Azure Secrets

by Patricia Rice

  She didn’t see Aaron with her dog anywhere. Had he already taken her to Cass’s?

  The music changed to a faster number. People clapped. More couples joined in the dancing in the small space left open near the band. And Cass and Samantha emerged from the crowd. She saw the resemblance between niece and great-aunt in their long, slender bones. Samantha’s expression was more open and friendly. Cass had more taciturn authority. Fee wouldn’t deny either of them.

  “It seems we cannot rely on law enforcement to catch these villains,” Cass said without preamble. “It is now up to us to put an end to the carnage.”

  Fee swallowed hard and spoke as bravely as she could. “Only gangs can stop gang warfare. I’m sorry if I’ve brought them up here. I’ll leave, and the trouble will go away.”

  “It’s not about normal street gangs, Fiona,” Sam said with a frown. “Gang warfare is territorial and Hillvale isn’t part of anyone’s territory. Walker has his men infiltrating Waterville’s criminal underground, trying to determine how the villains here are related. He hasn’t located a source for the key in Sukey’s collar, but we have to assume someone wants it very badly.”

  “Then dangle the damned thing from a flagpole and let them go after it,” Fiona said bitterly. “I can’t stay here as long as Sukey and I are targets.”

  “I like the flagpole idea,” Cass said with a faint smile, “Except for the part where rival criminals start shooting each other as they climb the pole. Innocents might be hurt.”

  Fiona managed a rueful grin. “Could we put the pole on a mountain and point signs at it?”

  “That might almost be the solution,” Sam said. “We need to work this out with the others tomorrow. For now, Aaron is taking Sukey to a friend of his in the city. That still leaves you in danger. We can provide protective crystals and a better walking stick, but they can’t stop bullets.”

  Fiona squirmed. She wanted to demand that Portelli and Roper be interrogated, that they should wait to see if Francois could tell them anything, but even she knew they had no evidence to bring them in for questioning. And the woman and her driver were long gone.

  “The bad guys are multiplying. It would be simpler if I disappeared,” Fee said, trying to hide her despair.

  “No. They obviously know your name. They’d find you anywhere. We’ll keep a protective circle around the shop tonight. Don’t go anywhere without us. Tomorrow, we’ll work it out.” Cass patted Fee’s bare shoulder. “Enjoy the dancing.”

  She strode back to the table in the corner where the other Lucys were gathering again.

  Fee stared at Sam in despair. “Enjoy the dancing?”

  “It’s not all about you,” Sam said cheerfully. “From the looks of it, the bad guys are after each other now. Here comes Uncle Monty. Make him smile again.”

  And she, too, walked away, back to the head table where the bride and groom appeared more than ready to cut their cake.

  Cut their cake! Weren’t they supposed to do that before the dancing? Had they waited on her?

  No, they’d waited on Monty. He strode through the restaurant, looking nearly as grim as his police chief, avoiding friendly calls and waves. “Dance as if we haven’t a care in the world,” he ordered, gripping her elbow and steering her toward the small dance floor.

  She had a lot of cares, but not a lot of brains for processing them when his strong arm swung her into the dancing, almost taking her off her feet.

  She wore low-heeled comfortable shoes to avoid breaking her ankles. Good thing, because she didn’t have a lot of dancing experience—and Monty obviously had. He swung her out and back, then caught her in his arms again to move across the floor.

  “Your shoes aren’t steel-toed by any chance?” she muttered.

  He grinned down at her. Even if the grin was a trifle forced, it had her heart fluttering.

  “You think a little thing like you could hurt even my smallest toe? Smile. We’re sending Teddy and Kurt off to Hawaii without a worry in their pretty heads.” He spun her under his arm.

  “And then what will we do? Tie up your lodge manager and torture the truth out of him?” Fee wiggled away, keeping a surreptitious eye on the other dancers so she could imitate their dance moves.

  Monty’s grin was a little more genuine. He reeled her back in and held her pressed along the length of him. “I like that idea just fine. You and me, babe, totally in charge of everything. I never liked Roper. Let’s make him suffer. And by the way, I really like that dress.”

