by Daco
As he caressed her, she reached up and loosened his tie, still perfectly knotted as always. Then she reached down and began to unbuckle his belt.
He grabbed her hands. As if awakening from a dream, he blinked his eyes and drew away from her. “We can’t do this.”
“We’re in the middle of the woods. No one can see us. I told them to play through. We’ll catch up.”
They locked eyes, and then he took her into his arms again, his kiss more exhilarating than before. When an errant golf shot from the foursome behind them hit a nearby oak tree, he drew back again, more forcefully this time. “I’m sorry,” he said. “The fact remains, you’re engaged. Let’s go before we’re found out.” He reached for her hand.
“What about my ball?” she asked, feeling flustered and suddenly embarrassed about the semipublic display.
“You haven’t found it yet?” a gruff voice asked. “Just what have you been doing?”
Alexa and Sigfred both startled.
“Just that, Uncle,” Alexa said, nervously tugging her shirt down. “Looking for my errant ball, so that I may play it as it lays. Manchester ethics to uphold.”
“We need to move on,” her uncle said. “Just declare your ball lost and take a penalty stroke.”
She was about to object, when Sigfred interrupted.
“I think that would be wise, Ms. Manchester,” Sigfred said. “Your ball must’ve rolled into the barranca. Besides, like I said, there are snakes in here.” His eyes hardened and cut to Montgomery before flicking back to hers. “We should move on.”
“Sensible advice,” Uncle Montgomery said in an icy tone.
Alexa picked up her golf bag before Sigfred could heft it this time, and they started back to the fairway, but before they made it through the rough, Uncle Montgomery said, “Sigfred, I’d like you to ride with me. I need your assistance in choosing a club for my next shot.”
Alexa and Sigfred exchanged glances, and then Sigfred joined her uncle. Alexa wondered what her uncle had seen. But what did it matter? She was a grown woman, and Uncle Montgomery was someone who had been in her life for a matter of days. He had no power over her at all. Yet, she suddenly felt an unaccountable fear at what he might try to do about this.
Alexa played the next holes in virtual silence, trying to shut out the feigned erotic giggles of those annoying twin bimbos. Meanwhile, The Mayor and Uncle Montgomery had started to bicker. Apparently, on the last hole, they’d placed a wager on the match, and now every move the other made became a matter of debate. The Mayor argued that a ball he’d hit in a drainage ditch was an unplayable lie, allowing him to take relief without a penalty stroke; Uncle Montgomery vehemently disagreed. Her uncle accused The Mayor of intentionally stepping into his putt line; The Mayor claimed that he’d stepped over it. And on and on, the tension growing so great that the men began ignoring the Dowdy twins, who seemed to be wilting in the afternoon heat.
On the twelfth hole, a par four, The Mayor sliced his second shot to the far right. The ball headed in the direction of Uncle Montgomery, who had—in breach of etiquette—driven ahead before The Mayor had taken his shot.
“Fore,” The Mayor shouted but only at the last moment and not very loudly—not at all loudly enough to warn Uncle Montgomery. The ball walloped the side of Uncle Montgomery’s cart and ricocheted into the center of the fairway.
Uncle Montgomery punched the gas pedal on his cart and ran over The Mayor’s ball.
“Oops,” Uncle Montgomery shouted to The Mayor. “Looks like you’re in a divot. Golf’s an unforgiving game.”
However, Alexa, who was standing with The Mayor tracking his shot, knew better. She said quietly for his ears only, “Bobby, you’re too good a golfer for a shot like that.” She glanced at Dani. “At least when your mind isn’t wandering.” She paused. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to kill my uncle.”
The Mayor got out of his cart and escorted Alexa off the fairway and out of earshot from Dani. “What do you know about your uncle?” he asked.
“First of all, take your hand off my arm. Second of all, what are you talking about, Bobby?”
“Your uncle is a scoundrel. Always has been. And he’s a womanizer.”
“That’s hard to believe. And who are you to talk the way you’ve been cavorting with Dani?” Although Alexa realized that she was hardly one to talk.
