The Troublesome Angel

Home > Nonfiction > The Troublesome Angel > Page 7
The Troublesome Angel Page 7

by Valerie Hansen


  Chapter Six

  Stacy let Lewis take the lead while she guided him in ever wider circles around the perimeter of the Payne house. She’d tried to convince Graydon to let her work alone, to no avail. He was sticking close the same way her dogs guarded a favorite chew toy.

  That analogy made Stacy smile in spite of herself. Unfortunately, he noticed.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Not a chance.”

  He snorted with derision. “I take it your flash of good humor was sarcasm at the expense of my family, then?”

  Amazed at how close he’d come to her earlier thoughts, Stacy whipped around to look up at him. The appealing sparkle in his dark eyes sent a shiver zinging up her spine and made the hair on the nape of her neck tingle. Rather than lie, she decided to refrain from offering any rebuttal.

  Gray nodded. “I figured as much. Know what? You have a real problem, lady.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re a snob.”

  “I’m a what?” She couldn’t believe he was serious.

  “A snob,” he said, accentuating the words. “You think that just because you grew up with less than I did and became a success in spite of your rough childhood, you’re somehow better than the rest of us.”

  “I do not.”

  “Oh? You could have fooled me.”

  “I…” Stacy’s conscience refused to let her continue the denial. Warmth flowed up to color her cheeks. Surely he couldn’t be right about her. Or could he?

  “See? I knew it.”

  “Oh, stop looking so smug,” she told him. “I had no idea I was doing that…assuming I actually was.”

  “You were. Admit it.”

  She pulled a face. “Okay. Maybe I was. So I’m not a saint yet. But the Lord’s working on me. Give Him time.” It galled her to admit that God might use a man like Graydon Payne to point out her faults.

  “Gladly. As long as you’ll give me the benefit of the same treatment. Remember, I can’t help how I grew up any more than you can. Or any more than Missy can. All we can do is take each day God gives us and try to do our best with what we have.”

  “Or don’t have,” Stacy added. “You’re right. I apologize for letting my personal feelings interfere with my work.” Looking down at her dog she shook her head slowly. “Speaking of which… Lewis hasn’t found any kind of a trail and we’ve been at it for nearly half an hour. I think we’re wasting our time out here.”

  “If you say so. What now?”

  She glanced toward the house. “You need to search inside again.”

  “Okay. Come on.”

  Stacy held up her hand, palm out, and began to back away. “Oh, no. Not me. That’s where I draw the line.”

  “Why?” Gray was beginning to regard her knowingly, his head cocked to one side. “You scared?”

  “No. I just make it a point to avoid places where I’m not welcome.”

  “Even when a child needs you?”

  “That was a low blow,” she said, scowling.

  “You and I both know Missy’s in no danger while she’s in the house.”

  “Assuming that’s really where she is,” he countered. “What if we’ve missed something and she’s not in there either? What if—”

  “Okay, okay.” Stacy waved her hand back and forth to stop him. “I get the picture. I’ll come with you.”

  “Into the lions’ den?” Gray teased.

  “Sure. Why not? If Daniel could do it with real lions, I’m sure I can face your parents one more time.” She heard him chuckle quietly. “Just stop acting like you’re going to enjoy putting me through this. Okay?”

  “Not a chance,” he said. “If I wasn’t so worried about Missy, I’d probably sell tickets to all my friends. My parents would have eaten you up and spit out the pieces if I hadn’t interceded the last time you were here. But they don’t have a clue how much you’ve matured since then. I can’t wait till they find out. It should be quite a show.”

  The inside of the house hadn’t changed much since the last time Stacy’d been there. At least she didn’t think it had. With all the antiques and ornate furniture, it was hard to tell. Gray led Lewis and her in via a side door and detoured through the kitchen to explain the circumstances to the cook and butler.

  An elderly groundsman, Euless Feeters, was seated at the kitchen table having lunch. He smiled and stood with the rest of the staff when Gray introduced Stacy. “How do, ma’am. Y’all have any luck?”

