by Leslie Kelly
“A delightful man.”
Ida Mae piped in. “A wonderful man.”
“A charming man.”
“A…a well-cultured man.”
Max interrupted. “Yes, indeed, he is. But I must ask, have you ladies seen him anytime since Tuesday morning?”
Ivy looked at Ida Mae. “Tuesday…hmm…”
“Of course not. Why would we have seen him? He came to tea over a week ago, at least.”
“But you also saw him last Saturday,” Sabrina said, her baby blues wide and innocent. “Surely you remember, when you were downtown with him?”
Oh, man, if old ladies could turn their eyes into laser beams and fry people, the woman he was crazy about would be a million floating particles of Sabrina dust. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are referring to,” Ida Mae said, her tone icy.
“Not a clue,” Ivy added. Her forced, half smile emphasized the creases of heavy makeup on her cheeks.
Sabrina opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, another loud thump came from upstairs.
“The radiator,” Ivy murmured.
On this sweltering summer day? That made sense.
Allie picked Giorgio up off the floor and lifted him onto her lap—what little of it there was. “Thought it was rats.”
“Rats? Gracious what an unusual child you are,” Ivy said.
“Ivy…”
“Now, Ida Mae, do tell me, have you offered our guests some tea and cookies?” Glancing hard at Sabrina, Ivy added, “You would probably especially like the almond-flavored ones.”
“Ivy, will you be quiet!”
Rolling her eyes, Ivy leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles. “Oh, all right, play hostess your own way.”
Ida Mae stood. “Was that all you people wanted?”
Ida Mae’s way of playing hostess left something to be desired.
As for her question? No. Frankly, Max wanted some explanation as to whether these two were for real. He was beginning to think he’d fallen into an old movie and Bette Davis and Joan Crawford were about to scratch each other’s eyes out.
Another thump. This time, all five of them looked up. “I should go see about that,” Ivy murmured, rising to her feet.
Ida Mae grabbed her arm. “Oh, no, you will not. It’s my house. If anyone goes to see, it will be me.”
The two sisters drew closer, nose to nose. Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s best for us to go together, sister dear. Remember, share and share alike.”
And with those words, Max suddenly had a bad feeling. About what might be making those strange noises.
He and Sabrina exchanged looks over Allie’s head. In that instant, he knew she’d had the same immediate fear. Her lips were parted, color rushing into her cheeks. “Wait,” he mouthed.
Thinking quickly, he tried to come up with a plan—a reason to get the sisters out of the way so he could go upstairs and investigate. As it turned out, he didn’t have to. Because Allie, either by design or by accident, suddenly slid Giorgio off her lap and onto the coffee table in front of her. The dog skittered on it, his nails slipping around on the highly polished surface.
“Watch out for that animal,” Ida Mae yelled.
Ivy didn’t yell, she actually shrieked. “Daddy!”
Max had no idea what the woman was talking about—not until poor Giorgio skidded to the far end of the table and bumped into an old-fashioned, lidded urn. It—and the dog—flew off, landing on the hardwood floor. As they landed, the urn broke, the dog yelped and a puff of fine gray powder sifted up from the chunks of broken ceramic.
This, he presumed, would be Daddy.
“Argh!” the one in the flower dress shrieked. Launching toward the broken urn, she almost slipped in her high-heeled shoes. The old lady landing on the floor and covering herself with her father’s remains would certainly be the appropriate encore to today’s surreal performance, but she managed to remain steady as she dropped to her knees beside the mess.
Sabrina jumped up, obviously realizing what Butch had knocked over. “Oh, ma’am, I am so sorry.”
“Ivy…” said the other one, Ida Mae, who’d remained surprisingly calm.
“That beast, that monster,” Ivy ranted, her slim body shaking as she reached for the ash.
Ida Mae just sighed. “Ivy…”
“Your dog is dead, do you hear me?” Ivy lunged at Butch, who’d stayed on the edge of the sooty ashes, but she stopped short of crawling through them to wring his poor little neck. So she settled for pointing. “Dead doggy, that’s you.”
