First Impressions

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First Impressions Page 21

by Jude Deveraux


  “Yeah, sure,” he said. Truthfully, he wanted to sit up with her for a while and talk about finding the necklace. He’d had some experience with jewels, and he thought he might be able to help her make some decisions. But, mainly, he’d wanted to just sit and talk with her. Or watch TV together. It had been years since he’d just sat beside a woman and watched TV. Not since his marriage broke up had he done such an ordinary thing.

  He nodded to the necklace that was in her hand. “You think—” He broke off when she tossed the necklace at him and he barely caught it. “Sure you don’t want to wear it to bed?” he asked, teasing.

  “That necklace caused the deaths of several people and rivers of tears. The sooner I get rid of it, the better. Look,” she said, “could you please do what you have to do as quickly as possible so all of you can get out of here?”

  Holding the necklace, Jared thought how it was still warm from her hand. “I’ll do my best,” he said, smiling, but Eden didn’t smile back. Turning, she went up to her bedroom.

  He stood at the foot of the stairs for a while, then walked into the kitchen, where he got a piece of cake to take outside to the agent on duty. He had seen nothing unusual, heard nothing.

  “What about you?” the agent asked. “Find anything?”

  Jared started to make a joke about finding millions in sapphires and diamonds but thought better of it. Years of training had taught him to trust no one. He bid the man good night, then walked to the far side of the house and called Bill Teasdale.

  “So what has forensics found out about the men who ransacked the house?” Jared asked.

  “Nothing yet. There were lots of hairs, but none from strangers. And thanks for leaving that sample of Ms. Palmer’s hair. You find out anything?”

  Jared gave a snort. He wasn’t fooled by Bill’s faked ignorance. “Saw the tapes, did you?”

  “Yeah, we watched the whole thing. Most exciting thing to happen around here in years. A real treasure hunt. So what’s she going to do with that thing?”

  “I don’t know,” Jared said, pulling the necklace out of his pocket to look at it in the moonlight. “I can’t figure out if this necklace has anything to do with all this or not.”

  “You know what I think?” Bill asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “I think that if Applegate stood up and said that he’d been looking for that necklace, you’d still come up with an excuse to stay there. If you could have seen your face when Ms. Palmer kissed Granville!”

  “Had a good laugh at my expense, did you?” Jared said tightly.

  “The best.”

  “If the necklace is what they’ve all wanted, then how was Applegate connected to the goons who ransacked this place and put the snakes in Eden’s bedroom? It doesn’t make sense to try to kill her.”

  “Her death would get her out of the picture, wouldn’t it?” Bill said. “I’m sure her heirs would put that old house up for sale. Who’d want to live in Arundel if you weren’t born there? No jobs, nothing to do.”

  “It’s a nice place and the house is great,” Jared said defensively, then had to listen to Bill chuckle. “Okay, so I like her and I like this place. I admit it. But whether or not I like anything has nothing to do with this case. If you can get your mind out of the gutter for a moment, maybe you’ll remember Tess’s death and that someone tried to kill Ms. Palmer.”

  “All right,” Bill said. “What do you have?”

  “Nothing but instinct. Something isn’t what it seems, but I don’t know what it is. When Eden told me that story about old man Minton I knew that he’d killed his wife. If I figured it out, others can too. But who heard the story?”

  “Anyone with an Internet hookup. I found it in three hundred and eighty-one sites. Lots of people are interested in missing treasure.”

  Jared groaned. “I want you to check out Braddon Granville.”

  “Ah,” Bill said.

  “Cut the crap!” Jared snapped. “This isn’t personal. He knows too much, figures out too much. And it’s been my experience that normal people aren’t suspicious, but Granville is.”

  “He’s a lawyer, isn’t he?” Bill said. “What do you call ten thousand lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?”

  “A good start,” Jared said, bored. “I just want you to check this guy out. Anything you can find out about him, I want to know.”