  “None,” Stacy said soberly. She addressed the group. “Can any of you think of some special places Missy liked to play around here?” The cook and butler both shook their heads.

  So did Euless. He snorted. “Naw. Poor little thing was never allowed out of the house, far’s I know. Shame, too. To listen to Nathan, a body’d think it was a blamed sin to enjoy nature.” He shot a contrite glance toward the younger Payne. “’Scuse my French.”

  “No problem,” Graydon said. “I agree with you. Besides, you knew Dad when he was a boy. You and Grandpa Nate go way back. Far as I’m concerned, that entitles you to say whatever you want.”

  “Darn right. Me and ole Nate used to run trot lines up and down the White and jug for catfish when we got hungry.” He stared into the distance, obviously remembering, then chuckled. “Course, a fella had to tie up them jugs real good or those big river cats’d take off with ’em, hook, line and all.”

  Stacy listened, amazed. “You mean, the Paynes weren’t always wealthy?”

  Feeters cursed colorfully, making Stacy and the cook blush. “Poor as church mice,” he went on. “Just like me and mine. Then ole Nate met Anna and wanted to settle down, so he bought some acreage down on the Arkansas, south of here. Came time to sell it and move on, he made a pretty penny, I’ll tell you. Invested it all. That’s how he got started.”

  She glanced up at Graydon. “Is that true?”

  “Sure is. Grandpa was always proud of the way he’d worked his way up in the world.”

  “Ought to of stayed right where he was, if you ask me. All that money caused nothin’ but trouble when he up and died.” Feeters glanced down at Lewis. The dog was seated politely at Stacy’s side, drooling. “You fixin’ to take that hound into the rest of the house whilst your mama’s at home, boy?”

  “Of course.” Gray grinned at the old groundsman. “Why? You want to watch?”

  “Oh, no. Not me.” Feeters scooped up the remains of his sandwich, grabbed his faded baseball cap and started across the kitchen. “I know better than to be within a hundred miles a this place when that woman gets a gander at you and that dog in her fancy parlor.” Laughing and shaking his head, he ducked out the door.

  Gray looked at Stacy and gestured toward the archway leading to the main part of the house. “Shall we?”

  Heaving a telling sigh, she complied. “Okay. But I wish I was going with Mr. Feeters. I think he’s the smart one around here.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let Mother pick on you the way she used to. Not much, anyway.”

  “Very funny.” She shot a withering glance over her shoulder at him, then remembered what he’d said about her being a snob in reverse. It had helped to hear that the Paynes hadn’t always been rich. It made them seem more human. She was curious to know the details. “Tell me about your grandfather’s farm.”

  “The one he sold? There’s not much to tell. It was just bottom land along the Arkansas River, like Euless said.” He hesitated for effect, then added, “I think they call the place South Little Rock, now.”

  Gray’s parents, Estelle and Nathan Payne, were seated in the drawing room when Graydon ushered Stacy and her dog into their presence. Before either of them could do more than gasp in surprise, Gray said, “We’ve been all over the grounds. Missy’s not there. We’re going to check the house.”

  Nathan jumped to his feet seconds before his wife. “You’ll do no
thing of the kind! The servants have already done that.”

  It surprised Stacy to realize she felt briefly threatened. Apparently, she hadn’t lost all her youthful dread of encountering the elder Paynes again. At her side, Lewis tensed and growled. Nathan backed down visibly.

  “Really, Graydon…” his mother began.

  It was the look of disdain in Estelle’s eyes that gave Stacy the confidence boost she needed. Stepping forward, Lewis heeling at her side, she smiled pleasantly and extended her free hand. “I guess you don’t remember me, Mrs. Payne. I’m Stacy Lucas. I used to be a friend of Mark’s.”

  “Oh, really?” She made no move to shake Stacy’s hand. “How nice.”

  Amused by the rebuff, Stacy stepped back. “Actually, it was for the best that we stopped seeing each other. I’m glad he’s found someone like Candace.”

  The older woman stared. “You know Mark’s wife?”

  “Not personally. I saw her at the Spring River Campground with Mark, the first time Missy ran away.”

