“If you say so.” Ben watched in the mirror as Max worked on the tie. “Where'd you learn to do this?”
“Jason taught me.”
Old memories swept through Max as he finished the bow and adjusted the points of Ben's collar. Twelve years ago he had been as dubious about the whole process of wearing a tux as Ben was today. Jason had tied the tie for him and had even had to show him how to wear the cuff links.
There was something satisfying about handing on the manly art of dressing for a formal occasion to another young man who was just as rough and unsophisticated as he had once been, Max thought.
“There, that does it. Let's take a look.” He stepped back to survey his work. “Perfect. You look like you've been wearing tuxes for years.”
Ben studied himself in the mirror. A pleased expression gleamed in his eyes. He straightened his shoulders. “I look older or something, don't I?”
“Cool,” Sammy proclaimed. “You look cool, Ben.”
“Yeah, I do, don't I?” Ben tugged on the jacket of the tuxedo.
“Just like Max,” Sammy said. He picked up Lucky Ducky and tucked the plastic duck under his arm.
“So, I guess we're ready, huh?” Ben turned away from the mirror. There was a slight but definite swagger in his step.
Sammy was instantly alarmed. “We can't go anywhere until O'Reilly gets here.”
“We'll wait for O'Reilly,” Max assured him. “Go to the window and keep an eye out for him, Sammy.”
“Okay.” Sammy raced for the window.
Max looked at Ben. “There's one more thing we've got to take care of before we leave for Cosmic Harmony.” Max reached into the pocket of his jacket and drew out an airline ticket folder.
“What's that?” Ben asked, momentarily distracted.
“Your honeymoon trip.” Max opened the lapel of Ben's jacket and stuffed the ticket folder into the inside pocket. “You're going to Hawaii for a week. It's a gift from the family.”
Ben's jaw dropped. “Hawaii. I thought me and Trisha were going to Seattle.”
“There's been a change in plans. You're driving to Seattle this afternoon, but instead of checking into a hotel downtown, you're going to the airport.” Max's mouth curved. “You'll stay the night at a hotel there. Your plane leaves at seven tomorrow morning.”
“Hawaii.” Ben looked dazed. “But we can't afford to go to Hawaii.”
“Like I said, it's a gift from the family.” Max briefly checked his own reflection in the mirror and tweaked the bow of his tie. “Now pay attention, Ben. When you reach Honolulu, there will be a limo waiting. The driver will have a card that has your name on it.”
“A limo. Holy shit. Trisha won't believe this.”
“It's all been paid for in advance. You don't even tip the driver, got that?”
“Yeah, sure. No tip.”
“The limo will take you to the Curzon Paradise. It's right on the beach. You'll have one of the honeymoon suites.”
“A honeymoon suite?” Ben was clearly over-whelmed. “But that must cost a bundle.”
It did, Max reflected, but he had no intention of telling Ben that. “The manager of the hotel is a friend of mine,” he said easily. “He owes me a favor.” What he owed Max was his job, but that was not important. In any event, Max was paying full price for the suite. Now that he was no longer working for Curzon, he wanted no favors from the corporation. “You sign for everything, got that?”
“Everything?”
“The hotel bill, the meals you eat in the hotel, the snorkeling equipment, and the Hawaiian dress you're going to buy for Trisha. Everything.”
“Damn, I can't hardly believe this,” Ben said. “Does Trisha know?”
Max smiled and slowly shook his head. “No. You'll get to tell her all about it on the way to the airport this afternoon.”
“She's gonna freak,” Ben said. “She's gonna be so happy.”
“That's the whole point,” Max said.
“Shit, Max. This is something else.” Ben stared at him. “I don't know how to thank you.”
“I told you this was a gift from the family, not just me. And if you want to thank us you can do it by taking good care of Trisha and the baby.”
“I will,” Ben vowed.
“And by getting back here as soon as the honeymoon's over, so that you can rescue me from whatever home repair disaster I happen to be involved in at the time.”
