“Oh, all right. If you insist,” she said modestly, then opened the drawer of the end table nearest her and pulled out her manuscript. “I just happen to have a copy at hand.”
I smiled. “She’s too much. Isn’t she?”
“The best,” Gabriel agreed.
Grace opened the manuscript to a page in the middle. “This scene happens after Greta and Paul have filed their papers of incorporation. They’ve gone back to the office and Paul opens a bottle of champagne.”
I’d read that part already and knew how it ended, so I sat back in my chair and prepared to watch the reactions of some of the guests.
Grace cleared her throat and struck a dramatic pose. Then she began to read. “‘I never thought this day would come, Greta.’ Paul handed her a delicate flute filled with bubbly golden liquid and said, ‘Let’s toast to the success of our new partnership.’”
Grace looked up at us and waved her hand in a circle to indicate she was skipping some words. “So they drink. And they drink some more. And they laugh and giggle and one thing leads to another, if you know what I mean. And I’ll pick it up right here.”
She flipped a few pages, then continued reading. “‘It’s always been you, Greta. There’s no one else. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ll want you until the day I die.’ Greta stared at him in shock. She didn’t dare give in to the happiness his words filled her with. ‘Oh, Paul, I…we…it would be such a mistake. A glorious mistake, but still a mistake you would regret. Maybe not tonight, but someday. And if I ever had to see the look in your eyes that told me you had stopped loving me, I would die.’ ‘I could never regret wanting you, Greta. I could never
stop loving you.’ He kissed her then, and nothing in her life had ever felt so wonderful, so perfect, so
right
, before!”
Grace grinned at her guests, then took a sip of her own champagne. “This is getting good.”
Several of us laughed as Grace turned the page and continued reading. “Then he swept her up in his arms. ‘I want you, Greta. Tonight I’ll have you.’ He carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the—”
Without warning, a baseball flew across the room and smacked Grace in the side of the head.
Vinnie screamed.
Grace grunted, then slumped over the arm of the couch.
Someone gasped. It might have been me.
Ruth screeched, “No! Grace!”
Everyone dropped to the floor or scrambled away out of danger. Sybil had been sitting in the chair nearest Grace, but she was on her feet now, staring in horror at the unconscious woman.
“Damn you, Grace. Wake up!” Ruth sobbed as she tightened her grip on the woman who lay unconscious in her arms. Wild-eyed, Ruth looked from Suzie to the stunned faces of the guests. “Who did that? Who threw that ball?”
“Auntie Grace,” Kiki cried. She ran toward Grace but Gabriel caught her around the waist.
“No,” he said, his voice deadly serious. “Stay back. You could be hurt.”
My gaze darted around the room as I tried frantically to spot the person who had thrown the ball. I had only seconds to figure out who was missing from the group before they could strike again. But with everyone either crouched on the floor or scurrying around the room, it was hard to nail everybody down.
The weapon was a baseball or something that looked like it. It had been thrown from the doorway that was now half closed, so I turned and headed that way.
Gabriel had come to the same conclusion. We reached the door at the same time. I grabbed the doorknob, but jumped back when I heard a woman out in the hall screaming. “Let me go!”
“Not bloody likely,” a man said gruffly.
I nearly fainted. I knew that gruff voice.
Gabriel and I exchanged glances. We heard a scuffle; then the door was flung open. Derek Stone stood in the hall, wrestling with a squirming, angry Merrilee in his arms.
Derek?
Gabriel grabbed me from behind as I started to slide, then pulled me close and whispered, “You’re not really going to faint, are you?”
“Don’t be silly,” I insisted, though, okay, I was a little short of breath and for a second or two there, it had been a little iffy. And who could have blamed me? “I…I tripped on something.”
“Nice try.”
“Let me go.” He steadied me and I took a quick step away from him. So maybe seeing Derek had been a shock. And maybe I’d felt a little light-headed, but I was fine now. Except for the fact that everything inside me was jumping up and down in exhilaration at the thrill of seeing him again. Naturally I was much too cool and controlled to let him know that. I sucked in a gulp of air, let it out, and prayed for composure. “Hello, Derek. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hello, darling.” His voice was tight because he was still struggling to contain Merrilee, who twisted and turned and whined and yelped, trying to escape his iron grasp.
