“As arranged, I’ll help you get your stuff over to Serena’s house.”
“But—”
“I’ll brief my assistant to help if you have any queries about the will, or Mrs. Pood—uh, Porter,” he said.
“Right,” she said, and when he finally met her gaze he saw she was calm and composed if a little wary around the eyes.
“You can go now if you want to. I don’t need any help.What I’m taking is nothing compared to the props I drag around with me sometimes.”
“I insist. It’s important no one follows you to Serena’s house.”
She shrugged. “Okay. If you insist. But,Tom ...”
“Yes,” he replied, wondering if she was going to say she was relaxing the rules and what he’d do if she did. Kiss her again? Explain how there was no way he was going to forget about the five-year plan?
“You won’t forget to say good-bye to Brutus, will you? He’ll miss you.”
Another sucker punch. Brutus would miss him?
Yeah, he guessed the little mutt had gotten attached to him. Maybe, just maybe, there might be something in this alpha-male business after all.
But would Maddy miss him? Because he suddenly knew—fight the thought as he might—that what she felt about him was important.
Really important.
Eleven
Maddy let herself through the front door of Serena’s house—a cute, remodeled Victorian in the Mission District. She’d been safely ensconced here for six days.
She was exhausted but buzzing. It was dream-come-true time at last. Today she’d been officially appointed food editor for
Annie
magazine. But the frosting on the cake was that she was up for an audition for the television show next week.
The editor in chief was understanding about the media attention—but only to a point. “No one who knows you could possibly believe you would boink that old man,” she’d said. “But I don’t want a senior editor involved in any scandal. Keep off their radar.”
So far there had been no further tussles with the tabloid reporters. Maddy knew for her career’s sake it had to stay that way.
She was dying to share her news about the job with Serena. But as she walked down the hallway she could hear the faint rumble of a male voice coming from Serena’s sitting room.
Tom? Her mouth went dry and her heart started to race. Although he’d called every day to check that Brutus was okay, he’d been cool, impersonal. Like an attorney doing business, not a man who’d passionately kissed her not so very long ago. Who’d held her hand in the sexiest way you could imagine and gave her a head massage that had nearly sent her into orbit.
He hadn’t even let her commiserate with him when the tabloid had given him the same “dig for dirt” treatment they’d dished out to her.
But then why would he act any differently? She’d blown him off by invoking the two-date rule. And she’d been wondering ever since if she hadn’t made a big, fat mistake in doing so. She’d missed him way more than she could have imagined, his company as much as his kisses.
Was he here? She stopped to listen again, more intently, before she entered the room. Disappointment swept over her. That wasn’t Tom’s distinct, husky voice. Already she knew she would pick it out from a roomful of conversation.
So who was the guy with Serena? Her boyfriend, Dave, was in the navy and away at sea. Serena was a one-man woman but from the laughter coming from the room she was certainly enjoying this man’s company.
Maddy froze with shock when she saw who Serena’s visitor was. Quite at home on the sofa and with a half-empty glass of white wine in front of him was Jerome.
He rose. “Ah, the delightful Madeleine,” he said, moving to kiss her on the cheek.
Maddy ducked to avoid him and wiped her cheek where his mouth had nearly made contact. She glared at him. “Don’t you mean ‘vixen’?”
She signaled frantically with her eyes to Serena. How could she have let him in? How could her friend be laughing and flirting with this despicable, dog-poisoning man?
“Ah ... that. A word I would never use. Unfortunately I was misquoted,” said Jerome.
“I’d like to believe that,” Maddy said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, but you must. It took me a while to track you down so I could apologize,” Jerome continued in that rich, plummy voice. Only now Maddy felt it was edged with menace.
“Perhaps I didn’t want to be tracked down,” she said, not attempting to mask her truculence.
But the smile remained pinned to his face. “I’ve been enjoying the company of your charming and beautiful friend,” he said, indicating Serena with an elegant wave of his hand.
“And I was just about to fix some coffee for us,” said Serena. “Won’t you give me a hand, Maddy?”
