Spring Tides

by Jill Allyson Keene

  “Now I’m really glad you came. I might get lost here, never to be heard from again. Jesus. People don’t actually live like this.” Bev rubbed her right temple trying to clear the headache coming on.

  “Oh, stop. Of course they do.”

  “Sure. People like the Kennedys or European royalty.”

  “You need a crash course in how to behave. You’re about to meet your staff, and I don’t want my daughter to act like a bumpkin.”

  “How am I supposed to act? I didn’t go to finishing school.”

  “Well, I did. Follow my lead. Good manners are the same anywhere, and you were raised right. Relax.”

  “Easier said. What do you mean by ‘staff’?”

  “You don’t run a house of this size without significant support. They live in, and unless I am very much mistaken, my father probably kept many of the same people over the years. He despised change.”

  “Where is my mother and what have you done with her? You know how to run a house like this?”

  “Naturally,” Reggie said. “All part of being a Winslow.”

  Bev stared out the window. Out of her element didn’t begin to cover how she was feeling as she took in the scenery. The grounds were just starting to green with fresh spring grass and bulbs pushing through. Sycamore trees lined the white gravel drive and, while not yet full, would surely be stunning when the leaves unfurled.

  Beyond the drive was a circular turnaround complete with a stone fountain with a lion in the center. The stairs leading to the entrance were massive, wider than the limousine. She took in the topiaries, the stained glass, and granite. She lost count of how many windows looked out at her.

  Telling herself to get it together, she finally noticed a familiar face. Finn stood at the entrance stairs on the landing in front of the massive, wooden doors. He wore a gray suit with a blue tie. He looked perfect, of course. She wore a black sweater, jeans, and boots. Nice, high-heeled, leather boots, but still, she felt stupid and under-dressed. Her business phone dinged a signal. She rushed to silence the damn thing.

  He was speaking with a woman she recognized. Why was she here? Bev’s stomach dropped at her mother’s indrawn breath.

  “Looks like your Auntie Serena decided to pay you a visit. Try and be nice.” Dumbfounded by the sudden change in her mother’s demeanor, she could only shake her head and follow as Reggie exited the car. Len, her driver and guard, held open the door for them.

  He leaned over and said, “Miss Winslow, Serena Hamilton was not scheduled to be here. Should I ask her to leave?”

  “I’ll wait to see what she has to say.” She then spoke to her mother. “Ma, you don’t need to do this,” she whispered. The splashing from the fountain drowned out their conversation.

  Reggie trilled a little laugh. “Don’t be silly, Bevie. She’s my sister. I can handle this. Now fake a smile and remember who you are.”

  “I don’t even know who you are anymore,” she said through clenched teeth and a false smile. “We seriously need to talk about this when we’re alone. I’m not sure I like the new you.”

  Reggie pivoted to her daughter again. Her smile didn’t seem fake when she spoke, and her words were soft, controlled. “For the first time in my life, you need my help instead of the other way around. It’s a nice change for me, since I’m the mother and I wish I’d been a better one much earlier. I can’t make up for everything, but I can do something today. Now watch and learn.”

  She followed her mother up the stone steps. Reaching them first, Reggie said nothing. Bev raised both eyebrows at Finn. He answered her unspoken question before anyone else spoke. “Good afternoon, ladies. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I’m here to make sure Ms. Winslow is abiding by tenets set forth in the will. The document requires you to live here on weekends when possible. Thank you for scratching this one off the list.” He winked at her and then gestured to Serena. “Mrs. Hamilton called and asked to meet with you, Miss Winslow. She would like to make a proposal.”

  Serena’s brown hair was swept back off her unlined forehead and face. She’d aged quite well, and Bev wondered if she’d had any help in that department. She wore pearls—necklace and earrings. Her suit, almost the same color as the pearls, with pumps to match. She looked fantastic.

  “What can I do for you, Mrs. Hamilton?”

  Serena cleared her throat. She looked her up and down, and then sniffed. Her mouth pinched. “I’ll get right to the point. My husband has convinced me to go along with this charade for the greater good. That is the only reason I am here.”