  “Oh?” Estelle’s eyebrow arched.

  Stacy’s indignation was rapidly waning, leaving her feeling contrite about the antagonistic thoughts that kept popping into her head. Obviously, the Lord wasn’t through showing her that she had a long way to go before she could claim she’d completely forgiven the elder Paynes.

  She spoke her conclusions. “Look, I came to find a lost child, that’s all. As soon as I find her, I’ll be out of your hair for good.” A subtle smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “That’s a promise.”

  Nathan found his voice. “Now see here, Graydon…”

  Stacy sensed Gray close behind her. To her surprise, Lewis tolerated his nearness this time.

  “Well, Dad, we could always call the authorities instead. I’m sure your ritzy neighbors would be thoroughly entertained by a horde of uniformed officers combing this place from one end to the other. It should make quite a show.”

  Estelle spoke up. “That won’t be necessary, Graydon. I’m sure you can look after Ms. Lucas for us.”

  The implication of mistrust was clear to Stacy. It struck her so funny she temporarily gave in to her all too human urge to tease. She gazed up at her protector and batted her lashes dramatically. An overly sweet smile graced her lips. “Will you look after me, Gray? Make sure I don’t go anywhere I don’t belong? Maybe count the silver when I’m done?”

  He didn’t merely chuckle in response, he roared. She was leaning so close to his broad, strong chest that she could actually feel the vibrations of his hearty laughter.

  Her pulse thudded in her temples. Made her dizzy. It took enormous willpower to convince herself she could step away from Gray without falling flat on her face in front of the elder Paynes.

  He seemed to sense her need of physical as well as emotional support so he gently cupped her elbow as he said, “Honey, I’ll even frisk you before you leave, if that’s what it takes to please everybody.”

  Estelle’s sharp gasp was barely audible, thanks to the peals of raucous laughter again coming from Graydon as he formally escorted Stacy and Lewis out of the room and closed the door behind them.

  When they reached the hall, he paused to gain control of his sense of humor. His hand remained firmly on Stacy’s elbow. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Her grin was so wide it made her cheeks hurt. “On the way over here, I told Lewis we’d be about as popular as a skunk at a Sunday school picnic. That analogy didn’t even begin to describe what just happened.”

  Gray smiled down at her. “You have to get used to them. They’re not as bad as they seem.”

  “Yeah, right. And I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

  He bowed low with a flourish. “Your humble servant, your majesty. Where shall we begin the search?”

  Stacy was tempted to suggest his parents’ suite upstairs, simply to vex them more, but she resisted the urge. “Wherever they let Missy play, I guess. Does she have any toys here? Any place she calls her own?”

  “Not really.” He sobered. “Mother was supposed to be baby-sitting for Mark and Candace. She’s done it before, although she usually hired someone else to come over and do the actual supervision.”

  “But not this time?”

  “I don’t think so. That’s probably what went wrong. In case you haven’t noticed, my mother is not the world’s most grandmotherly person.”

  Stacy rolled her eyes. “No kidding.” A rush of sympathy for the little boy Gray had been surprised her. Softly, she said, “It must not have been easy growing up in this house.”

  “It was okay. Mark fared better than I did.” The last vestiges of his smile faded.

  “Probably because he was the youngest,” she volunteered.

  “Probably. It’s always hardest on the firstborn.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I was an only child.”

  “Do you have any family left?” His voice was low, the words compassionately spoken.

  “The best anybody could hope for. My family is my church, my Christian friends. I don’t know what I’d do without their love and acceptance.”

  “Plus your dogs,” he reminded her.

  Stacy laid a hand on Lewis’s head, her fingers ruffling the fur behind his silky ears. “That goes without saying. These guys are more than just a job. They’re the reason for my existence.” She straightened. “So let’s get back to work. Take me to the place Missy was last seen and we’ll begin there.”

  Gray led the way to a sweeping staircase framed by carved newel posts and a mahogany banister. In the corner of the bottom step sat a beautiful porcelain doll dressed in pink satin and lace. It had blue eyes and its hair was the same strawberry-blond color as Missy’s.