  “You know what I think? I think you’re falling for this Eden Palmer so hard that I’m beginning to wonder if we should put someone else on the case.”

  “What I feel for her isn’t hindering my judgment,” Jared said tightly.

  “What about your vow to stay away from ‘good’ women?”

  “Bill, you wanta cut this out? What I think of Ms. Palmer has nothing to do with anything. I want this guy Granville checked out.”

  “He broke a man’s jaw.”

  Jared grimaced. “You’ve already done the research, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I couldn’t resist hassling you. I did some checking, and a few years back, Granville broke a man’s jaw, but the guy didn’t press charges.”

  Jared waited for Bill to continue.

  “The police report said that Braddon Norfleet Granville walked into a party that was to celebrate the recent marriage of Tredwell Norfleet Pembroke…Norfleet in both names. Think they’re cousins?”

  “They’re all cousins here. It’s the South, remember? Go on.”

  “Granville walked into the party, hit Pembroke, and smashed his jaw. The man had to have it wired back together. The report doesn’t say what they fought about, but it must have been something big.”

  “Granville broke the guy’s jaw, but the man didn’t press charges?”

  “That’s right. Maybe it was a family thing.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Jared said softly. “Send me all that you have, will you? I want to know everything there is to know about him.”

  “We don’t have much. He’s never even had a traffic ticket, but that town protects its own. You know what old lady Farrington did, don’t you, and that was covered up. The police report of her son’s death said ‘accidental drowning.’ ”

  Jared had his own ideas about justice, so he didn’t comment on what Bill was saying. There had been more than once when Jared had played judge and jury. “Just send me what you have and I’ll find out what I can from the locals. Nobody knows people like childhood friends.” He changed the subject. “So what did you think of Tess’s watercolors?”

  “Threw me for a loop. She never struck me as being the watercolor type. No, Tess Brewster was more the pit bull type. If I’d been told she owned any paintings, I would have guessed they were on velvet.”

  “Find out about her painting, will you?”

  “I’ve already sent out the order.”

  Jared hesitated before he asked his next question. “Bill, isn’t your wife a member of some garden club?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she can use a shovel. She and her sister like to visit gardens around the world—at my expense.” There was disgust in Bill’s voice, but Jared ignored it.

  “Could you find out what kind of things a real gardener would like? Not some lady-gardener things, but for a serious gardener.”

  “Right. Something like that Melissa plant, maybe? Around here, we call that ‘the kissing plant.’ ”

  “Wasn’t I sent here to woo her?” Jared asked, anger in his voice.

  “Yeah, but it was supposed to be an act. And besides, you’re doing a very bad job of it. She sure doesn’t like you much, does she? And who is this woman who calls you every ten minutes?”

  “Minnie Norfleet. She works for Granville. I don’t have time for her now. Besides, she’s not my type. As for Eden, she doesn’t like me because she doesn’t know me.”

  “She feeds you and does your laundry. What else is there to know?”

  Jared started to reply, but Bill’s chuckling stopped him. “Just get some gardening things, will you?”

  “Are we talking a co
uple of plants or a twenty-thousand-dollar greenhouse?”

  “Whatever is mobile. Tools, maybe. The old potting shed here is full of rusty shovels.”

  “Who pays?”

  “Me. Put it all on my AmEx.”

  “If you’ll just give me your number—” Bill began, but that was too much for Jared. Like the FBI didn’t have the credit card numbers of pretty much everyone on the planet. When Jared didn’t answer, Bill laughed. “By the way, your new girlfriend, the stripper, she’s been out with some other men. I thought you might like to know that you’re free.”

  Jared didn’t say anything for a moment. Just days ago, Bill had acted as though he didn’t know anything about Jared’s new girlfriend, but now he was admitting that he knew all about her—and had had her watched. Jared didn’t know if he should be grateful or offended. “I’m too old for this job,” he muttered as he snapped the phone shut, then went back into the house. He saw the light on under Eden’s bedroom door and started to knock and ask if everything was all right, but then he glanced up at the camera in the shadows and thought better of it. Everything that went on inside the house was now being watched by men at the agency, so he went to his own bedroom. As he put his hand on the knob, he heard the soft sounds of the washing machine and remembered what Bill had said: “She feeds you and does your laundry. What else is there to know?”

