Authors: Nora Roberts
“Is this how you accomplish a mission?”
“I can do more than one thing at a time. Let’s just put this aside here so I can think about it.” She wandered down the case. “You doing all right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t actually try to have a conversation and spoil your record.”
Tory opened her mouth, shut it again, blew out a breath. “I’m all right, a little shaky inside, I guess, but all right. How about you?”
Faith glanced up, smiled thinly. “See, your tongue didn’t turn black and fall out or anything. I’m well enough. Been gathering the gossip as I go. And don’t bother to look down your nose. You’re as interested in what people are saying as I am.”
“I’ve heard what they’re saying. I’ve had considerable traffic in here today. People love to come in and get a look at me, then flap about it all. It’s different for you, Faith, you’re one of them. I’m not. I don’t know why I thought I ever could be.”
“I can’t understand why you’d want to be, but if you do, you just have to stick with it. People get used to you around here. They’d get used to a one-eyed midget with a limp if he lived here long enough.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Let’s see this bracelet. Cade seems to have gotten used to you mighty fast.”
“Pink and blue topaz in silver. Lobster-claw clasp.”
“Very nice, very Lissy. Those earrings there. She’d want them to match. She doesn’t have the imagination for otherwise.”
“Seems odd you taking the time to pick out gifts for her when you don’t appear to like her.”
“Oh, I don’t dislike her.” Faith pursed her lips and considered the earrings. “She’s too silly for me to work up the energy to dislike. Always was. She makes Dwight happy, and I like him. Box these up, and wrap them up pretty. Dwight’ll owe me big. I think I’ll take this necklace for myself. Cheer up my mood.”
“You’re turning into my best customer.” Tory carried the jewelry to her counter. “Hard to figure.”
“You have things I admire in here.” Bee had fallen
asleep with the bone in her mouth. Faith stopped long enough to beam at her in adoration. “Plus you seem to be making Cade happy, and I like him even more than I like Dwight.” She leaned on the counter while Tory boxed Lissy’s gifts. “Fact is, you’re sleeping with my brother. I’m sleeping with your cousin.”
“That practically makes us lovers.”
Faith blinked, snorted, then threw back her head and laughed. “Christ, that’s a frightening thought. And here I was wondering if I should consider us being friends.”
“Another frightening thought.”
“Isn’t it? Still, it occurred to me yesterday when we were sitting out there that you and I were probably feeling the same thing, thinking the same thing. Remembering the same thing. That’s a powerful connection.”
Tory tied the cord very carefully, very precisely. “It was very considerate of you to stay with me. I tell myself, often, that it’s better to be alone. But it’s difficult. Sometimes it’s very difficult.”
“I hate to be alone. More than anything else in the world. I am, so often, irritated by my own company.” She caught herself, laughed. “Well, listen to us, having almost an intimate conversation. I’m going to give you Dwight’s nice fresh cash for Lissy’s, but I’ll charge mine.”
Before she could reach into her purse, Tory reached out, laid a hand on hers. Odd, how it had become easier to touch, to be touched, since she’d come back to Progress. “In my life I never had another friend like Hope. I don’t know as any of us ever have friends the way we do as children. But I could use a friend.”
Flustered, Faith stared at her. “I don’t know that I make a particularly good one.”
“I know I haven’t, not since Hope, so that starts us on level ground. I think I’m in love with your brother.” She let out a long, shaky breath, moved her hand to keep it busy. “If it turns out I am, I think it would be nice, for everyone, if you and I could be friends.”
“I know I love my brother, though he is a regular pain in
my ass. Life has some awfully screwy angles.” Faith laid Dwight’s money down, took out her credit card. “You close up at six, don’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Why don’t you meet me after work? We’ll have us a drink.”
“All right. Where?”
Faith’s eyes glittered. “Oh, I think Hope Memorial would be appropriate.”
“I’m sorry?”
“In the swamp, you know where.”
“For God’s sake, Faith.”
“Haven’t been there yet, have you? Well, it’s time, I’d say, and it strikes me as a good spot to see if you and I turn a corner. Got the belly for it?”
Tory snapped up the credit card. “I do if you do.”