Ben grinned. “Don't worry, I'm not gonna abandon you to the plumbing. Hot damn, this is too much. Hawaii. Man, I hope I don't screw up at the airport or make a fool out of myself in that fancy hotel.”
Max put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, my friend, I am going to give you some words of wisdom that I want you to remember for the rest of your life.”
Ben sobered and looked at Max with an intent expression. “I'm listening.”
“It is okay to screw up once in a while,” Max said. “Got that?”
“Yeah.” Ben started to grin again, but his eyes stayed serious for a moment longer. “I think I can remember that.”
“He's here, he's here!” Sammy shouted. “I see O'Reilly! He's just getting out of his car.”
“Wearing his green suit?” Max asked.
“Nope. He's got a tux on, just like us. And he's carrying a big present all wrapped in shiny paper.”
“We're all set, then,” Max said. “Let's go.” He picked up his black jacket and shrugged into it. Then he turned to take one last look at Ben and Sammy. He smiled slightly. “We're going to wow the ladies, my friends.”
Ben and Sammy exchanged grins.
O'Reilly was pacing back and forth in the lobby and glancing nervously at his watch when Max, Ben, and Sammy arrived downstairs a few minutes later. George, who had come in early to cover the office while the family went to the wedding, smiled.
“What kept you?” Max asked O'Reilly.
“Tell you later,” O'Reilly said quietly.
“Hi, O'Reilly.” Sammy ran up to O'Reilly and stopped short right in front of him. “I was afraid you weren't coming.”
O'Reilly went down on his haunches in front of Sammy. He grinned. “I told you I'd be here, didn't I?”
“Uh-huh.” Sammy's eyes reflected his enormous relief. “Ben said maybe your car broke or something.”
“Nope, I just had some business to take care of. Hey, let me look at you, kid. Aren't you all spiffed up? I can see Max has been at work. He's the only guy I know who actually knows how to tie a bow tie. Mine is pretied.”
“Max says I have to look good on account of I'm supposed to guard the rings,” Sammy explained.
“A very important job,” O'Reilly said. He got to his feet and nodded at Ben. “So this is the big day. You ready?”
“Ready as I'll ever be,” Ben said, but his eyes were eager. “The family is sending me and Trisha to Hawaii. Can you believe it?”
O'Reilly slanted a glance at Max. “Yeah, I can believe it.” He handed his gift to Ben. “This is for you and Trisha.”
“Hey, thanks.” Ben gave the package to George. “Put this with the others, okay? Trisha says we'll open the presents when we get back.”
“Will do,” George said. He stashed the gift behind the desk. Then he regarded Ben with approval from beneath his bushy brows. “Best of luck to you, Ben.”
“Yeah, well thanks.” Ben looked at Max. “I guess this is it, huh?”
“This is it.” Max took one last assessing look at his charges. He frowned briefly when he saw that Sammy had a smudge on the tip of his nose. “How did you get that?” he asked as he grabbed a tissue from the box behind the front desk.
“I dunno.” Sammy stood still while Max rubbed off the smudge. “Maybe from Lucky Ducky.”
“Right. I should have known.” Max tossed the tissue into a small trash can behind the desk. “Everyone in the car.”
Sammy raced out the front door. Ben followed at a slightly slower but no less enthusiastic pace.
Max waited unt
il they were out of earshot before he looked at O'Reilly. “How serious?”
“I wish to hell I knew the answer to that,” O'Reilly said. “I'll give you the whole story later. In the meantime, I don't think Cleo should be left alone for even a few minutes.”
Max's insides froze. “Christ, O'Reilly, you can't just drop that on me and then say you'll tell me the rest later.”
“It's a long story. I don't want to talk about it in front of Ben and Sammy.”
“It has something to do with the death of her parents, doesn't it?”
“Maybe. I just don't have all the answers yet, Max. I'm sorry.”
“Goddamn it to hell.” Max took a savage grip on his cane and went toward the Jaguar.