  Jared told himself that Bill was right on one count: Jared needed to stand back from this case, distance himself. Did he really and truly like Eden Palmer, or was it just that he didn’t like to lose? He was being out-courted by a slick, small-town lawyer, and he didn’t like it. Was his problem that he was losing or was his problem Ms. Palmer herself?

  He ran his hand over his eyes. Maybe Granville was on the up-and-up. Maybe he was just what he seemed to be: a small-town lawyer who had been knocked over by the arrival of a beautiful woman like Eden Palmer. Jared well knew how few women like Eden there were out there. Sometimes it seemed to him that if you didn’t find the right woman when you were in your twenties, then you lost your chance. It seemed that all the best women were claimed the moment they put on high heels.

  But somehow, through circumstances, a grown-up woman like Eden was still unattached.

  Bill was right: Jared was losing his perspective. He was getting to the point where he couldn’t see clearly. He’d have to change that or he’d be taken off the case. First, he had to figure out who was doing what and why. Was it all for that damned necklace? Who else would know that it actually existed and that Mrs. Farrington had found it? The man who’d helped her find it, Toddy, knew, at least one of his grandchildren, and…Jared’s eyes widened. Mrs. Farrington’s lawyer would probably know. Did Eden have a copy of the will? Or had Granville not bothered to give her one?

  In the next instant, Jared was outside Eden’s bedroom door and knocking on it.

  “Come in,” she said.

  She was sitting in bed, her face washed clean, reading glasses perched on her nose, and wearing an old, pink nightgown. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sexier in his life. She didn’t look like a centerfold, but she looked like home, a place where food was in the oven, clean clothes were in the drawers, and the bills were paid. She looked like someone who’d wait up for a man when he was out late. And she’d forgive him when he screwed up. And she’d give him hell at the same time. She looked like a woman who…No, that was it. She looked like a woman. Not a girl, but a woman. He wanted to climb into bed with her and rest his head on her breast. Then he’d turn and touch her lips with his own and—

  “You want to get that look off your face, McBride?” Eden said, taking off her glasses. “If I scream, all of the FBI will hear me.”

  Her words brought him back to reality. Without asking permission, he sat down on the end of her bed. “Did Granville give you a copy of Mrs. Farrington’s will?”

  “Yes,” she said coolly. “It’s there in the bottom drawer.” She motioned toward the big TV cabinet across from the foot of her bed. When he went to it, she said, “Watch out for snakes.”

  “Funny,” he said, opening the drawer and pulling out the document. It was in a dark blue folder with Granville’s name on it in gold. “Fancy. Think he sends his stuff off to New York to be printed?”

  When he looked back at her, she wasn’t smiling. “Okay, sorry,” he said, then sat back down on the end of her bed. She had to move her foot to keep him from sitting on it. Quickly, he read the document, then closed it. “Just as I thought, you get everything.” He looked at her. “There were no other relatives?”

  Eden didn’t answer but narrowed her eyes at him.

  With a half smile, he got off of her bed. Turning, he put his hands on the iron footboard. “Do you really and truly think that Granville is innocent in all this?”

  “Are you asking me if I think he murdered a woman to get—What exactly was his reason for murdering Ms. Brewster? He didn’t get the jewels, and I’m not even sure she knew they were behind the picture. Only someone familiar with the house and its furnishings would notice that the necklace had been painted onto Aunt Hester’s scrawny neck.”

  “And Granville said that he’d spent so much time in that hall that he could draw the wallpaper.”

  “If you’re hinting that he might have known, he took a year to find me, so why didn’t he open the painting during that time?”

  “Then what? Try to fence some rocks the size of chicken eggs?”

