Golden Lies

by Barbara Freethy

  "Its value certainly does."

  Paige sighed as her parents exchanged a glance of mutual dislike. Her father was right, though. Her mother rarely even looked at the inventory in the store. She was the financial wizard, the company spokesperson. David was the passionate art expert, the one for whom each piece told a special story. And Paige, well, no one had figured out her place at Hathaway's yet, least of all herself.

  "Oh, I almost forgot." David reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet pouch. "I bought this for Elizabeth's birthday, to add to her collection."

  Paige watched as he slipped out a small, exquisitely carved jade dragon that had probably been designed to fit on the top of a sword. "It's perfect. It will go nicely with the others," she said as her mother turned away. Victoria had never been comfortable talking about Elizabeth or acknowledging the tokens that David continued to buy each year in honor of his oldest daughter's love of dragons. "Do you want to leave that with me now?" she asked.

  Her father returned the dragon to its pouch. "No, I'll keep it until we go to the cemetery next week."

  "Really, David, these ridiculous birthday parties of yours. They're so distasteful," Victoria said with a frustrated shake of her head. "It's been twenty-two years. Don't you think --"

  "No, I don't think," David said, cutting her off. "If you don't want to go to the cemetery, then Paige and I will go on our own. Right, Paige?"

  Paige looked from one to the other, feeling very much like a wishbone. But she couldn't say no to her father. Elizabeth's annual birthday party was one of the few occasions they always spent together. "Of course."

  The phone on her desk rang. Paige pushed the button for the intercom, grateful for the distraction.

  "Mrs. Delaney is on line one," her secretary said.

  "Thanks, Monica." She put the phone on speaker. "Hello, Mrs. Delaney. I'm glad you called. We'd love to talk to you about your dragon."

  "I'm so excited," Nan said. "It's been such an incredible day. I can't tell you."

  Paige smiled at the enthusiasm in the older woman's voice. "I'm sure it has been. We're hoping we might persuade you to bring the dragon down to the store tomorrow so we can take a look at it. Maybe first thing in the morning?"

  "The morning is out, I'm afraid. Riley can't drive me until tomorrow afternoon."

  "That will be fine. In fact, we have a wonderful tea. I don't know if you've heard of it, but --"

  "Oh, yes, yes, I have heard of it," Nan said. "I've heard it's fantastic."

  "Good, because we'd like to treat you and a friend or a family member to tea and a private appraisal. What do you say?"

  "That sounds terrific," Nan replied.

  "Good, why don't we --"

  "Just a second," Nan said. There was a rustling, then a male voice came over the speaker.

  "Miss Hathaway, I'm Riley McAllister, Mrs. Delaney's grandson. We'll be entertaining offers from numerous dealers, you understand," he said in a brusque voice.

  "Of course, but I hope you'll give us a chance to make you an offer after we verify the authenticity of your piece."

  "Since your store has had people calling my grandmother all day long, I'm fairly certain we have the real thing. But we will not be making any decisions without doing considerable research into the company making the offer. The House of Hathaway isn't the only game in town. And I will not allow my grandmother to be taken advantage of."

  Paige frowned, not caring for the implication. The House of Hathaway had an impeccable reputation, certainly not one of taking advantage of little old ladies.

  "My grandmother will bring the dragon in tomorrow," Mr. McAllister continued. "She'll be coming with a friend and myself. We'll be there at three o'clock."

  "That sounds --" The dial tone cut off her reply. "Well, that was rude," she said, pressing the button to disconnect the call.

  "Why did you suggest the tea?" her father asked, irritated. "That's not until the afternoon."

  "She said she couldn't do it in the morning."

  "I just hope that doesn't mean she's taking the dragon somewhere else. I want that dragon, whatever it costs," he said.

  "Don't be absurd, David," Victoria replied. "We don't have an unlimited budget. Need I remind you of that?"

  "Need I remind you that I make the buying decisions?" David looked Victoria straight in the eye. "Don't get in my way, Vicky, not on this." And with that, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving Paige alone with her mother.