“Would you believe this is the first wedding I've been to since my own?” O'Reilly asked an hour and a half later as he stood with Max near the buffet table.
“That's two more weddings than I've attended.” Max bit into an exquisite salmon canapé that he had just plucked from the table.
“Could have fooled me,” O'Reilly said. “You looked like you knew just what you were doing when you took up the position of best man.”
“It's the clothes.” Max swallowed the canapé. “A man who wears the right clothes for the job always looks like he knows what he's doing, and that's half the battle.”
“That sounds like one of Jason Curzon's bits of wisdom.”
“It is.”
Max scanned the crowd, searching for Cleo. She stood with a group that included a number of towns-people as well as Andromeda and Daystar. Cleo's hair was swept up in a chignon that was more tightly secured than the usual careless knot she wore. The style was decorated with a row of yellow roses that were a beautiful contrast to the deep red highlights in her dark mane.
She looked achingly feminine in her low-necked, tight-waisted yellow gown, Max thought. But, then, the sight of her always made him ache. He wondered if the need for her would ever diminish. He doubted it. He suspected it would only intensify over the years.
The women of Cosmic Harmony had turned the graceful old resort lodge into a fantasy extravaganza done in yellow and white. All the stops had been pulled out for the wedding. In the center of the room a glowing Trisha, dressed in a floor-length creamy white gown and a tiny hat and veil, stood near Ben. Ben looked as if he had just been crowned king of the world. He caught Max's eye and grinned.
Sammy was dashing here and there in the crowd and helping himself to everything that looked like it contained sugar.
“The kid's going to be overstimulated tonight,” O'Reilly observed. “Where the hell do they get so much energy at that age?”
Max turned his head at the wistful tone in O'Reilly's voice. “Damned if I know. Let's have the whole story, O'Reilly. Take it from the top.”
O'Reilly stuffed a canapé into his mouth. “I took a second look at everything I could find that dealt with the death of Cleo's parents. She's been right about one thing all along; her father wasn't the kind who suddenly ups and shoots his wife and then himself.”
“That's what everyone always says after it happens. He seemed like such a nice man.”
“Yeah, I know, but in this case, Cleo has a point. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Robbins had a history of violent outbursts. Neither appeared to suffer from depression or suicidal tendencies. There had been no recent financial reverses for them. Neither had been diagnosed with a fatal illness.”
“In other words, no obvious motivating factors.” Max watched Cleo. “No wonder she hasn't been able to buy the story the authorities gave her. She knew them too well to believe it.”
O'Reilly scowled thoughtfully. “I think there's a real possibility that there was something else going on, and when Eberson started looking into the situation, he triggered a response.”
“From someone who did not want the situation investigated?”
“Yeah. Maybe. I just don't know yet, Max.”
“Had Robbins recently fired someone who might have been crazy enough to murder him in retaliation?”
O'Reilly shrugged. “He was a businessman, owned a good-sized electronics firm. He had fired a few people over the years. Part of the job. But I couldn't find any evidence to indicate that any of them were deranged or had made threats. The police probably checked that angle at the time, too.”
“Anything else?”
“The only other thing I turned up was that Robbins had testified for the prosecution at a murder trial two years before he was killed. I don't know if there was any connection, but I do know that the guy was convicted and sent to prison.”
“A long shot.”
“I know, but it's all I've got at the moment.” O'Reilly glanced at the buffet table. A strange expression lit his eyes. “What the hell is that thing floating in the punch bowl?”
Max followed his gaze. “That's Lucky Ducky. He can swim anywhere. You wouldn't believe some of the places he turns up.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. I suppose I'd better get the duck out of the punch before someone notices.” Max started toward the large crystal bowl.
“Max?” Cleo called.
He stopped and turned around. “Right here, Cleo.”
“Oh, there you are.” Cleo emerged from the crowd looking cheerfully harried. “I've been looking all over for you and O'Reilly. The photographer is ready to take the next batch of pictures. Come on, let's go before Sammy runs off again.”