As per his nickname, the dog didn’t seem intimidated. In fact, he casually leaned down and sniffed at the mess, oblivious to the danger he faced at the hands of a deranged old lady.
Max knew he should stay here and sort this out. Help clean up. At least stand up for poor old Butch. But he was already edging toward the stairs.
“Giorgio, come,” Sabrina ordered. “Ma’am, I am so sorry. Is there anything we can do?”
“Just leave,” Ida Mae snapped.
“Oh, my God,” Ivy shrieked, even louder than before. “His finger—that monster has Daddy’s finger!”
For a millisecond, Max winced in shock. But common sense immediately made him realize the little hunk of fleshy colored meat in Butch’s mouth couldn’t possibly have come from the late Mr. Feeney. He knew enough about cremation to know that was impossible.
“Sister, it isn’t Daddy. Calm yourself,” Ida Mae said, finally showing some emotion.
“How can you be calm?” Ivy wailed. “Our father is being cannibalized.”
Max didn’t think it would be called cannibalism—even if it were truly Mr. Feeney’s digit dangling from Butch’s mouth—since Butch was a dog. But he wasn’t going to argue the point.
The older sister shuffled over and bent down, dropping one arm over her sibling’s thin shoulders. “No, he isn’t. I swapped him with the ashes from my grill so you wouldn’t hide him from me anymore. It’s a bit of hot dog, that’s all.”
The younger sister looked up, her tear-stained face looking hopeful, relieved. But her expression quickly faded and she staggered to her feet. “You did what?”
He sensed it was now or never. The sisters were distracted, about to battle over their father’s remains—as, apparently, they fought over a lot of things. So not wasting another second, Max dashed up the stairs two at a time.
What he was thinking seemed impossible. Ridiculous. But given the scene downstairs, the way they talked, the physical brawl last Saturday…anything was possible.
Running down the upstairs hallway toward the farthest door—which would be the room directly over the one he’d just been in—he grabbed the handle.
Locked.
From downstairs, the shouting grew louder, both sisters demanding that the other apologize. Apparently, they hadn’t even noticed he was gone.
He tried the knob again, twisting harder this time, but it didn’t budge. Hearing another muffled thump from inside the room, however, he whispered, “Fuck it,” and threw his shoulder against the door, breaking it in.
The force of the blow propelled him into what appeared to be a bedroom, all draped with lacy white fabric and dimly lit with a few fringed lamps. Dominating the room was a large four-poster bed complete with mosquito netting and a bedspread which, if he was not mistaken, graphically illustrated the Kama Sutra.
But he didn’t have time to process that. He was too busy processing what else he was seeing.
That would be his grandfather. Naked. Tied to the bed.
And grinning like a fool.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“BUT I DON’Twant to press charges,” Mortimer said for the dozenth time as Sabrina tucked a blanket over his lap.
Allie hovered nearby, a glass of cognac in her hand.
“Don’t worry about that now,” Sabrina said. “Let’s just make sure you’re comfortable. Can I get you something to eat?”
The old man, who looked none the worse
for wear after his kidnapping ordeal, shook his head. “That skinny one’s a good cook. But they’re teetotalers, so I do want that.” He nodded toward the glass Allie was holding, and she passed it over.
They’d arrived back at the house a few minutes ago. Mortimer, who’d immediately gone to dress, was now calmly sitting in his favorite chair, a little smile playing about his lips as if he’d rather enjoyed all the fuss.
Max was in the other room, calling his brothers and friends to tell them his grandfather had been found safe. Sabrina and Allie remained with Mortimer, watching over him protectively as they waited for the arrival of Chief Bennigan.
They’d called the police from Sabrina’s cell phone as they got in the car at Ida Mae’s house. The sisters hadn’t even seen them leave, hadn’t noticed Max coming down the stairs, holding his blanket-wrapped grandfather against his side. Sabrina, seeing them, had grabbed Allie and the dog, and they’d all taken off as fast as they could go.