  Twenty-one

  Saturday, afternoon

  Monty knew his unfocused brain couldn’t match his architect brother’s intellect, but he also knew his people power was better than most. So he applied what he knew best as soon as the song ended. Teddy and Kurt had held up the cake cutting while two of the best men were out playing hooky. It was time to get the train back on track.

  “Drum roll, please,” he yelled at the band, halting the dancing as soon as he saw Samantha and Walker return to the head table. “Cake,” he shouted into the resulting silence. “Let us eat cake!”

  “You never eat cake,” the delectable Lucy at his side complained.

  Ignoring Fee’s truth, he led her toward the main table. “I’m just the director, and the show needs to hit the road. I want you where everyone can keep an eye on you. Why don’t you pass the cake plates at the main table after Teddy cuts hers?”

  He didn’t let Fee give the answer her eyes were spitting at him. Little Miss Fey didn’t like attention. He knew that. But he wasn’t leaving her side, and he needed to be at the table. So she needed to be with him.

  He steered her behind the chairs, holding Fee’s waist so she couldn’t flee, as Teddy cut the cake.

  He half expected butterflies or something magical to fly from the cake, but the ceremony went off like every one he’d ever seen. Teddy’s expression of bliss as she tasted the seemingly plain white cake, however, set up a buzz of anticipation around the room.

  “Tell her to thank Dinah,” Fee whispered, forcing Monty to bend over so he could hear.

  His reward was a good view down her stunning dress, proving wire and padding didn’t fill out those lovely globes.

  “She slaved over those cakes all week, even with a sprained ankle,” she told him.

  “Got it.” He leaned over and whispered in Teddy’s ear.

  The bride grinned and lifted her champagne glass, leaning over the microphone. “Dinah, I declare you a cake enchantress! Tell the band what song you want, and let us celebrate your brilliance.”

  Teddy passed the cake cutter to Kurt to cut the rest of the slices.

  Fee broke from Monty’s grip to cut and plate the cakes with expertise so the bridal couple could have their dance. Once she’d fed everyone at the main table, Monty took her arm again. “Okay, now all we have to do is keep away from the happy pair so they can’t grill us, and we’re good.”

  Feeling as restless as a bridegroom, Monty steered Fee back to the dance floor. Without the concealing shawl, her slender shoulders and back were bare, daring him to touch. It was going to be a long night watching those perfect breasts bobbing. Even thinking about his mother in her hospital bed and Francois bleeding out on the pavement couldn’t distract him from the innocent female who should be cuddling dogs and babies instead of watching over her shoulder for gunmen.

  Life was so not fair.

  Kurt cut in. Monty whispered fiercely in Fee’s ear, “Not a word, got it?”

  She nodded and solemnly danced off in another man’s arms. Monty grabbed Dinah and dipped her until she giggled. He danced with Amber and Teddy’s bridesmaids, the flower girl, Brenda the nurse, and any other woman from Hillvale he could find.

  He dodged the society girls he’d grown up and gone to school—and to bed—with. Weddings always brought a predatory gleam to their eyes that made him feel as if he had a rope around his neck. Even knowing they wanted sex as much as he did, he threw off his tie just thinking about ropes.

 
He might be broken. He’d worry about it when he had nothing else to do.

  He tried not to let his eyes fall out of his head as his socially awkward Uncle Lance danced with Val, the Lucy’s death goddess. The pair worked the floor as if they’d been choreographed. When did that happen?

  He threw a look back to the Lucy table—where Xavier was actually sitting next to Cass, talking. His drug-addled lawyer was talking to the Queen of Lucys?

  His head was not only broken, but now he was seeing things.

  For reassurance, Monty found Fee merrily swinging her slim hips, raising her arms to the rock beat, and bobbing in that skimpy dress for the benefit of way too many oglers. He grabbed her back in his arms—solid and normal.

  She yanked on his collar. “I want some of the cake before it’s all gone.”

