A Rare Chance

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A Rare Chance Page 24

by Carla Neggers


  Before the orchids, however, came Titus Reading.

  He trotted down the steps. He looked energetic and capable but not sociable. “There you are. I was just about to give up on you. You’re out early.”

  “Force of habit.” Not, she thought, that spending the night with Cam Yeager was a habit.

  Titus didn’t smile. “I’d like to talk to you, Gabriella. It’s important. May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  Deeply aware of the manila envelope containing Lizzie’s journal tucked under her arm, Gabriella led Titus up to her fourth-floor apartment. He commented on the building’s architecture and the pleasant weather following last night’s rain, giving away nothing of his purpose in coming to Marlborough Street. In her year at TJR Associates, Titus Reading had never paid her a personal visit.

  She offered him a seat in the living room and gave the place a quick scan for any of the ruckus that had occurred there yesterday. Pros like Cam Yeager and Pete Darrow might have picked up on something incriminating, but she saw nothing. And Scag, at least, wasn’t up on the roof this morning.

  “Can I get you coffee?” she asked.

  “No. Thank you, I’m fine. Please, sit down.”

  She did so, sliding right to the edge of her overstuffed sofa. She was jittery, confused, worried. She needed time alone to sort things out, to think. Had Titus come here to fire her? Because he suspected his brother was a creep? But she was getting ahead of herself. One thing at a time.

  “Gabriella,” he said gravely, his blue eyes pinned on her, “I want you to tell me about Cameron Yeager.”

  “Cam Yeager?”

  “That’s right. Why did you involve him in affairs that are none of his business or, when it comes right down to it, yours?”

  She bit down on her lower lip. “What do you mean?”

  As an attempt to buy time, it was trite and lame, and she knew herself well enough to know she’d never manage to look innocent. Titus leaned back in his chair, his eyes not leaving her. “All right. We’ll play this your way if you insist. Cam Yeager is Pete Darrow’s former partner. Remember? We discussed him before the dinner announcing Joshua and Lizzie’s engagement.”

  “Governor Yeager’s son, right? Yes, I remember.”

  Titus glared at her, incredulous, but his tone remained brisk and businesslike. “Apparently he and Darrow had a falling out when he quit the police department to join the D.A.’s office. It seems Yeager has a personal vendetta against Darrow. I don’t suppose,” he went on coldly, “this is ringing any bells with you?”

  Gabriella cleared her throat. A personal vendetta? Where had that tidbit come from? “Is this information from Pete Darrow?”

  “No, it’s from my brother. Cam Yeager threatened him yesterday up on Reading Point. Pete Darrow says Yeager’s using you to try and ruin him. My brother and Lizzie Fairfax seem caught in the crossfire.”

  “Why would Cam Yeager want to ruin Darrow? They were partners.”

  “I’m here for answers, Gabriella. I have plenty of questions of my own.”

  Gabriella hadn’t witnessed what transpired between Cam and Joshua Reading yesterday afternoon, but she could certainly believe that Cam, having just come from an old man being assaulted, would have been in no mood for anything but straight answers. He could have threatened Joshua. But she had also read Lizzie’s journal. If Lizzie’s portrayal of Joshua’s character—his private character if not his public one—was on target, Gabriella could easily believe he had exaggerated Cam’s threat to make himself look aggrieved, the victim.

  And Pete Darrow would do whatever he had to do to cover for himself, including lie to both Reading brothers about why Cam Yeager was on his case.

  She met Titus’s hard gaze, wishing she hadn’t let him inside. “I can understand your concern, but I’m not sure exactly what you think I’ve done. So far as I’m concerned, Pete Darrow’s out of control. He’s followed me, he’s followed Lizzie, he’s beat up my father—”

  Titus frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean just what I said.”

  “Are you sure? Or is your judgment being influenced by Cam Yeager? I think he’s using you, Gabriella. I think he’s skewing your perceptions. He’s convinced you that whatever he’s doing is perfectly righteous and necessary and fair. My brother has undergone a terrible ordeal and doesn’t need this added complication of some feud between two ex-cops. And I think,” he said, getting to his feet, “that you know where Lizzie Fairfax is and won’t tell.”

