Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) (14 page)

Anne clenched her jaw. With dignity, she replied, “I don’t know what gutter Peter found you in, but he would have done himself and everyone he knows a favor by leaving you in it.”

“Oh, the lady has teeth, does she?” Jillian smiled. “Nice try, but if you think an insult from you will affect me, you’re not very smart.”

“I expect you’d only understand four-letter words.”

“Yeah, four-letter words like cold, hard cash.”

“Well, you’re certainly cold and hard, and it’s obvious you like cash.”

“Mmm.” Jillian’s brows arched gently above her twinkling eyes. “It’s so nice we understand each other.”

“I told you yesterday morning I don’t have my own money. Everything is joint. He’d know.”

“Are you telling me you can’t make up a good lie? Now why do I find that hard to believe?”

“I could tell Peter.”

“Go ahead. See which of us he believes. And then, of course, you never know what Dougie might do if Peter did become annoyed with me. Dougie is such a gentleman. Just the kind to act as Sir Galahad to a lady in distress. And I would be in such distress.”

“You—you—!”

“Anne, dear, why can’t you just accept that I always win? Make it easy on yourself and give me what I want.”

Anne’s voice was brittle. “And exactly what do you want?”

Jillian tilted her head to one side in a puzzled way.

Anne said the words slowly, clearly, as if speaking to a child. “How much money am I going to have to give you before you take your claws out of my husband?”

Jillian shrugged. “Oh, I should think twenty-five thousand would be adequate.”

Anne gasped. “I can’t possibly get you that much! Certainly not without Douglass’s finding out. I can’t!”

Jillian was examining her nails. “Don’t you think he’s worth that much?” she asked carelessly.

While Anne sought for words, Jillian stood up and walked away. A slender gold bracelet above the tanned ankle seemed to wink and laugh in the sunlight, warning Anne how foolish she was to think she could stand up to the younger woman.

Anne set her magazine down and walked, head held high, up to her room where she closed the drapes, gulped down several tranquilizers, and threw herself, sobbing, onto the bed.

FIVE

Lunch was served on the patio and consisted of plates of fresh vegetables, fruit, dainty sandwiches, and several salads.

Ellen watched as Nick gravitated once more to Lorry. Kendall was there, too, but it seemed to Ellen that Nick was giving Kendall no chance to be alone with the girl. Annoying to see her plans go awry. Perhaps she should have insisted that Kendall bring Nick another time instead.

But perhaps there was still hope. Lorry would be in the city all summer. And although she was attractive, she really wasn’t Nick’s type at all. Perhaps later on.

George sat down beside his wife. “Lost in your thoughts, or are you too hot to eat?”

Ellen smiled. “I’m never too hot to eat Mrs. Winston’s food. I think we ought to give her a raise.”

“Just don’t let her get it into her head that she’s too good to be working for ordinary people like us.”

“As if she would,” Ellen replied cheerfully. Then the two of them sat back to enjoy their lunch, comfortable together even in silence.

Across the patio, Jillian’s pretty mouth set into a hard line. Unaware, she thrust her jaw forward. Her eyes were on Nick, who was smiling at something Lorry had said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jillian saw Peter coming toward her. She cried out, “Petey, darling, what’s taken you so long? Do sit here beside me, love. I’ve hardly seen you all morning.”

Peter laughed and set his plate on the table. Then he leaned over and kissed her. “My dear, I didn’t know you cared.” His eyes were laughing. But when she responded by reaching up and kissing him passionately, an observer would have noticed a glimmer of surprise on his face.

“You have to realize there are as many areas of law as there are medicine,” Nick was telling Lorry. “Contracts, wills, civil suits, copyrights, any number of business areas from mergers to lawsuits, not to mention defending criminals of all sorts and a ton of other things that most people don’t realize.”

“Which area interests you the most?”

“There’s good money in what Brodie does. Business law.”

“And is money the priority?”

He shrugged. “I’d just as soon have it as not,” he replied after a moment. “What about you? You’ve been going to college, haven’t you? What are you going to do?”

“I went to a Bible college where I majored in psychology. I love teenagers, so I’m hoping to find a job working with young people. If I don’t get one by the fall, I’m thinking of going to another country for a year. There are lots of opportunities for people who can teach English as a second language. And I could learn a lot that way. Or I may go back to get my master’s degree. But right now, I’m volunteering with an organization that works with homeless youth in downtown Toronto. So I’ll be here for the summer.”

Nick’s expression was one of bewilderment. “Volunteering?”

“Yes.”

“So you aren’t getting paid?”

“Right.”

“Would you get paid if you go to another country to teach English?”

“A lot depends on which country you go to. I’d likely look for one that needs teachers and doesn’t pay much.”

“So money isn’t your priority?”

She smiled as she shook her head.

“What does your dad do? He bankrolling you?”

“Not really. He’s pastor of a small church in a town near Edmonton, Alberta.”

“And your mother?”

“She looks after her home and family, directs the choir, plays the organ, teaches children, and leads a Bible study.”

