by Metsy Hingle
“It would be such a lovely way to showcase the importance of St. Ann’s and to be able to use you as an example of one of its success stories,” Mrs. St. Amant continued. “Why, maybe you could even attend the benefit and speak to the guests, tell them about growing up at St. Ann’s. Think how inspirational that would be.”
Kelly balked at the suggestion. “I’ll be happy to donate some photographs for the auction, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to attend the benefit.”
“Of course, having you there would be the ideal situation,” Mrs. Callaghan said quickly. “But Mildred and I understand if you have other commitments. We’re just very grateful for your generosity. I know Sister Grace would be, too.”
For the next several minutes, Kelly chatted with the pair about the benefit. And when Peter Callaghan came over and asked to see her for a moment, Kelly could have wept with joy.
“You looked like you needed rescuing,” Peter whispered as he steered her away.
“I could kiss you.”
“I’ve no objections, but something tells me my brother might,” he said and before she could comment, he snagged a glass of white wine from a passing tray and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she said, and took a sip of the wine. “Did I really look that desperate to escape?”
“Yes.”
Kelly squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “Perhaps I should apologize to your mother.”
Peter laughed. “What for? I’m guessing she and that old biddy either talked you into buying some outrageously priced tickets for a charity event or got you to promise to sit on some organization’s board. Am I right?”
“Close. I’m donating photos from one of my collections for a silent auction.”
“Figures. My mother’s a champ fund-raiser for good causes. She goes for the jugular before you even realize it.”
“She wasn’t that bad,” Kelly argued. “And I’m happy to donate the photographs since the money goes to St. Ann’s.”
“That’s nice of you, Kelly,” he said, a softness in his voice.
She liked Peter Callaghan. He was handsome, kind, compassionate. She was comfortable with him and he didn’t make her heart race when he touched her—not the way his brother did. So if she had to be attracted to a man, why not him? Why Jack?
“You got all the boxes and the painting I sent to your hotel?”
“Yes. Thanks again for having them sent over,” she told him.
“Since you had me send those things to you at the hotel, I take it you’re planning to stick around New Orleans for a while?”
“Yes,” she said. And she’d been so caught up in trying to find out who might have killed Sister Grace that she hadn’t given much thought to her living arrangements—or to the fact that she was racking up some serious hotel charges that might go on for some time. While she wasn’t a pauper, she certainly didn’t believe in throwing away her money. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who’d be willing to lease me a place on a short-term basis, would you?”
“How short term?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe a couple of months.” However long it took for her to find the person responsible for Sister Grace’s death.
“I can’t think of anyone offhand. But there’s a woman here at the party, Alicia Van Owen. She’s a friend of the family. She’s in real estate, both residential and commercial. She might know of something. I’ll see if I can hook you up with her before the evening’s over.”
“There’s no hurry,” Kelly said, not at all sure how she’d feel about being hooked up with the woman she suspected had been, and might still be, Jack’s lover. “I’ll just get her number from you later.”
“Whatever you say,” he replied, and took a sip from his glass. “Jack mentioned you were some kind of witness in one of his cases. I hope that’s not the reason you’ve decided to stay on in New Orleans.”
“No. It’s something personal.” And before he assumed she was referring to his brother, she added, “Something that concerns Sister Grace.”
“Nothing related to her will, I hope.”
She shook her head. “No. Just some things that I’d like to look into.” She waited a moment, then asked, “Did you happen to see her before she died?”
“If you’re asking if she came to the office to see me in my capacity as an attorney, the answer’s no. But my mother saw her every few weeks or so. Have you spoken to her?”
“Yes.” Disappointed, Kelly hadn’t realized how much she’d been hoping that Sister Grace had gone to see Peter and had confided in him about the woman who had been with her in the chapel.
“Whatever this is, it’s really worrying you, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Anything I can do to help? I’m a good listener and as you’ll recall a brilliant attorney.”
Kelly smiled. “Thanks, but legal help isn’t what I need. I need to find some answers.”
“Answers to what?”
“I’d rather not say yet,” she said.
Peter grew somber. “I don’t know what this is about, Kelly. But I recommend you don’t go poking around on your own. Maybe you should talk to Jack. He is a cop, after all.”
“I don’t want the police involved—at least not yet.”
“Then maybe you should consider a private investigator. I can recommend one if you’d like.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Give me a call at my office tomorrow, then. I’ll put you in touch with someone who’s good, reliable and won’t cost you an arm and a leg.”
“Thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”
“Glad to help. Uh-oh,” he said, his attention shifting to something or someone across the room.
“What is it?”
“Looks like my mother and a couple of her cohorts have got Jack cornered and he’s shooting me dirty looks.”
Kelly followed the direction of Peter’s gaze. And sure enough, Jack was indeed surrounded by his mother, Mrs. St. Amant and two other women.
“I’m not sure if he’s glaring at me because he’s stuck, or if it’s because I’m talking to you.” Amusement danced in his blue eyes. “I guess I’ll be a nice guy and see if I can spring him. Will you excuse me?”