  Eden threw up her hands. “So he waited until I got here, then he started courting me so he could get the jewels. If all he likes about me is the necklace, what’s your excuse?”

  “I like your left hook,” Jared said, but she didn’t smile. He stuck his hands in his pockets. He knew he should leave. The guys back at the office had probably set a stopwatch when he’d entered Eden’s bedroom. But Jared didn’t leave. “So what are you reading?”

  “I happen to be earning a living. Remember that part of my life? My publishing house works on a schedule, and these books need to be edited and returned.”

  “So what’s involved in editing a book?” he asked, moving toward her.

  “One step closer and I yell for help,” Eden said calmly. “Why don’t you go back to your own room now?”

  Jared didn’t move. “Ever hear of a jelly beanie? Cranberry juice, gin, that sort of thing? Jelly beans in the bottom of the glass.”

  “Is this some form of seduction?”

  “Yeah. I have to get a woman drunk before she’ll go to bed with me.”

  Eden looked at him, at his dark eyes and hair, and his statement was so ridiculous that she smiled. “Okay, one jelly beanie. I’m so wound up from the excitement of tonight that I’ll be awake all night. So what did you do with the necklace?”

  Jared pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it onto the covers by her hip. “How about if you take everything off, put on the necklace, and wait for me?”

  “Hold your breath,” she said, and Jared grinned.

  As he put his hand on the door, he said, “Honestly, is there anything I can do to help with those things?” He nodded toward the stack of manuscripts on the floor.

  “One of them is a spy thriller, and I hate those things. All that techno-jargon bores me. You wouldn’t want to read it and write a report, would you? My publishing house would love to have an expert’s opinion.”

  “On one condition,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “And what is that?”

  “That you let me watch your TV while I read.”

  Eden had to laugh. “Sure. Just keep the sound down so I can edit.”

  “Great! One jelly beanie and one straight whiskey coming up.”

  An hour later, the manuscripts were on the floor and they were watching their third episode of Fawlty Towers and laughing hilariously. Jared sat on the chair by the bed and Eden lay propped up in bed on her four fat pillows. It was well into the wee hours of the morning before Jared said good night and left the room.

&nb
sp; Chapter Sixteen

  THE ringing of the telephone woke Eden. Groggily, she reached for it without opening her eyes.

  “Mother!” came her daughter’s irate voice. “I haven’t heard from you in more than a week.”

  “I’m sorry, dear, but I’ve been very busy.” Eden didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to wake up. What in the world had McBride put in that drink last night? Some secret sedative that made people want to sleep for days? And what had been his motive? To put her out so he and his fellow agents could go through more of the house? They probably were embarrassed that they hadn’t taken apart all of Tyrrell Farrington’s paintings and looked inside them. Her eyes flew open. If they were now taking apart those paintings, so help her, she was going to—

  “Mother, are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” Eden said guiltily. “I’m still a little sleepy. What time is it anyway?”

  There was a long silence on the phone before Melissa said, “It is ten minutes after eleven A.M. Mother, are you ill?”

  Eden slowly sat up in the bed, turned on the lamp, glanced at the clock, and saw that it was indeed midmorning. She didn’t think she’d ever slept so late in her life. But then, single mothers didn’t have time to sleep, did they? There was no husband to take the kids out for pancakes so Mom could sleep. “No, I’m not ill, it’s just that it’s been rather hectic since I got here and I guess I was rather tired last night.”

  “Hectic? In Arundel, North Carolina? Mother, I live in New York City. What could be more hectic than here?”

  Being in the hospital, being investigated by the FBI, having a new job, meeting a couple of men, Eden wanted to say, but didn’t. If Melissa was saying “Mother” every other word, then she was upset about something. “I wasn’t comparing lives. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Melissa said. “I just called to see how you were. You ran off to take possession of some old house, and it’s only the second time we’ve ever been separated, but I didn’t hear from you. I was just worried, that’s all.”

 

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