavior. After all the years they’d been together, he couldn’t imagine either of his moms running off with someone else.
On the other hand, couldn’t passion fizzle after a long relationship grew routine and predictable? He’d always cherished the fact that his household was so secure. He
’d never even heard Ange and Rikki argue, at least not about anything serious. But what if unrelenting stability was part of the problem?
He was so caught up in his racing thoughts that he didn’t notice Argo moving closer. A strong arm slid around his shoulders.
“Hey, are you okay? That couldn’t have been easy to hear. It was tough for me, and they’re not even my moms.”
“There’s got to be some kind of misunderstanding. No way would one of my moms cheat on the other. No way at all. And especially not with a person named Gabi.”
He realized, even as he said it, how lame his protests must have sounded to Argo, the man he had just praised for his ability to assess the situation objectively.
“I’m sure you’re right. There’s probably nothing going on at the hotel other than people putting in long hours to make the holiday season successful.” Argo gave him a quick one-armed hug, leaned over, and kissed the top of his head. Darian slid his hand around Argo’s.
“This is all going to work out, right? Tell me I’ve got nothing to worry about here.”
“Of course you don’t,” Argo said gently. Darian could tell he was trying his best to be supportive. He could also tell that Argo didn’t really believe what he was saying.
The next morning, Darian awoke to the tantalizing smell of fried eggs and strong coffee drifting down the hallway and into his room. It was a replay of a scene he’d experienced countless times during his childhood, though now there was one important difference—the man curled up in bed beside him. Argo was finally asleep after half a night of tossing and turning. Darian knew he was uncomfortable in a house where his hostesses were at odds, though he had been too polite to say so and instead had blamed it on the unfamiliar mattress.