  So he sat her on his lap at the main table, and they wolfed down three different kinds of cake together. He was definitely broken, because he was dying and going to heaven. It even seemed normal to see Nurse Brenda and surly Orville leaving together.

  “What the hell did you put into this stuff?” he demanded, licking his fork. “Moonshine?”

  “Love and happiness, vanilla and cinnamon. Dinah’s bourbon cake might be a little liquored up,” she admitted.

  “Aphrodisiac,” he said solemnly. “Half the crowd will be running up to the lodge to hit the sack as soon as the bridal couple leaves. We’ll be lucky not to find them making out in the woods.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s the champagne. And the wedding. There’s something very arousing about weddings.” She climbed off his lap. “You can’t follow me to the ladies’ room.”

  “I can, and I will. Those aren’t gender specific toilets. Can it wait? Teddy and Kurt have their heads together. I think it’s almost time. Is there a limo pulling up?” He strained to see through the window at the other end of the restaurant while hanging on to Fiona’s hand. Holding her at his side made him happy. So few things did these days, he thought he ought to enjoy the temporary sensation.

  The band struck up a tune that had everyone on their feet even before they realized the bridal couple weren’t heading for the dance floor. Monty dragged Fee past the band. The others at the head table followed suit, forcing a clear path to the door.

  Clearly unaware of any trouble in paradise, Kurt and Teddy gleefully ran for the door and the waiting limo. The bride stopped to toss her bouquet at the Lucy table. Amber caught it and beamed like crazy.

  Monty sighed with relief once the couple were in the car and on their way. Now all he had to do was manage Hillvale and the resort, hunt dognappers, and find a shooter. Piece of cake—not one made with love and happiness.

  “Restroom,” the cake-maker on his arm reminded him, pulling away. “And you’re not going with me.”

  She stalked over to the Lucy table, hugging an excited Amber.

  Feeling like a moving target, Monty grabbed Walker’s arm and yanked him toward the wall, hoping to shield himself from the other guests. Rude of him, he knew, but even he had limits.

  “Have you heard from the sheriff about Snakebite Guy? Will they do an autopsy?” he demanded, trying to sort through all the loose threads blowing through his empty head.

  “Toxicology report takes time,” Walker said. “I need to find out who let out the dog, then question Portelli and Roper. That’s my job. Yours is to keep the crowd happy and under control—and Fee out of trouble. If you want to trust the Lucys to do that, be my guest.” He nodded at something over Monty’s shoulder.

  Monty swung around to see Fee strolling toward the back of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of laughing Lucys. Letting them protect Fee would be the simplest solution. But he didn’t trust Cass—she’d use Fee as bait if it suited her. The two strongest women—Sam and Mariah—had husbands and their own lives. Amber would topple if a ghost said boo, and the others were just too old to be fighting gunmen.

  And he damned well wasn’t leaving Fee to Harvey and Aaron’s dubious care. Besides, Aaron was on his way to the city with the dog. He wouldn’t be available to run to his shop at the first sign of trouble as he had the other night.

  Crap. Monty stalked after the women.

  As Fee emerged from potties more sumptuous than any home she’d ever lived in, Sam whispered, “He doesn’t own you.”

  Fee glanced through the curtains where the glowering mayor waited, arms crossed over his muscled chest. She knew it was ridiculous, but her heart beat a little faster. “He can help me find who wants Sukey.”

  “We’re having a Lucy meeting tomorrow,” Sam reminded her. “We’ll figure out what to do. Admittedly, unless ghosts are after your dog, we probably can’t answer your question.”

  “I don’t want to impose on anyone. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.” Fee liked Sam. She liked all the Lucys who didn’t mind when she said strange things. It was an eye-popping experience that would take some getting used to. Knowing they had her back gave her the courage to do what needed to be done—stick with the man who could help her get Sukey back. “Mayor Monty has too many other things to do to bother with me much.”

  Sam snorted her disbelief. “Mayor Monty has so many things to do that he picks and chooses what pleases him most—and you’re it for now. He’s a player, so beware.”

  The player had danced with the flower girl and Dinah instead of the silk-dress fashion models, she’d noticed.