Despite everything I’d imagined about him, despite my own emotional pendulum swings and psychotic-girlfriend
moments over the past week, I couldn’t do anything but soak in the loveliness of Derek. It was wonderful to see him again. He looked better than ever, if that was possible. Even though, on closer examination, I noticed that the man was kind of a mess. He needed a shave. His hair was spiky and unruly, as though he hadn’t combed it in a while. He looked tired, too, and his shirt wasn’t tucked in. Dear God, it wasn’t even ironed.
He was the sweetest sight I’d ever seen.
Had he been in so much of a hurry to find me that he hadn’t bothered to stop and freshen up, at least comb his hair and shave? Right at that moment, if I’d had the time to burst into tears I would have. Unfortunately, I was a little busy. And so was he. Crying would have to wait until the strange mystery of Merrilee was concluded.
“Bring her in here, would you?” I said to Derek, and shoved the door open all the way. “We need to have a little talk with her.”
“Of course, darling,” Derek said, and I could hear that familiar sardonic British lilt in his voice.
I ignored the warm shivers that tone brought to my skin and instead admired the way he easily lifted Merrilee off her feet and carried her into the room.
Yes, Derek was simply gorgeous and strong, a walking, talking advertisement for all that was Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. And I loved him. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have a few words with him later about a certain Miss Thomasina Suck-wit and her unauthorized use of his cell phone. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t called me. Not once.
And while he was answering those questions, maybe he could also tell me what in the world he was doing here.
Later.
Grace was just lifting her head. Ruth still had a grip on her, but now she helped her rise and sit on the couch. Grace’s eyes were crossed and foggy as she rubbed her temple. “What happened?”
“Merrilee tried to kill you!” Sybil shouted.
“I did not!” Merrilee snapped.
“Everyone saw you, Merrilee,” Ruth said quietly, though the pain in her voice rang out.
“Why did you do it, Merrilee?” I asked. “Why did you throw a baseball at Grace?”
“I didn’t!”
“You did, and you almost killed her,” Ruth pointed out, her own voice quavering. “Was that your intention? To kill this woman who gave you a home and a job and all the love in her heart?”
Merrilee slumped in Derek’s grasp, that momentary show of spunk suddenly and completely gone. She swallowed. Stark fear showed on her face. “No.”
“I’m afraid you can’t deny it,” Derek said. “I was right behind you in the hall. I saw you throw the ball.”
Maybe I was still in shock from hearing Derek’s voice. But I just couldn’t work it out in my head why Grace’s sweet, loyal housekeeper had tried to hurt her.
“It’s just a bump on the head,” Grace said, her voice shaky. “Let me stand up. It’s my party and I…urrghh.”
She collapsed onto the couch cushion and Ruth wrapped both arms around her waist. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Grace laid her head on Ruth’s shoulder. “But Merrilee needs me.”
“She needs you? Grace, she just threw a baseball at your head!” Ruth was furious and glared at Merrilee. “What were you thinking? Explain yourself.”
Merrilee started to cry. “I didn’t mean to hit Grace. I’m so stupid. It’s all my fault if she dies.”
Derek frowned at me and I almost smiled. Naturally, he had quickly picked up on the incongruity of the situation. Merrilee didn’t sound like a killer. She sounded like a scared young girl.
I said, “What do you mean, Merrilee?”
She wrung her hands in misery. “I know I’m as sharp
as a marble, but I thought I could at least throw a ball! I can’t even do
that
right. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you, Merrilee,” Nathan argued, his tone dutiful. He shoved Peter out of the way and stormed across the room, where he glared at Derek until he surrendered Merrilee willingly and took a few steps back.
Nathan moved in and grabbed her in a tight hug. “You can throw a ball straight, honey. You just need practice.”
Derek’s frown grew deeper as more confusion set in. He wasn’t the only one. I’d lost the thread of this conversation as soon as Nathan had sprung into action.
“Nathan,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
“No harm was done,” Nathan insisted, then whipped around to address everyone in the room. “Look, Grace is fine. A little woozy, but fine. So stop picking on Merrilee, all of you.”
“Picking on her!” Sybil shouted in astonishment. “She tried to kill Grace!”