  Bev snorted. “No tearful family reunion?”

  “Certainly not. Don’t be ridiculous.” She snapped. “Your sarcasm will not serve you well, miss. I am here to offer help in your transition of becoming head of the empire. It is clear you lack the sophistication and style needed for the job, but as much as we all wish it weren’t true, you are here to stay. Therefore, in my opinion, you must be instructed in the Winslow way.”

  “Mrs. Hamilton,” Finn said, “you are out of line.”

  Bev patted his arm. “Don’t worry; I got this.”

  Clenching both fists, she got in Serena’s face. “The Winslow Way? That sounds a little too Germany 1939 for me. And since my mother was on the receiving end of the Winslow Way thirty years ago, I am certainly not continuing the tradition. I thank you for the offer and the overt insults, but we don’t need your assistance at all. Ever.”

  She turned and inclined her head to Len, her guard. “I think Mrs. Hamilton is finished here.”

  Reggie nudged Bev out of the way. “No, she isn’t.”

  “Ma, let her go.”

  “Oh, she will definitely be leaving, but not before she tells me where it is.”

  Serena’s face paled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and how dare you address me?” Serena turned her head as if that would make Reggie disappear.

  Before she could defend her mother, Reggie grabbed Serena’s arm. “Look at me, Rena. I’m not going anywhere. But you are. And whether you choose to acknowledge me or not, I will get what’s mine. I’ll expect it within twenty-four hours, and then, my darling sister, you and I really are through. And Rena, if you ever again speak to my daughter the way you just did, I will make sure your plastic surgeon has more than a few nips and tucks to deal with next time you see him.”

  Serena turned her nose down. “Still the same vulgar Regina.”

  “Still the same snob Serena,” Reggie said. “You always believed the Winslow name gave you an excuse to do whatever you wanted. It must kill you he chose my daughter over you and yours.” Reggie waved both her hands. “None of it matters now. You’ve made your feelings clear and, with them, you won’t be welcome here.” Serena opened her mouth. Reggie raised her hand. “Oh, we’ll go along with the public farce—for the good of the Winslow name. But there will be nothing more. Stay away from me and mine. And send me back what you stole.” Reggie gave a small salute. “That will be all.”

  Serena turned on her heel and stalked away to her waiting car and driver.

  Bev let out the breath she'd been holding. “What the hell?”

  “She stole my emerald necklace,” Reggie said. “I’ve taken the high road for thirty years, but it was my mother’s. She gave it to me and I want it back. It belongs to you now, Bevie. She’d better get it back to me. I’d hate to send Len and your security team to shake her down.”

  Still shaken from seeing her mother stand up for herself, she reacted slower. “I have no words for whatever that was.”

  “I’m sorry, Beverly,” Finn said. “She told me she wanted to reconcile. I honestly didn’t believe her, but I thought it would be better to get the confrontation over with.”

  She shuddered. “That lady hates me.”

  “I wouldn’t let it worry you, sweetheart,” her mother said. “She is a nasty bit of goods. Always has been, actually. You can’t let her get to you. I made that mistake. The only thing I care about now is you and making sure y
ou’re safe. With no intention of reliving my childhood.”

  “I can’t imagine growing up in the same house with her.”

  “Let’s just say if my father hadn’t kicked me out all those years ago, I would still need therapy for my eighteen years of living with Serena.” She waved it away. “We are being rude to Finn, and this is too fine a day to ruin. Let’s go inside,” Reggie said.

  “Just a minute, Ma. I want to ask Finn something. Any news from your friend in the FBI?”

  “Nothing worth mentioning, except to say Serena seems above reproach; she’s clean. It doesn’t appear she is behind this.”

  “Yeah, too easy.”

  “I haven’t given up yet. It doesn’t appear she’s behind it; there is the old saying about looks and deception.”

  Reggie patted both of their shoulders. “You two will figure this out together. I can already tell how your minds are tuned in to one another. You two will solve it, and my baby can take her place as the rightful scion of Winslow Holdings.” At her daughter’s arched look, Reggie burst out laughing. “I couldn’t resist; sorry, honey. I know you don’t want all this, but no one could be better suited for the job.”

