After staring at it for a second, I realized it looked as if the arrowhead I had been clutching as I dove from my car burned its outline into my skin. Immediately, I reached for the piece of flint, but there was nothing around my neck except the leather thong. The arrowhead must have broken off the cord and fallen into the dirt when I jumped from the car.
Although I searched for the arrowhead for several minutes, it was nowhere to be seen. Also missing was one of the heels on my pumps. I tried to pry off the heel from the other shoe, but it wouldn’t budge.
The footwear situation made me check out the rest of my appearance. My beautiful black Armani slacks had split down the rear seam. Good thing I was too curvy to wear a thong. And my silky-white blouse hung in tatters from the collar.
Shit! Double shit! I had lost all my suitcases and would now have to arrive in Echo Springs looking like something that had refused to go down the garbage disposal. So much for blending in with the locals.
Sighing, I took a limping step toward my new hometown. An instant later, I stumbled to a stop. Before the Hummer had started to chase me, I had been about to change a flat tire. And that had required emptying the trunk to get to the spare.
My luggage hadn’t gone to a watery grave with my Camaro, it was a mile or so back by the side of the road... unless someone got to it before I did.
I kicked off my ruined shoes and broke in a swift jog. Though I’m normally not a fast runner—the trainer at my health club despaired at the slow speed I selected on the treadmill—the incentive of reclaiming all my cherished clothing, shoes, and purses had me sprinting as if I was a chubbier version of Florence Griffith Joyner.
Flo-Jo had nothing on me as I spotted my abandoned luggage and raced toward the finish line. I sank down to the ground and gathered the precious bags into my arms.
While I sat on the ground, catching my breath, I realized my mad dash to rescue my belongings had been unnecessary. There hadn’t been another vehicle on the road before or after the Hummer came after me.
Shoot! No cars meant I’d have to hike the last eleven miles to Echo Springs. How would I do that carrying three suitcases, a garment bag, and a makeup case?
When an answer didn’t immediately pop into my mind, I pouted. I’d already left so much back in Chicago—my apartment, my job, my name, and my whole life. Impractical or not, I couldn’t bear abandoning my prized wardrobe too.
CHAPTER FIVE
Wrong Day’s Journey into Right
It took me a while to come up with a solution, but my luggage and I were finally making our way down the road when I heard a car approaching from the north.
At first, I was relieved at the prospect of a ride, but then I hesitated. After my recent experiences, and the warnings in my aunt’s letter, how could I be sure that the occupant was a friend and not a foe?
After all, my ex, a man I could have sworn was Melvin Milquetoast, nearly killed me twice. My ability to judge human nature wasn’t anywhere near as good as I had previously believed.
If I was smart, I’d hide. However, before flinging myself into the nearest ditch, I checked the time. It had taken me more than an hour to travel half a mile. I was pretty sure that the three suitcases I was dragging behind me like a trio of reluctant puppies were the reason I was so slow.
Although to be completely honest, it could also have been the garment bag and makeup case I was lugging in my other hand. Surely, the purse strapped across my chest wasn’t the reason I was slower than a coffee pot brewing the morning’s first cup of caffeinated heaven.
Then again, no matter what the cause for my snail-like progress, at the rate I was going, I wouldn’t make it to Echo Springs until the Fourth of July.
Biting my lips, and with my stomach churning, I stood my ground while an elegant 1950s Bentley came into view. The shiny black car made a sweeping U-turn and purred to a stop in the middle of the road.
I was somewhat reassured when a short, rotund man of seventy or so hopped out of the car. His plush white hair, twinkling blue eyes, and pink nose reminded me of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. The notion was reinforced when he came toward me, peering at his pocket watch.
I half-expected him to mutter about being late for a very important date, but instead, he said, “Well, butter my butt, and call me a biscuit, look who’s here.” He snapped his watch closed, tucked it into his vest pocket, and grinned. “Miss Alexandria, you’re the spitting image of Dora.”
That had to be a nickname for Pandora, right?