But Nathan ignored her as he stared into Merrilee’s eyes. “If you want to learn to throw straight, I’ll teach you how. I’ll do anything for you. I love you and I want to marry you.”
Merrilee sputtered, “B-but—”
He put one finger over her lips, shushing her. “Please just say yes and make me the happiest man in the world.”
Wow. I hadn’t seen that coming. But looking at Nathan and seeing the flush of happiness on Merrilee’s cheeks, I could only wonder how I’d missed it. Some detective I was.
“You can’t marry her!” Sybil yelled, and stomped her foot on the thick carpet. “She should be dragged off to jail for attempted murder. In fact, she probably killed Bella. She’s dangerous. Am I the only one who can see that?”
If anyone else had said that, I might’ve gone along
with them. Not for long, of course, since Merrilee clearly wasn’t a murderer. But this was Sybil talking. Why was she so up in arms? She didn’t give a rat’s ass about Grace. She probably would’ve popped open more champagne to celebrate if Grace had been hurt any worse than she was. Actually, that was something Madge would do. Sybil would simply sit and read a magazine.
Or would she? I spent an extra moment or two watching the woman and her body language. And wondering.
Then I gazed over at Merrilee. I knew she had some reasoning difficulties, so I asked the question all over again. “Merrilee, can you tell us why you threw the ball at Grace?”
“I didn’t,” she said, repeating herself.
“But…”
Merrilee held up one shaky finger and pointed it at Madge. “I threw it at her.”
Madge gasped.
“Whoa,” Gabriel muttered.
“Me? I didn’t do anything!”
Harrison stepped forward. “Madge, what did you do?”
“Shut up, Harry!” Her facial muscles were so taut, I was worried that they’d spring loose like the strings on a violin. “I didn’t do a damn thing. She’s insane.”
Merrilee shook her head back and forth. “Not her.
Her
.”
Madge stepped aside, then turned and stared at Sybil. “You.”
“Right,” Merrilee said, still pointing. “Her.”
Sybil’s face turned white. “What do you mean, me? You were going to kill me? How dare you!”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Merrilee gulped, nervous now, but not about to stop talking until she’d told us all what had happened. “I just wanted to hit you with the ball.”
Nathan’s arm came around Merrilee’s shoulder and
she seemed to stand taller, straighter. She was staring at Sybil and still pointing. “I saw you. I know what you were doing.”
Sybil glanced around and laughed weakly. “What in the world is she blathering about? Can somebody please call the police? She should be in jail, or, better yet, in an insane asylum.”
I took another step forward. “Should she, Sybil? Really? What did she see you doing that caused her to throw a baseball at you?”
“So you’re interrogating me now?” She laughed harshly as she straightened her jacket. “What a joke. I’m leaving.”
“But, Sybil,” Peter said, “the police won’t—”
“Oh, screw the police. I’m not going to sit around wait for permission from them.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said. “Tell me, what were you doing in my room last night?”
She flinched, but quickly covered it with a shake of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
But I knew it was her. That gasp I’d heard when Leroy jumped down from the ceiling panel was Sybil’s, reacting in shock and horror to Leroy pouncing on her. She hated cats.
“What were you doing there, Sybil? Were you going to poison me, too?”
“Shut up,” she muttered.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
But Merrilee wasn’t paying attention to the confrontation between me and Sybil. She just kept pointing at the woman. “She has a gun. She has a gun and she was going to shoot my mother.”
Her
mother
?
Grace?
Now my mind was reeling from one thought to the next like a drunk trying to wind his way home down Lombard Street.
My gaze darted back to Sybil, who shook her head rapidly and raised her hands in the air. “I don’t have a gun. She’s insane, I tell you!”
I turned again to Merrilee. “Where did you see a gun, Merrilee?”
Merrilee hesitated, so Grace reached out and clutched her hand in support. “Go on, Merri. Tell us what you saw.”
“She…she has it in her purse. I saw her take it out and hide it in her lap. But then she started to point it at my mom, so I ran next door to the game room and found something to throw at her. To stop her. I found the baseball from the pitch-ball game and I threw it.”
“That was very resourceful of you,” I said, casting a long look at Derek to see if he was keeping up. Had he seen Merrilee running back and forth from room to room? I knew he’d witnessed her throwing the ball, but could he corroborate her entire story?