  “She’s right, Beverly.”

  “I don’t possess the confidence you two seem to have in me. Why do you keep saying I’m the right choice? I’ve never done anything on this scale before.” She gestured to the huge mansion behind her. “Jesus, I don’t even know what to wear to meet my staff.” She used air quotes. “Who the hell has a staff these days anyways? What could you two be thinking? What makes me the logical choice?”

  He nudged her shoulder. “You’re the only human who won’t let it all go to your head.”

  Reggie bumped into her playfully. “And that makes you perfect.”

  She could cry at any moment. They weren’t hearing her. “I need a drink.”

  He gestured to the mansion. “There’s milk in the house, I’m sure.”

  She stared at the monstrous doors. “That isn’t helpful.”

  “Stop putting it off, young lady. It’s yours. Deal with it.”

  Bev took a deep breath, raised her chin, and then knocked on the door. Deal with it she would. She had no choice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You might want to do some updating. The foyer is a bit nineteenth century.”

  The amusement in his voice echoed in the huge space. The hammering in her chest wouldn’t let up enough for her to catch her breath. A group of twenty-five strangers stood in said foyer, waiting for her to say something.

  The foyer, heavily paneled in dark wood, was enormous enough to fit her now destroyed office, the small fishing boat, and her cottage—with room to spare. Gilded-framed portraits hung everywhere, and she even saw a painting of a golden retriever. She had stumbled into fantasy land. A thought popped into her head and, instead of addressing the staff as she should, she spoke it aloud. “It looks like the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney. I half expect the room to start stretching.”

  Finn laughed, as did the staff. Her mother was less amused. “Beverly Regina Winslow start as you mean to go on, young lady. You aren’t rude…usually.”

  “Apparently I am.” She faced the staff. “I apologize. This is all a little overwhelming. I’m Beverly. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  A silver-haired man in a black suit stepped forward. “I am Conroy, Miss Winslow.”

  “Please call me Bev.”

  Conroy eyes widened at the suggestion. “I-I…” he stammered.

  Reggie stepped in. “Sweetheart, Conroy will feel more comfortable calling you Miss Winslow, for the time being.”

  Faux pas number two. Now she had alienated this guy. Who else would she offend before the day was through?

  Conroy bowed a little. “Thank you, Miss Regina. We welcome you home as well as the new owner, your daughter. We haven’t forgotten you.”

  Her mother’s eyes glistened. Conroy loudly cleared his throat. Reggie sniffed and straightened, smoothed her blouse.

  “Thank you, Conroy, that is lovely to hear. I won’t worry about my daughter, with you taking care of her. Why don’t you tell her how things are done here?”

  Conroy gave Bev a dour look she was sure he’d learned when he was seven years old in butler school and began. “We are pleased to welcome you to your new home. We are your inside staff. The outside staff is subcontracted, and that is handled by Marina.” He gestured to a sturdy-looking woman with iron-gray hair and wearing a blue housekeeper’s uniform. She half-dipped in an awkward curtsy. As Bev smiled at the woman, Conroy spoke again. “I am the head of the household. If you need anything or would like anything changed, it is proper for you to contact me first. Marina is here if I am not available. As per your grandfather’s wishes, we follow a traditional British system.” He pointed to a woman with sandy-blond hair who was wearing a white chef’s jacket. “This is Cook.”

  She tried really hard not to roll her eyes. The woman wasn’t allowed a first name? She wasn’t sure she could do this. Undaunted, Conroy pressed on. “If you need anything from the kitchen or are having guests or something hasn’t been prepared to your liking, please alert Marina. She will notify Cook.” Conroy moved slightly down the line of people. “If you would like, I will introduce you to the rest of the staff.”

  “Sure, that would be great.” Her head reeled as each name was rattled off. Would she ever remember them? Would she ever actually see them? She didn’t plan on spending a lot of time here.

  “Shall we expect your input for the Maine Children’s Hospital Charity Ball?” Conroy asked.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Ms. Serena was handling the details. Your grandfather always held it here on the lawns. It is in two weeks. Shall we continue conferring with Ms. Serena, or will you see to the details? Perhaps Ms. Serena should continue to be consulted until Miss Winslow is ready for such a task?”

