“Yes, we did, Da,” Jocelyn responded when Adele did not. “We really appreciate your buying them for us. We will be fine here with Mr. Meyers. How will we know him when he arrives?”
Rowan returned his attention to his daughter. “I have arranged for that. You two can go on into the café, and he will be directed to you when he gets here. I am sorry to leave before you are even settled at your table, but I must be at my meeting in a few minutes. I’ll return before the three of you are finished with breakfast, I promise.”
“That will be perfect,” Jocelyn replied cheerily, wishing Adele would get that frown off of her face. The girl could be so maddeningly single-minded sometimes.
Once her father was gone and they were alone and seated in the restaurant, Jocelyn urged her cousin to relax, saying she couldn’t always expect to take part in the world of business, which, after all, was man’s domain. As soon as she said it, Adele’s eyes flared, and it looked as if she was about to embark on one of her lectures. Fortunately, before she could get out a word, the waiter was leading a young man to their table and she had to hold her tongue.
Mr. Tad Myers was dashing indeed, with light blond hair, sparkling brown eyes, and elegant attire. He greeted each of them with a smile and a bow, and then he took his seat. It looked as though Adele was about to make the introductions, so Jocelyn squeezed her hand and jumped in to speak instead.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Myers. I am Adele Brennan, and this is my cousin, Jocelyn.” Jocelyn smiled at Adele and winked. Switching identities was a game they used to play whenever they were in the company of someone new and feeling mischievous.
“Pleased to meet both of you,” Mr. Myers said. “Please call me Tad.” Looking to Adele and assuming she was Jocelyn, he added, “Isn’t your father joining us?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Adele replied, giving her cousin a kick under the table. “My…father…sends his apologies, but he had some additional business to attend to and will be joining us afterward.”
To Jocelyn’s dismay, Tad looked extremely disturbed by this news. He excused himself from the table, saying he would be right back, and they both watched as he went to speak with the maître d’.
“Well, that was quite rude,” Jocelyn whispered. “I wonder why it matters.”
“Never mind him,” Adele hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Just trying to help lighten the mood. You need to relax, cousin. It’s only a lark. We’ll tell him the truth eventually.”
Tad returned to the table before Adele could object any further. Though he was clearly upset, he put on a friendly face and proceeded to order their beverages.
“Miss Adele will have black tea, I believe,” he told the waiter as he gestured toward Jocelyn, “and Miss Jocelyn would like Earl Grey. Just coffee for me, please.”
Once the waiter was gone, Jocelyn asked how he had known which teas were their favorites. As she said it, she realized that if they maintained their switched identities much longer, they would both be forced to drink a tea they disliked. Still, she wasn’t ready to call a halt to their game just yet. Adele continued to sit there quite humorless and stiff, and Jocelyn was determined to keep the ruse up until her cousin rediscovered her missing sense of play.
“Your uncle mentioned it last night. I make a point of remembering things about people.”
Jocelyn returned his gaze, knowing that his handsome brown eyes were something she would not easily forget.
Making conversation, Jocelyn asked Tad about his train trip, but somehow Adele soon managed to steer the conversation in the direction of business by asking him what title he held at Brennan & Company.
He explained that he had been hired right out of college to apprentice with one of their investment research teams and then advanced from there to his current position of associate. From the way he talked, it sounded as if he were intent on working his way up in the company—to the position of president, if possible—and that he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
Adele peppered the poor man with questions about the company, its investments, and more, though Jocelyn wasn’t sure whether she did so because she was actually curious about such boring things or if she was just hoping to keep the topic away from them and their identity switch. Either way, the man seemed happy to satisfy her curiosity—until she came to the topic of the business matter that had brought him to London and to yesterday’s meeting, from which she had been excluded.
In response, he waved a hand dismissively and said, “Oh, the details would bore a woman. Trust me. It was nothing all that interesting. Just investment talk and such.”
