Midas Murders [Book 3 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] (6 page)

Lars shrugged. “Until I spotted the cab, last thing I remember is sitting down to breakfast."

Silently I applauded his reticence. He had remembered a few facts. To the person or persons responsible for his disappearance, those few facts might force them to act again.

Bonnie took her father's hand. “Daddy, you can tell us."

"Honey, if I could remember I would."

My gaze focused on the men. Was that relief I saw in their eyes?

"Not even a single detail?” Damon asked. “We need to learn who did this and why."

"The doctor said I might never remember."

"We'll have to keep a close eye on you,” Bonnie said. “Move to my house. There's room."

Lars freed his hand. “Kate's here. She'll keep watch."

"Will you and Aunt Katherine be at the party?” Bonnie asked. “If you're too exhausted from your ordeal, we can make excuses."

"We'll be there,” Lars said.

Bonnie leaned toward me. “You'll see how elegant parties are here. There'll be more than seventy-five guests."

My smile matched hers. “Though I prefer more intimate gatherings, I'm sure this won't be much different from the hospital's spring gala."

"Do you have a nice dress?” The tone of her voice matched the sweetness of her perfume. “I'll be glad to take time from the preparations to help you find a nice one in your price range."

"I have a perfectly suitable dress."

Lars shook his head. “Honey, Kate's not hurting for money. If she needs to go dress shopping, I'll take her."

"Don't make offers you might regret.” I gathered the mugs and strode to the kitchen.

Carl appeared in the doorway. “Let me apologize for my wife's rudeness. She's afraid some gold-digger will take advantage of her father."

"No apology needed. I've known Bonnie all her life. Contrary to her beliefs, I've no designs on Lars’ money. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm financially secure."

He laughed. “No one can have enough money."

"Depends on your needs. Mine are fairly simple."

He moved closer. “You wouldn't gain much around here. Old Lars pinches pennies. Sure wish he'd retire and leave the show to us."

"Isn't that what he plans?"

"Not if my wife has her way. She'll do just about anything to keep her daddy here."

"Carl, where are you?” Bonnie called.

"In the kitchen."

"Don't monopolize Aunt Katherine."

I brushed past him and reached the living room. “You don't have to worry. He's quite safe with me."

Bonnie laughed. “How droll. Carl, let's go home. Damon, call those people in California and find why they haven't completed their proposed budget. Daddy, take care.” She slipped on her mink and blew a kiss.

Damon and Lars headed to his study. I returned to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Hot roast beef, potato pancakes, a salad and cake for dessert were on the menu.

The odd dynamics of the Bonnie, Carl, Damon trio puzzled me. Were they working together or did each of them have a separate agenda? No matter. I sensed something brewing between them that I feared would escalate. Bonnie seemed to be the focus or maybe the instigator. Lars needed to recognize the things I saw, but his doting love for his daughter blinded his sight.

When lunch was ready, I walked toward the study. Loud voices halted me just as I entered the hall.

"When are you going to make the announcement?” Damon demanded.

"After Kate leaves."

"Then I'll wait, but not happily.” He paused and then began to speak again. “You need to do something about Carl ASAP. He's my friend, but he has a real problem. He could be altering the books. Why don't you call in an outside accountant?"

"Do you have proof?"

"I'm no accountant. Neither are you. Lord, he could steal you blind to pay his gambling debts."

"Bonnie wouldn't tolerate my harassing him."

"Don't be so sure of that. She's growing tired of his weekends in Vegas."

"She hasn't said a word."

"She wouldn't,” Damon said. “She's your daughter and has your kind of pride. She knows how you feel about the marriage."

I wished Lars would forget about entertaining me and attend to his affairs. Perhaps I'd end my stay early. I'm sure I could find a reason, but would Lars’ danger increase if I left?

"Lars, lunch is ready,” I called. “Will Mr. Webster be staying?"

The younger man stepped into the hall. “If I'm invited. Lars has raved about your cooking. And please call me Damon."

"We're having left-overs. I'll set another place.” I returned to the kitchen.

