by Julie Hyzy
I waited a beat before holding my hand out toward the door. “Still want to leave?”
She huffed. “Fine. Forget it.” She crossed the room to fling herself back on the couch, resuming her angst-ridden ingénue pose.
Flynn smirked. “She sure acts like a teenager.”
I asked Rodriguez and Flynn to follow me out of the office. “Frances, do you mind?”
My assistant settled her hostile gaze on Liza’s recumbent form. “We’ll be fine here, don’t you worry about a thing.”
“Well?” Flynn asked the moment we were in the corridor. “Tell us.”
We continued down the long hallway of third-floor offices, toward the stairs. Not knowing how much McClowery had shared with these two, I opted to play it safe. “The truth is I don’t know whether Eric has left town or not, but—for a lot of very good reasons—we need Liza to believe that he has.”
The two men stopped walking and exchanged a puzzled look. “That’s real nice,” Flynn said, “but it doesn’t answer my question.”
My turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The test,” Rodriguez said, impatient as Flynn. “The DNA. Have you found out if you and Mr. Marshfield are related?”
I raised a hand to my forehead. “This morning seems so long ago.” And then I remembered that Bennett was waiting for me upstairs.
“Well?” Flynn prompted, fidgety as ever.
I took a quick breath. “Yes, we’re related.”
They congratulated me and offered speculation about how my life would change. “That’s not why I did it,” I said. “Knowing Bennett is my uncle is enough. I don’t need anything more.”
Flynn lifted his chin toward my office. “I take it she doesn’t know. Your sister, I mean.”
I felt the familiar flutter of apprehension. “No,” I said. “She doesn’t.”
Rodriguez placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Maybe the sooner she leaves Emberstowne, the better.”
Chapter 31
Theo threw open the door to Bennett’s apartment with far less decorum than I’d come to expect from the staid butler. “Miss Grace,” he said, “Mr. Bennett told me the good news.” He grabbed my hand and shook it with vigor. “Best thing to happen here in a very long time.”
“Thank you, Theo.” Touched by his enthusiasm, I wrapped both my hands around his larger one. “I’m so happy to be part of a family again.”
“Mr. Bennett has considered you family for some time.”
“Gracie, is that you?” Bennett called from deep within the apartment.
“I’ll be right there,” I said.
“I don’t mean to detain you, Miss Grace,” Theo said.
“Good news is fun to share.” I patted him on the forearm. “But I suppose I ought to get in there.”
Theo’s pale eyes widened with emphasis. “He’s antsy today, no question about it. I think the quicker you talk with him the sooner he’ll settle down.”
“Thanks.”
He winked. “Welcome home.”
Bennett was pacing his study when I walked in. Much homier than his office, bookshelves lined three walls of this room. The center of the eastern wall featured a carved oak panel that had been set between shelves. A secret room lay behind that panel, and one of these days I hoped Bennett would make good on his promise to allow me to dig through the dusty treasures that had been secreted there.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
He stood behind the room’s low-backed persimmon sofa and I got the impression I’d stopped him mid-pace. “I wanted quiet time today. I wanted to spend time with you, talking about the future. I have plans, Gracie. Lots of plans. I want your input before moving forward.”
“We have plenty of time for that now.”
Bennett didn’t smile the way I’d expected him to. “Close the door, please.”
I obliged. He pointed toward the paisley wing chair that sat perpendicular to the couch. I sat.
“I trust Theo completely, but it’s best to keep tonight’s details to ourselves.” Bennett began marching back and forth across the room. “We don’t have a lot of time.” Holding up two fingers, he shook them as though chiding me with the peace symbol. “McClowery wants to go over everything again.”
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“No, no, Gracie. It’s not your fault. It’s that I’d hoped to have my plans in place before this whatever-you-want-to-call-it tonight. Stakeout? Sting? Whatever it is, occurs.”
I got to my feet and went over to him, preventing further pacing. “What do you mean ‘plans in place before tonight’? This isn’t the first time you’ve said such a thing. What aren’t you telling me?”
Although he smiled down at me, I recognized anxiety behind his eyes. “I don’t like to leave things unfinished. Not that I have any real safety concerns, mind you,” he added, reacting to my expression. “But after all the harrowing experiences you and I have lived through these past few years, I no longer take safety for granted. I told my attorneys to have everything prepared ahead of time. Once we had the proof in hand I wanted it to be easy. Sign, witness, done.”
“Bennett, there’s no need for changes.”
“I know you feel that way, but ownership of Marshfield has always remained with family. I’m not about to break tradition now.”
“You’re afraid of not making it through tonight, aren’t you?” Before he could answer, I said, “Call it off, then. No artifact, not even this jeweled key, is worth it.”
His eyes were sad. “I’ll be fine, Gracie. Again, it’s merely unfinished business that’s troubling me. I’m unsettled until I know everything is under control. The attorneys should have had everything ready to go, but . . .”
“It’s because of Liza, isn’t it?”