She hauled groceries home, and met Lilah’s complaint about her late arrival with just enough bitchiness at being given the chore in the first place to satisfy them both.
“And don’t start yapping that the tomatoes are too soft or the bananas too green, or next time I won’t be your errand girl.”
“You eat, don’t you? Don’t do another damn thing around here I can see, so you can haul the food in once in a blue moon.”
“The moon turns blue around here more than it used to.” Faith got out the iced tea, two glasses, then settled down to relay the gossip.
“So.” Lilah sat down, shifted comfortably. “What are they saying?”
“All manner of things, most of which are as far-fetched as a liberal Republican. Lot of people are saying it must’ve been an old boyfriend or a lover. A new, married lover. But I ran into Maxine in produce, and it turns out she was friends with Sherry, and she says Sherry didn’t have a boyfriend just now.”
“Don’t mean some idiot man didn’t think he should be.” Lilah took out her lipstick, twirling the tube up and down.
“I heard she let him in though, ‘cause her dog didn’t send up a racket and there wasn’t no break-in like people thought at first.”
“Letting a man into your house doesn’t mean you want him to rape you.”
“Didn’t say so.” Lilah colored her lips, rubbed them together. “Just saying a woman’s got to be careful. You open a door for a man, you better be ready to boot his ass right back out again.”
“You’re such a romantic, Lilah.”
“I got plenty of romance in me, Miss Faith. I just balance it with good hard sense. Something you’re missing when it comes to men. Maybe that poor girl was missing it, too.”
“I’ve been sensible enough to kick plenty of them out on their ass.”
“Had to go and marry two of them first, though, didn’t you?”
Faith took out a cigarette, smiled blandly. “I could have married more than two. Least I’m not a spinster.”
Lilah met the smile equably. “Marriage was all it’s cracked up to be, it’d last longer. That girl, she didn’t have an ex-husband, did she?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Faith?” Margaret stood in the doorway, her face rigid. “I need to speak with you. In the parlor.”
“All right.” Faith rolled her eyes at Lilah, crushed out her cigarette. “I should’ve found more to do in town.”
“You show your mama some respect.”
“It would certainly be a shock to the system if she did the same for me.”
She took her time wandering to the parlor. Stopped once to check her manicure, another to smooth her hair in the hall mirror. When she walked in, her mother was sitting, stiff as dry plaster.
“I don’t approve of you gossiping with the servants.”
“I wasn’t. I was gossiping with Lilah.”
“Don’t take that tone with me. Lilah may be a valued member of this household, but it’s inappropriate for you to sit in the kitchen and gossip.”
“Is it appropriate for you to eavesdrop?” Faith slumped into a chair. “I’m twenty-six years old, Mama. It’s a long time since it would do you a lick of good to lecture me on behavior.”
“It never did any good. I’m told that you were with Victoria Bodeen yesterday. That you were together and were responsible for contacting the police.”
“That’s right.”
“It’s distressing enough that you have any connection with a situation as unseemly as this, but it’s intolerable that you are now linked with that woman.”
“That woman being Tory rather than the one who was raped and murdered?” Faith’s spine stiffened, but she remained lazily slumped.
“I will not have it. I will not have you associating with Victoria Bodeen.”
“Or?” Faith waited a beat. “You see, there aren’t any
or
’s at this point in our lives, Mama. I come and go when I please and with whom. I always did, but now you really have nothing to say about it.”
“I would think out of respect for your sister you would sever any connection, however tenuous it is, with the person I hold responsible for her death.”
“Maybe it’s out of respect for my sister that I’ve made this connection. You never could stand her,” Faith said conversationally. “I took your lead there, I suppose. You would have forbidden Hope to associate with her, but you could never really bring yourself to forbid Hope anything. And if you did, she got around you. She was infinitely more clever than I in that area.”
“Don’t speak of my daughter in that manner.”
“Yes, your daughter.” Now the brittle tone reflected in her eyes. “Something I never quite managed to be. Here’s something you may never have considered. Tory isn’t responsible for what happened to Hope, but she may very well be the key to it. It might bring you comfort to remember Hope as a bright light, as a life cut off before it really lived. It would bring me more comfort to finally know why. And know who.”
