Lucky and the Drowned Debutante

by Emmy Grace

  I hold my breath, waiting for her to tell me that there’s no way she’s “charging” Liam just based on my word, but that doesn’t happen.

  “No prob. Happy to help,” she says, and then she hangs up.

  I stare at the phone, glee spreading through me. “Ha!” I exclaim. “Ha! She believed me.”

  Liam is glowering at me, but clearly his mind is still on the letter. He reads it a second time, only this time aloud.

  “I’m so sorry to do this, and on our honeymoon no less, but I’ve decided to stay in Switzerland. I’ve met someone. I didn’t plan for this to happen. I love you, Ari, but not like I should. I shouldn’t have said yes when you proposed, but Drummond wanted our union and Momma wouldn’t hear of me going against his wishes. That’s why I’ll be staying here. I can’t go back. I can never go back. I’m sorry. I truly am. You deserve better than this.”

  Liam slaps the laptop shut. “She was right to come to me. She was in danger. He was definitely planning on doing something to her before his covert return from Switzerland.”

  “And I’d give you a thousand to one odds that of those mysterious ‘papers’ he had her sign, this letter was one of them. So he’d have an authentically signed letter to explain to anyone who cared to ask why Dahlia Hayes up and disappeared.”

  “And not under duress.”

  “And not anything that her vile stepfather could get mad at Ari over. He’d still be in good standing with his father’s criminal crony. And he’d be footloose and fancy free.” I gasp.

  “What?” Liam asks.

  “Footloose and fancy free to date whomever he wants.”

  I stare hard at him.

  He narrows his eyes on me.

  “Leia,” he says.

  I nod. “Princess Liar. She’s in with these people, thick as thieves.”

  “Now, to prove it.” Liam moves to perch a hip on the arm of the couch. I get a good whiff of his soap or whatever it is that he uses.

  “What is that smell?” I blurt.

  Liam looks down at me. “What smell?”

  “Your smell.”

  “I don’t smell.”

  I roll my eyes. “Not a bad smell, like a smell.”

  “And yet that’s just exactly what you said.”

  “Well, it’s not what I meant.”

  “And I’m supposed to know what you mean when it’s not what you’re saying, is that it?”

  In consternation, I wrinkle my nose up at him. “Huh?”

  “I need a Lucky-to-English dictionary.”

  “You know, there’s probably an app for that. There’s an app for everything else.”

  He just stares down at me, blankly. I can just imagine what’s going through his head. It’s enough to make me grin.

  “We have such fun together,” I say.

  “We have a very different idea of what fun is.”

  “Fine, then I have fun with you. Is that better?”

  “Not really. I’m still stuck on this whole ‘you smell’ thing.”

  “I didn’t say you smell.”

  “You did.”

  “I meant that you smell good and I was merely asking what it is that I smell. That’s all. Sheesh.”

  “Then why couldn’t you have just said, ‘Do you wear cologne?’ or ‘What kind of deodorant do you wear?’”

  I’m incredulous. “You’re telling me that it would’ve been better for me to ask about your deodorant?”

  “Definitely.”

  “In what world? In what civilization is it more polite to ask someone about their deodorant?”

  “Since when are you concerned about what’s polite and civilized? You drove around town in a dress split to the waist covered by one of my shirts.”

  “That was by necessity.”

  “Was dressing like you were planning a trip to Hollywood Boulevard by necessity, too?”

  “For my purposes, yes. I was trying to sway you. By seduction.”

  “I need to teach you a thing or two about seduction then,” he mutters. “And a little something about me. If you want to sway me, ditch the dress and just wear something of mine. I’ll probably never get the image of you in my shirt out of my head now.”

  So, Cosmo was right.

  His eyes hold mine and oh, dear Lord.

  My belly does a big delicious flip, but I make no comment. I’m quickly learning that if there is to be no kissing then I’m going to have to keep a lot of my thoughts—and words and emotions and me—to myself. At this point, Liam and I are like a pile of dry kindling in brushfire season—one little spark and we’ll go up in flames.