Sabrina hadn’t gotten the whole story yet—as far as what Max had found in the bedroom in that crazy old lady’s house. Other than Mortimer. But she’d sensed by the looks exchanged between grandson and grandfather that it had been bad. The fact that Mortimer had been wearing nothing but a blanket made her amend that to outrageous.
“They didn’t…You don’t think they…” Allie whispered.
“Shh.” She didn’t want to think about it. Or picture it.
“Bennigan’s not here yet?” Max said as he entered the room, his gaze immediately focusing on his grandfather.
“I said there’s no need for the police.” Mortimer sipped his cognac. “No harm done, I’m just fine.”
“Grandfather, you were kidnapped.”
“Merely restrained.” Chuckling, he murmured, “in more ways than one,” then sipped his drink again.
Crossing his arms, Max leaned against the desk. “Are you telling me you went up to that room voluntarily?”
“No. I’d gone for tea, you see, on Tuesday. I was commenting to Miss Ida Mae that her spiced tea tasted so much like something I’d tried back in India, oh, years ago.” He thought about it, tilting his head. “Orange blossoms—it was fragrant, strong. Exotic.” Shrugging, he added, “The next thing I knew, I woke up exactly where you found me.”
“So they poisoned you.”
“Poisoned is a strong word.” He chuckled. “Been a long time since anyone’s slipped me a Mickey Finn.”
Yikes, good thing she hadn’t accepted the tea Miss Ivy had mentioned. Sabrina couldn’t believe the old man was taking this whole thing so calmly.
His grandson, however, was not. “Good Christ, Grandfather, they could have killed you.”
“Nonsense. They were protecting me.”
Rolling his eyes, Max threw himself into a chair and stared at the old man in disbelief.
“It’s true. They said they were concerned that someone wanted to do me harm. It was a public service, you know.”
“Public service, my ass.”
Mortimer finished his drink and set his empty glass on the table. “Gracious, you act as though I’ve never been tied up by two women before.”
Oh, that was way too much 411.
“The Feeney sisters are harmless to everyone except each other,” he added.
Sabrina wasn’t entirely sure that was true. “Mr. Potts,” she said, sensing Max’s growing frustration, “did the…ladies say why they were worried about your safety?”
“Not specifically—just that they’ve seen someone skulking about up here and were afraid he meant to do me harm.”
Guess the Feeneys hadn’t much cared if she, Max or Allie came to any harm. Then again, thinking of how they’d “protected” Mortimer, that was probably a good thing.
“I wonder if it was the same person I saw,” Allie murmured, sounding concerned. “You don’t think…do you suppose Peter…”
“But why?” Sabrina asked. “Why would he?”
“Maybe to mess with your heads?” Max stood and paced the room, his angry steps pounding on the wood floor. “We never did find out from the sisters what the hell he was doing there.”
“Oh, if you need information from Miss Ida and Miss Ivy, feel free to go back. They’re quite amenable,” Mortimer said.
“To kidnapping and assault,” Max muttered.
“I’m unscathed, I assure you.”
Pounding his hand on the edge of the mantel, Max snapped, “Grandfather, they molested you.”
The old man snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Allie mumbled, “Think I’ll go watch for the police.”
Sabrina was right there with her. “Me, too.”
“No need of that,” Mortimer said. “I have no secrets. I do not consider myself a victim. Imagine, at my age, having the kind of adventure I hadn’t expected ever to have again. Kidnapped by two beautiful women and used as a sex slave? Why, that hasn’t happened to me in years, not since that time in Singapore.”
Okay, she had definitely heard enough. Grabbing her sister’s arm, she led Allie out of the room, hearing Max’s deep groan as he realized he, alone, would get to listen to the gory details.