  Gabriella took a breath to counter the tensing of her muscles, the indignation building up inside her. “Titus, I know this is a difficult situation for everyone, and I’m not defending Cam Yeager or Lizzie. But I doubt any of us would have wanted Lizzie to continue her engagement to Joshua if she had second thoughts. Perhaps she could have handled things better—”

  “Perhaps?”

  She sighed. “Okay, she could have. But we don’t know what was going on in her head.” Of course, Gabriella did. And she knew why Cam Yeager had it in for Pete Darrow and maybe for Joshua Reading as well. Guns. Blackmail. Just what Titus Reading would want to hear about before his second cup of coffee. “I don’t think anyone’s served by looking for victims and perpetrators here.”

  Titus, however, wasn’t ready to relent. “Then explain Cam Yeager.”

  “I can’t, except I know he didn’t have anything to do with Lizzie’s leaving.”

  “Just explain his involvement, Gabriella. Your involvement with him. Joshua’s sure he saw you two together on Reading Point yesterday after his encounter with Yeager. Why haven’t you mentioned him? You’ve violated my trust in you. I demand to know why.”

  She closed her eyes a moment, feeling the first twinges of a headache. When Titus left, she’d have coffee on the roof all by herself and not think about anything. She’d regroup. Then she’d tackle what she had to tackle, which right now looked as if it would include looking for a new job.

  What would Titus Reading do if she told him she’d just come from Cam Yeager’s bed?

  She opened her eyes. “I met Cam Yeager a couple of weeks ago. He was following Pete Darrow, who was following me.”

  Titus dropped back into his chair, not relaxing. “Go on.”

  “I didn’t know who Darrow was at the time or what he wanted with me. When I realized he and Cam had been partners, I thought he could give me some insight into Darrow’s behavior.”

  Titus’s eyes narrowed on her, some of his hostility easing. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “At first I didn’t know he worked for you and Joshua. When I found out, I just hoped it’d all blow over and I wouldn’t have to say anything.”

  “Obviously you were wrong.”

  “Obviously.” She chose her words carefully; she didn’t want to give the impression she was a hysterical ninny, and she certainly didn’t want to get into Joshua and Lizzie’s bizarre relationship. “Look, I know I should have told you Lizzie had brought my father up to Boston, and maybe I should have told you about Pete Darrow and Cam Yeager. I know you must be angry and disappointed and worried. But right now I’m doing the best I can. I don’t know where Lizzie is, I don’t control Cam Yeager, and I don’t know what Pete Darrow’s game is.”

  Titus propelled himself to his feet once more. He moved to the middle of the room, restless, frustrated, then spun back around to face her. She wondered if, deep down, he suspected his younger brother had some serious problems, problems that went beyond having hired a loose cannon to improve his security and having a fiancée hit the road on him.

  “Did you ever once consider that Pete Darrow’s job is to provide security for Joshua and myself and perhaps he was just doing that when he followed you?”

  Gabriella sank back against the sofa, her headache blossoming. “That’s what he told me. Is it true? You put him up to following me?”

  “I didn’t, no. I don’t have my employees followed. I am merely suggesting that Pete Darrow could
have been taking thoroughness to the extreme and investigating you on his own. With that attempted kidnapping still unresolved…Well, I really wish you’d have come to us with your concerns.”

  “Maybe I should have. But I didn’t.”

  “No,” he said, “you didn’t.”

  He walked to the living-room window and stared down at the street, his back straight and rigid. After last night’s rain, the skies had cleared; it was a warm, stunning day. Gabriella could think of dozens of ways she could have enjoyed it.

  “You’ve been an important part of our team, Gabriella.” Titus spoke without turning back to her, as if transfixed by something down on the street. “I value all you’ve done for the company.” He turned back to her, looking pained. He was a handsome man, hard-working, of the highest integrity so far as Gabriella knew, but he also tended to be unforgiving and somewhat rigid. But he knew himself; he had hired her in part to offset his conservative tendencies. He spoke softly, intently. “But don’t force me to choose between you and my brother, because you’ll lose.”