  Fiery-hot glorious flames.

  Shew! Is it warm in here?

  I pat my cheek and change the subject. “Oh, I also meant to tell you that Dahlia’s mother is somehow convinced that you and Dahlia were having a fling, and that Dahlia dumped you to ‘fully commit’ to Ari, and you didn’t take it well.”

  Liam leaps up, every muscle in his body rigid. “What?”

  “Yep. And you know who must’ve told her this.” He nods. “Clearly, Leia’s a scheming whore.”

  I would’ve expected more reaction after he jumped up, but Liam gets almost eerily calm. It’s like he melts right in front of my eyes. His muscles loosen, his posture relaxes, and even his jaw unclenches.

  “So. That’s how it’s going to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know if she planned this before her visit with Dahlia about the reunion or not, but somewhere along the way, Leia hand-picked me. To set me up.”

  “Why on earth would she do this to you?”

  “I haven’t seen her in years. I don’t know if it’s because of the way things ended back in high school, or if it’s because of my work with the Bureau. Either way, she’s put me in the crosshairs.”

  It’s my turn to jump up. “I won’t stand for it. That lyin’ witch is going down!”

  One side of Liam’s mouth indents. “Will you be needing your Braveheart paint?”

  He remembers from the circus fiasco that Mel’s speech is my go-to inspiration before battle, even though my battles are more like skirmishes or, at worst, Three Stooges finger fights. Although there was that one time when I wrestled with a chick in a grounded airplane. And I did try to beat a man into submission with my shoe.

  Good times.

  “I think I’ll be skipping that today. Your mockery has ruined it for me, thank you very much,” I harrumph.

  “Don’t let me stop you from being a crazy person.”

  I turn an indignant look on Liam. My eyes are drawn into slits that I hope are intimidating, but am fairly sure are anything but. “Keep it up, mister, and see what happens.”

  “See this?” Liam says, pointing down to his boot-shod feet. “This is me, shaking in my shoes.”

  I glare at him. “Some days, I really don’t like you. Nope. Not one bit.”

  He surprises me by bending to kiss the tip of my nose. “Liar. Now come on, let’s go trap a traitor.”

  He grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the door. I’m off kilter after that sweet kiss. Dang you, Liam Dunning!

  “Wait, what are we doing? We need a plan.” I try to resist, but my legs are mush and it turns out I don’t really want to anyway. I’d probably let this impossible man drag me just about anywhere.

  “I have a plan. Don’t worry.”

  “But I like to make the plan. Or at the very least know the plan,” I argue, twisting the knob lock on my way out the door.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get to break a few laws. I’m not totally heartless.”

  Sadly, that makes me smile.

  He knows me so well.

  19

  Liam helps me up onto the passenger seat of his enormous truck. If I had mixed feelings about this beast before, they’re not nearly so mixed now. Not after driving it. I said it before and I’ll say it again: This thing is a menace.

  “So, what are we doing when we get to Leia’s lair?”


  “Her lair?” he repeats drolly.

  “What else do you call a criminal’s hideout?”

  He doesn’t bother to argue (which is good, because it’s inarguable); he just shakes his head. “I want to test a theory.”

  “What theory?”

  “I’m going to tell her that I have some information about Dahlia’s case that I want to share with her. Meanwhile, you’re going to sneak in, as you’re always so determined to do, and call those phone numbers to see if they ring anywhere in the house. I’ll keep her distracted.”

  I scrub my hands together. “A mission!”

  “Don’t get too excited. That’s all we’re going to do and then we’re leaving. Got it?”

  “Of course. I can’t get into too much. You didn’t even let me put on my skulking attire.”

  “Skulking attire?”

  “That’s what Beebee sometimes calls what I wear to sneak around.” I sigh happily. “I can’t wait until she gets here tomorrow. I’ve missed her.”