  "Always so dramatic," Victoria murmured.

  "Why do you think this dragon is so important to Dad?" Paige asked.

  "I have no idea. What's important to your father has been a mystery to me for some time." She paused. "Keep me informed about the dragon, won't you?"

  "Why?"

  "Because I run the company."

  "I've never known you to care about an old statue."

  "I care about everything that concerns this store, especially things that make your father believe he has a blank check."

  Paige frowned as her mother left the office, shutting the door behind her. It had been a long time since both her parents had been interested in the same thing. That couldn't possibly be good.

  Chapter Two

  Riley could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. They matched the goose bumps that ran down his arms as his every instinct told him that someone was watching them. He'd had the feeling the night before when he'd stayed at his grandmother's house because he hadn't wanted to leave her alone with a potentially valuable art object that had just been seen on national television. And he had the feeling now as he pulled his car into the underground garage at Union Square. Although it was the middle of the afternoon, and the garage was fairly well lit, his uneasiness grew as he debated his options.

  "Aren't we getting out?" Nan asked, a curious note in her voice as he flipped the automatic car locks back down.

  "In a minute." He scanned the area with a practiced eye. Running his grandfather's security business for the past four years had made him appreciate details. He looked for something out of place. Someone sitting in a car. A broken light. A shadow that didn't belong. Everything appeared normal.

  "What are you looking for?" Millie Crenshaw asked, sitting forward in the backseat.

  His grandmother's best friend and next-door neighbor had come along for the tea and, like Nan, seemed more interested in what type of food might be served than whether they should actually consider selling the dragon to the House of Hathaway. Riley would have preferred more time to research the company as well as some of the other companies that had contacted them. But his grandmother had refused to talk to anyone else until after she'd had the tea that everyone in San Francisco raved about.

  "He's looking for bad guys," Nan whispered to Millie. "He thinks someone might try to steal the dragon from me."

  "I just think you should be careful," Riley said. "Despite the fact that the thing is ugly as sin, quite a few people seem to want it."

  "Isn't it amazing that it was sitting in your attic all these years?" Millie said. "I went down to the basement yesterday and looked through all our things. I'm going to make Howard take me to the show the next time it comes to town. You just never know what you have."

  "That's true." Nan cradled the dragon in her lap like it was a precious baby. "I don't think I ever saw this until a few days ago. The attic was Ned's place. He was always puttering around up there." She looked at her watch. "We're going to be late, Riley. I think we should go."

  "I'll carry the dragon, just in case."

  "Just in case what, honey?"

  "Whatever," he said cryptically, not wanting to worry his grandmother. Despite the fact that everything looked okay, his instincts told him something was off. He hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake by not following those instincts. He got out and walked around the car so he could open the door for his grandmother. As the women exited, Riley perused the garage, acutely aware of every sound.

  A car
came around the corner, its tires squealing on the cement. He immediately threw himself in front of Nan, blocking her with his body. As the car sped by, he saw two teenagers in the front seat; they barely gave him a glance.

  "Good heavens, Riley," Nan said, straightening her dress. "You're strung so tight you'll snap if you're not careful. Maybe I should hold the dragon," she added, as he slipped it into a heavy canvas bag.

  "I'll take it. Let's go." He'd feel better when they were out on the sidewalk.

  Nan and Millie hurried along in front of him. They were both breathless when they reached the elevator that whisked them up to Union Square and the blessed sunshine.

  "Everything okay now?" Nan asked as they paused to get their bearings.

  "I wish you'd let me handle this on my own." He continued to look around as they made their way across the square.

  "And miss the tea? Not a chance." Nan smiled at him and stopped walking. "Now, tell me, how do I look? Any lipstick on my teeth?" She flashed him a perfect set of white teeth.

  "Beautiful," he replied. Nan was dressed in what she called her Sunday best, a navy blue dress, nylons, and low heels. Millie was a taller, more colorful version of his grandmother, dressed in hot pink pants and matching top, her bright red hair flaming in the afternoon sunshine. "You could both pass for at least sixty."

