Claire Gulliver #02 - Washington Weirdos

by Gayle Wigglesworth

  He nodded.

  “And back in San Francisco when I woke up in that warehouse. I knew I had to get out. I know! I know that was a normal reaction to finding yourself in a dark strange place, but that urgency wasn’t. I was frantically trying to escape. Something was warning me. Truly.”

  Now his expression was thoughtful.

  “Jack, I read a book a while ago about this. I can’t remember who wrote it but he said that in most cases of violent crime the victim has some warning signals of the pending disaster but they ignored them. I believe it. I’ve always said my Guardian Angel had to work hard. My mother used to tell me my father was up there looking out for me. Whatever! I know I’ve avoided tragedy more than once, and with no rational explanation.

  “And I’m telling you, I don’t think I’m the target. I don’t think the spinach was meant for me. Somehow we don’t have the right answer.”

  “But you heard the discussion earlier. Logically it is you.” Jack’s voice was gentle, persuasive.

  She shook her head stubbornly. “Think again. Think harder.”

  “All right! All right, I will. And I’ll talk to Marcus later and let him mull this over.” Then he shrugged. “Darn. Even if you didn’t like the consensus, it made everything a little easier to be focused on a target. Now we have to start over again.”

  She breathed deeply. He believed her. She was relieved. Now that they could find out the real reason. When they knew the reason they could locate the intended victim, and it wouldn’t be long until they knew who was masterminding these events.

  “Oops, I guess dinner is being served. We better get in there before they send someone for us.” Jack, with his hand on the small of her back, guided her toward the end of the straggling group headed for the dining room.

  The room was beautiful. This was the first time Claire had seen it with the table stretched to its limits. The candles were glowing and the dinnerware was gleaming on a snowy white cloth. MiMi directed them to seats down three from David and across the table from her seat at David’s right hand. Great Auntie Maude was given the opposite end seat instead of MiMi who preferred to sit close to her husband. Claire didn’t know how many guests were present, but assumed it was close to thirty as Mrs. Kramer told her they added another table if they needed to seat over thirty.

  Dinner was elegant and delicious. Course followed course as the conversation flowed. On Claire’s left was Boyd, David’s second cousin with his wife, Edie, sitting between him and David. Boyd was a retired banker who was charming and witty. His wife played straight man for him. On the other side of Jack was Hal and then some of the houseguests, while across the table near MiMi were some neighbors Claire had met at the Gala.

  It was in the lull, while the table was being cleared and the desert was being readied, that Edie spoke to MiMi. “My dear, I was so looking forward to your spinach soufflé, but you didn’t serve it last night nor tonight. Is David growing tired of it?”

  Claire stiffened and alerted Jack. MiMi and David both hesitated, but then David smiled. “You know Edie, I’ve gone a little off of spinach. I don’t think MiMi will be serving it for a long while. Guess you’ll have to cook it yourself.”

  Edie’s surprise was visible. “That’s hard to believe after all these years, but I know how one’s tastes do change. Why, Boyd used to love smoked salmon and...”

  Claire turned to Jack. “I guess I don’t blame him. It will be a long time before I’ll ever try that dish again.”

  Jack agreed with a crooked smile. “Not that I was so very fond of it anyway.” He turned to answer an inquiry on his other side leaving Claire to rejoin Edie’s funny story about Boyd and smoked salmon.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Claire came awake slowly, trying to let go of her argument with Liz. She knew it was only a dream, even though it seemed real. But the remembered frustration of dealing with Liz’s paranoid conviction that only she knew Rosa was conspiring with strange men in the Camden Market, was haunting. Especially because as it turned out, Liz was right. But Liz was a crazy lady. There was no doubt of that. It had been a relief to the whole group when she left in the middle of the tour because of an injury. Not that they didn’t all feel terrible she had been hurt as well as guilty about their relief.

  Still, Rosa had been up to no good. And Liz was the only person who suspected her from the very beginning.