  “It’ll be good for you,” he says.

  “Do you have plans with your dad?”

  “We stopped trying to pretend to enjoy more than one holiday together years ago. We celebrate Christmas. That’s plenty for both of us.”

  I turn toward him. “So you’re going to be alone for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Liam, that’s awful.”

  “It’s not.”

  “It is.”

  “You make it sound like someone shot my dog.”

  “No one should be alone for any holiday, especially not when my Beebee is coming to town. There will be a feast at my house. Enough for ten families. You should come over.”

  Liam glances over at me. “Are you inviting me over to meet the family on a holiday?”

  “Uh, yeah. Duh. Is that not what it sounded like?”

  “That’s exactly what it sounded like.”

  It only takes me a few seconds to see what he’s getting at. “Oh, good grief. I’m not going to propose. And Beebee isn’t going to hold a gun to your head and make you marry me. It’s just dinner. There will be a lot of other people there.”

  “Like who?”

  “Regina, of course. And I invited Mrs. Stephanopoulos and Miss Haddy and Malcolm. And Suzie Lynn. And Chester. And One-legged Jack. I invited Clive, but his family does their own thing.”

  “And you’re going to have all these people in your tiny carriage house?”

  “Yep. There’ll be plenty of room.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “So you say, but do you have proof of this alleged mental condition?” Liam just shakes his head. “No, you don’t. But if you want some, you’ll have to come to dinner to get it. Proof like that can only be found when I’m in my natural habitat.”

  “And just what is your natural habitat?”

  “Large gatherings with good food. It’s my happy place.”

  “Are you bribing me to get me to come to dinner?”

  “Maybe. Are you opposed to such methods?”

  “I guess not. Just surprised is all.”

  “Why should anything I ever do surprise you? Have you not learned anything?”

  “Apparently not. Maybe I’ve been hit in the head too many times. That would explain all my many lapses in judgment when it comes to all things Lucky Boucher.”

  I grin. “I’m glad for your lapses. And I’m glad you stopped saying my name like it’s a four letter word.”

  “I’ve never—”

  “Don’t bother to deny it. We both know it’s true. But I knew I’d wear you down eventually. No one can resist my lucky charm.”

  “At least give me some credit for holding out longer than the others,” he says.

  “You put up an admirable fight, but resistance is futile. You just didn’t know that.”

  Liam pulls up in front of the little speaker box at the gate to Leia’s house. Before he hits the button, he looks over at me. “Get down. It has a camera.”

  I knew that.

  I just forgot.

  I duck down in the passenger seat until the two gate pieces move smoothly apart and Liam has pulled through.

  “Funny that she’d just let you in like this.”

  “She thinks I know something. I’m sure she wants to keep me close.”

  “I’m sure she does,” I mumble with a hint of bitterness. “Really, really close.”

  He drives the majority of the way to the house and then stops to let me out. “Wait over there by the bushes. When she lets me in, give me two minutes and then come in through the front. I’ll make sure not to push the door shut all the way.”

  “Where will you two be?”

  “She’ll probably offer me a drink in the den like she did last time, so stay away from that room. It’s at the back, toward the pool.”

  I salute. “Aye aye, captain.”

  I slip out the door, close it quietly behind me, and then dart over to the bushes. I peek up over the top of one and give Liam a thumbs up. Only then does he drive on.

  I have an excellent vantage point of the front door. He picked a good spot to drop me.

  Of course.

  Liam probably never makes a decision that isn’t carefully thought out. I, on the other hand, am the very definition of impulsive. That’s probably why we work so well together.

  I watch him pull to a stop. The moment he cuts the engine, the front door opens to reveal Princess Liar standing there awaiting him. She’s wearing some sort of royal blue sheath thing that probably makes her eyes pop. Why couldn’t we have come when she’s wearing a fuzzy bathrobe and her face is covered in zit cream?

  Probably because she doesn’t have either.