  Still, Sam’s warning rang in Fee’s ears as she left the safety of the Lucys to confront the mayor. She didn’t do confrontation well, though, so she merely glanced up at his forbidding expression, swung on her low heels, and marched toward the kitchen.

  “Excellent choice,” he practically purred behind her.

  “Shouldn’t you be out there playing host to your brother’s guests?” she countered.

  Teddy’s city friends included a lot of high-end fashion types. Apparently, the Kennedys also had friends in high places, the kind of places that wore diamonds and Gucci and checked in at the spa every few years for adjustments. There couldn’t be that many naturally beautiful people in his world. Those people were his milieu.

  “Do you hate me that much?” he asked in sarcasm, catching her by surprise. “Have you ever seen a barracuda swarm?”

  “I didn’t even know barracuda swarmed.” Unable to make sense of this conversation, she dodged a waiter rushing in with a tray full of dirty dishes. Finally reaching the pantry door, she tested the knob. “I locked this. I know I locked it.”

  Monty looked at the keyhole. “Even I could pick this thing.”

  He turned the knob and it opened. Sukey’s bed was still there, as was the leash tied to the loop on the wall.

  “They just slashed her leash,” Fee said in disgust, holding up the cut end of the pretty new leash. “How stupid is that?”

  “I don’t think we’re dealing with a brain trust. So far, the guys they’ve sent aren’t exactly the kind acquainted with rural areas. And looks like they’re more familiar with knives than dogs.” He unfastened the leash from the wall and gathered up the rest of Sukey’s things. “Let’s ask a few questions, then run these back to your place.”

  “The leash isn’t any good any more,” Fee said sadly.

  “But Aaron might find something on it. Don’t touch it.” He wrapped the blanket around the leather.

  Fee watched with a little more hope. “I hope he’s better at this than I am. I just smell fish.”

  “Because you’re attuned to food. If you had to read smells for a living, it would be a different matter.” He stood outside the pantry door, studying the bustling kitchen.

  She hadn’t thought about that. She’d spent so much of her life just surviving, that she’d not had an opportunity to think about how others lived. Of course Aaron chose his antiques by the age of the images on them! That had to be fascinating. And probably as frustrating as her gift when layers of memories muddled everything.

  She sought out the head caterer in the kitchen
’s bustle. “Don’t get in the way. Let me talk,” she told Monty before she eased through the clutter of help washing up and putting away.

  “Did you see anyone walk out with my dog?” she asked the older woman efficiently sorting linens. Fee took a stack of Dinah’s dirty napkins and dropped them in a covered laundry basket brought in for the occasion.

  The caterer frowned and stacked dirty bakeware, leaving the linen to Fee. “Some old woman with big hair came in the back door as if she owned the place. We were up to our ears, and I didn’t pay attention. She had the dog when she left, so I just figured she was taking it for a walk.”

  “Was anyone with her?” Fee tried to remember any women with big hair, but the only one coming to mind was the one out in the parking lot, screaming for Sukey.

  “Don’t think so.” The caterer glanced down at her quizzically. “Why?”

  “Because she stole my dog from a locked pantry, and then someone got shot trying to get her back,” Fee said frankly. “We don’t know why.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, dear. I hope the puppy rescuer is all right.”

  Francois had no good reason for rescuing the dog, but Fee didn’t disillusion the nice woman. “We don’t know yet. But I can’t imagine anyone holding a dog also holding a gun, you know what I mean? So we thought maybe there was more than one person.”

  The caterer glanced across the room, apparently searching for someone. “Caitlyn, didn’t you tell the cop you saw a guy come through here?”

  “Just some guys from the resort,” a younger woman packing boxes called back. “And a couple of drunks who made the wrong turn for the restrooms.”

  Monty dropped a hand on Fee’s shoulder. “Walker will know. Let’s take Sukey’s things over to Aaron’s so he can look at them when he returns.”

  Fee had frozen at mention of guys from the resort. She let Monty push her toward the back door. He was always touching, but she needed the extra shove to keep her moving.