Bad move, Mr. Myers, Jocelyn thought, suppressing a smile. She expected smoke to come pouring from her cousin’s ears at any moment.
To keep any explosions at bay, she quickly jumped in and changed the subject, relieved when her father finally appeared at their table, looking far more relaxed and happy than he had when he’d left. He greeted Tad with a handshake and an apology. Tad asked where he’d been, a question so direct it could only have come from an American. When Rowan was as dismissive with his answer to Tad as Tad had been to Adele, the young executive’s expression seemed to darken a bit.
Rowan sat at the table, helped himself to a scone, and unwittingly began a conversation that addressed each girl directly, making it perfectly clear which was which. Once Tad caught on to the prank they had been playing on him, his scowl turned to an out-and-out glower.
Jocelyn was mortified. She’d only meant to lighten the mood, and instead her silly little game had backfired. When the waiter appeared and diverted Rowan’s attention, she leaned forward and spoke in a whisper.
“I apologize for our earlier introductions, Tad. It’s just a game we play sometimes, but I realize now it was utterly inappropriate in this setting.”
“I don’t appreciate being made a fool,” he whispered in return.
“I’m glad you know how that feels, then,” Adele countered. When the waiter walked away, she turned to her uncle, asking, “Were the interest rates sufficient enough for an investment, or does the lower potential for return from the purchase of bonds have you leaning toward stocks instead?”
From Tad’s startled expression, it was clear Adele had made her point. To make matters worse, for some reason Rowan seemed quite reluctant to answer her question and quickly changed the subject. An air of discomfort hovered over the rest of their meal, so Jocelyn was thankful when they were done and her father urged them to return to their room to finish packing.
“It’s time to check out of the hotel and get on over to Titanic,” he said jubilantly as he paid the bill.
While Tad headed to the hotel’s lobby to wait for them, Rowan walked to his room on the first floor and the girls started up the staircase to theirs on the third, Jocelyn apologizing to Adele as they went.
“I am so sorry, cousin. It seems I’ve made a mess of everything.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Adele said, surprising Jocelyn with her reply. “I’m glad you did it. Our Mr. Myers deserved exactly what he got in there.”
Then she marched on ahead, her anger showing in the heavy stomp of each step.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Kelsey was dumbfounded. There in the cab next to her sat the woman who was supposed to be far away in Vermont by now. Instead, here she was, acting as if sitting in the back seat of someone else’s taxi was the most natural thing in the world.
“What are you doing here?” was all Kelsey could manage to utter.
“If you want to know the truth, I took a gamble and I’m happy to say it paid off.”
Kelsey sputtered, trying to respond. She knew she must have looked and sounded like an idiot at the moment, but she could barely form a coherent thought, much less get that thought into words. She was about to tell the woman to get out when Rhonda spoke to the driver and informed him that he could go. The cab pulled into the traffic and began the long drive uptown.
“See,” Rhonda con
tinued, “I wanted to talk to you, but I was afraid if I called first you would hang up on me, and if I went up and knocked on your door or something, you might even call the police.”
“You better believe it.”
She nodded. “So finally I decided I was just going to wait out in front of your apartment building this morning till you came out and ask you if you wanted to grab some breakfast or something. But then when I got here, I realized a bunch of reporters were already waiting for you. I was afraid they would recognize me—by my hair, you know—and start asking me a bunch of questions, so I knew I couldn’t wait there with them. That’s when I took a gamble. I figured you would use the back exit out of your apartment building today. I’ve been waiting for almost an hour and a half. I was about to give up and go away when I saw a cab pull in at the curb and just sit there. I got in but told him to wait, that we were a party of two. I had a feeling you’d be down any minute. And I was right! You were, and now here we are.”
Her little speech finished, Rhonda let out a contented sigh and settled back against the seat, clasping her hands together over the giant purse she was cradling in her lap. Then she turned and looked over at Kelsey expectantly.
