She hadn’t given a thought about whether or not Rick Conway would attend the funeral. Now she spotted his six-foot-plus frame standing behind two rows of people. Kelsey wondered how many hours he’d been questioned by the police after he shot Vernon Nott. She closed her eyes, as if that could shut out the sound of the guns firing into the night, but she knew the sound would haunt her for the rest of her life.
When a woman standing in front of Rick moved to the right, Kelsey was startled to see Janet O’Rourke by Rick’s side. Her petite body looked several pounds thinner in a simple moss green dress. Her normally glowing complexion was pasty, and she clutched Rick’s arm as if she were afraid she’d fall. Rick covered her hand with his. Kelsey had never sensed a romance between the two – only that of a friendly manager and employee. Today, though, Janet was clearly depending on Rick.
Just as the minister finished the last prayer, a breeze swept the gravesite, fluttering the petals of countless funeral wreathes. For the first time, Kelsey noticed a large vase of bright yellow and vivid pink tulips mixed with purple hydrangeas, Lorelei’s favorite flowers and colors, near the head of the casket. She lifted her gaze and saw a tall, handsome, slender man with slightly tousled sun-bleached blonde hair sweeping across his forehead and blue eyes fixed intensely on her. Kelsey’s heart stopped for a moment as her eyes met his. Then she suddenly felt as if Lori was speaking to her, introducing this man.
This had to be Cole Harrington, Lorelei’s lover.
SIX
When the service ended, Kelsey let go of her father’s hand and stared at Cole Harrington. He’d begun to move away from the other mourners when someone touched her arm.
‘Are you all right, Miss March?’
She turned to see Detective Pike, his quick, dark gaze moving between her and Cole. ‘That’s Cole Harrington,’ she muttered. ‘He’s the photographer who was going to do a shoot for Vogue in Africa with my sister the week after next.’ She hesitated, then said in distress, ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you this sooner. He’s married and I think he and Lori—’
‘I know.’
‘About their involvement? Their … affair?’
‘She was talking about him loudly at Conway’s Tavern. Several people overheard her, so I checked with two of her friends in New York.’ Pike paused and said with a trace of sympathy, ‘They’d only heard rumors. It might not have been an affair, Kelsey.’
He’d never called her Kelsey. ‘You can be the kindest man,’ Kelsey said in a quavering voice.
Pike looked embarrassed and Kelsey cleared her throat.
‘I wonder why he’s here and if his wife is with him.’
‘Cole Harrington and his wife took a commercial flight from New York to Louisville on Monday morning. They went to her family’s home here in the city.’ Pike looked away from her and frowned at the man edging away from the gravesite. ‘Can you keep him here? Isn’t there a reception afterward?’
Kelsey nodded.
‘See if he’ll stay. You might be able to learn something about Harrington’s relationship with your sister.’
‘Me? He won’t talk to me about Lorelei, especially if … Well, if …’
Pike looked at her with his depthless dark eyes. ‘We’re fairly certain someone hired Vernon Nott to kill either you or Lorelei. Cole Harrington might be involved in your sister’s death. If not him, maybe his wife. They were both in the city on Monday night. I know making small talk with him will be uncomfortable for you, but it’s important. Please.’
Without wasting another moment, Kelsey turned and headed for Cole Harrington, who was walking slowly, his gaze keen as it skimmed over everyone as if he was scrutinizing them. ‘Mr Harrington,’ she called as she neared him. He kept walking. Kelsey moved faster. ‘Mr Harrington?’ He’s ignoring me, she thought. I can’t just let him leave. I won’t get a chance like this again. She reached his side and put her hand on his arm. ‘Cole Harrington?’
He finally looked at her. For a moment she thought she saw alarm and furtiveness in his blue eyes. Then he gave her a small smile but said nothing.
‘I’m Kelsey, Lori’s sister. She told me all about you.’ Oh, hell, Kelsey thought. He’ll think I’m confronting him about their affair. ‘Lori said you’re a world-renowned photographer and she was delighted that you’d be doing the shoot in Kenya with her. And other models too, of course. She admired you and was so looking forward to the trip and …’ Suddenly Kelsey felt tears brimming. ‘So I … I just wanted to say hello.’