  Claire turned her head and saw the peachy glow coming through the curtains. It was almost daylight, but too early to get up. So she tried to dispel the effect of her disturbing dream by consciously recalling Liz’s strange behavior. She personally had wondered if Liz was having a mental breakdown, or if she was just in that menopausal period. She had been thinking she would have to send her home, she was such a disturbance to the other members of the tour. So, in a way, her accident was fortuitous. But Lucy liked Liz. She had defended her when Claire questioned the wisdom of including her after witnessing her interaction with the other tour members in the orientation meetings. Now Claire wondered, if Lucy had led the trip, if Liz would have been so difficult.

  She told herself it didn’t really matter now. What happened had happened! And no wonder she dreamed about it. Jack’s retelling the story yesterday at the meeting brought it all to the forefront of her mind again. But it would go away, she told herself firmly.

  Now she was really awake. She decided to get up. It was going to be a big day around here. The Lickmans were having a cookout. All the remaining houseguests, plus others, would be coming for boiled lobster, clams, corn on the cob and potatoes roasted in the coals. MiMi had told her, Percy Imamura’s sons would be doing the cooking in a pit they would dig on the beach. But Percy and his wife would be attending as guests. Also several people from Vantage were coming, including Suzanne, Neil, Marilyn and her husband, and Wiley and his wife. Jack and Doug Levine were also invited. Claire was scheduled to leave on Wednesday and, as she was confined to the Lickmans’ estate at present, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to say good-bye to these people if it weren’t for the gathering this afternoon.

  It was still early when she arrived downstairs. It was too early for breakfast, so she let herself out the door to the terrace. She missed Tuffy. She knew he would have been pleased to accompany her on a walk.

  “Morning.”

  She was startled, then she nodded cordially. “Good morning to you too. Although I suppose you’ve been out here all night.”

  “No, just came on an hour ago. Going to be a beautiful day. Hot, but not humid. Good day for a walk.”

  She nodded, heading down to the dock, noticing the man was quietly speaking into his shirt pocket. She assumed he was notifying other agents she was about. She had forgotten about the FBI agents stationed around the house. It must be a terrible job, mostly boring but always dangerous, especially when things seemed the most boring.

  She walked to the end of the dock and sat down on the far end, slipping off her tennis shoes so she could put her toes in the water. She watched the water lap around her feet and the sun’s rays bouncing brightly on the water as it rose off the horizon. She was ready to go home. She missed her store and the customers and Mrs. B. She glanced at her watch. For once its beauty didn’t distract her. It was too early to call the West Coast, and besides, she realized it was Monday. The store was always closed Mondays. And it was a holiday. Mrs. B was probably over at her niece’s house for the day. No, she had two more days here and then she would go home. And she hoped she would quickly settle into her normal routine, which held enough excitement for her. There would be no more muggers, no more questionable chefs in the kitchen and no more worrying about mysterious plots; just the normal business of selling travel books to the locals planning their own adventures.

  Suddenly she wished she had stopped for a cup of coffee to bring outside with her. It would have tasted good here by the water. Yearning for home was futile. Retrieving her shoes, she headed back to the house. Now she was hungry. If she was lucky, she would have time
to read the paper before anyone else was about.

  * * *

  Claire laughed with Suzanne at the antics of the children. Today there were several other children for Amy and JoJo to play with, including Suzanne’s two nephews who had come with her. Right now, they were playing a slightly altered game of croquet with their own understanding of the rules, and having a great time.

  “Suzanne, I can’t begin to thank you for all the effort you put into making this such a wonderful trip for me. I can’t believe I saw as much or did as much as I did, and in such a short time. Perhaps you should change careers.”

  Suzanne smiled at that. “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want David to know he could exist without my help. But I’m glad you had a good time. I know the Lickmans were worried about that mugging. MiMi especially was distressed you wouldn’t get to see the sights because they insisted you come out here.” She looked around her. “Not that this was such a punishment, but it’s not the Capital. So it was easy enough to set up a few visits. If we missed anything we still have tomorrow to schedule it?” She arched her eyebrow at Claire waiting for her response.