Maddy let herself be dragged into the kitchen. Before she could chastise her friend for letting Jerome through the door, Serena hissed, “I’ve kept him chatting until you got home. Now you can call the police.”
“The police?”
“Yes. Get him for attempted dog murder.” Serena’s eyes flashed with excitement.
“Great idea.” Maddy wondered how she could have doubted her friend.
She reached for the telephone. But then she seemed to hear Tom’s reasoned tones echoing in her head. She withdrew her hand. “Uh, but we don’t have any proof, Serena. Tom would say we need concrete proof. Evidence.”
“What about the poisoned T-bone? Tom said they had it frozen in the laboratory where he sent it for testing.”
“I know, but we only suspected Jerome put it in the kennel. We don’t know for sure.The police would just laugh at us.”
Serena’s face fell. “Darn, I thought we had him.”
“Unfortunately not. We’d better get the coffee before the creep gets suspicious. Maybe we can think of something else.”
She took the tray with the coffee mugs into the living room. It was disconcerting to find Jerome wandering around the room, idly picking up Serena’s framed photos and examining them.
“So you’ve got a dog, too, Serena,” he said, putting down a picture of Snowball.
Maddy swore she could hear menace again in his tone. Fear gripped her.
“No, I mean, yes, I mean, he’s ... he’s at the vet,” Serena lied.
“And Brutus is, too—at the vet, I mean,” added Maddy, almost tripping over her words.
Jerome whipped around. “You mean Brutus isn’t well?” His eyes narrowed. “The press reported he’d made a full recovery.”
Maddy felt sick to her stomach as she followed his train of thought. Brutus was just fine, but that was no thanks to Jerome.
“He’s at the vet to be ... to be wormed.” She crossed her fingers and hoped Brutus wouldn’t start yapping from out back.
“Oh.” Jerome’s face fell. He sat down again. He sipped his coffee. “You’re living here with Serena now, are you?”
How the heck did he know that? Had he been stalking her? The thought sent unpleasant shivers down her spine.
It choked Maddy to have to converse with him but what could she do? Accuse Walter’s great-nephew with no proof?
“No. Yes. Well, tonight I’m going away for work,” she invented wildly. “Upstate. On location. Picnic stuff. No one will be able to contact me ...”
“Oh,” said Serena, catching on quickly. “You’re, uh, going tonight?”
“Yes. Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. Last-minute change of plan,” Maddy babbled.
“I’ll help you pack,” said Serena. Then, with an expressive lift of her eyebrows she added, “Jerome ...”
“Of course,” he said, putting down his mug and getting up. He was so polite, so sophisticated, his British accent so smooth and assured, Maddy wondered if she could have been wrong about him.
“But before I go,” he said, “I’ve brought a gift for Brutus.” He pulled out of his leather satchel the most enormous block of chocolate Maddy had ever seen—dark chocolate that she now knew contained the highest concentration of the dog-deadly chemical. “I know the little mutt has a sweet tooth and—”
Serena gasped.
Maddy snatched the giant chocolate bar from his hand.“Sweet tooth! You must know darn well chocolate is poison to dogs.”
Anger twisted through her. She ached to hit him with the block. It was heavy enough to do him serious injury. She could hide the evidence afterward by eating it. “You ... you dog murderer.”
Jerome threw his hands up in mock defense. “Chocolate? Poison? Wherever did you get such an idea? I brought it as a treat for the pooch.”
But Maddy saw his smile did nothing to warm the iciness of his eyes.
“Don’t act innocent with me, Jerome.You might have fooled me at first but I know you’re trying to get Brutus out of the way. I won’t let you hurt him.”
All pretense of friendliness fled from Jerome. He took an intimidating step closer. Maddy held her ground. He sneered. “And how would a little thing like you stop me?”
Maddy shivered at the ominous intent in those too-blue eyes. But she squared her shoulders. “I have my ways.”
“Huh. Like I’m frightened.” He scowled. “You won’t get that money, you greedy little gold digger.You or the mongrel.”
Her face flushed at the insults to both herself and Brutus. But she didn’t falter. “Walter left his fortune to Brutus. That’s what he wanted.”
“By rights that money should be mine.”
