Change of Heart

by Jude Deveraux

  She padded barefoot across the living room and as soon as she entered the kitchen, she saw Lanny Frazier. He was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, and looking her up and down. He was a large, handsome man, his eyes half-closed, inviting.

  Chelsea gave the look back at him. “I guess I should have brushed my hair.”

  “Not on my account, Tequila Lady,” he said, his voice slow and seductive as he let her know he remembered her from the bar.

  Pilar, a plate in each hand, stepped between them, her eyes on Lanny’s. “She’s all used up. Last night she and Eli sounded like a herd of cattle.”

  “Yeah?” Lanny said.

  Chelsea wasn’t fooled by his glances. She knew when a man was interested in her and this one wasn’t. Not really. She took a piece of bacon off one of the plates Pilar was holding. “Yes, I’m taken, but I’ll put you on my list.” She paused. “At about a hundred and twenty.”

  There was a little guffaw of laughter from her left and she saw a big kid—no, a huge, enormous boy—sitting at the breakfast table, his head down, a sketchpad in his hands. He looked like a bigger, younger version of Lanny.

  Chelsea went to sit by him at the table. “Drawing anything interesting?”

  He turned the pad around to show a sketch of Chelsea, her long legs exposed, yet looking demurely innocent. Lanny was looking at her in a lecherous way.

  She laughed. “Perfect. Have you met Eli?”

  “At the gym,” the boy said.

  “Oh? Did you bench-press Jeff?”

  He looked at her, his eyes full of laughter.

  Lanny sat down across from Chelsea. “This is my baby brother, Shamus. He leaves for college in just a few weeks. We’re going to miss his constant chattering. Can’t get the kid to shut up.”

  “I think his drawing says everything about you.”

  Pilar put the plates in front of the two males and gave Chelsea a look to stop flirting. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a little T-shirt, and looked quite as good as Chelsea did. “You want some pancakes?”

  “Sure,” Chelsea said. “Just one. No, make that three. Eli wants me to get fat.”

  “You could use a few pounds,” Lanny said. “So where is he hiding?”

  “He’s sleeping,” Chelsea said.

  “Ha!” Pilar said. “He never sleeps. I gave him a list of people he has to call and he’d better do it! They want him back at work. And he often calls his mom.” As she handed Chelsea a plate of pancakes, she stared at her.

  “Don’t look at me,” Chelsea said. “I’m not keeping him here. I’m just visiting. Eli can go back to saving the world anytime he wants to.”

  Pilar gave a curt nod, but she said nothing as she went back to the kitchen.

  In the ensuing silence, Chelsea began to feel a bit awkward. She knew Pilar and Eli were friends and that meant they looked out for each other. But that didn’t include dumping guilt on Chelsea because she wasn’t giving up her life to chain herself to a kitchen. She wasn’t going to spend her days waiting for hubby to come home. He got all the fun; she got the drudgery.

  She looked at Lanny sitting across from her. “Doesn’t Grace Ridgeway work for your family’s company?”

  “She does. But if you’re hoping to become BFFs with her, it won’t happen.”

  “Why not?” Chelsea asked as she bit into the pancakes.

  “She stays to herself. My mom keeps trying to fix her up on dates but Grace won’t go. But then, after what happened with her husband, it’s understandable.”

  “Suicide, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s what Colin was told. He’s—”

  “The sheriff. I met him. Gorgeous man.”

  “Better not let his wife, Gemma, hear you say that. She’s . . .” Lanny made a few punches like a boxer. “Shamus and she work out together.”

  Chelsea looked at the boy, at the sheer size of him. “Olympic shot-putter, is she?”

  Shamus, bent over his drawing pad, smiled.

  Pilar, full plate in hand, sat down between Chelsea and Lanny. “Gemma is built so well I’m thinking of joining Mike’s Gym and putting on the gloves.”

  Lanny looked at her. “But if you’re living in DC . . .” He trailed off as the realization of what she might be saying hit him. He looked down at his pancakes, smiling.