Shutting the French doors to the living room behind them, Sabrina stood with Allie in the foyer, watching out the front window for the police to arrive. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
“I just hope Mr. Potts has figured out what he’s going to tell them when they get here. The truth is a little…wild.”
That was putting it mildly.
“Sabrina,” Allie said, “We haven’t had a chance to talk privately about the Peter situation. I’m sorry I led him here.”
Rubbing a weary hand over her brow, Sabrina shrugged. “You don’t know that you did. He could easily have followed me.”
“I doubt it. I ran into him the night you left town.”
Her sister still had that unexpected note of calm in her voice. A few months ago, she would have anticipated at least a hint of a whine. Something, she realized, had changed in Allie since she’d arrived in Trouble. “I see.”
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot. He made some threats.”
“He hurt you?” She grabbed Allie’s shoulders.
Allie shook her head quickly. “No. He threatened that he might try to take the baby.”
“That’s ridiculous, he doesn’t want the baby.”
“I know. But it scared me enough to make me realize that I can’t just keep coasting along, focused only on the day this child is born. I have to think about creating some kind of future for us, so no judge would ever think I can’t be a good mother.”
Wow. That was very un-Allie-like.
For the past several months, since the day her sister had come to her tearfully, confiding her pregnancy—and who the father was—Allie had said nothing about what would happen after the baby was born, beyond how cute he or she was going to be. So she’d really been thinking about this.
“Are you considering going back to school?” Something else occurred to her. “Or reaching out to Mom? Because Max has me halfway convinced that we should try talking to her again.”
More than halfway convinced, really. During their conversation today, when Max had talked about how uncertain life was and how quickly you could lose someone you care about, Sabrina had realized she didn’t want to let her family disappear from her life. Not without trying one more time to keep them in it. “Maybe we could call her together. Or show up on Grandpa’s doorstep with a Baby On Board sign.”
Allie’s laugh was heartfelt and yet melancholy. It trailed off and she lowered her gaze, dropping her hand on her stomach. “Actually,” she said, her voice soft, “I’ve been thinking, maybe instead of going back to Philadelphia, I’ll stay here.”
Sabrina’s heart stopped mid-beat. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not. Mr. Potts has told me I could stay. We discussed it on Monday while I helped him organize his office.”
Wondering if her sister realized she was talki
ng about exchanging one type of dependency for another, Sabrina opened her mouth to reply.
But Allie went on. “Not as charity. He said he needs an assistant. Someone to help with his appointments and correspondence. To keep his schedule and help him manage his business day.”
“The baby…”
“Miss Emily already told me that if I do stay here long term and ever need a babysitter, she’s had experience in child care.”
“You can’t do this,” Sabrina said, already shaking her head. “You’re coming home with me. We have it all planned.”
Allie squeezed her hand. “I know you’ve been working so hard to take care of me—us. But, Sabrina, you don’t have to. I can take care of myself. When the baby’s older, I’ll go back to school. There’s a college campus in the next town and they offer Internet classes. I checked.”
She’d checked.
“With the credits from the community college in Ohio, plus the ones from this last year in Philadelphia, I only need a few more classes to get my Associate of Arts degree.”
“This is ridiculous. You can’t.” And she meant it. Allie couldn’t leave. Not after all these months of planning—anticipating. Her sister couldn’t just waltz out of Sabrina’s life, taking the baby with her.
They were the only family she had left.
“I know this is hard for you to understand, but the truth is, I like it here. I never hated Ohio as much as you did—other than living with Grandpa. And Philadelphia never felt like home to me. This place felt like home as soon as I arrived.”
Sabrina opened her mouth to argue some more, already picturing all the terrible things that could happen to her little sister alone in a new town. But before she could say anything, they both heard the sound of a car door slamming out front.
“It’s the chief,” Allie murmured, glancing out the window.
“We’re not finished talking about this. You don’t have to stay here, we can make it work. I’ll take care of you.”
Allie put her arms around Sabrina’s shoulders and pulled her as close as she could, her belly pressed between them. “I love you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”