“I know about your uncle firsthand. When I was maybe two years old, your uncle seduced my nanny. She left my side to go into the bushes with the man, and I was almost killed. The gardener saved me. That’s one of the reasons that your grandfather threw your uncle out. As for Dani Dowdy, I can’t control how she behaves. She flirts with everyone.”
Alexa felt her cheeks flush hot. Was this true about her uncle? She didn’t want to believe it. Besides, she was beginning to understand that Bobby Baumgartner wasn’t as trustworthy as he’d always seemed.
“That’s an easy accusation to make,” she said. “But it’s hearsay.”
“I was there.”
“You were two years old.” She paused, eyebrows rising with surprise. “You were trying to kill my uncle with that golf shot, weren’t you?”
He ground his club into the turf in anger. “That’s absurd. I’m just trying to finish the round. If that old fool has the bad sense to drive ahead of me, it’s his problem.”
She shook her head. Whatever the truth, she’d made a decision. “I’ve had enough. The engagement is off, Bobby.”
The Mayor turned several shades of color from red to purple and opened his mouth, looking as if he might bellow, but then his eyes widened and bulged, and he vomited a glob of the vilest black liquid that Alexa had ever seen. She took a step back, horrified, as he bent over coughing, not stopping until Dani ran over and patted his back.
“I’m sorry you’re taking this so hard, Bobby, but I’m not going to change my mind,” Alexa said, trying to avoid becoming sick to her stomach herself because of what she’d just witnessed. “Are you all right? We should call a doctor.”
Bobby sprung to his feet, surprisingly agile for someone who’d just lost his last meal. “I’m fine. Just momentarily stunned.” He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and patted his mouth and face. “I hope you’ll reconsider, Alexa. In fact, I’m not going to accept your rejection. Take some time to think about this, and you’ll realize that I’ll make you a fine husband. Meanwhile, if my physical crisis in any way stained your attire, please do send me the cleaning bill. Now, let’s finish the round. Mayor Bobby Baumgartner does not let a little glitch interfere with what is truly important in life. Why don’t you ride along with me?” He smiled debonairly.
“I’m not going to force Dani to walk. The perspiration will ruin her makeup. I’ll see you at the next tee.” Alexa wanted desperately to quit playing—heck, all of them probably wanted to quit except the twins—but she soldiered on.
On the eighteenth hole, a par three, Uncle Montgomery stood on the tee. He addressed the ball and took the wildest, most violent swing that Alexa had ever seen. The ball went on a beeline left, almost ninety degrees. It hit The Mayor, who’d been standing too far forward and speaking with Dani, square in the left temple. Alexa gasped. Bobby crumpled to the ground like a doomed, fatally wounded deer in hunting season. Dani screamed, and Sigfred rushed over to The Mayor.
Uncle Montgomery just stood there on the tee, smirking. “Anyone mind if I take a mulligan?” he asked.
Alexa watched her uncle in horror. Perhaps Bobby and Sigfred were right, and her uncle wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. She’d always been a trusting person, perhaps too trusting. Ever since the incident at The Magpie, she didn’t know whom she could trust now.
While Della was on her cell phone calling the emergency medical team and Sigfred and Dani were tending to The Mayor, Alexa quickly considered transforming into Electromancer and transporting The Mayor to the nearest hospital. But then suddenly, The Mayor groaned, leaped up, and said, “Could someone ha
nd me my nine-iron? I do believe I have the honor.”
Alexa gaped at Bobby in confusion. Had the ball really struck him, or was he faking all of this? But she’d seen the ball carom off his skull. Perhaps the heat of the day and the heat of her encounter with Sigfred were causing her mind to play tricks upon her. Or maybe the electrical currents always running under the surface, even when she was Alexa, were interfering with her brainwaves.
Unexpectedly, Alexa’s cell phone rang. When she answered it, Dr. Charles Chin said, “Ms. Manchester, you’d better get down to The Mick. There’s been a break-in. Your father’s laboratory. It’s been completely ransacked.”
Chapter 18
Later that afternoon ...
