“Bob, you simply have to consider the Primrose for your managers’ retreat in the fall.” Elaine tapped her husband on the arm.
“Why, you’re absolutely right, Elaine.” He nodded. “It would be perfect. Assuming that we could use that big room out front”—he gestured toward the front parlor—“for a group meeting?”
“I’m sure we could accommodate you,” Abby replied as she removed dishes to the kitchen. Listen to me. As if I’ll be in business come the fall.
“So, tell us, when is the big day?” Sue asked, accepting a cup of freshly brewed coffee from Abby’s hands.
“The big day?” Abby frowned.
“The last weekend in June,” Alex told them. “Abby’s mother was a June bride… right out there under that very rose arbor, wasn’t it, Ab?”
“Yes.” Abby eyed him warily. What kind of game was he playing?
“So I thought it would be special if we did the same thing.” He set the tray he was holding on the end of the sideboard and waited for her to react.
“And you’ll continue to run the inn after you’re married?” Jeff Turner asked Abby.
She found she could not respond. She was too focused on fighting off the urge to strangle him for inventing this fantasy merely for the sake of these strangers. Particularly when the fantasy so closely resembled the dream she had sheltered for so long. How dare he stand there so calmly spouting such bald-faced lies when… Abby’s heated brain caught up with Alex’s latest pronouncement. She turned on him fiercely, ready to blow the whistle on the charade, when she realized he was speaking directly to her, his words flowing softly to her alone, as if the others had faded somehow from the room.
“…but I will be moving my law practice here to Primrose as soon as I wrap up the case I’ve been working on,” Alex was saying as he lifted a cup to fill it with coffee, his eyes still holding hers across the room. “I’m thinking I might renovate part of the carriage house to use as my office.”
Her shaking hands set the clattering cup upon the table. This was no charade.
“Good evening.” A smiling, congenial Belle—oblivious to the fact that she was abruptly breaking the spell her grandson sought to cast upon his beloved—appeared in the doorway, dressed outlandishly in a long skirt of purple, God only knew its genesis, and a multicolored shawl flung about her shoulders, incongruously draped over her prim little white blouse.
What in the world?
“Good evening,” the guests all murmured somewhat uncertainly.
“This is my grandmother, Belle Matthews.” Alex, too, was taken off guard.
“Now,” Belle asked brightly, her dancing eyes clear evidence that she was enjoying her self-appointed role as the evening’s entertainment, “who’d like to have their tea leaves read?”
A long silence followed, before Alex told her gently, “Gran, everyone had coffee.”
“Oh, dear.” She frowned, clearly disappointed that her efforts to make a contribution to the action were thwarted even as she was beginning to get into character.
“But I’d be happy to bring you some tea, Belle,” Abby offered, “and perhaps you could sit with our guests and chat for a few minutes.”
Abby turned toward the dinner table. “Belle has lived in Primrose all her life. I’m sure she would be happy to tell you anything you’d like to know about the town. Primrose, for example, was a stop on the Underground Railroad. As a matter of fact, this house and the one directly across the street, which was built by the family of Belle’s late husband, were part of the network.”
“Really? This very house?” Jeff Turner brightened. “That’s music to the ears of a history buff like me.”
“Oh, Primrose has a very rich history, as one might suspect from so old a community,” Belle said as she draped the awful shawl—where had she found that?—over the back of her chair. “Why, this house alone has seen so much. Now, the original section of this house was built, I seem to recall, in 1790 or thereabouts. Of course, it was added onto over the years…”
Belle’s voice trailed off as the kitchen door swung behind Abby, who ran the water for Belle’s tea.
“I’d say everything is going just right,” Alex announced in a whisper as he hugged Abby from behind. “Now, aren’t you glad I… uh-oh…” He studied the look on Abby’s face as she turned around.
“I think you have some explaining to do.”
“Don’t you want a June wedding, Ab? In the garden? By the arbor?”