  “I understand.”

  His eyes bored through her. “I hope you do.”

  Judicious for a change, Gabriella said nothing. She and Titus had worked closely together for a year, had shared the same goals and values when it came to TJR Associates, and had accomplished a great deal. She respected him and had learned from him, and she’d worked hard for his company.

  And she’d lied to him.

  Was lying to him even now.

  She walked with him to the door. There was so much she hadn’t told Titus Reading. But she expected he knew it. He knew it quite well.

  Joshua Reading was in a rage and Darrow was tired of listening to him. They were on the deck of his house on Reading Point, the wind blowing hard and cold off the water. Joshua hadn’t lasted the morning at the office. Couldn’t concentrate. Big brother was driving him crazy. Too much to be in there with Lizzie and her journal missing. Now he’d just gotten off the phone with Titus, who’d been asking questions about his new security chief and his tactics. Getting nosy.

  “Well, that’s big brothers,” Darrow said.

  “I don’t give a fuck. He can goddamned well leave me the fuck alone!”

  Raging. Covering the same ground over and over. Darrow had tried bringing him back to the point: Where was Lizzie, what was she up to? No luck. Of course, Joshua was that much more testy because Darrow hadn’t mentioned he’d recovered Lizzie’s journal.

  But Darrow had had enough. In the middle of one of Joshua’s rants, he about-faced and walked off the deck.

  Joshua lunged, not touching him. Not even meaning to touch him. If he had, Darrow wasn’t sure what he’d have done.

  “All right,” Joshua said, breathing deeply, raking both hands through his hair. “I’m done. I’m sorry. I—the strain just got to me, that’s all.”

  Darrow turned back to him, thinking of Lizzie Fairfax and her honey hair and gold-flecked green eyes and her screams of pain. The bastard had betrayed her love for him. “You’re scum, Reading. Hell, you’re not even that good. I could toss your stinking ass in the ocean and smile while doing it, smile for days.”

  Joshua gave him a grim look of defeat, even resignation. “I don’t expect someone like you to understand me. In fact, I don’t expect anyone to understand. I accepted that a long time ago. I thought Lizzie did.” He sighed, feeling sorry for himself, his body limp with spent rage. “Well, that’s over now. We need to find her.” His voice was hoarse from ranting. “And we both know it, don’t we?”

  Darrow resisted hitting him. “Yeah, I guess we do. Mind if I get back to work?”

  “Not at all.” The supercilious sarcasm was there, never mind the hoarseness, the defeat. Darrow could hear it, could feel it crawling up his spine. “This Cameron Yeager, Darrow: I hope you’re planning to deal with him. If you’re not, I’ll be forced to deal with him myself.”

  “What’ll you do, get out a Gatling gun and go after him?”

  Joshua straightened, all macho and mean. “Don’t think I wouldn’t. I’m perfectly willing to defend myself, and I don’t need a Gatling gun to do it.”

  Darrow grinned. “But you’ve got one, just in case. Right, Joshua?”

  His face darkened, and he inhaled through his nostrils, fighting for self-control. “Find Lizzie. That’s all that need concern you.”

  “Almost be worth letting things get even more out of hand,” Darrow said, leaning back on his heels, “just to see you go after Yeager with one of your toys. He’d shove it down your throat before you figured out how to use the thing.”

  “Darrow, I warn you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  But Darrow backed off. His mind coughed up an image of Lizzie Fairfax’s tear-stained cheeks, of her stunned, near-catatonic look after a couple of hours in bed with her fiancé. He had to find her—before she changed her mind and came back to Joshua. Darrow had read her journal. He knew the hold Joshua had on her.

  “Relax,” he said, not too sarcastic. “I don’t care about your damned gun habit. I just should have known about it.”

  Joshua’s tension eased slightly but visibly. “You’ll find Lizzie?”

  “Sure. I’ll find Lizzie.”

  “And Yeager?”

  Darrow nodded. “I’ll take care of him too.”