  “Oh, no. I mean, I’m looking forward to a quiet day here with the family tomorrow. Anything I didn’t see, and I know there was a lot, I’ll see the next time I come. Actually, I bet I’ve seen more than most tourists do in a week.” She didn’t want to tell Suzanne she was basically confined to the property, as it was obvious Suzanne didn’t know.

  Suzanne chuckled. “I guess I did have you booked rather tightly. But was there anything you could have missed?”

  “Well, maybe the storm at the Lincoln Memorial.” She grinned, then changed her mind. “No, actually, I don’t think you scheduled that, did you? And frightening as it was, it was still a great experience. No, the whole trip was perfect. And it’s thanks to you for arranging it.” She reached out and hugged Suzanne, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

  Suzanne was embarrassed, but she looked pleased. “Well now, girlfriend, we’ll have to stay in touch. Maybe one of these days I’ll get out your way and you can schedule some of those wineries for me to see.”

  “Oh, what a great idea! Would you? Come to California, I mean? That would be fun. I’d love to show you my city and my bookstore and, of course, Napa Valley and Carmel...”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Then she smiled, her face lighting up. “Well, maybe. It would be fun, wouldn’t it? I’ll think on it, maybe after the first of the year.”

  “Hello, ladies. What’s going on?” Doug, looking good enough to eat in sandals, white shorts and a green and white striped polo shirt, joined them. “You both look cool and summery.” His eyes alight with appreciation lingered on Claire.

  She was glad she wore the sundress. Usually it wasn’t hot enough where she lived for sundresses. But when she and Lucy were shopping for the dress she wore to the Gala they had seen this. A cookout on Labor Day sounded like just the place to wear a dress such as this. So Claire had let herself be persuaded. Now Doug’s admiration made the price tag seem cheap.

  Suzanne excused herself to go talk to Wiley’s wife while Doug and Claire moved toward the dock, chatting about inconsequential things.

  “Hey, how about a boat ride?”

  Claire looked doubtfully at the little sailboat.

  “No, let’s take the other.” He led her past the motorboat to the little rowboat and got in, holding it steady against the dock with one hand while he helped her in with the other.

  She sat primly in the stern while he untied the rope, took up the oars and pushed them off of the dock. “I haven’t done this for a while, so I don’t expect we’ll go far.”

  “Well, I can take a turn if you get tired.”

  “Really? Okay, I’d like to be rowed around. Too bad I didn’t grab some grapes from the table.”

  She laughed, imagining him lolling in the back eating grapes as she rowed the boat.

  “Hey, you do swim, don’t you?”

  “Fine time to ask,” she retorted. “I don’t see the life jackets.”

  “I’m sure they’re under the seat. But don’t worry. This seems like a very stable little craft and, as you can see, no wind and no waves.”

  “Luckily I do swim and very well, if I do say so myself. When I was a kid we had this gigantic saltwater pool down by the beach in San Francisco. I mean really big. The pool was almost as big as this little cove. No lie,” she smiled at him, “the lifeguards used little boats like this to monitor the swimmers. I guess it was getting too expensive and, of course, the property must have been worth a fortune. They pumped the water in from the ocean and heated it, but I remember it was cold, cold, cold. When we learned to swim across the pool, we were good. It was a long distance. Every summer I belonged to a swim club there until they closed it down. I kept up the swimming at the regular pools and was even on the swim team in high school, but finally dropped it in college. There were just too many other things to do.”

  She noticed they were quite a ways out in the water now, moving along the rocky shore. The sounds of the crowd on shore barely reached them, just the screams of some of the gulls fighting over something on the rocks.

  “You know when you learn something like swimming or roller skating or bicycling when you’re young, the skills seem to always stay with you. JoJo is a very good swimmer and, while Amy mostly splashes around, she has no fear of the water so she’ll probably be good before long.