Alexa reclined on a couch in the rose-scented sunroom, trying to make sense of the day. She’d begun it as an engaged woman, bent on compromising her personal life so that she could embrace her life as Electromancer more easily. Then, she’d shared that sublime, transgressive interlude with Sigfred. She’d broken off her engagement with the unreliable Mayor Baumgartner, who was hospitalized with a severe concussion and who, before he’d been taken to the ambulance, was ranting about her Uncle Montgomery, grasshoppers, and Henrietta Hensinger. Meanwhile, it appeared that The Mayor and Uncle Montgomery had tried to kill each other, though both had denied it. Certainly, her uncle Montgomery had gotten the better of that exchange.
Then the day had gotten even worse—the break-in at The Mick. She’d wanted to investigate alone, but her uncle insisted on accompanying her there, said he was worried about her safety. Sigfred had wanted to drive them to The Mick, but Uncle Montgomery had insisted that this was private Manchester business, and Alexa agreed, only because she wanted to gauge her uncle’s behavior after what Bobby had claimed about him. When she and Uncle Montgomery arrived at The Mick, Constable Pete Petaud had already marked off the area as a crime scene and had forbidden their entry until after the room was dusted for fingerprints.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much evidence to be found. None of the workers claimed to have seen or heard anything suspicious. Was it an inside job? Alexa wondered. She’d hate to think that her employees had betrayed her. Still, she was learning, yet again, that she apparently shouldn’t trust anyone.
Now, Gladys came into the sunroom and set down a service of tea and scones. “Your uncle is on the way in to speak with you, Alexa.” Gladys turned, but not before Alexa caught a smile playing on the woman’s lips.
“You’re fond of Uncle Monty, Gladys, if that twinkle in your eye means anything.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Gladys said, but she was blushing now.
Alexa hesitated, wanting to phrase her question gently. “Are you ... sure about him?”
“Of course. Why, he reminds me of your late father. The same intelligence, the same sense of humor, the same kind spirit.”
“Hmm.” Alexa wasn’t buying it. There were too many contradictions. Uncle Montgomery was alternately avuncular and dictatorial, calm and temperamental, forthcoming and closemouthed. He was also mysterious—they’d left The Mick a day earlier because an important package had supposedly arrived for him, so important that Gladys had telephoned to ask him to return to the mansion immediately. Yet, when they got home, he merely locked the package in his room and never mentioned it again. Then there was the matter of Uncle Montgomery and The Mayor trying to kill each other.
Before Alexa could convey her doubts to Gladys, Uncle Montgomery announced his presence by clearing his throat. He sat down in a large easy chair. “Alexa, I need you to sign some paperwork.” He handed her a stack of papers with various sticker arrows that read, Sign here. He offered her a pen, which she refused.
After she read the papers, she stood up, electricity crackling in her ears. “What’s the meaning of this, Uncle Monty?”
“What is it?” Gladys asked.
“My uncle wants me to sign over temporary control of the Manchester holdings to him. Except “temporary” means indefinite, as I read in this fine print.” She gazed at her uncle in horror. “Is this what was in the package that arrived the other day? Did you have your lawyers draw this up?”
“Sign them, Alexa,” he said icily.
“I will not.”
“I’m afraid this is exactly what I feared,” he said. “You’ve been behaving erratically even before I got here, as I understand it. Gladys has told me all about your flightiness with The Mayor—the on-again, off-again engagement. Not only that, but you seem to believe in some conspiracy theory that a shadowy criminal warlord is out to get you. Not to mention your childish belief in a superhero that can fly and shoot electricity.”
“That is true,” she insisted. “It’s been all over the news.”
“The news can be manipulated,” her uncle said. “It’s always manipulated.”
Alexa glanced over at Gladys, wondering what else the woman had told Uncle Montgomery. Gladys averted her eyes.
“This discussion is over,” Alexa said. “In fact, out of respect for you, Uncle Montgomery, I’ll pretend that it never began. I’m off to consult with Chef Yurdlemon about dinner.”
“I think you should sit down, Alexa,” he said, holding up another stack of papers. “I believe you are acquainted with The Manchester Trust?”
“Of course. I control it. No one else can take control of the trust while I’m alive and well.”