“You won’t find your comfort, or your answers, with that woman. You’ll only find lies. Her whole life is a lie.”
“Well then.” With a bright smile, Faith got to her feet. “Just gives us one more thing in common, doesn’t it?”
She walked away, putting a swagger in her step.
Margaret got immediately to her feet, walked quickly out and into the library with its towers of books and ornately plastered ceiling. She made the call first, tugging on the strings of friendship to request that Gerald Purcell come to her as soon as possible.
Assured he would make the trip within the hour, she walked to the safe secreted behind an oil painting of Beaux Reves and took out two folders.
She would use the hour to study the paperwork and prepare.
Shortly, she ordered tea to be served on the south terrace, along with scones and the frosted cakes she knew Gerald had a weakness for. She enjoyed the ritual in the afternoons when she was at home, the china, the silver, the precisely cut wedges of lemon, the mix of brown and white sugar cubes in the bowl.
As long as she was mistress of this house, she thought, it was a ritual that would be preserved. Beaux Reves, and all it stood for, would be preserved.
It was warm for tea alfresco, but the white umbrella offered shade, and the gardens provided what Margaret considered the appropriate backdrop. The tree roses that flanked the brick in their giant white pots were heavy with bloom, and her hibiscus added an exotic touch with their crimson trumpets.
She sat at the rippled glass table, hands folded, and looked out over what was hers. She had worked for it, nurtured it, and now, as always, she would protect it.
She glanced over as Gerald came through the terrace doors. He’d roast in the suit and tie, she thought idly, as she lifted a hand to his.
“I appreciate your coming so quickly. You’ll have some tea?”
“That would be lovely. You sounded troubled, Margaret.”
“I am troubled.” But her hand was rock steady as she lifted the Wedgwood teapot and poured. “It concerns my children, and Beaux Reves itself. You were Jasper’s attorney, so you understand the disposition of the farm, the properties, the interests of this family, as well as any of us. Better perhaps.”
“Of course.” He sat beside her, pleased that she remembered he preferred lemon to milk.
“Controlling interest in the farm was passed to Kincade. Seventy percent. That holds true for the factories, the mill as well. I hold twenty percent, and Faith ten.”
“That’s correct. The profits are divided and dispersed annually.”
“I’m aware of that. The properties, such as our interest in the apartment buildings, the houses that are rented, including the Marsh House, are in all three names, equally. Is that also correct?”
“Yes.”
“And, in your opinion, what impact would it have on Cade’s changes to the farm, his new operating system, if I withdrew my support, used my twenty percent and my influence with the board to sway them back toward more traditional methods.”
“It would cause him considerable difficulty, Margaret. But his weight is heavier than yours, and the profits add to his end of the scale. The board has no say in the farm in any case, just the mill and the factories.”
She nodded. “And the mill, the factories, help keep the farm running. If I were able to persuade Faith to add her interest to mine?”
“That would give you more ammunition, certainly.” He sipped his tea, pondered. “Might I ask, as your friend and your lawyer, if you’re dissatisfied with Cade’s performance at Beaux Reves?”
“I am dissatisfied with my son, and I believe he needs to put his mind and energies back into his inheritance without having it diverted into less worthy channels. Simply,” she said, as she buttered a scone, “I want Victoria Bodeen out of the Marsh House, out of Progress. At the moment Faith
is being difficult, but she will come around. She’s always been a creature of the moment. I believe I can persuade her to sell me her interest in the properties. That would give me a two-thirds control. I would assume that the Bodeen girl has a year’s lease on the house, and on the building on Market. I want those leases broken.”
“Margaret.” He patted her hand. “You would be wise to let this lay.”
“I will not tolerate her association with my son. I will do whatever is necessary to end it. I want you to draw up a new will for me, cutting both Cade and Faith off.”
He thought of the scandal, the legal tangles, the vicious amount of work. “Margaret, please don’t be rash.”
“I won’t implement the will unless I have no choice, but I will use it to show Faith just how serious I am.” Margaret’s mouth thinned. “I have no doubt that when she realizes she stands to lose such a large sum of money, she will become very cooperative. I want my house back in order, Gerald. It would be a great favor to me if you looked over those leases and found the simplest way to break them.”