  Chelsea turned to Shamus. “Do you know Abby?”

  He nodded, then handed her his big sketchpad.

  The drawing was of two young people, a boy and a girl. She was very pretty, with long dark hair, while he was cute in a nerdy sort of way. His ears stuck out rather prominently.

  At first Chelsea thought it was a picture of her and Eli as they’d been as kids, but there were too many differences for it to be them. She looked at Shamus. “Is this Grace’s daughter, Abby?”

  He nodded.

  “Who’s the boy?”

  “Scully,” Shamus said.

  “And he is . . . ?”

  Lanny spoke up. “The only person my little brother actually talks to is Gemma, my sister-in-law, so I’ll have to translate. Scully is Grace’s kid’s best friend. I’ve seen them together at the shop several times.” He took the pad, looked at the drawing, then handed it to Pilar. “Nobody gets why she hangs out with him. That girl is a beauty.”

  “She’s fifteen!” Pilar said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Lanny said. “But give her three more years and she’ll be ready to walk down a runway.” He looked at Chelsea.

  “Easier said than done. How tall is she?”

  “About five-eight, I guess.”

  “Too short,” Chelsea said. “What about the kid with her?”

  “He’s inches shorter than she is, if that’s what you mean,” Lanny said. “Poor kid doesn’t have a chance.”

  Chelsea picked up the pad.

  “They remind you of Eli and you?” Pilar asked.

  “They do.” Chelsea looked at Shamus. “You wouldn’t happen to know who she’s going to the prom with, would you?”

  “Baze,” Shamus said and took his pad back. He quickly drew something, then turned the pad around. A very good-looking young man in a football jersey was smiling.

  “Ah, right, I got it. Scully with the ears is the best friend, but she dates the football player.” She was looking at Shamus and waiting for his nod, but the boy just frowned. “I take it that you don’t approve.”

  “Scully is my friend,” Shamus said.

  As Chelsea looked at the picture, she remembered how she’d felt at that age. All those hormones, all that curiosity. Like young Abby, Chelsea had been very pretty—and the boys let her know it. They teased and flirted with her, laughed, and appeared out of nowhere. She’d close her locker door and there would be two beautiful young men there, smiling at her.

  In her family, she’d been one of several daughters and not even considered the prettiest one. Her older sisters were achievers, whereas Chelsea let things happen rather than pushed for them. For most of her childhood she’d been content to follow Eli around as he came up with ways to help people.

  But then puberty hit and there were all those boys saying wonderful things to her about how pretty she was, what a nice voice she had, how smart she was. One boy said her hair was like “silk on a starlit night.”

  All of it had taken her by surprise, had shocked her, as she’d never seen herself as a beauty. One time she’d asked Eli if he thought she was pretty.

  “As compared to what?” he’d asked. The best she could get out of him was when he told her that beauty in a human didn’t matter. It was what was inside that counted.

  Now, as an adult, she knew he was right, but when she was fifteen and being offered rides in red convertibles and being asked out by boys who were big, strong, and beautiful, a person’s inner beliefs weren’t what she cared about. When the senior
captain of the football team asked her out, she didn’t hesitate in saying yes.

  It was hard to believe now but when she’d told Eli about her coming date, she’d expected him to be happy for her. To her, she’d achieved something rather wonderful. But his coldness, his refusal to talk about it, had made her angry at him.

  Had she really expected him to congratulate her? she wondered as she looked at Shamus’s drawing. Maybe she’d hoped that Eli would . . . what? Challenge the football player to a duel? With what? Keyboards?

  “Are you okay?” Lanny asked.

  Chelsea handed the pad back to Shamus. “I’m fine. I was just remembering some things, that’s all.” She turned to Shamus. “How’s Scully taking the fact that his friend is going to the prom with another guy?”

  “Scully is staying home that night.”

  “Right,” Chelsea said. “That’s what Eli did when I went out with someone else. What about you? You have a date for the prom?”

  Lanny snorted. “My little brother doesn’t single out girls. He goes out with a group of them at a time. At halftime in football games the cheerleaders climb on him. How many of them do you hold up at one time?”