  "Oh, you're such a charmer," Millie said with a wave of her heavily ringed hand. "I don't know why you're still single."

  "Neither do I," Nan said. "I keep telling him I want to see some great-grandchildren, but he always pretends to be hard of hearing at crucial times. Isn't that right, Riley?"

  "What did you say?"

  "See," Nan said, exchanging a laugh with Millie.

  "Let's go." Riley led them around the corner, past Saks, Neiman Marcus, and the St. Francis Hotel with its glass elevators that ran up the outside of the building. They walked past the cable car stop, where a group of tourists was snapping photographs of one another. The House of Hathaway stood proudly on the east corner of the square. At six stories, it was nowhere near the most imposing building in a city of tightly knit skyscrapers, but its Roman columns and ornate gold carvings over the front doors were impressive.

  Riley held open one of the large glass doors, then followed Millie and his grandmother inside.

  Nan paused, putting a hand to her heart. "Oh, my, isn't this grand? I haven't been here in years. I'd forgotten."

  Riley wasn't a shopper, but he had to admit the store was amazing. It was cool, quiet, and well lit, with paintings on the walls, wide aisles between glass display cases filled with art objects, a thick carpet beneath his feet, and a magnificent central ceiling that reached up six stories and was capped by a stained-glass skylight. He felt as if he'd stepped into another world, one of money and culture, one in which he didn't feel particularly comfortable. .

  "Look at this dollhouse," Millie said, moving toward a nearby display case. "It has miniature people and everything. And it costs ..." Her eyes widened. "Three thousand dollars. Can you imagine? I think we sold my daughter's dollhouse in a garage sale for two dollars."

  "It's amazing what some people will pay for junk," Riley commented.

  "Hush, now," Nan said. "One person's trash is another person's treasure."

  "I guess that's why we're here." Riley was beginning to wonder just what his grandmother's dragon was worth.

  "Mrs. Delaney?"

  Riley turned and caught his breath as a beautiful young woman approached them. Her hair was long and blond, held back with an ornate clip at the base of her neck, her eyes a dark chocolate brown. She was dressed in a silk turquoise dress that clung to her breasts and hit just above her knees, showing off a nice pair of legs. He'd thought he'd lost the ability to feel sucker punched by an attractive woman, but apparently not. His breath seemed to be trapped in his chest, and he had the terrible feeling that his jaw had dropped low enough to hit the floor. He cleared his throat and forced in some air as his grandmother shook hands with the woman.

  "And you must be Mr. McAllister." She offered him a much cooler smile than she'd given his grandmother. "I'm Paige Hathaway."

  He should have figured that by the expensive jewelry and the hint of perfume that probably cost more than a month's rent on his apartment. Well, he'd always wanted what he couldn't have. Why should this be any different? "Miss Hathaway," he said curtly.

  "Will you follow me? My father is waiting for us in the lab." She led them to a bank of elevators nearby. "We're so glad you could come," she said as they waited. "Have you been in the store before?"

  "Not for some time," Nan replied. "It's a bit beyond my means, you know. But it looks lovely."

  "I'd be happy to show you around before you leave. We offer a variety of items in our emporium on the third floor that are quite reasonably priced."

  "That would be wonderful. I've heard so much about the tea. It's the talk of San Francisco, you know," Nan added as they stepped on to the elevator.

  Riley was bothered by his grandmother's eagerness. She was soaking up Miss Hathaway's charm like a dry sponge desperate for water. He supposed it was understandable; his grandmother's life had been difficult in recent years. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken her out shopping or when they'd shared a meal that hadn't been at her house or at the cafeteria in the hospital his grandfather had been in and out of so frequently. He'd neglected her. He hadn't meant to, but he'd done it all the same. He'd have to do better in the future.