“Alex…”
“I apologize for not properly asking you before I announced it to everyone else. I admit that was a little tacky.” He pulled a hand through the hair that had slid onto his forehead. “But it just all seems so right, Ab. You said once that maybe you’d start your own business. I kept thinking about Sunny’s suggestion. What’s wrong with this as a business? You’re a natural, and the house is perfect. Why go all the way to Dallas when everything you need is right here?”
“I admit the idea of turning the house into an inn has intrigued me since Sunny first suggested it. And I admit it could probably even be fun… although I do think we should do a little more homework before we hang out a sign. I mean, if the Board of Health finds out that we are running a restaurant without the proper inspections and permits…”
He laughed good-naturedly, sensing she was mere seconds away from telling him everything he wanted to hear. “I apologize for springing this all on you, but once I caught that fish and the Conroys showed up, it just all seemed so clear to me. And I really believed you’d love the idea of a B&B, once you gave it a try.”
“Well, I admit that the thought of leaving Primrose, now that it’s really a possibility, is making me ill. All this time, finding a job on the same level as the one I lost seemed so important to me. That’s what I thought was me. Now that it’s a reality, I’m not so sure. I just don’t think I’m the same person who left Philadelphia back in the fall. I’m not so sure that I want to be—that I can be—that person again. I love this house, and I love this town. I love Belle, and I love Naomi. I’ve never had a friend like her, and I never will again. The thought of leaving and not having her in my daily life…” Abby began to sniffle.
“What about me?” Alex asked.
Abby burst into tears.
“You love me, don’t you, Ab?” he asked softly.
“More than anything in this life,” she sobbed.
“Don’t you want to marry me?”
“It’s all I ever wanted.” She tried unsuccessfully to stem the flood of tears. “But look what you’d be giving up to move here. Big, high-profile cases, hefty fees…”
“So what?” He shrugged it off. “Abby, you’re not the only one who’s reevaluated things since coming back to Primrose. Being here has helped me put my feet back on the ground and brought the important things into a finer perspective. Things I thought I’d lost long ago, I’ve found again. I don’t want to lose them for the sake of doing hack work for clients I don’t really care about. I want to know the people I represent and care about whether I win for their sake, not for mine. I want to come home every night to the woman I love. Maybe sneak away from the kids every once in a while and steal on out to the carriage house. Maybe a little dance in the moonlight or a midnight swim from time to time.”
“Do you love me that much? To give up everything else?”
“There is nothing else, Abby. Just you. I hadn’t realized just how much was missing from my life until you came back into it. I can’t let you go a second time. I need you too much.” He paused before adding, “You do need me, too, don’t you, Ab?”
“Yes, I need you.”
“And you love me, too, don’t you?”
“Yes, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else.”
“Then what’s stopping you from saying, ‘Why, yes, Alex, I will marry you. And, thank you, a June wedding in the rose arbor would be absolutely perfect.’ ”
“Yes, Alex, I will marry you,” she recited softly. “And, thank yo
u, a June wedding in the rose arbor would be…” Her words disappeared into his mouth which descended upon hers like a hungry hawk.
Her hands, which had moments earlier tugged gently on the points of his shirt collar, now held the sides of his face to hers, and she half laughed, half cried as he set her up on the wet counter where the just-rinsed dishes were stacked.
“And I trust that first thing Monday, you will call the headhunter in Dallas and tell her you’ve had a better offer right here in Primrose.” He kissed her throat and behind her left ear.
“The best offer I ever had,” she agreed, sniffing back the tears that had begun to roll down her cheeks in furious streams.
“Ab, we will be so happy, you’ll see,” he vowed, holding her chin in his hand.
A shrill scream from the morning room broke the spell.
The couple cuddling in the kitchen making their wedding plans exchanged a look of alarm. Abby jumped down from the counter and followed Alex down the short hall to the morning room.
“Over against the wall with the others.” The young blond woman waved the pistol, gesturing for Abby and Alex to join the group in front of the fireplace wall.
The paneled wainscot stood open to the tunnel, a gaping dark blemish on the newly painted wall.
“What in the name of God?” Alex exhaled, stopping dead in his tracks inside the morning-room door.