“You must sign these papers!” Uncle Montgomery said, his face turning red and his voice growing louder. “If not, I’ll take your incompetence up with the board of directors. Then I’ll get you psychiatric help. Perhaps a conservatorship until your hallucinations subside.”
“You’re the one who’s delusional,” Alexa said, starting toward the door.
“Was I delusional when I saw you in the woods with Sigfred Sawyer?” he asked. “From what I saw, it looked like he was holding your ... hand.” A disdainful look crossed his face. “More than that even. Cavorting with servants is unbecoming of a Manchester heiress, to say the least. Further evidence of mental instability.”
Alexa felt electrical sparks bite harder at her nerve endings. She couldn’t allow herself to become upset. Neither could she stand there and listen to this drivel from this so-called uncle whom she’d only just rediscovered. He didn’t know her. He had no right to judge. “Sigfred was helping me through the tall grass and weeds. I call that gentlemanly behavior.” He didn’t need to know about the rest.
Uncle Montgomery’s expression softened so abruptly that Alexa almost startled. “Think of The Mick and your father’s legacy,” he said. “Your fault, not your fault, it doesn’t matter. Now, the public distrusts Alexa Manchester. If we continue to go on this way, your father’s legacy will be permanently blemished. The damage will be irreparable.” He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “All I’m trying to do is preserve the family name. My dear brother’s name. You were the one who persisted in calling the plant The Mick, and now it’s all a shambles.”
Her uncle’s words struck her at the core. Preserving her father’s legacy meant everything to Alexa. Maybe what her uncle was saying made sense. Maybe she was too naive and inexperienced to run the Manchester holdings.
And then she remembered her uncle’s errant golf ball and the look of triumph on his face as The Mayor lay unconscious.
“You needn’t be worried, Uncle Monty. I can assure you that I am just fine. What happened at The Mick was an accident. Accidents happen. We all do our best to avoid them. Witness your errant golf shot. That was an accident, wasn’t it, Uncle Montgomery?” His mouth gaped open, but she wasn’t about to wait for an answer. “Now, if you’ll excuse me ...” She turned her back on him and left the room.
As she walked down the hall, she took three deep breaths to calm herself down. She’d spoken firmly to her uncle, had staked out her position, but she was worried. Sometimes she did feel as if she were going crazy, wondered if she’d imagined everything that had happened to her over the past few days. Could he really have her ousted from h
er company? Worse, have her committed to a mental facility?
She stewed over all of this until dinnertime. She dreaded having to sit across from Uncle Montgomery at the long table and make nice, but he sent word through Gladys that he was dining out—where, he didn’t say. Relieved, she ate dinner alone, wondering how she could thwart her uncle’s power play. Those thoughts led to worrying about Momo’s next power play. The masked scoundrel was undoubtedly already planning his next move.
Worrying was getting Alexa nowhere. She couldn’t control what others were going to do. She had to make her own decisions. She retired to the study and placed the engagement ring into a small box, sealing it. The engagement was officially off. It was empowering to take control again. Sigfred was right, she needed to follow her heart. He’d always done what was best for her. Money, status, social position—none of that mattered.
And that kiss! No man had ever kissed her like that before. His touch had imprinted itself upon her very soul. She felt as if a bright light had illuminated a darkness that she hadn’t known existed, revealing a truth that should’ve been obvious all along—she was in love with Sigfred Sawyer. And surprisingly, he had to be in love with her. A man who kisses like that is a man in love. Suddenly, her future didn’t seem so frightening.
At about eight-thirty, Alexa summoned Gladys to her study. When Gladys arrived, Alexa handed her a small package.
“It’s Mayor Baumgartner’s ring,” Alexa said. “Please have Sigfred deliver it to The Mayor right away. I believe he’s still in hospital, but doing well. Sigfred can deliver the ring there.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Gladys responded.
“Why ever not?”
“Sigfred has gone. Or more accurately, your uncle told him that his services were no longer necessary.”
“What?! Uncle Monty sacked him? Without even consulting me?!” Rage curled around Alexa’s spine and uncontrollable sparks flew from her fingertips. Gladys ducked, but the electricity singed the antique grandfather clock and bookshelves.