He placed a hand over hers. ‘I’m so very sorry about Lorelei, Miss March. I know sympathetic words seem hollow at a time like this, but your sister was more than a beautiful face. She’ll be missed by a great many people.’
Kelsey smiled, thinking he sounded slightly stiff, just like Detective Pike, but then how was he supposed to sound at a time like this? ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I hope you’ll come back to the house with us. These post-funeral gatherings can be uncomfortable but I know my father would like to meet you. And Lori …’ She swallowed. ‘Lori would have appreciated you coming to her home, seeing where she grew up.’
She saw doubt in his face. It was a strong face and strikingly handsome, with the straight nose, the smooth tanned skin, the slender lips, and even the lines that ebbed around his intensely blue eyes, as if he’d been looking into the sun too long. No wonder Lori had been attracted to him, Kelsey mused. It had probably been love at first sight. For her, at least.
‘If you’re sure I won’t be intruding, I’d like to pay my respects to your family in a warmer atmosphere. Cemeteries …’ He looked around and seemed to draw in on himself. ‘I don’t like them.’
‘I don’t either. I know a lot of people think they’re peaceful, but to me they’re just depressing.’ He smiled at her. ‘So you’ll come to our home?’
‘Certainly, Miss March.’
‘Please call me Kelsey.’
Cole stepped back as three other mourners pushed toward her. Most people were now dispersing, breaking into little groups and complaining about the gall of the press, who were waiting to pounce as soon as they began the migration to the March home, and looking up at the helicopter still circling. Kelsey spoke to a few people whose faces were a blur before she excused herself and began walking toward Pike. His gaze met hers and he barely shook his head. No. No? Then she realized he didn’t want to be seen talking with her. Of course. The police frequently attended the funerals of people who’d been murdered. She knew that from television. He doesn’t want Cole to see me talking to a detective, Kelsey thought. He doesn’t want Cole to be on the alert.
And neither did she.
Later, people thronged through the tasteful dove gray, pale sand and cobalt blue living and dining rooms of the March home. At first everyone spoke softly, but soon many forgot the circumstances. The volume rose and occasionally someone would let out a guffaw that made Kelsey wince. After she’d greeted almost everyone and become numb to the phrases that expressed grief, she saw Cole. He gave the impression of carefully controlled intensity as he stood near the big bay window overlooking the side lawn and pushed a piece of apple pie around his dessert plate. Kelsey approached him.
‘Something wrong with the pie?’ she asked.
He turned and his blue eyes seemed to take in all of her with one glance. ‘It’s delicious. I was thinking that you have a beautiful home. Your sister must have loved it here.’
‘She did.’
Cole looked out the window at the large white barn in the near distance. Sunlight bounced off the glass of the large cupola set in the middle of the barn’s red gabled roof and the two small fanciful cupolas on either side of it. The building looked pristine, graceful and lovely on the sea of dark green Kentucky bluegrass. ‘I haven’t seen many barns in my life, but the ones I have seen were just simple square buildings. Yours is beautiful,’ he said. ‘It looks like a mansion.’
‘It’s a sixteen-stall barn,’ Kelsey answered. ‘My grandfather March desig
ned it, and that’s what he wanted it to look like – a mansion.’
He smiled. ‘I like the cupolas.’
‘The four small ones mask exhaust fans. The big one lets light into the barn. Horses need light and fresh air to be happy, so the barn has lots of windows and six indoor-outdoor fans. It’s beautiful inside as well as outside.’ Kelsey realized she sounded like a tour guide. ‘My grandfather Vaden goes there often,’ she ended lamely. ‘He says it’s the best place to think.’
‘Does your father raise race horses?’
Kelsey paused in surprise. Hadn’t Lori ever talked to Cole about the horses? ‘My grandfather March did. Four of his horses ran in the Derby. Two won the Race for the Roses. Lori always called the Kentucky Derby the Race for the Roses.’
Cole smiled vaguely, nodding.
‘One went on to win the Triple Crown. But when Grandfather March died, Dad said he didn’t have his father’s talent or expertise when it came to breeding and training horses. Now we have only the three you see in the paddock, and they aren’t race horses.’