Thinking that since my aunt’s attorney was the only one who knew I was coming to Echo Springs it was reasonably safe to guess his identity, I said, “Mr. Mayer?”
“Call me Uncle Will.” He took off his fedora, squashed it under his arm, and held out his hand.
“You’re my uncle?” When we shook, I noticed his skin was soft, but his grip unexpectedly firm.
“I should have been, but Dora kept putting off the wedding. Then she died.” He brushed at the jacket of his brown tweed suit.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Yours too.”
“Uh, right? Thanks,” I stammered.
I wasn’t quite sure if I had experienced a loss or not. Pandora might have been my aunt, but I hadn’t known of her existence until two days ago when the devil’s tornado had blown through my life sweeping my previous existence out the door.
Uncle Will took out his watch and looked at it again, then hurriedly started to load my luggage into his trunk. “We should get going.”
After I helped him get my suitcases stowed away, I climbed into the passenger side of the expensive car. When Uncle Will took his seat, I had to hold back a giggle. He could barely see over the steering wheel.
Putting the Bentley in gear, Uncle Will drove off at a stately twenty miles per hour. At this speed, there was a good chance we still wouldn’t make it to town until Independence Day.
Once I realized he wouldn’t go any faster, I asked, “Where were you going before you rescued me?”
“To pick you up.” He waved as he passed an old tractor hauling a farm cart.
“But...” I was bewildered. “How did you know I was here and needed a ride?”
Uncle Will ignored my question and pointed out a ranch on the right side of the road. “This land, for as far as you can see, belongs to the Furmans. They’re one of the founding families of Echo Springs.”
I spotted a sprawling farmhouse surrounded by a rail fence, set back on a piece of ground that was surrounded by acreage that still held the stubble of last year’s crops. It was the first house I had seen since turning onto the unpaved road. “Why isn’t that field planted like the one back there?”
“That was winter wheat, which is planted in September and usually harvested in June. They use this land for corn, which needs warmer weather. The next section is where the cattle graze.” Uncle Will added, “The Furmans have owned this property since before Kansas became a state. The original settler married a Comanche chief’s daughter.”
Considering how little interest I had in agriculture or history, “oh,” was the only thing I could think of to say. Besides, I needed answers to my questions, not a social studies lesson. “How did you know I was coming at this exact time?”
“That’s not important.” He was silent until we got into the city limits, then as we drove down Main Street, he nodded to a row of buildings consisting of a beautifully maintained old hotel, an elegant restaurant, and a 1940s style movie theatre. “These businesses all belong to Cole Pendergast.”
“Impressive.” The scene looked like one of those toy towns that department stores set up at Christmas time. Charming, but a little eerie in their perfection.
“The Pendergasts are also one of the founders of Echo Springs.”
“How interesting,” I murmured politely, then tried once again to get Uncle Will to answer some of my questions, “Speaking of interesting, a lot of peculiar things have been happening to me since I got your letter, a
nd the coup de grâce was you showing up out of the blue precisely when I needed you. Just how did that happen?”
Uncle Will dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Right place, right time.”
“Really?” Obviously, my dear “uncle” wasn’t telling me everything.
He pulled the Bentley into a parking spot in front of an imposing red brick structure. Across the front window, WILLIAM MAYER, ESQ. ATTORNEY AT LAW was lettered in gold.
Uncle Will hopped out of the car and I followed suit, determined to make him explain what was going on. He held open the door to the building, and I walked by him into the reception area. To my left was a desk holding a computer and an overflowing inbox, and to my right was a sofa flanked by an end table stacked with magazines.
Silently, Uncle Will took my elbow and led me into his office. He indicated a pair of leather wingback chairs facing his desk, and I sat in the one nearest to the door. We seem to be at an impasse, and I tried to figure out his wants and needs as I did with the customers in the boutique, but couldn’t get a clear picture.
Slightly alarmed at my inability to read him, I frowned. I had never before been unable to read someone if I really tried.