  She had no clue how to plan a charity ball, and she didn’t have anything to wear to one. Apparently, Conroy was fully aware of her ineptitude and didn’t want to sully the charity ball’s reputation.

  Reggie came to stand next to her. “Miss Winslow will be overseeing everything. Ms. Serena has been relieved of her duties to the Winslow Foundation.”

  She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as if the staff—all except Conroy—let out a collective sigh with this news. She didn’t blame them for being relieved. Serena was a bitch to her own family. Bev could only imagine how awful she’d be to the household staff.

  As the staff discreetly exited, she turned on her mother. “How the hell am I supposed to plan a charity ball? I haven’t even planned a birthday party.”

  “You actually aren’t alone in this.” Her mother said. “Unless of course you’d like Serena’s help?”

  “I’d rather jump naked into the Atlantic in the middle of December.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Doesn’t solve the problem, though.”

  “I can help,” Reggie said. “I’ve actually done this before.”

  She didn’t like that idea. It put her mother too close to the Winslows and in danger of losing herself again. “But I need you at Atlantic Charters.”

  Before her mother could answer, Finn stepped forward. “I have a sister, a mother, and a personal assistant with experience in this sort of thing.”

  She didn’t love that idea much more than her mother helping. That meant meeting his family, and they were out of her league, just like him. But she was down to her last options. Plus she’d look ungrateful and petty if she said no. “Thanks. I appreciate the offer.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Reggie clapped her hands together. “Now I can help Joe with rebuilding the Atlantic Charters offices, and Bevie can concentrate on being president and CEO.”

  Her phone pinged a reminder. “Speaking of, I’m taking a call in one hour from Winslow Holdings offices in San Francisco. So why don’t we let Conroy show us around, and then Finn can sign off on this part—me tak
ing over the house. After that, I’ll take the call.” Bev turned to him. “Is there anything else you need me to do so you can make things legal?”

  “Yes, but I’ll wait until after the tour and your call. I’ve cleared the day for you, but while you’re doing your call I can catch up on some case files I’ve brought. I’ll show you the safe and some other things. But like I said, I’ll keep myself busy.”

  “I own a safe?” She snorted. “Of course I do. Why am I surprised?”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “You’ll get used to it. If it still contains the same things it always did, there are some old coins and my mother’s wedding band. Nothing crazy for Reginald.” Reggie faced Conroy, who had surreptitiously returned. “Miss Winslow is ready for the tour.”

  “Yes, Miss Regina. Before we begin, I took the liberty of preparing the conference room for your call, Miss Winslow. Also, bedrooms are prepared for yourself, Miss Regina, and Mr. Callahan.”

  Bev whipped her head toward Finn and then back to the butler. “I don’t think Mr. Callahan had plans of staying.”

  He didn’t conceal his grin. “Actually, on your schedule is a meeting with your personal banker here tomorrow at seven A.M. I’d prefer not to make the drive back to Boston tonight. I thought Ms. Garrett had informed you?”

  “No, but in her defense, I’m supposed to look at my schedule more. It seems to change constantly. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

  Reggie and Finn were escorted to their rooms to freshen up, and she was left with the butler. She turned to Conroy. “Thank you for seeing to all of this. We can begin when you’re ready.”

  “Yes, Miss Winslow. Perhaps we shall begin here in the Great Hall.” He pointed to one of the portraits on the wall. “This is Josiah Winslow, the first Winslow to arrive in America. He was rumored to associate with witches. That should appeal to Miss Winslow, as she lives in that most historic city of Salem.”

  She smiled at Conroy, who didn’t return the smile. He wasn’t exactly a warm man. But he would only be her butler for a year. Who cares if he liked her? She followed his eyes when he pointed to an unfamiliar face in the portrait. She knew little about the Winslow name. “But my grandfather was self-made. He grew up on the wrong side of South Boston. Why did he commission these? It makes it seem like the Winslows had generations of wealth and influence.”