“I’m sorry, Alexander,” Belle said shakily. “I’m afraid it’s my fault. The guests wanted to see the secret passage, and when I pushed in the cornerstone, the wall opened, and out she came.”
“I’m not kidding. Mr. Kane. I said move,” she said coolly.
“Cerise?” Abby peered closely at the young woman.
“Who is Cerise?” Alex asked.
“Tillman’s secretary.”
“Who is Tillman?” Bob Conroy asked.
“Aunt Leila’s attorney.”
“Who is Aunt Leila?” asked Elaine.
“Shut up, all of you!” Cerise yelled. “This is not a ‘Moonlighting’ rerun.”
“All right, Cerise. What do you want?” Abby decided calm and direct was the way to go.
“I want the pearls.”
“What pearls?” Abby frowned. “Aunt Leila sold her pearls to pay for new kitchen appliances.”
“Not those pearls, stupid.” Cerise rolled her eyes. “The Tears of the Maiden.”
“Who’s the maiden?” Alex asked.
“Cerise, that was a kids’ book.” Abby sighed, ignoring Alex in her efforts to get Cerise to leave before someone got hurt. “Thomas made it up. Those pearls do not exist.”
“Oh, but they do,” the woman replied, and, sticking her left hand into the pocket of her tan jacket, she withdrew a luminescent orb the size of a fat man’s thumb.
The only sound in the room was that of the entire gathering sucking in its collective breath.
“Where did you get that?” Abby asked, as wide-eyed and dazzled as all the others.
“In a little hidden compartment in Thomas Cassidy’s desk,” she told them with a perverse sort of pride. “And now I want the rest of them.”
“Cerise, this is silly.” Abby shook her head. “No one knows where those pearls are, if, in fact, there are more.”
“I do,” Belle said evenly.
Seven heads swiveled to gaze upon the old woman.
“You do?” Abby gasped.
“Of course, I do.” Belle straightened up importantly.
“Belle, if you knew where those pearls were, why didn’t you tell me?” Abby asked, dumbfounded.
“Because I was afraid that if you had that much money, it wouldn’t have mattered how much you could get for this house. You’d just have sold everything off right away and taken the money and left.” The old woman’s chin rose slightly. “And where would that have left me, I ask you? In a smelly old nursing home someplace, that’s where!”
“Then why didn’t you take the pearls and sell them? You would have had enough money to hire someone to live in with you.”
“Because they weren’t mine.” Belle was indignant at the very thought.
“Okay, enough of this nonsense.” Cerise waved the gun. “Where are the pearls?”
“They’re…” Belle began.
“Don’t, Belle,” a voice spoke from the opening in the wall.
Drew Cassidy emerged from the tunnel, draped in cobwebs. “Cerise, what are you doing?”
“I am doing what I thought I could get you to do,” Cerise fairly spat at him, “before you went stupid on me.”
“Is that a real gun?” Drew asked.
“Of course, it’s a real gun.” Cerise popped her gum.
“Give it to me.” He motioned to her calmly.
“Not on your life.” She shook her head.
“Cerise, this is foolish.” Drew tried to reason with her.
“You have the nerve to call me foolish?” Cerise’s overly shadowed eyes widened. “I’ll tell you what’s foolish. Foolish is walking away from a fortune. You could have found it, Drew. She”—Cerise waved the gun in Abby’s direction— “never would have known. It was the damned birthday party that did it, wasn’t it? You weren’t the same after that. One bloody birthday cake, and the whole scam’s off? I don’t think so.”
“Is that true, Drew?” Abby asked quietly. “Was it all a scam?”
“Well, I hate to admit it, but at the very beginning, before I met you, I was intrigued by Cerise’s plan.” He was having trouble meeting her gaze.
“Which was?”
“To find whatever it was that Thomas had found on his trips, and to steal it,” he said simply. “I’m sorry, Abby. I thought I had talked her out of it.”
“Where did you meet up with her?” Alex frowned, nodding in the direction of the woman with the gun.