“Of course,” she said. And once Peter had left her, Kelly put down her wineglass. Her cheeks ached from all the smiling she’d done that evening. And her feet were absolutely killing her. Sighing, she wiggled her toes inside the high heels and wondered what on earth had possessed her to even buy the things.
“I’m convinced that it must have been a man who invented high heels,” a friendly female voice said from behind her, and when Kelly turned she recognized the stunning blonde as Alicia Van Owen. “Only a man would come up with something that would be pure torture to wear.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’ve also discovered that the prettier the shoes, the more uncomfortable they are. And since those are absolutely gorgeous, I’m guessing that they’re murder on your feet. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Kelly admitted.
Alicia leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Between us girls, I think that was the whole idea behind high heels to begin with. My theory is that some man with a foot fetish was looking for a way to get the ladies out of their shoes and came up with high heels. What do you think?”
“I think you could be on to something,” Kelly said, and laughed as she suspected she was meant to do.
“We haven’t been introduced yet. I’m Alicia Van Owen,” she said, and held out her hand.
“Kelly Santos.”
“Ah, so you’re Meredith’s friend.”
“Yes, I am,” Kelly said, somewhat surprised that the woman would know who she was.
As though she could read her thoughts, Alicia laughed again, a charming musical sound, and said, “I had dinner with the Callaghans last week and your name was mentioned. I understand that you and Meredith attended schoo
l together.”
“That’s right.”
“Listen, I’ll confess. My feet are killing me, too. Why don’t we go sit over there for a bit?” she asked, pointing to the settee grouping in the corner.
Although Kelly hadn’t relished the idea of making small talk with the woman, she reminded herself that she’d come to the party for information, so she followed Alicia. After all, she reasoned, who better to provide an inside track into people’s lives than the person who sold them their homes? She took the seat opposite Alicia. “I understand that you’re in real estate,” Kelly began.
“Why, yes, I am,” Alicia said, a hint of surprise in her voice.
“I mentioned to Peter that I might be staying in New Orleans for a while and he recommended I speak with you.”
“I’ll have to thank Peter,” she said. “So, are you looking to buy or lease?”
“Lease, but short term. Maybe only a couple of weeks, possibly a month or two. But you’re not here to discuss business,” Kelly said, wanting to change the subject and avoid a hard-sell pitch. Although she didn’t seem the hard-sell type, Kelly admitted. No, Alicia Van Owen struck her as one of those golden people for whom everything in life came easy. And the moment the uncharitable thought popped in her head, Kelly regretted it.
“Actually, I hardly consider it work. I love matching people with places.”
“You’re obviously very good at it. Jack told me that you found him his house,” Kelly remarked.
“True. But it was more a case of blind luck. I went to look at the house for another client, but the moment I set eyes on it I knew it would be perfect for Jack. Have you seen it yet?”
The offhand tone and friendly smile might have fooled most people, but it didn’t fool Kelly. Alicia Van Owen was fishing for information. So was she. The difference was, Alicia had sized her up as a romantic rival for Jack and wanted information about their relationship, while she was seeking information that could help her find Sister Grace’s killer. “Yes as a matter of fact, I have. And you’re right, it does suit him.” Deciding to dive in, Kelly said, “I imagine you meet a lot of people in your line of work. Why, I bet you could write a book about what goes on in people’s homes—the parties, the problems, their lives in general.”
“Well, I do care about my clients, but I try not to pry into their personal lives,” Alicia said. “Of course, there are special ones like the Callaghans. But then I don’t have to tell you how special they are. That’s why I was so pleased to be able to help Jack get his place. And he’s done such a fabulous job fixing it up. Don’t you think?”
Jack again. Kelly bit back a frown. “I’ll have to take your word for it since I didn’t see the before version.”
“Whoops! I’ve made you uncomfortable talking about Jack, haven’t I?” And before Kelly could deny the charge, Alicia reached over, patted her hand. “There’s no need to be, you know. Jack and I ended our relationship a while back.”
“That really doesn’t concern me. Jack and I…we’re not involved that way,” she said finally.
“But I thought…when I saw the two of you come in together…Well now, don’t I feel like an idiot,” she said, and flushed a pretty pink. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Kelly assured her. Eager to find out if she was wasting her time questioning the woman, she asked, “Did I detect a trace of a southern accent just now?”
Alicia’s eyes widened.
“You’re very good. Most people don’t notice. And since my parents spent a great deal of money sending me to boarding schools up north, I was sure that I’d manage to lose the accent.”
“It’s very faint. Alabama?”
“Mississippi,” she replied. “It must be nice for you to come home and hook up with old friends like Meredith.”
“It’s been interesting,” Kelly conceded. “What about you? What made you move to New Orleans instead of going back to Mississippi?”
“I lost my parents in an accident last year,” Alicia said, some of the animation fading from her expression. “I needed a change, so I moved to New Orleans.”