While I was attempting to analyze my feelings about that, Uncle Will settled himself behind his desk, fussed with a stack of folders for a couple of minutes, then said, “As the firstborn of your generation, you’ve inherited the entire Ravenscraft estate.”
“What does that encompass, exactly?” To me, the word estate meant wealth, but that wasn’t the impression I had gotten from Aunt Pandora’s letter.
He looked at the papers in front of him and reel off, “The house and all its contents, the vehicle, all monetary assets after her debts have been paid, and, of course, Pandora’s Candy Box.”
The Candy Box part sounded good. Unlimited chocolates, caramels; oh, and the truffles, mustn’t forget the truffles. But it didn’t look like I’d be replacing my Camaro anytime soon. How much profit can there be from a candy store in a small town?
And, with my luck, the rest of my inheritance wouldn’t be in the six-figure range either. On the bright side, if I owned a business, I wouldn’t need to find a job, I’d already have one. I hoped my money held out until I could start working.
With my meager finances in mind, I asked, “How long until I can claim the estate?”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Uncle Will peered at me over his half glasses. “I’m the executor, so you can move into the house tonight and start managing the store as soon as you’re ready.” He winked, and added, “And it looks as if you’ll need Dora’s vehicle right away too.”
Now how could he know that? Why would he assume my car was permanently out of commission instead of broken down somewhere? I started to ask, but he shoved a pile of papers toward me and said, “Sign here, and here, and here.”
“What are these?” I tried to read what he was asking me to sign, but the print seemed blurry when I attempted to focus. I shrugged it off, figuring that I was just too tired right now to deal with the legalese.
“Just documents I need to probate the estate for you.”
“Uh, could I take them and read them tonight and get them back to you tomorrow?” I wasn’t signing anything I hadn’t read. My mother had had a lot of faults, but she hadn’t raised any fools.
“Sure. Sure. No problem.” Uncle Will gathered the papers up, swiveled toward a cabinet behind him, and then back forward, handing me a large manila envelope. “Didn’t mean to rush you. I forgot you weren’t raised around here and might not trust me as the others do.”
What others did he mean? The Ravenscrafts? His clients? The whole town?
“Maybe I should get a hotel room until we get this all settled.” I suggested reluctantly, mentally counting my limited cash.
“No.” Uncle Will leapt to his feet, consternation written across his face. “Really. This is all a formality. The house and everything else is all yours. You’re supposed to live there. It’s the safest place.”
“Safest place, what do you mean? Am I in danger?” Had I jumped from the frying pan into the fire?
“Uh, what I meant is, uh, safe as in comfortable. Your aunt wouldn’t want you to stay in a hotel.”
“Right.” He was obviously holding something back, and just as plainly, he wouldn’t tell me what it was, at least not today. “Then, if it isn’t too much of an imposition, could you drop me off at the house? I’m pooped. I’d kill for a shower and some sleep.” I was even too tired to eat. Hey, maybe I had finally found a diet that would work for me. What would I call it? The Run for Your Life Weight Reduction Plan?
“Now?” Uncle Will’s little pink nose twitched. “But they’re all waiting to meet you.”
“All who?” My heart sank at the thought of meeting people. I’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt after my clothes had been ruined in the accident, and I looked like I had been plowing the back forty or slopping the hogs. Not that I knew what either of those phrases meant.
“Well, they’re a bit like the chamber of commerce.” Uncle Will rushed on trying to entice me. “We’re meeting at Cole’s restaurant. There’ll be lots of good food and wine. I’m sure you’re hungry after your long trip.”
“Why do they want to meet me?” I thought of what my aunt had written about being careful whom I trusted, but she had said I could rely on Uncle Will. “Were they all friends of Aunt Pandora?”
“Allies, associates, adversaries.” Uncle Will tried to steer me toward the door, but rabbits don’t have much in the way of herding abilities, and Uncle Will was more bunny than Border collie.