“It’s a long story.” Drew sighed.
“One we don’t have time to listen to,” Cerise snapped impatiently. “Mrs. Matthews, go get the pearls, and bring them back here. You have one minute. If you’re not back, I’ll…” She looked about the room wildly looking for a likely “or else.” “…I’ll shoot him.” She waved the gun at Alex.
“A minute is not a very generous amount of time”— Belle shook a finger at Cerise—“for a woman of my age.”
“Just do it.” Cerise was clearly becoming nervous and agitated. Abby hoped the stress wouldn’t make her trigger finger twitch.
“I do not know how to apologize to you for this.” A distressed Abby turned to her paying guests. Oddly, they appeared to be relaxed and smiling. “Nothing like this ever happens around here…”
Bob Conroy held up a hand to cut her off. “Well, we’re certainly frightened, but we’ll do as she says.” He winked.
Abby stared at Bob as if he was crazed.
“Alexander, you’ll have to help me to take this apart,” Belle muttered from the doorway. In her hand, she held the framed picture of Leila that had stood on Thomas’s desk.
“Give me that,” Cerise lunged toward Belle for the frame.
In a heartbeat, a swirling mass of dark fur dashed out and sank its teeth into Cerise’s ankle.
“Ow!” she shrieked, looking down for a split second. Drew stepped behind her and grabbed her wrist, knocking the small pistol to the floor.
“Oh,” Bob said gallantly as he picked it up, “allow me.”
“Alex, give Colin a call.” Drew led Cerise to a chair and plunked her down.
“I already did that,” Belle announced, “when I went into the study.”
“Good thinking, Gran.” Alex kissed the top of the old woman’s head and led her to a chair. “Are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m okay, Alexander.” Belle sniffed. “What do you take me for?”
“Gran, all the excitement…”
“Pooh.” She dismissed him as if insulted by the suggestion, while at the same time grateful to give her quaking her legs a rest as she turned her attention to her little dog. She patted her lap, and the dog clim
bed aboard as if taking the place of honor at an awards banquet. “Alexander, get Meri a Milk Bone. She deserves a reward for saving the day.”
Abby turned toward the Turners and the Conroys, holding out her hands helplessly. What do you say after the guests in your establishment have been held at gunpoint for twenty minutes?
“Well, what do you think, Elaine?” Bob said. “Wasn’t that one of the better performances we’ve seen lately?”
“Performance?” Abby repeated dumbly.
“We go to these types of things all the time. Solve-the-murder dinners. Mystery weekends. Alex didn’t mention that you folks would have something, but hey, that only added to the fun,” Bob assured her.
“I’ll say.” Sue Turner laughed. “But, to tell you the truth, I can’t remember seeing anyone make the entrance she did. Just for a split second, one might have thought it was real.”
“The timing was too perfect. Gave it away.” Jeff Turner turned to Abby and whispered, “Just a little advice? Next time, she shouldn’t come out of the wall so quickly.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Abby nodded.
“So, what time’s breakfast?” Bob paused in the doorway.
“Ah… eight-thirty,” Abby replied, trying to decide which had surprised her more, Cerise’s appearance with the gun or the realization that her guests thought it was the evening’s entertainment.
“Perfect.” He saluted her as he ushered his wife and the Turners into the hallway.
“By the way.” Jeff stuck his head back through the doorway. “What was the signal for the dog?”
“What?” Abby turned to him, still in a bit of a daze.
“I didn’t see anyone signal the dog. Pretty clever, whatever it was.” He smiled brightly.
“Thanks.”
“And, hey.” Bob laughed. “The police officer is a nice touch. Adds authenticity. But you’re too late.” He patted Colin on the back as they passed in the hallway. “It’s all over, and we already figured it out.”
“Glad to hear it.” Colin nodded thoughtfully, then asked Abby, “What the hell was that all about?”
“You wouldn’t believe it.” She shook her head and slumped onto the love seat.
“Cerise, Cerise, Cerise.” Colin gently helped the woman to her feet and folded her arms behind her back. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
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