Jerome’s face was so contorted Maddy wondered why she had ever thought him handsome. “My great-grandfather sold his share of the Stoddard family business to his brother, Walter’s father. He was cheated; the business was a money machine, he never got his rights—”
Maddy was shaking at the venom in his voice but she willed herself to speak evenly. “That was a long time ago, Jerome. And nothing to do with me. Or Brutus.”
Serena wasn’t as controlled. “Get out of my house,” she shrieked at Jerome.
“Or I’ll call the police,” added Maddy.
Jerome slung his satchel over his shoulder. “I’ll be back to get that dog—when you least expect it,” he threatened as he stomped out of the room.
Maddy and Serena followed him up the hallway and slammed the door after him. Maddy leaned back against the wall, shaking, staring at Serena, unable to speak.
For the first time she felt it wasn’t just Brutus who was in danger.
She might be, too.
As Tom approached Serena’s house, he was astounded to see that slimeball Stoddard coming down the steps, taking them two at a time. Halfway down the steps, the Englishman paused. Then deliberately turned back to make an ugly, obscene gesture at the closed door.
It was so sudden, so vicious that Tom stopped in his tracks. The vulgarity of the gesture, the fury behind it, made him feel ill. Because he was sure it had been aimed at Maddy.
He glanced up at Serena’s house. Lights shone in the downstairs windows. One or both of the girls was at home. Stoddard obviously hadn’t got the reception he had hoped for.
Jerome continued down the steps and Tom quickened his pace so he arrived at the start of the sidewalk at the same time the other man did.
He blocked Stoddard’s way. “Interesting to see that sign language is the same on both sides of the Atlantic,” he said.
Stoddard’s expression told Tom that the Englishman realized he had been observed. Malice flickered in his eyes but was quickly replaced with his usual urbane mask. “I can’t imagine what you mean,” he said in the unctuous tones that had grated on Tom from the get-go.
Tom kept his anger on a tight rein. “What the hell are you doing here, Stoddard?” he demanded.
“Visiting your hot little girlfriend,” the other man answered without missing a beat. “And her even hotter gal pal.”
Tom gritted his teeth against the innuendo that laced Stoddard’s voice. “You stay away from them.” He took a step closer. Let the other man know he had both height and muscle advantage over him.
Stoddard acted as though he didn’t notice, even though his shoulders braced defensively. “You’ve got dibs on both girls, have you?” His tone was deliberately lascivious. “I knew you’d scored with the redhead but her gorgeous friend with the big tits as well? I underestimated you. I’d like a piece of that one myself.” His amiable smile seemed to magnify the offensiveness of his words.
Contempt for Stoddard knotted Tom’s gut. How dare he talk about Maddy and her friend like that?
The Englishman was trying to provoke him. He knew that. The temptation to swipe that supercilious look off his face was overwhelming. But he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides.
The worst thing he could do was lose his lawyer cool.
“My involvement with Madeleine Cartwright is purely in connection with Walter Stoddard’s estate.” He kept his voice even, measured.
“Indeed? That’s not what my cameraman friend told me.”
Despite his resolve,Tom saw red.
His cameraman friend.
From the day of the funeral, Tom had been suspicious of Stoddard’s connection with the tabloids. The article that had so upset Maddy. The “in-depth” revelations about Tom himself that had done nothing but rake over the story of his parents’ ugly divorce. All traced back to Stoddard.
And then there was the poisoned T-bone.
Desire for revenge twisted through him.
The stretch of street was quiet. People were either having dinner at home or eating out at one of the Mission District’s many restaurants. There would be no witnesses if he decided to teach this guy a lesson.
But that would make him as bad as Stoddard.
“Madeleine Cartwright is none of your business,” said Tom.
Stoddard’s mask slipped. His eyes glittered and his mouth thinned with malevolence. Instinctively, Tom recoiled. Although he dealt mainly with corporate law, he’d come across enough loonies in his work to know when one was standing in front of him. Jerome was more dangerous than he’d thought.
“Oh, but that little slut and the mangy cur are very much my business. They’ve stolen millions that should be mine. I won’t let them get away with it.”