“None of which pays, right?”

“Right.”

“Sounds like one big happy traditional family—right out of the fifties.”

Her eyes twinkled merrily into his. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“But you talk like a twenty-first century woman. So why would you choose a job that barely pays and gets you nowhere?”

“Why not if I think it’s what I should do?”

“Should?”

“I think it’s what God wants me to do.”

“What has God got to do with it?”

“God is a very important part of my life.”

“You believe there really is a God?”

“Yes, I do.”

“But even if there is, you still have to live. You know. Rent. Food. Clothes. Little things like that.”

“Is money a priority with you?”

“I like having it.”

“Is that why you ski? For the money?”

“You know it isn’t. But I have an opportunity to go on the freestyle circuit this year, and there’s a chance I could make some money there.”

“I guess the best thing is a job where you enjoy what you’re doing and make money, too, huh?”

“Of course. But I don’t see you ever making much working with kids. Unless you become a teacher or a psychologist or something.”

“Hmm. Maybe someday. Right now, I just want to use what I’ve already learned to help someone. I guess helping people is more rewarding to me than making money.”

“And you no doubt expect the guy to make the money.”

“The guy?”

“Boyfriend, husband, you know. You do what you enjoy and let him sweat to pay the bills.”

“You sound bitter.”

“Going to start analyzing me?”

“No, of course not.” She finished her lemonade.

Nick stared off into space for a minute. Finally, he turned to Lorry and smiled. “You know, this isn’t the normal kind of discussion I have with a pretty girl.”

Lorry returned the smile. “Why don’t you tell me some more about freestyle skiing then? What kind of things do you do?”

He proceeded to describe his last competition, but although his conversation was as easy as ever, there was a grim look in his eyes.

Kendall, talking to him an hour later, did notice. They were upstairs in the room they were sharing. Kendall was looking at a car magazine and Nick was stretched out on his bed. “How are you enjoying the weekend?” Kendall asked.

“Okay.”

“You don’t sound very positive.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’ve been with Lorry a fair bit.”

“I thought you wanted me to keep her busy so your mother wouldn’t get ideas.”

“Yeah, I do. She’s good-looking, huh?”

“Not bad.”

“Well, not in Jillian’s class, maybe, but she’s definitely right up there.”

“I guess.”

Kendall studied him silently. “Something on your mind?” he asked at last.

“Nothing important. Say, about the job, the answer is no. Final.”

Kendall threw his magazine on the floor. “You know you’re out of your mind?”

“Forget it. It’s a dead subject.”

“You won’t even give it a try?”

“No.”

“Something wrong with the people?” Kendall’s voice was distant, even defiant.

“No, of course not. I like your dad, and the other two are okay, I guess. Let’s just say that there’s something wrong with me and leave it at that.”

“There is. You’re crazy.”

“Okay.” Nick forced a smile. “But can we still be friends?”

Kendall hesitated before answering. “Yes, of course. But—well, I thought I was giving you a terrific opportunity.”

“And I’ve shoved it back in your face? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. There are dozens of guys out there who would jump to get the chance.”

Nick sat up. “Hey, come on, Kendall. Don’t get upset.”

“Why shouldn’t I be upset? I’m watching my best friend destroy his future. It’s as if only half your brain is working.”

There was silence for a minute. “I guess I’ve got something on my mind.”

“It’s not Jillian, is it? I’ve seen her looking at you.”

“No, it’s not Jillian.”

“Lorry?”

“Well, sort of.”

“She isn’t your type.”

“She’s okay.”

“That’s what I said.”

Nick laughed. “Thanks a lot!”

“You know what I mean. She’s my second cousin or something, remember. I know a little about her. Her dad’s a minister for some church in a small town near Edmonton. She may look pretty good, but I’ll bet she’s about as exciting as a door knob.”

“Not that bad, surely.”

But Kendall was unable to laugh. “Oh, forget her. I just—”

“What do you think of Jillian’s sister?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. You’re just trying to change the subject.” Kendall got up and walked out of the room, closing the door a fraction more heavily than necessary.

Nick lay back on the bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

Jillian sat at her vanity brushing her golden hair. From long practice, she worked rhythmically, automatically counting the strokes while humming to herself. At one hundred, she stopped brushing and sat gazing in the mirror for a moment.

Satisfied, she stood and tied an amber-colored scarf around her hair. Again, she looked in the mirror, craning her neck to see the back of the checked sundress she wore. The one she had picked up at that strange little boutique in Paris.

She was at the door, her hand on the knob, when a sharp rap made her step back. She bit her lower lip, then opened the door.

Hildy was standing in the hallway.

“Well, won’t you come in?” Jillian said, a confident smile curving her lips. “Peter’s somewhere downstairs, so let’s have a cozy chat.”

Hildy stepped inside and waited until the door was shut. Then, hands on hips, face rigid, she said in a low, even voice, “All right. Just what is this all about?”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to know just what you think you’re up to. Stephen is mine. I have custody and you aren’t going to get even one of your dirty little fingers on him.”