“Photos?” Max looked at her, bemused. “Of O'Reilly and me?”
“Of course. And the rest of us, too.” Cleo smiled brilliantly as she took his hand. “The photographer has finished the portraits of the wedding couple. We're ready to do the family photos now.”
“Family photos?” Max looked at O'Reilly.
“Don't mind him,” O'Reilly said to Cleo. “Max isn't used to being included in pictures of a family.”
“Well, he'd better get used to it,” Cleo said dryly. “Daystar is thinking about taking up photography as a hobby.”
“You sure you want me in the shot?” O'Reilly asked.
“Sammy and Sylvia insisted,” Cleo said.
“Yeah?” O'Reilly looked inordinately pleased.
“Yeah,” Cleo said. She grinned.
Ten minutes later Max found himself standing together with Cleo, Andromeda, Daystar, Sylvia, O'Reilly, and Sammy. They formed a tight, warm circle around Ben and Trisha.
“Big smiles, everyone,” the photographer ordered unnecessarily.
“Wait,” Sammy yelped. “I forgot Lucky Ducky.”
“He's in the punch bowl,” Max said. “You stay here. I'll get him.”
A short while later the photographer finally snapped the picture. The family portrait was complete with a rubber duck.
Chapter
18
I trust you have my usual room ready for me, Ms. Robbins?” Herbert T. Valence asked brusquely as he filled out the registration slip in his precise handwriting. “I don't care to be shifted around from room to room.”
“Yes, I know, Mr. Valence. Two-ten is ready for you.” Cleo maintained her best professional smile as she handed the key to Valence. “And you may use the parlor for your seminars, just as you have in the past.”
Valence clicked his pen five times before replacing it neatly in his jacket pocket. “I hope there won't be any problems with the electricity this time.”
“Let's keep our fingers crossed that we won't get any severe storms this weekend,” Cleo said with determined cheeriness.
“I don't believe in luck,” Valence said. “I've already checked the forecast, and it's supposed to be clear most of the weekend.”
“Wonderful. Well, it looks like you've got a nice crowd this time. We've checked in fifteen people who say they're here for your workshop.”
“Fifteen is the ideal number of people for my seminar. I can't guarantee results if I'm forced to deal with a larger crowd. And I am known for getting results. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”
Valence frowned as he turned away from the desk. “I am not here to enjoy myself, Ms. Robbins. I am here to conduct business.”
Cleo wrinkled her nose at his back as he walked briskly toward the stairs. “You know something, Sylvia? I think Mr. Valence is getting worse. He seems awfully tense tonight.”
Sylvia stuck her head out of the office and smiled. “Think of the money.”
“I know. Maybe he's just overmotivated. Does it strike you that Max and Herbert T. Valence have something in common?”
“Like what?”
“A reputation.”
Sylvia chuckled. “You've got a point. But there's a big difference between Max and Herbert T.”
“What's that?”
“You love one, and you're not particularly fond of the other.”
Cleo froze. Then she spun around. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. You love Max.”
Cleo looked at her anxiously. “Is it that obvious?”
“You've given him everything he wanted, including yourself. You're a generous woman, Cleo, but you've never been that generous with any other man. You've always protected yourself on some level. Except with Max.”
“I knew he was different the minute I saw him. He was the man in the mirror,” Cleo whispered. “The one in my book.”
“I had a hunch that was exactly who he was.”
Cleo ran her fingertips along the polished edge of the front desk. “I've become part of his collection.”
“Fair's fair, isn't it? You've made Max a part of your family.”
Cleo hesitated. “I'll tell you something I haven't told anyone else. Sometimes I'm a little afraid, Sylvia.”
“Afraid of Max? I don't believe it. You can trust Max with your life, and you know it.”
“That's not what I mean.” Cleo gripped the edge of the desk. “I'm afraid that he won't let himself love me. He knows how to go after what he wants, and he knows how to hang on to it. But he's been protecting himself for a lot longer than I've been protecting myself. He's got it down to an art. You should pardon the expression.”
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