Moments later Lars arrived. He took the plates and silverware. “Thanks for the welcome interruption. We were getting nowhere.” He kissed my cheek.

"Glad to be of service.” I carried the food to the dining room. Questions about the things Damon had said about Carl troubled me. I refrained from voicing them, at least until Lars and I were alone.

Something about the attitude of Lars’ assistant troubled me. The young man had a ready smile and a charming manner, but my latest experience with a charmer had made me wary. While Damon's attempt to portray his friend as a thief had been smoothly done, I wondered about his motives. For some reason I couldn't define, I didn't trust Mr. Webster. I wished Lars didn't either.

Lunch ended with slices of chocolate cake. Lars tasted and grinned. “As wonderful as ever."

"Have you ever considered opening a restaurant?” Damon asked.

"I've had two careers. That's enough."

Lars chuckled. “That's two she'll admit. Maybe the third's just a hobby."

Damon's glance showed a curiosity I was reluctant to answer. “He's teasing."

"Am I?” Lars asked.

"Finish your lunch,” I said.

When Damon carried his dishes to the kitchen, he thanked me again. “Better head for the office and make that California call. Bonnie may be focused on party plans, but she won't forget what she told me to do. If I don't have an answer, I'll hear about it. See you tomorrow evening."

After he left, most of the uneasiness slid from my shoulders. Lars loaded the dishwasher and I stored the few leftovers and put the rest of the cake in the freezer.

He pulled me into an embrace. For an instant I rested my head against his shoulder. His entire body vibrated with tension.

"What is it? Have you remembered more?"

"No. Seems you're the only one I can trust. Why does it seem like everyone has their own agenda, even my children?"

"That's a question I can't answer. Why don't we forget the sightseeing and discover what's hidden beneath all the rocks."

He brushed my cheek with his lips. “Not that long ago, curiosity nearly got you killed."

"You need to discover what's going on."

"Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll learn."

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Lars and I spent the next morning lounging in front of the fireplace while I gave him the latest news from our various friends including the ones who had moved to sunny climes. He especially enjoyed hearing stories about my family and neighbors. He chuckled over the things I told him about Sarah's brood. Then he asked about the group we met for bridge.

"There are still games, but I haven't had a decent partner since you were last home,” I said. “Do any of your friends here play?"

He shrugged. “Never asked. They're not that close. We talk business, meet for lunch or dinner, attend concerts, the opera in the summer and art shows.” He clasped my hand. “I'm so glad you're here."

"The feeling's mutual.” I shuddered to think of how long he might have been missing if I hadn't arrived. Though his son and daughter lived close at hand, they might not have worried for several days unless there'd been a ransom note. “What if I hadn't come? What if you hadn't escaped?"

"Why are you so worried about what never happened?” He slid his arm around my shoulders. “Let's shelve my vanishing act. I'm prepared to make the supreme sacrifice and take you shopping for a dress to suit my picky daughter. She just wants you to make a good impression on people here."

Doubtful, but criticizing his favorite child would drive a wedge into our friendship. “She hasn't changed."

Sadness filled his eyes. “And neither have I. I still let her have her way too often. It's a habit and hard to break."

"I know."

"Back to the dress question."

"I have a perfectly wonderful one that I wore to the hospital gala last spring."

He raised an eyebrow. “You went to the gala?"

"Yes, Lars. With one of the doctors. He's a widower and I'm not a recluse."

"You could have asked me."

His wistful expression made me chuckle. “Andrew made the arrangements."

He smiled. “Aha. Bonnie does the same thing for me, and never the same woman twice."

Of course, I thought. “Would you like to see the dress and give it your seal?"

"Yes."

In the guest room I took the aqua silk dress from the closet. The skirt ends in a series of points that are embroidered with silver swirls. “If this doesn't suit the occasion, I'll stay home."

"It's perfect. When you see what I have for you, you'll know why. Be right back."