  In answer, Shamus turned the drawing pad around. It was a picture of him standing up with four cute little cheerleaders hanging on to him. Two had a foot at his waist, holding his hands as they leaned far out to the side. A pyramid of two girls stood on his shoulders.

  Chelsea laughed. “I’d like to see that.”

  “See what?” Eli asked from the doorway. He had showered and was freshly shaved and dressed.

  “How’s your mom?” Chelsea asked, letting him know she knew he hadn’t been sleeping.

  “Great. She sends her love to you.”

  Chelsea was annoyed that he was his usual cool, remote self after the night they’d spent together. But when the others looked away, his eyes changed to so hot the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She started to leave the table but Eli turned away to fill a plate with Pilar’s pancakes. He sat down between the two women.

  “Anything going on that I should know about?”

  Lanny spoke first. “Your girlfriend has been quizzing us about Grace Ridgeway and her daughter. I think Scully is going to be collateral damage. So what’s up about them? If Grace is in any kind of trouble, our family will help.”

  “There will be no problems,” Eli said between bites. “I turned everything over to my dad, and he’s going to look into the papers we found and . . .” Eli shrugged. “That’s it. I thought maybe we could all go out on a boat today. I have some relatives who are really good on the water so I’ve spent quite a bit of time with boats and we— What?!”

  Everyone was staring at him. Pilar, Lanny, Chelsea, and even Shamus were all looking at him as though they couldn’t believe what he was saying.

  “Let me guess,” Chelsea said. “You get us all on a boat, then you suddenly remember that you forgot your sunscreen and you . . . What? You swim away? How good a swimmer have you become since I last saw you?”

  Eli filled his mouth and didn’t answer.

  “None of the agents can beat him in a pool in the training sessions,” Pilar said.

  Eli gave her a look of disgust. “Traitor!” he mumbled.

  Lanny was frowning as he looked from Eli to Pilar. “Is there anything between you two besides work?”

  “No!” Eli and Pilar said in unison.

  Shamus gave a little laugh at their tone.

  Chelsea stood up. “I think I’m going to stay here today and do nothing. Maybe I’ll take a nap. Pilar, I bet there’s a lot of work Eli needs to do, so maybe you two could drive up to DC for the day.” She gave an exaggerated yawn. “Yeah, a nap would be lovely.” She started to leave the room.

  Eli caught her hand and motioned for her to sit back down. “Okay, no boat, no nap.”

  “What about saving the world?” Chelsea asked.

  “That’s been put on hold too.” Eli couldn’t help a small smile.

  “So what are we going to do today, Great Leader?” Chelsea asked.

  “Anyone wanta tell me what’s going on?” Lanny asked.

  “Pilar will,” Eli said. He was looking at Chelsea. “What’s in your mind?”

  Chelsea looked at her nails. “I need a manicure and I thought I’d do a little shopping. Not much, just some.”

  Eli looked at her. “You’re planning to buy Abby a prom dress, aren’t you?”

  “Possibly,” Chelsea said and looked at Lanny. “Where can I go shopping?”

  “There’s a big outlet mall in Williamsburg.”

  “Sounds good,” Chelsea said and again started to get up, but again Eli caught her hand.

  “You can’t get involved in this. I’m concerned about . . . about some things.”

  Chelsea sat back down. “What have you found out?”

  Eli gave a glance at Lanny, then Shamus. His eyes told Chelsea that he couldn’t speak in front of them.

  But she wasn’t buying it. She had no doubt that if at all possible Eli would exclude her from everything. She looked him in the eyes. “Remember when we were kids and every time you thought there was danger you tried to exclude me? It didn’t work then and it’s not going to work now.”

  Eli glared back at her. “You want to buy her a dress so she can go out with Axel, don’t you?”

  “Did I miss something?” Lanny asked Pilar. “Who is Axel?”

  “My guess is that he’s Chelsea’s high school football player.” She didn’t take her eyes off Chelsea and Eli, who were glaring at each other like dogs ready to attack.