  “How about you? Where did you learn to swim?”

  “How do you know I swim?”

  “Look at you, so tan. That didn’t come from a tanning salon, did it? And you didn’t even hesitate about taking out a boat.”

  He laughed. “I guess I’m more transparent than I thought. “ He began telling her about growing up on Cape Cod and the delights of his summers, which were now his favorite recreational activities. He water-skied, swam and sailed whenever he had the chance and even rowed when he was in college.

  “So I suspect my offer of a turn at the oars won’t be necessary. Thank goodness!”

  They rowed in silence, enjoying the light breeze on the water that tricked them into thinking they weren’t cooking in the sun.

  “You did use sunscreen, didn’t you?”

  “I’m slathered with it. Where I live outside San Francisco, we do have sun and heat, but I’m in the store most of the time. So I’m super careful when I do get out. I don’t want to go home blistered.”

  He changed the subject. “I spoke to Wiley earlier and he told me about the meeting here yesterday. I’m very concerned about this situation, but it sounds like they are taking it seriously and doing what they can to keep you safe. How do you feel about it?”

  She stared at the shoreline. The children looked very far away.

  “I’m ready to go home. I had a wonderful time here in spite of the mugging and the problem with the Gala, but you know...at home I feel safe. And no matter what the Lickmans say, I can’t help thinking I somehow led this danger right into their home. I know these things could happen anywhere, but it doesn’t seem like it happens at home. I’m feeling pretty anxious.”

  He nodded, his face serious. “Well, don’t take any chances. This Marcus Ng is pretty high powered in the Bureau. I’m sure he’s checking everything. And while it might feel confining, I’m sure keeping you on the estate for a few days is the right thing to do.

  “Oh, oh, I see the guys digging up food from the pit. We’d better head back. We certainly don’t want to be late for lunch.” He skillfully used the oars to turn the little boat and reverse their direction, letting the tide assist him in returning to the dock.

  Then, as they sauntered up the lawn to the crowd gathering around the tables heaped with food he said, “Look, I’m leaving tomorrow for London for a couple weeks. I have to say I’m a little uneasy about leaving and not knowing you’re completely safe. But I guess I have to do my job and rely on Marcus, Wiley and Jack to do theirs. But if you need me, call me. I wrote my numbers down for you. And I wil
l be out your way, most likely before the end of the year. You promised me a dinner date, remember?”

  She took the card and slipped it in her pocket, nodded her agreement and then turned in response to Masie, Wiley’s wife.

  “I saw you out there, sailing around like the Queen of Sheba. I bet it was cooler there.” She fanned herself vigorously with one of the fans thoughtfully laid out on the tables. “So Doug, are you providing the rides for the day? If so, I’m next.” She laughed at his horrified expression. “Alright. Maybe I can get Wiley out there. I’ll just tell him how manly you looked behind the oars. He might fall for it.”

  Marian, coming up at the end of that comment, shook her head. “No way. He’s not going to fall for that. Rowing a boat is work. Give it up.

  “I see a nice shaded table over there I’m going to claim. Get your food and come back.” Then as they turned toward the tables she added, “And remember to save some for me.”

  The lines moved very quickly down both sides of the tables and the metal trays provided for the guests filled quickly with clams, potatoes, corn on the cob and what seemed to Claire to be a huge lobster. When they arrived back at their table, two other couples had arrived and at Marian’s suggestion they all introduced themselves. Both couples were members of the Yacht Club and one couple was also a neighbor.

  Marian reminded them to save her place and one for her husband and left to get her plate. A waitress brought the utensils, big lobster bibs, melted butter and salt and pepper. She took their drink orders and left promising to return right away with the drinks and bread and butter.

  “As if we need more to eat,” Claire muttered, eyeing the lobster warily.

  “Have you done this before, Claire?” Masie asked.

  “No, but in San Francisco, we have Dungeness crab which takes a little doing. I’ll give this a try. But I hardly know where to start.”