So many emotions were roiling around inside that she didn’t even know which one to latch onto. Fear? Anger? Defensiveness? At least this woman didn’t come across as unstable—not in comparison to her brother Rupert, anyway.
First things first, she told herself, trying to calm down and think more clearly. “Why aren’t you in Vermont like you’re supposed to be?”
Rhonda smiled, looking chagrined. “Well, not to put too fine a line on it, but technically I wasn’t the one sent away yesterday. Rupert was. I had no intention of leaving.”
“But the limo—”
“Aw, that limo zigzagged around town for a long time first, I guess to make sure nobody was following us. Before they started heading north out of the city, I asked the driver to drop me off at my hotel.”
“So what you’re saying,” Kelsey said slowly, “is that you’re still here in Manhattan but Rupert is up in Vermont as promised?”
“Exactly. I’m gonna go up there and join him tomorrow. I already got a rental car reserved and everything. But I just couldn’t go yesterday. I just couldn’t.”
“Because you needed to speak with me first?”
“No, because I saw a Broadway show last night and it was so good that I’m going back to see it again tonight. Plus, our room at the Wilton Plaza is nonrefundable.”
Kelsey didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. Taking a deep breath, she looked out the window to gauge their progress.
“Did you say the Wilton Plaza?” Kelsey asked, an idea coming to her. “We’ll be going right past there in a little while. We’ll drop you off as we do.”
She should have posed it as a question rather than a statement, but she’d meant her comment to sound just rude enough for the woman to get the point.
To her surprise, however, Rhonda’s face lit up. “Why, thank you! That would be real nice. Save me some walking.”
Leaning forward, Kelsey told the driver he needed to make a stop at the Wilton Plaza on their way.
“Okay, lady,” he said, putting on his blinker. “but that’s going to take us up Eighth. Heavy traffic this time of day.”
“No, stay on Tenth till you get to Forty-Fourth and then cut over.”
“Fine.”
Settling back in her seat, Kelsey looked over at Rhonda and asked what it was she wanted to talk about.
“Mostly, I just wanted to apologize for my brother’s behavior yesterday. That was a real nice ceremony y’all were having and a good speech you were giving. If I had known he was going to disrupt everything like that, I never would have let him go in the auditorium in the first place.”
“Let’s start there. Why was he at the ceremony? You’re both from Florida, right? What are you doing in New York? And how did you even know about the award?”
“The letter,” Rhonda replied. “Rupert got a letter a couple of weeks ago inviting him to come.”
Kelsey stared at her. How was that possible? Who would have knowingly invited these people?
“A letter?” she managed. “From whom?”
Rhonda blinked her long, thick lashes—probably extensions. “We don’t know. They didn’t sign their name.”
Kelsey swallowed hard. “Do you still have that letter? I’d like to see it.”
“Actually, I might just have it in here.” Rhonda opened her purse, which was almost a tote bag, it was so large—a black, faux-leather sack that seemed to be filled with a jumble of cosmetics, pieces of loose paper, and miscellany.
“See, Rupert’s the one who brought it, but I got so tired of seeing him read and reread the thing over and over during the flight that I took it away from him. I believe I shoved it in here…”
As she talked, Rhonda rifled through the bag, reaching into its depths and hauling out handfuls of flotsam and jetsam that she piled onto the seat next to her.
“Wait!” Rhonda pulled out a crumpled envelope, held it up, and squinted at it. “Yep, here it is.” She extracted the letter, smoothed it on her knee, and handed it to Kelsey. “Now let’s see if I can fit all this stuff back in here.”
While Rhonda reloaded her cargo, Kelsey studied the letter. Printed on plain white paper, it read:
Dear Rupert,
You should know that on April 3 at 4:00 p. m. there will be a ceremony at the offices of Brennan & Tate in New York City, during which the Tate family will continue to perpetuate the lie that Adele Brennan Tate survived the sinking of Titanic. You and I both know that Jocelyn was the one who survived, not Adele. I hope you will consider taking the opportunity to appear at this ceremony and put an end to the Tate family’s lies.