  Gabriella was half listening to Scag yammer on about wild New England orchids in the comfort of his small, cluttered, furnished room on the second floor of his Cambridge rooming house. It was a big, drafty Victorian, much updated over the past century, on a tree-lined street of similar houses. She had called the locksmith, tended the orchids, made another copy of Lizzie’s diary and put it in a safe-deposit box, and called the Fairfaxes on Palm Beach. They hadn’t heard from Lizzie. They were sure she was fine. Disappointed she’d broken off with Joshua Reading, who seemed like such a nice man. Gabriella hadn’t bothered telling them how worried she was about their daughter. You worry too much about Lizzie, they’d say, as they had so many times in the past. Too many.

  So with Cam off to parts unknown, she’d decided to check on Scag. They could have sat downstairs in the living room, but he was afraid his housemates might come at him with another cure. Unless it was a fifth of scotch, he wasn’t interested. His head was on the mend. He vowed to be back in the greenhouse within the next day or two. Gabriella had to admit he looked much improved, the bruise where Pete Darrow had smacked him healing well.

  But lady slipper season was fast approaching, and Scag looked forward to getting out into the woods to see them growing, blossoming in their native habitat. He hadn’t been in New England during lady slipper season in years. “I know the yellows and whites are the rarest, but I’m happy with the ordinary pink ones. Pretty little devils popping up off the forest floor, aren’t they?”

  He went on at length about lady slippers, their habitat, various sightings, and Gabriella’s mind drifted.

  Then something he said caught her full attention. “Scag—wait a second. Can you repeat that?”

  He frowned at her. “I knew you weren’t paying attention.”

  “I was—I am…” She groaned, impatient. “Okay, I was only half paying attention and I’m sorry. Now, what were you just saying?”

  “I was saying,” he replied testily, “that Lizzie has told me about seeing wild orchids on some of the harbor islands. Her mother’s very involved in island preservation. Lizzie got into it for a while, remember?”

  Gabriella remembered. During her two years off with Scag, Lizzie had divided her time between Boston and Miami, her favorite volunteer work in both places involving preservation of coastal islands. That was before Gabriella’s argument with Scag had spilled over onto Lizzie and she’d moved to Miami full time.

  “Maybe when she turns up again,” Scag went on, “the three of us could head out into the harbor and see what we see. Hell, I know I’m still on the mend, but I’d like to see an orchid every now and then that’s not on a roof. No offense
intended.”

  “None taken. Scag, her last entry in her journal was about the harbor islands. I think she was looking forward to getting back into her preservation work after she and Joshua were married. Anyway, she mentioned in that last passage that she found the islands peaceful, mysterious, a good place to restore a proper balance and perspective. I just assumed she was being nostalgic. But what if she wasn’t?”

  Scag settled back in his rickety chair. “You’re losing me, kid.”

  Gabriella was on her feet, out of breath before she’d hardly moved. “This is it—it has to be it! If it’s not, no harm done. But I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she mentioned the harbor islands, not Paris, in her final journal entry.” She was mumbling to herself, Scag regarding her with curiosity if not outright consternation. She snapped out of it, jumping into action. “Can you call Cam? You’ll get his message machine. Just tell him—no, don’t. If Darrow intercepts the message it could be disastrous. Just have him call you. Don’t sound panicked or secretive because then Darrow will show up on your doorstep. Are any of your housemates around?”

  “If they’re not in class, they’re in the library or here studying. So yeah, a few of them are bound to be around.”

  “Good. I’m sure everything will be fine, but just in case.”

  Scag gave her a mild look. He wasn’t one to jump too far ahead of a situation. “What am I supposed to tell Yeager should he call?”

  “Tell him I’m playing out a hunch.” She wanted to leave it at that. It would serve him right. But too much was at stake, and tit for tat wasn’t her style. “Tell him I’ve gone out to the harbor islands to see if I can find Lizzie. I’ll try the Brewsters first; they’re in the outer harbor. They might be too rocky and barren, I don’t know. I know she’s mentioned Calf and Great Brewster. Give him those names. And Lovell, Gallop, Pettit—I think they’re in Quincy Bay. I’ll try down there too.”

 

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