  She smiles her greeting and puts her hands on his shoulders when Liam bends to kiss her cheek. I gag silently and shoot arrows at her with my eyes. If only she could actually feel them.

  Her lips move as she speaks to Liam. I don’t know what she’s saying, of course, so I give my own interpretation. If I’m going to be forced to watch, then I get to say how it goes.

  “Oh, Liam. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve been lounging around in my most expensive clothes just waiting for you to drop by because I am a desperate whore.”

  When Liam responds, I drop my voice to imitate him. “You shouldn’t have bothered. You look like a piece of trash compared to the stunningly adorable Lucky.”

  Leia nods, her smile slowly dying. Then her lips move again.

  “I’m so jealous I might climb onto the roof and throw myself to the ground. I can’t live in a world where Lucky Boucher is wanted more than me.”

  I form my Liam reply. “I won’t stop you. The world is a better place without your unbearable treachery. And you have buck teeth.”

  She doesn’t, of course. Her teeth are perfect, but you can’t blame a girl for wishing.

  Liam sweeps his arm out and Leia nods, turning toward the open door. She steps through and Liam follows. Through the etched glass, I see him push it shut. Seconds later, the overhead light switches off.

  That’s when I start counting.

  “One Mississippi,” I whisper. “Two Mississippi.”

  I count to roughly two minutes, or as many Mississippis as I can tolerate, before I slink out from behind the bush and head for the front door. I’m sure I look like a hairless gorilla as I scoot sideways across the gap. My thighs are screaming by the time I get to the door. I didn’t think it looked like that long of a distance, but shew! I probably won’t be able to walk right tomorrow.

  I let my trembling muscles relax as I listen for voices at the crack in the door that Liam left me. I hear his voice, and it’s far enough away that I know I’m safe to enter.

  I squeeze through the opening and then carefully push the door closed behind me before ducking over into a shadowy corner of the foyer to hit SEND on the phone number I have pulled up. It starts to ring and my ears prick as I listen. I don’t hear any ringing here at the house, so I tip
toe silently to the left, along a hall. I pause in front of each door and listen intently for the ringing of a phone.

  I hear a generic message start to play from my phone as the voice mail kicks on, so I hang up and hit redial to repeat the process. I walk by every door on this whole side of the house, but there are no ringtone noises of any kind as I pass.

  I hang up and hurry back to my starting position and start on the part of the house that lies to the right of the foyer. It appears that, while the left side contained the guest quarters, the right side is more for business. It has an office, a home gym, a library and some other room with a locked door. My fingers itch to sneak in there and see what’s worth securing, but I don’t have time for that kind of snooping. I’m on a mission.

  No ringing phones on that end either, so I retrace my steps.

  Back at the foyer, I’m forced to choose between three directions. Well, two really. I can’t go straight ahead since that’s where Liam’s distracting Leia, so that leaves me with the sweeping staircase. I can either go up it or down it.

  I figure the master is probably on the upper level, overlooking the pool and the pretty view. It’s probably the whole upstairs. And while Leia might keep her secret phone up there, my gut tells me to take the flight going down. And when my gut, lucky as it sometimes is, gives me a nudge, I’m always rewarded when I take it.

  I descend the steps into pitch-blackness. I hang up the phone, hit redial again, and then turn on my flash light app so I can see what I’m getting myself into.

  The stairs curve gently into a basement that is finished into a whole second residence. I sweep my light around a nice sized kitchen and dining combo area that’s open to a living space. A big one. Big enough to hold a small theater screen, four theater chairs, and an enormous sectional along the wall to my right. The pillows on it are in disarray, which is my first clue that this isn’t a room that goes untouched. Someone has been down here. Recently.

  Very recently.

  I shine my light around and note that there are two doors down here. One I assume leads to the mechanical room where all the functional stuff is, and I assume the other probably leads to a bedroom. Or a spa. Or maybe even to a wardrobe that opens to another kingdom. This place is probably big enough to hold it.