  The elevator opened on the fifth floor. A set of glass doors labeled Executive Offices faced them, but Paige turned toward the right, leading them down a long hallway. Riley couldn't help noticing the discreet cameras in the hallways. There had been one in the elevator as well. Security seemed to be in good shape at the House of Hathaway. Paige punched in a code on the pad next to the door, then turned the knob. They stepped into an office with a desk and several chairs. The far wall was glass and looked into a lab area where two men were scrutinizing a vase. Riley noted a more sophisticated electronic keypad on this door.

  Paige tapped on the window, and one of the men turned. He had Paige's brown eyes—or maybe she had his. Riley didn't need an introduction to know this man was a relative and more than likely her father. A moment later, the door buzzed, and the dark-haired man walked out.

  "This is my father, David Hathaway," Paige said, offering introductions.

  Handshakes were exchanged as David greeted them with a charming smile. But there was a distance in his eyes when he looked at Riley that showed his distraction, or perhaps his focus, which was on the canvas bag in Riley's hand.

  "May I see the dragon?" he asked.

  Riley began to reach into the bag, but David stopped him

  "I'm sure you've handled it a great deal, but from here on out, I'd like to limit the number of hands that touch the piece."

  Riley watched as David pulled a pair of thin latex gloves from his pocket and slipped them over his hands.

  "We will be examining your dragon in what we call a clean room, an environment that we keep as sterile as possible to protect the art pieces," David said. "Our initial appraisal will run about one hour. Paige will take you to tea while you're waiting, and we'll meet after that."

  "I think I'll stay and watch." Riley felt slightly annoyed by the look of relief that flashed in Paige's eyes. She would obviously be happy to get rid of him.

  David didn't look nearly as pleased. "There's really nothing to see. We can't allow you in the clean room, and most of our work will not be visible from the window."

  "Why can't I go inside?"

  "Insurance, liability, you understand," he said with a vague wave of his hand. "Please enjoy the tea. It will be an experience you will not forget."

  "Oh, come with us, Riley," Nan said. "I want to share this with you."

  His grandmother slipped her hand through his arm, taking any idea of further argument out of his head. Before he knew it, the lovely Miss Hathaway was leading them back into the
elevator and up to the top floor, where the tearoom was located.

  When they stepped inside, Riley felt as if they'd just crossed the Pacific Ocean and landed in Beijing. The tearoom was filled with expensive mahogany tables, glass display cases showing ornate teacups and pots, paintings on the wall depicting scenes from the Far East. This dining room was a far cry from the restaurants where he got take-out potstickers and Mongolian beef.

  A woman in an Oriental silk dress ushered them to a table in a corner surrounded on three sides by ornate screens painted with flowers, fruit, and birds. She disappeared as quietly as she had arrived, leaving them to seat themselves at the marble and carved wood table.

  "Mr. Lo will be with us shortly," Paige said "He's a Chinese tea master, and he'll conduct a tea ceremony for you."

  "There's such a thing as a tea master?" Riley asked.

  "Absolutely. Although the Japanese tea ceremony called chanoyu is better known, the Chinese also have their own ceremony. Since your dragon is believed to have come from China, we thought you might enjoy the Chinese version."

  Riley leaned forward. "We've already dropped the dragon off with your father; you don't have to give us the dog and pony show."

  Paige bit down on her lip. Judging by the slightly chapped look of those beautiful pink lips, he suspected he'd just noticed another important detail. Paige Hathaway didn't always find it easy to say the right thing at the right time.

  "According to legend," Paige said, turning her attention to Nan and Millie, "in the year 2737 B.C., an emperor named Shen Nung was boiling some hot water while he rested under a wild tea tree. Some tea leaves dropped into his pot, and when he drank the hot water, he found to his surprise that he felt rejuvenated. He believed the leaves were responsible for this feeling of well-being, which then triggered further experimentation. This was the beginning of tea drinking in China. Today there are more than fifteen hundred types of tea to choose from. While more than twenty-five countries cultivate tea, China is still the main producer."

  "Really?" Nan said. "I never knew that. Did you know that, Riley?"