“She will need to be told. Better we face the consequences together, on our terms, than to have her discover the truth on her own. My attorneys believe it’s in my best interests to come up with specific provisions excluding Liza before changing my will to leave the bulk of my estate to you.”
“No, Bennett, no.”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “It’s my fortune. I’m allowed to do with it as I please.”
“I’m not comfortable—”
“I know that. Which is why I’m determined to make it through this evening without a scratch. I intend for you to learn everything so that you become comfortable by the time I am no longer here.”
“Please don’t talk like that.”
He seemed about to reassure me yet again when there was a knock at the door. “Come,” he called.
“Another wrinkle in tonight’s plan.” McClowery pushed his way in and stopped short, his surprise evident. “Glad to find you here, Grace. The matter I wanted to discuss involves you both.”
“Have a seat,” Bennett said.
McClowery lowered himself into the wing chair as Bennett and I sat on the sofa. “My team is set up. We’ve tapped into your closed-circuit system to maintain surveillance this evening.”
Without waiting for our acknowledgment, he went on. “As you know, Bennett, you’ll wear a hidden microphone so we can monitor all your conversations.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why is that necessary? Don’t you intend to apprehend Eric the moment he shows up?”
McClowery leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “As this event is open to all FAAC attendees, it’s very possible that Eric Soames will show up tonight intending to negotiate the sale of the jeweled key to Bennett, personally. That would be optimal.”
But. I was waiting for the “but.”
“But Soames isn’t stupid. A more likely scenario would be for him to use an intermediary for this initial contact with Mr. Marshfield.”
“Someone like Nina Buchman?” I asked.
McClo
wery nodded. “Or another associate we aren’t aware of. If Nina Buchman shows up here tonight, you’d recognize her?”
“Definitely.”
“Good.”
“You used the words initial contact,” I said.
“Eric Soames will probably send an emissary to connect with Mr. Marshfield and then negotiate a price as well as a time and place for the exchange,” he said. “We’re guessing, but are fairly confident, that Eric will want to complete the transaction fast. Perhaps even later tonight, after the event.”
“Wait,” I said. “Do you intend for Bennett to meet with criminals? Alone?”
“We hope to bring our investigation to a satisfactory conclusion before any such meeting takes place.” McClowery’s cold delivery held no compassion. “Mr. Marshfield has been advised of the risks. He has agreed to cooperate.”
I wanted to slap the dead-eyed stare off the agent’s flat face. “Did you forget that someone out there already killed a man to get this jeweled key? How can you put Bennett in danger like this?”
“Again, Ms. Wheaton, we hope it won’t come to that.”
“You hope,” I repeated.
“We will be right there. Mr. Soames won’t get away.”
Flynn’s recent warning echoed in my brain. What good will that do if you’re already dead?
Reading my thoughts, perhaps, Bennett patted my knee. “It will be okay, Gracie,” he said. “Let’s get back to the plan. You mentioned a wrinkle, Agent McClowery?”
The FBI man gave a quick nod, clearly relieved by the change of topic. “As you are both aware, our agency’s goal is not so much to apprehend Eric Soames as it is to use Soames’s testimony to bring down Mr. X.”
“And to recover the jeweled key,” Bennett reminded him.
“That is, of course, an important objective,” McClowery said, “but the FBI’s focus is to uncover the outfit responsible for its theft in the first place. This organization is, if you will, the engine that powers thousands of such thefts and subsequent black market sales every year.”
“Thousands?” I asked.
“I had no idea, either,” Bennett said, “until Agent McClowery first approached me about working with the FBI.”
McClowery looked at his watch and began speaking more quickly. “Not every theft is as notorious as this one. Not every item so valuable. That’s why tonight’s setup is of the utmost importance. Back to the change in our plan. It’s very possible that the ringleader Soames was working for will make an appearance here tonight.”
Despite the fact that I was still processing anger at the FBI’s willingness to put Bennett’s life at risk, I asked, “Why would he do that?”
“Our intelligence suggests that the head of the black market organization is an avid collector in his or her own right. Mr. X would blend in perfectly at tonight’s affair, whereas one of the boss’s hired guns would not.”
“You’ve mentioned that before,” Bennett said. “I don’t understand what’s changed.”
“What’s different now is our wild card.” To me, he said, “I’m talking about your sister, Liza.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We want her present at the reception tonight,” he said.
“What are you, nuts?” I asked.
“Liza will not be made aware that the FBI is in attendance. She will merely be told—by you—that because Eric has left town and because security is tight at Marshfield, there’s no reason to keep her locked away all evening.”
He sat up straight, as though that explained everything.
I shook my head. “What possible reason could you have to want Liza there?”
“By now, whoever hired Eric Soames knows who Liza is. Allowing your sister to mingle among potential targets tonight gives us the opportunity to observe who approaches her and how she interacts with them.”
“You want to use my sister as bait.”
“She will never be in any danger.” He blinked those flat eyes. “But essentially, yes.”
“You don’t understand my sister,” I said. “She swore she knew none of Eric’s business partners, but then admitted to recognizing Nina Buchman. My sister is a liar.”