Kelly stared at the hazel-eyed beauty seated across from her now, sensed an overwhelming sadness and wished she’d never started down this path. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“Thank you. We were very close. I miss them a great deal,” she said, lowering her gaze a moment. Suddenly she jerked her head up, her eyes wide with dismay. “Oh, how selfish of me. Here I am feeling sorry for myself because I lost my parents while you, you poor thing, you grew up in an orphanage without anyone. Please forgive me.”
“Forget it,” she told Alicia. The one thing she’d never been able to tolerate was pity. “I assure you it wasn’t nearly as bad as you think.”
“Now I’ve offended you. Believe me, Kelly, that wasn’t my intention. Why, when I heard about everything you’d been through—growing up in that girls’ home and having to contend with people talking about…” Suddenly, Alicia fell silent.
“People talking about what?”
“Your gift,” she finished. “Someone mentioned at dinner that you were fey.”
“Fey?” Kelly repeated, taken aback with the quaint description and annoyed to realize she’d been the subject of dinner table gossip.
“You know, being able to see things. My grandmother Van Owen, my father’s mother, she was fey. Or at least that’s what Daddy called it. She could sense things about people. She’d know if a person had a good heart or a dark heart just by looking at them. I was only eight when she died, but I still remember her looking at me with those big dark eyes of hers. I swear she’d take one look at me and she’d know if I’d swiped an extra cookie from the kitchen or if I fudged about my practice time on the piano.” Her expression softened, making her even more lovely. “I’ve always wished that she had passed that talent on to me. Imagine how well I’d do if I knew what offers to make on a house for my clients right up-front?”
Kelly sensed Jack approach before she saw him. So she wasn’t surprised when his voice came from behind her. “Sorry it took me so long,” he said, and handed her the glass of water.
“No problem,” she said, taken aback by the temper she sensed in him as she took the glass.
“Hello, Alicia,” Jack said politely. “I see you’ve met Kelly.”
“Yes. We were just getting acquainted,” she said, and gave him a dazzling smile. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” he said, an edge in his voice.
Apparently picking up on the same angry vibe that she had, Alicia stood and said, “Well, I think I’ll go see if I can find Peter and let him know I found a tenant for that empty space in his office building.”
“Be sure to give Kelly one of your business cards, too,” Jack said, never taking his eyes from Kelly. “I understand from my brother that she’s looking for an apartment.”
“Yes, I know. We’re going to chat about it next week,” Alicia said.
“Is that right?” Jack asked, his mouth pulled into a tight line.
“Yes, it is,” Kelly assured him as she came to her feet.
“And just when were you going to let me know about your plans?”
It didn’t take psychic ability to realize that he was furious with her—and that that fury stemmed from the fact that she’d confided in his brother about her plans and not him. Tough, she thought. She owed Jack Callaghan nothing. He had no claims on her or had any right to be angry with her. She didn’t answer to him or anyone but herself. And it was just her own rotten luck that she was beginning to care for the man. “To be honest, I never gave it much thought one way or the other.”
“Maybe you should have,” he said, his blue eyes going stormy.
“And maybe you should mind your own business,” she said, still annoyed with him and his family for discussing her with Alicia and God knows who else. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’d like to say good-night to your mother and then I’m going back to my hotel.”
Twelv
e
She’d simply had to get away from that house and the party, Meredith admitted as she knocked on Kelly’s hotel room door. Thanks to Alex she’d been feeling blue and hurt and flat-out miserable when she’d seen Kelly practically run out of the place. And before she’d even gotten a chance to talk to the woman about doing the photos, too.
Only once she’d gotten into her car, she’d realized she had no place to go. In the past when things had gotten to be too much, she’d always gone to Alex’s. But not this time. Not ever again, she swore. Suddenly the ache inside her started all over again as she thought of him, of the way he had rejected her. And on the heels of that hurt came anger. Well, he’d never get the chance to hurt her again, she vowed. She’d show him. She’d show everyone that she could do just fine. And then they would be sorry. More determined than ever, she pounded her fist on the door. “Damn it, Kelly. Open the door. It’s Meredith.”
Moments later locks clicked and the door opened. Kelly stood there wearing a thick white terry-cloth robe, a towel wrapped around her head and a scowl on her face. “What are you doing here?”
“You left the party before we got a chance to talk about you doing those ads for Indulgences,” Meredith informed her. “So I decided to come over.”
“It’s late, and as you can see I was getting ready for bed.”
“It’s not that late.” Exasperated, she said, “Oh for pity’s sake, quit scowling at me and let me in. I really do need to talk with you.”
The elevator dinged. “Listen, Meredith, now is really not a good time to start badgering me about doing photos for you because I’m in a foul mood and—”
“Then we should get along just fine because so am I,” she said, and to prove her point, she barely missed catching Kelly’s bare toes with her spike heels as she bulldozed past her and into the hotel suite.
“Come right in and make yourself at home, why don’t you,” Kelly told her with no small amount of sarcasm.
“Thank you, I will,” Meredith replied, feeling just as annoyed as Kelly looked. She walked over and sat down on one of the couches. “And you might as well stop glaring at me. I told you, I’m in a lousy mood, too.”