So you do not bear this burden alone, I am enclosing $500 in cash for you to use toward any traveling expenses you might have getting to New York City. I am also enclosing a recent article from the New York Times about Kelsey Tate, so you can see how she praises her great-grandmother Adele and tells the heroic story of her surviving Titanic. (What a lie!) Finally, I’m enclosing an invitation to the upcoming meeting, which you will need to show at the door in order to get in.
Bear in mind, your time is running out! If Brennan & Tate is sold, you may lose your right to inherit any part of Sean’s fortune. Don’t let this happen! Seize the opportunity to set the record straight now. Those of us who know the truth about that fateful night on the ship will be forever in your debt.
Sincerely,
A Friend
P.S.—If you decide not to go to NYC, you can keep the money anyway. I don’t have the nerve to sign my name to this letter and would prefer that you not try to figure out who it’s from. Thank you.
As Rhonda had said, there was no signature at the bottom. But whoever wrote it clearly believed that Adele Brennan Tate, a legendary icon of investing, also was a lying impostor.
“May I see that, please?” Kelsey asked, reaching for the rumpled envelope.
“Sure.” Rhonda handed it over and finished loading the last of her things back into her bag.
There was no return address printed on the envelope, but Kelsey studied the postmark, which had been stamped New York, NY, on the top, Mar 17 2012 in the middle, and 10006 at the bottom. It looked like any other letter mailed from Manhattan. The only significant bit of information that the postmark offered was the zip code, which was the same zip code as Brennan & Tate. In any other city in the country, that might not be so significant, but given that there were eight or nine different zip codes in Manhattan’s financial district alone, that really narrowed things down. If this letter hadn’t been mailed from their office, at the very least it had been sent from somewhere within a five- or ten-block radius of it.
“May I keep this?”
Rhonda frowned. “I’m sorry. I would say yes, but it’s not mine to give.”
Kelsey reluctantly tucked the letter inside the envelope an
d handed it over, though what she really wanted to do was drive to the nearest police station and have them dust both the letter and envelope for finger prints.
“Just do me a favor and don’t throw that out,” she said earnestly.
Rhonda assured her that she wouldn’t, but the sight of her shoving it back into that disaster of a handbag wasn’t exactly comforting.
“So has anyone from Brennan & Tate contacted you or Rupert in any way other than via this letter?”
“Recently? No.” Rhonda was shaking her head when she paused, eyebrows raised. “Wait. There was a message from somebody on my machine at home yesterday.”
“At home?”
“In Florida. They called my house yesterday morning, but we were already on our way here and didn’t get it in time. In fact, I didn’t even check my messages until just before I went to bed last night. By then, it was too late to do any good anyway.”
“Who was it?” Kelsey asked.
“She didn’t leave her name, but it sounded to me like the one who handled things with us the last time.”
Kelsey blinked. “The last time?”
“Yeah, when Rupert got himself all worked up and tried to say he wasn’t bound by Daddy’s agreement. I thought he was wrong, but I let him go ahead and give it a shot. You never know. I mean, if his theory’s right and Adele really was lying, then he and I got a lot of money coming to us. No offense.”
Kelsey was too startled and confused to speak. So many questions pounded in her brain that she couldn’t even figure out which one to ask first.
“Anyway,” Rhonda continued, pulling a cell phone from her coat pocket, “I don’t think I deleted it. You want me to play it for you?”
“The message from yesterday? Yes, please.”
Rhonda dialed into her voice mail and handed Kelsey the phone. “Just press one and then it’ll start.”
Kelsey did as instructed, put the phone to her ear, and listened:
Hello. I’m trying to reach Rhonda Brennan. It’s urgent and has to do with her brother, Rupert, and a meeting he may be attending in New York City later today. Please contact me as soon as you get this message. Please.
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