  “Mother said she left her playing right here.” Gray pointed to the step.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t take her doll with her.” Picking it up, Stacy held it for Lewis to sniff. His tail began to wag even before she said, “Find.”

  Making several false starts then changing his mind, the dog finally settled on a path through the sitting room to the atrium. Once there, however, he quickly doubled back.

  When he returned to the stairs, Gray said, “Humph. He’s as confused as we are.”

  Stacy wasn’t discouraged. She’d seen too many miraculous rescues to doubt her dog’s abilities. The problem wasn’t Lewis, it was the proper interpretation of his actions. “Not necessarily. Simmer down, stand clear and give him time to sort it all out. Obviously, Missy wandered all over down here, which makes things even harder. He’s just looking for the most recent scent trail.”

  Lewis glanced up at Stacy as if to confirm her statement, wheeled, and took off at a run, pulling her along behind him. He bounded halfway up the staircase, then stopped and began pawing frantically at the carpeting that covered the steps. Little tufts of rose-colored wool drifted downward.

  “Oh, terrific,” Graydon muttered, swatting at the bits of fuzz like he’d shoo away a fly. “Mother’s going to love this.” He looked back at the drawing room door to make certain it was still closed the way he’d left it. They’d never find Missy if his mother appeared and demanded that Lewis be banished for digging up her new carpeting.

  Stacy was confused, too. She bent over the dog. “No, Lewis. No. That’s impossible. She can’t be there.”

  “No kidding.” Gray peered up at them from between the banister posts. The dog was clearly refusing to heed her warning. “Can’t you do something with him? He’s tearing the place apart.”

  Stacy pulled Lewis up on a tight leash, sat down on the step he’d been trying to scratch his way through, and smoothed the ragged edge of the carpeting with her hand. The dog seemed to relax. He laid his chin on her lap and looked soulfully up at her.

  Thoughtful, she stroked his broad head. There had to be a logical reason for his strange behavior. But what? If Missy had played up and down the steps, leaving a stronger scent trail there than anywhere else, the dog should have taken that route in the first place. Why hadn’t he
? And why tear at the carpet all of a sudden?

  Gray was standing at the landing, shaking his head and talking to himself. Stacy ignored him. So did Lewis. Then the dog startled. His ears pricked. His head cocked. His tail began to thump.

  She listened. The muttering man at the foot of the stairs was distracting. “Hush up,” she ordered, waving a hand at him. “Listen.”

  “To what? Your dog tearing up my mother’s house? I’ll have plenty to listen to when she sees the damage.”

  “Not that. Lewis hears something. If you weren’t making so much noise maybe I could, too.” She leaned back and rested her ear on the step above.

  At first, all she heard was the thrumming of her own pulse. Then there was a whimper, a sob. Missy!

  Stacy jumped to her feet. “She is here! Is there a closet or something like that under the stairs?”

  “Yes! A little storage area that nobody uses.” He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? I used to crawl under the table and open the door so I could hide in there when I was a kid.”

  Circling the arch of the staircase ahead of Stacy and Lewis, Gray shoved aside the heavy library table that hid the small, low door from view. “I doubt even the servants know this is here. The catch is hidden in the paneling so it doesn’t spoil the decor. I remember how it works.”

  He tried twice. “It’s stuck.”

  “Well, do something,” Stacy said, holding the taut leash. “Lewis can hear her crying and he’s going nuts.”

  Gray grasped the rusty latch and gave a jerk. The door popped open. Missy erupted from the dark little space with a shriek and launched herself straight into his open arms. She was sobbing incoherently.

  Stacy stood back and waited while man and child held a heart-rending reunion. Thank you, Lord, she prayed silently, letting tears of relief and joy slide freely down her cheeks without embarrassment.

  When Gray finally stood and looked at Stacy, his eyes were moist, too. Missy, still drawing ragged breaths and sniffling, hid her face against his shoulder and gripped his neck as if she never intended to let go.

 

‹ Prev