Cole looked with interest at the horses, so Kelsey stepped nearer the window and pointed. ‘The dark brown one is Dad’s American Saddlebred, Zane. The gray Arabian Yasmine is – was – my mother’s. And Lori’s Guinevere is the gold Palomino with the white tail and mane.’ She glanced at Cole, whose blue gaze was fixed on Guinevere. ‘Oh. Guinevere,’ he murmured thoughtfully, as if trying to commit the name to memory. Puzzled by his reaction, Kelsey said, ‘My sister was crazy about Guinevere. I’m surprised Lori never mentioned her to you.’
He looked up at her. ‘Well … of course she did. She just never described the horse, at least not in detail. I didn’t know Guinevere’s tail and mane look like Lorelei’s hair. Oh!’ Cole flushed. ‘I meant that as a compliment—’
He broke off and looked almost gratefully at a couple approaching them. Kelsey turned and smiled at them. ‘Hello, Miss March. We didn’t want to intrude but your father insisted we come to the house after the funeral.’
Tears brimmed in Janet O’Rourke’s large hazel eyes, and her freckled face was pale above her dark green dress. She looked even smaller than usual standing beside Richard Conway, who wore a well-tailored navy blue suit and stood very straight. Janet’s hand trembled slightly as Kelsey clasped it firmly.
‘Janet, I’m so glad you came. My sister really liked you.’
‘Ohhhh.’ Janet looked like she was going to cry before Rick stretched his arm across her back and put his large hand on her slender shoulder. She sniffled and stood a bit straighter, as if contact with him gave her strength. ‘Lorelei was lovely, inside and out. Not that I really knew her, but I could tell. I’ll treasure the piece of notepaper she signed for me forever.’
More tears rolled down Janet’s face, and although Kelsey knew Janet had most likely told Enzo Pike about Lorelei’s noisy announcement that she was in love with Cole Harrington, she couldn’t be mad at the young woman so genuinely upset about Lori’s death.
Rick put out his hand to shake Kelsey’s. ‘I wish I had something better to say than I’m sorry.’ His voice was deep and grave. Kelsey realized she’d only heard him speak in the cheerful tones of a welcoming host at Conway’s Tavern. Now he had shadows around his brown eyes, a furrow between his eyebrows, and his smile was forced. ‘What happened was … unspeakable. Unimaginable. If I’d only been faster …’
‘You have nothing to blame yourself for,’ Kelsey said. ‘You saved my life.’
‘And for that, I’m grateful to the depths of my soul.’ Truman had appeared beside Rick, looking alert and composed in a gray worsted wool suit, but he had hollows beneath his cheekbones. The wrinkles around his eyes were deeper, and his usually clear gray gaze was bloodshot from lack of sleep. ‘You acted with incredible calm and bravery. You’re a hero.’
Rick gave Truman a long, direct gaze. ‘I’m not a hero, sir,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t think at all that night. I just reacted when I sensed something was wrong.’
‘Many people’s reaction would be only to look out for themselves. I’m so thankful that you aren’t one of those people.’ After a moment of silence, Truman looked away from Rick to Cole.
‘Dad, this is Cole Harrington,’ Kelsey said quickly.
Cole shook Truman’s hand. ‘I can’t tell you what Lorelei’s loss is to everyone who knew her, everyone who worked with her. And to her fans, of course.’
‘Mr Harrington was going to be the photographer on Lorelei’s African shoot.’ Kelsey looked at Cole. ‘Has it been canceled?’
For a moment, Cole looked unsure, even cornered, before he finally answered in a careful voice. ‘I don’t think they can cancel it. So much planning has been done.’
They’ve already hired another girl, Kelsey thought with pain. Someone else had probably been chosen less than twenty-four hours after Lori’s death.
Kelsey’s gaze met Cole’s and he seemed to read her mind. ‘Yes, they’ll replace her, although no one can really replace Lorelei March,’ he said with feeling. ‘She was perfect for the shoot. She was so beautiful. And everyone says Lorelei was a joy to work with – many models aren’t. They’re demanding divas. I’m sure you know the type. Or maybe not if you haven’t been to many of her photo shoots …’
‘Neither Kelsey nor I ever went to one,’ Truman told him, smiling ruefully. ‘Lori said we’d make her nervous.’
Cole looked out the window. ‘Kelsey showed me Lorelei’s horse … Guinevere. She’s magnificent.’
‘Lori loves her horse. She rides Guinevere every day she’s home.’ Pieter Vaden had appeared next to Janet and seemed unaware of using the present tense. ‘She loves grooming her horse. Just look at Guinevere’s coat shining in the sun.’