When he returned, he handed me a case containing a magnificent silver and turquoise necklace and earrings. The stones nearly matched the color of my dress. From a band of highly polished metal, five triangles hung. Each was tipped with a round piece of turquoise. The earrings were single triangles.

"How beautiful."

"And just right for you. The moment I saw the set, I knew they were for you. Bonnie wanted them and for once, I didn't give in."

"Won't she be upset if I wear them to her party?"

He leaned against the doorframe. “Probably, but she'll save her tantrums for later.” He grinned. “Time for her to stop grasping and for me to cease doting. She has no reason to envy you."

He was right and wrong. In some subtle way our relationship hovered on the edge of change. Was Bonnie aware? Since my arrival both times I'd been in her company, her animosity had pulsed like a monster lurking for an attack.

"Thank you.” I put the case on the dresser and hung the dress in the closet.

Lars held out his hand. “Now that the dress question is settled, would you like to take a drive?"

"Where?"

"Just around. We'll stop somewhere for lunch."

"Sounds like fun."

Making our escape proved to be an exercise in logistics. Every time Lars tried to back onto the drive, another car, truck or van appeared: A florist times three, several vans belonging to the caterer, a truck from a place where tables and chairs are rented, plus a number of cars moved in a stream up the drive.

We looked at each other and laughed. Lars reached for his cell phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Bonnie to see when there'll be a break in traffic."

"I could stand in the middle of the drive and play traffic cop."

"Might be the only way.” He glanced toward the gate. “After this gray car, we're clear."

That evening we dined on the doggie bags we'd brought from lunch and then dressed for the party. In casual clothes Lars is a handsome man, but in a tuxedo he took my breath away. His cummerbund and tie were turquoise and a near match for my dress. The studs were chunks of the same semi-precious stones as my jewelry.

"Making a statement?” I asked.

"Staking my claim. You're a beautiful woman and there will be a number of unattached men in attendance."

"None to match you. Should I worry about unattached women?"

He chuckled. “We're quite a pair. Shall we walk or drive? We're early enough to get a close spot."

"And be blocked in so we have to walk home. It's not far.” I reached for the silver fox cape that had been my mother's.

As we strolled up the luminary-lined driveway, Lars told me what to expect inside the house. “It's a showplace and made for entertaining. The lower floor isn't family space. The house is a huge square with a center courtyard. On one side there's a formal living room and a dining room where doors open into the court. The...I suppose it could be called a ballroom is on the other side and is connected to a hall that opens into the court and leads to the chef's kitchen."

"Sounds wonderful.” And just the proper place to showcase his daughter.

"She's hired an orchestra for dancing."

The sand-colored adobe glittered in the moonlight. “Truly a house of gold."

"Fool's gold. She had something added to the stucco to create the effect. Bonnie has these pretensions, but she means no harm by them."

Was his assessment true? His daughter might not physically harm anyone, but from what I'd observed and heard from Don and Megan, she used words as weapons. I wanted to share these thoughts with Lars, but refrained. Why shred his beliefs? Bonnie was his pet and I'd soon be a guest in her house.

Lars rang the bell. A dark-haired man dressed as a hidalgo answered. He took my cape and Lars coat.

On one wall a picture of Bonnie hung. I glanced at the other wall where a multitude of mirrors in gilt frames reflected the portrait again and again. I choked back laughter.

At the end of the foyer, a graceful staircase led to the second floor. A grandfather's clock in white marble and gold works stood near the stairs. Soft lights and shadows were cast by the crystal chandelier.

Bonnie glided into the foyer. “Daddy, you look so handsome. It's good you came early."

Her dress was gold lame and white satin and molded to her figure. She wore a pearl and gold necklace. White and gold like everything I'd seen.

"I wanted Kate to have a chance to see the house before the guests arrived."

She turned to me. “Aunt Katherine, what a nice dress. Don't you just love the necklace and earrings? Take good care of them. They're only on loan, you know. I'd hate to see them broken."

"They're Kate's and perfect for her,” Lars said.

"But Daddy...” She thrust her lower lip into a pout.

"Bonnie.” A hard edge entered his voice.