The two men waited for me to continue.
“What if she really does know the person who hired Eric? Or what if she recognizes the person Eric sends? Then what?”
McClowery’s dead eyes finally glinted with life. “Even better.”
Chapter 32
“I don’t understand what changed your mind,” Liza said for the fourth time since I’d delivered the news. From the moment she knew she was attending the reception, she turned her behavior around. Abandoning both her perch on the sofa and her woe-is-me attitude, she’d spent the last twenty minutes walking around my office, nattering about how excited she was to be allowed a little fun for a change.
“I told you. This was Bennett’s idea.”
I hadn’t had a chance to tell Frances the reason for the new plan. Red-faced and fidgeting with pent-up curiosity, she marched in and slammed on my desk a report I’d requested.
“I know you weren’t thrilled with the idea of sitting with Liza,” I said to her. “Now that she’s joining the party, I’ll understand if you’d prefer to take a pass on tonight.”
“Pheh,” Frances said, fairly spitting the sound. “Not getting rid of me that easily.” She stormed back out.
Liza faced me again. “What I don’t understand is why Bennett changed his mind about me.”
“He didn’t change his mind about you. He’s being nice. That’s it. No hidden agenda.” Part of me hated how easily the lies spilled out. Part of me felt perversely proud.
“He didn’t seem to like me very much.”
Time to put an end to this discussion. I folded my arms across my desk with a thunk of finality. “Liza, can you understand that this is not about you? I made the mistake of telling him how bored you’ve been since you came here. Bennett is a very kind soul. He’s really just being nice.” I exaggerated a shrug. “What more do you want from me?”
My deadpan description of how Liza came to be invited didn’t do anything to dim her spirits. “I love parties. I can’t wait for tonight.”
“I can’t wait until it’s over.”
* * *
Brimming with wealthy guests, the banquet room buzzed with a very different sort of energy than it had this morning. Had it been only today that Bennett and I had learned the truth of our familial connection? That moment, and the happiness I’d felt, seemed so long ago.
Next to me, Liza sipped Champagne. “Can you imagine living like this?” she asked, her eyes wide as she took in the room’s soaring ceiling, priceless tapestries, and fireplaces the size of small bedrooms.
Thanks to Bruce and Scott’s efforts, my sister and I blended in well enough with the eclectic crowd. As promised, my thoughtful roommates had dropped off clothes. Some I didn’t recognize. I imagined those—in Liza’s size—had been acquired from the local consignment shop this morning.
I wore my favorite little black dress, pearl pendant, and matching earrings. Liza’s bohemian ensemble—a flowing, patterned skirt to her ankles, shiny scarlet top, and oversized fringed purse—was the perfect choice for my wild-card sister. The bright red would make it extra easy for McClowery to keep tabs on her.
My sister lifted her flute in a mock toast, the gesture reminiscent of this morning’s celebration in a way that made me very sad. “You’ve done well for yourself, Sis, landing a job that lets you rub noses with these kinds of people.”
“Marshfield is more than a job for me,” I said, in a rare, candid admission. “I love my life here.”
“Yeah.” She studied me for a moment, then took another long look around. “Staying put after Mom died was the right decision for you.” She sipped more Champagne. “I’m still waiting for my de
cisions to work out right.”
I had nothing to add so I moved through the groups of guests, greeting those I recognized.
Liza seemed unwilling to leave my side. “Where’s our host for this gala gathering?” she asked. “I want to thank him personally for inviting me.”
“Bennett will be along shortly. He prefers to join a party once it’s under way.” I was back to lying; Bennett was undergoing a last-minute mic check in a small room off the second-floor balcony.
“How many people did he invite to this thing?” she asked.
The banquet room could probably hold more than three thousand people standing shoulder to shoulder. At the moment we had far fewer than that, though enough to fill it comfortably. “Two hundred and fifty,” I said, “ish.”
“Wow.”
Frances elbowed her way through a group of people, who frowned and spoke in quiet voices. I’d taken notice of them earlier. There were fewer than a dozen of them, but they made themselves conspicuous by their antisocial behavior. None of these individuals had accepted a drink from a wandering waiter; several had, in fact, shooed servers away.
“Aren’t they the life of the party?” Liza asked. With a nod toward Frances, she whispered, “She fits right in.”
I caught a glimpse of one of the men, in profile. “Hey,” I exclaimed quietly, but before I could get a better look, the group had swallowed him back up.
Frances turned around, following my stare. “Who do you recognize?”
“Nobody,” I lied. “My mistake.”
Frances fixed me with a disagreeable frown. My poor assistant still didn’t know why Liza had been allowed to attend.
“I may need to disappear from the festivities for a bit,” I said. Yet another falsehood. “I always like to ensure that events like this are running smoothly behind the scenes.”
Liza shrugged her indifference.
Frances barely moved her lips. “Need any assistance?”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
Liza tugged my arm. “Tell me a couple of important things about collecting antiques.” Her face was alight with anticipation. “Or give me the names of expensive pieces so I can make small talk with these people.”