‘She’s glorious,’ Janet said just above a whisper. ‘She’s like something out of a fairy tale.’
‘Or an Arthurian legend,’ Pieter said. ‘My Ingrid reads them to her.’
‘Is Ingrid your wife?’ Janet asked softly.
‘Yes, my dear. She’s a wonderful woman.’ Pieter looked around. ‘I don’t know where she’s gone off to right now. You must meet her.’ He smiled gently at Janet, clearly taken by her big hazel eyes and delicate, almost child’s, voice.
‘I only met Lorelei once,’ Janet went on. ‘She told me she was named after a poem about a girl with long blonde hair. I’m going to read that poem.’
‘Lori will be so happy to hear that, uh …’
‘Janet,’ she supplied as tears brimmed in her eyes. Pieter reached up to put his hand on her shoulder, only to find Rick’s still in place. ‘Ah, Janet, you’re inspiring so much male affection we’re competing over who may place a hand on your shoulder!’
‘She’s a great girl,’ Rick said.
Pieter peered at him. ‘I remember you!’ Oh no! Kelsey thought, her heart sinking as Pieter’s forehead wrinkled. ‘It’s the hair. Brown curls … You’re Milo! You used to date my Ingrid!’
Kelsey tensed, but Rick smiled at Pieter. ‘She married you, though,’ he said easily. ‘She made the right choice.’
‘You’re not a sore loser, Milo! Very admirable.’ Pieter surveyed Rick foot to head. ‘You’ve grown into a fine-looking man.’
‘Thanks. I could say the same about you.’
‘Ah, I’m not twenty-one anymore. Ingrid liked your hair. Mine is thick but straight and blonde.’ Pieter ran a hand over his hair that had been silver almost as long as Kelsey could remember. ‘Do you like horses? Have you seen Lori’s horse?’
‘Yes … Pieter.’ Kelsey could see that Rick had almost said ‘sir’ but caught himself. ‘She’s beautiful.’
Pieter nodded. ‘Beautiful. Beautiful.’
Kelsey smiled gratefully at Rick. He smiled back in a way that said she didn’t need to thank him.
‘I used to have a Palomino like Guinevere,’ Brad Fairbourne interrupted. He seemed to have materialized from nowhere and was standing behind Kelsey, his gaze fixed on Lori’s horse grazing peacefully
. ‘My stepfather had it put down.’
‘Darling, you make him sound cruel!’ Olivia exclaimed. Kelsey hadn’t seen her hovering slightly behind Truman. ‘You were eighteen and away in college, Brad. The horse was old and ill. Milton didn’t want you to watch your horse waste away.’
‘He was only sixteen,’ Brad persisted bitterly. ‘Horses can live to be twenty-five, or older.’
‘Healthy horses can. Yours was sick.’
‘I know he was sick, but Milton didn’t waste any money getting the best medical care for him. You can bet those horses get top-rate medical care, Olivia,’ Brad simmered.
Olivia’s gaze turned hard. ‘Don’t call me Olivia,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m your mother, Bradley.’
Kelsey noticed Cole watching Brad and Olivia closely. Brad looked tired. He was standing so near she could feel his breath on her neck. She glanced at Olivia to see that the woman’s fair skin blazed bright pink in the sunlight. Mother and son were having a skirmish at a funeral and Cole was fascinated. Had Lori told him about them, about her fear that Olivia was trying to become the next Mrs March, about her certainty that Olivia had always lied about her and Brad’s past? Or had Lori been too mesmerized by this handsome man’s vital presence to dwell on stories about people back home?
‘Losing the horse was sad but it was a long time ago,’ Olivia told her son firmly. Kelsey could tell she was furious with Brad, but managed a brilliant smile for Truman. ‘I’m afraid we’re ignoring our guests.’
Our guests? Kelsey thought angrily. This wasn’t a party, and no one had come to be entertained by Olivia Fairbourne. Apparently her father felt the same way. He looked at Pieter, who was scowling and nodding as his lips moved in a silent conversation. Truman ignored Olivia, and stepped forward and took his father-in-law’s arm.
‘I think Pieter and I need something stronger than coffee or tea. How does a mint julep sound, Pieter?’
Just a Breath Away Page 10