  “You’re not going to stop me,” Chelsea said, her teeth clenched. “Whoever Abby goes with, she deserves to look good.”

  “And where has your beauty taken you? Heard from your polo player yet?”

  “No, but when I do, I’ll let him know how glad I am to see him.”

  “I think . . .” Lanny began as he stood up.

  “Yeah, we should go,” Pilar said, and they both looked pointedly at Shamus, who hadn’t moved.

  The boy was tapping on his cell phone. Within seconds, he handed the phone to Chelsea.

  She was still glaring at Eli, her eyes angry, and she had to read the phone twice before she saw it. She looked at Shamus. “Is this real?”

  Shamus gave a nod, then stood up and closed his sketchpad.

  “Thanks a lot,” Chelsea said and returned his phone to him. “I’ll get dressed and . . .” When she looked at Eli, the anger returned to her face.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled at her. “Because if it has to do with this case, I’m not going to allow you to—”

  “Allow me? Allow me?!”

  Lanny got Pilar and Shamus out of the house quickly.

  Inside, Chelsea, still glaring at Eli, said, “Are they gone?”

  “Yeah.” His shoulders relaxed. “Are there any more pancakes? And what was on the kid’s phone?”

  “A couple of them are on the stove, and it was the Twitter Road on the phone. Shamus—that darling child—asked somebody where Abby was going to be today and was told that her mom is dropping her and Scully off at the outlet mall at eleven. Poor kid is to pick out her dress with the help of a computer geek.”

  Eli was looking out the window at the car parked in front. Shamus was in the backseat, while Lanny and Pilar were quietly talking by the front.

  Smiling, Shamus raised his hand in farewell. “The kid knows our fight was an act to get rid of them.”

  “I think Pilar does too, but she wants time alone with Lanny. She’s talking about moving here.”

  “So you said. The truth is that I think you should stay here today. I bet you can get your nails done here in Edilean.”

  “I’m sure I could. Then you could help nerdy Scully with Abby’s prom dress. Act
ually, it might be worth it to see what you two would come up with. My guess would be a lacy collar and little ruffles on the cuffs of the long sleeves. And of course a floor-length skirt.”

  “I think that sounds great.”

  “If you’re a Sister Wife. Come on, let’s get dressed and go to the mall.”

  Eli was on the couch with his laptop, pretending to read what the general had sent him, while he waited for Chelsea to get dressed. This morning it hadn’t been easy to act unconcerned when he’d found out Pilar had told Chelsea that he wasn’t sleeping. But the second Chelsea was out of the room, Eli had started making calls. He wanted to know how serious all this with Orin Peterson was.

  First he called Frank. So far, there was no word about the papers. The shredded documents were still being put together on the computers.

  Next he talked to his mother. She’d met her first husband—Eli refused to call Leslie Harcourt his

  father—in Edilean and she might know something.

  Miranda was a wealth of information. She’d not kept in touch with anyone in Edilean, but she had read every story in the news about the small town.

  “A few years ago there was a major scandal in town. A man ended up getting killed and there were arrests. It had to do with some old paintings.” Miranda took a breath. “The important part of all this is that a man named Mike Newcomb is a law enforcement agent and he handled it all. He lives in Edilean. You think he knows what you do for a living?”

  On his end of the phone, Eli smiled. Mike ran the gym where he worked out, and he’d always felt that there was more to him than just owning a gym. But Mike had never even hinted about himself—

  another thing Eli liked. “Mike is good friends with the local sheriff so, yeah, I’m sure he knows all about what I do.”

  “Good!” Miranda said. “I don’t want you to be alone.” She paused. “How are you and Chelsea?”

  “Great,” Eli said, but then let out his breath. There was no use lying to his mother. She’d know. “She’s not going to stay with me, if that’s what you want to know.”

  “Have you asked her to?”

  “She’d laugh in my face. She checks her email every few minutes and is always disappointed that her polo-player boyfriend hasn’t contacted her.”