“Couldn’t I meet them tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to get myself together?” I clutched my tote bag and refused to move. “If I met a few at a time, I’d have a better chance of remembering their names and stuff.”
“That wouldn’t be a good idea.” The white mustache on Uncle Will’s upper lip drooped. “It’s important you be introduced to them right away, as a group, and with me to guide you.”
What the...? He made it sound like I was the new queen being presented to the nobility for the first time. And they would decide whether to crown me or send me to the guillotine.
I was ready to give in, since this seemed so important to him, then I had an idea. “I’ll make a deal with you. You answer my questions, and I’ll go meet the aristocracy.”
“What questions?” Uncle Will’s bushy eyebrows met in a vee above his nose.
“The ones you’ve been avoiding since you picked me up.” My patience was growing thin.
He whipped out his pocket watch and said, “I’ll answer one question, then we really must go.”
“Three. And real answers, not tricky ones.”
“Two.” He twitched. “These are not people you want to keep waiting.”
“It’s a deal.” What was my first question? I wanted to know more about the contents of Aunt Pandora’s letter, but I was pretty sure he had no idea what she had written, so I settled for asking, “How did you know I would need a ride at precisely the time you came to get me?”
He smiled, suddenly looking more like a fox than a rabbit, and I wished I had put more conditions on the answers. “When you phoned me, you said you were leaving the next day. I figured you wouldn’t be able to drive all the way through and would stay overnight somewhere near Kansas City. Estimating you would leave KC around eight or nine, I calculated you would arrive at Echo Springs between two and four. When you still hadn’t appeared by four-thirty, I went looking for you. I thought perhaps you had gotten lost or had car trouble.”
“Okay.” His answer seemed fairly reasonable. If he were just my aunt’s lawyer, it would be a bit of a stretch for him to mount a search party, but since he thought of himself as my honorary uncle, I could understand him wanting to take care of me.
Now what was my second question? I chewed my lip until it came to me. “Why haven’t you asked me where my car is?” I could tell he was pleased with his
last answer, but maybe this would wipe that smirk off his face.
He smiled again, this time I could see some hyena in his heritage. Taking my elbow, he said, “I saw the break in the guardrail on the bridge, and figured your car must have gone into the river.” He moved me into the reception area. “I was relieved you hadn’t gone over with it. I don’t want to scare you, but if you had, we would probably have never found you. We have a saying around here. Whatever goes into the Ricochet River doesn’t bounce back out.”
Well, that was a relief. If the saying was true, my murderous ex-boyfriend was long gone. It was just a shame he’d taken my Camaro with him. “Aren’t you curious as to why my car went off the bridge and how I got out?”
“Sorry. That was your third question,” he smirked.
“But there was another vehicle involved.” I realized that I probably should have mentioned Gil and the fact he and his Hummer had gone off the bridge earlier, then again, there was so much happening to me, it had nearly slipped my mind. “We need to notify the police.”
“No problem.” Uncle Will smirked again. “The Echo Springs police chief will be at the party.”
At that, the bunny reappeared, and with his nose twitching, Uncle Will tugged me toward the outer door.
“Look, I’ll go to the meet and greet, but shouldn’t I change first?” I gestured to my jeans and sweatshirt.
“You look fine. We’re pretty casual around here. Not like those highfalutin’ city folks.” He succeeded in getting me into his car and closed the passenger door on my protests.
After a short drive, during which I used a Wet One to wipe the dirt off my face, combed my hair, and put on some lipstick, we pulled into a spot in front of the restaurant he had pointed out earlier.
Uncle Will immediately hopped out of the Bentley, darted around the hood, and opened my door. He tugged me out of the car, pulled me up to ornate double doors with MIRAGE etched into the glass, then swept me inside.
Without giving me a chance to look around, he guided me through the restaurant and into an enormous private room in the rear. Decorated in red velvet, brass, and mirrors, it reminded me of old-world mansions I had seen pictures of in travel books. That or a bordello. I’d seen pictures of those, too.
A Call to Charms Page 5
