A Bought Bride

by Agnes Alexander

  “I wish that was true, Calvin.”

  “It’s true, Quinton.” John looked across the water. The morning sun made it dance with millions of sparkles. “I’m going to take Marilyn on a nice vacation when we get back. I think I owe it to her. It’s time I became the responsible husband her old man said I’d never be.” He chuckled. “I’m swearing off other women and I’m going to have a nice long romance with my wife, if it’s not too late.”

  “Can it really be that easy?”

  “Yes, Mr. Kincade.” Calvin smiled. “Can I say something else?” Quinton nodded and he went on. “I’ve wanted to knock some sense into you ever since you got back from your honeymoon. I knew right then you’d fallen in love with Mrs. Kincade, and it made me furious inside every time we had to go to the condo.”

  “So, you wanted to cream the boss?”

  “I sure did, Sir, but what could I say? You control my job.” He chuckled. “I admit it gave me a jolt when you were only there twenty minutes or so the first time we went after your honeymoon.”

  “Let me give you a bigger jolt, Calvin. Maddie was dressed in a very sexy outfit that night. One that most men would drool over and I couldn’t even get it up.”

  “You’re kidding.” John stared at him. “Is it still out of commission?”

  “Not at all. I went home and had dinner with Jillian, then made love twice with my wife before we went to sleep.”

  “Any problem since?” John asked.

  “Nope.” Quinton laughed then grabbed his head. “I pretended it was, though.”

  “Why in God’s name would you do that?” John stared at him.

  “It seemed the right thing to do at the time. It was during the next visit to the condo. I started out mad, but Maddie got me all stirred up. I could have done it in a heartbeat, but I told Maddie I still had the same problem. For some reason, all I wanted was to go home and make love to Jillian.”

  “Did you?”

  He grinned. “Remember how late we got to the country club?”

  “You mean…”

  “Yep. There’s something about an empty department store and a fur coat on the floor and…well, use your imagination.”

  “Damn, Quinton. You always had a great imagination.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He pulled his chair to an upright position. “Why don’t we three men go in and scramble some eggs or something then go fishing. I have some fishing gear here, and I think a few hours on the lake might do us all good.”

  “You said you were maybe going to call Jillian later today. Are you?”

  “I sure am, John. And before you ask, I’m going to tell her we’ve finished our business and I’ll be home in time tonight to meet her on the balcony before she goes to bed.”

  “The balcony, huh?” John raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, John. Put a little excitement in your life and take Marilyn outside. The bedroom isn’t the only place to make love to your wife.”

  “I think that’s a great idea, Sir.” Calvin smiled.

  “So do I, Calvin. So do I.”

  Chapter 27

  Jillian sat huddled on the glider. It was a few minutes after ten. Though Quinton told her he’d be home by eleven, she hoped he’d be early. She smiled into the night and recalled the conversation.

  “Hi, Jillian. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get in touch.”

  “That’s okay, Quinton. How are you?”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. Do you mind if I ask how much longer you’ll be gone?”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll be home tonight.”

  “Wonderful. I can’t wait to see you.” Jillian bit her lip, afraid she’d say too much.

  “It may be eleven by the time I get there. Do you mind waiting up?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then how about meeting me on the balcony?” He was almost whispering.

  “I’ll be in the glider, wearing my nightgown and I’ll have a chilled bottle of your favorite wine waiting on the table,” she whispered back.

  “Perfect. You know that place is special to us.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.” She hoped this didn’t sound too forward.

  “Great. How about wearing the wedding night gown? I like throwing that gown on the floor.”

  She laughed. “I’ll have it on.”

  “Jillian, there’s something I want to tell you.”

  “What is it, Quinton?”

  He paused. “I think I’ll wait and tell you in person.”

  “Oh, now I’ll worry about what it is.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s a good thing. At least, I hope you’ll think it is.”

  “Give me a hint.”

  “It has to do with feelings.”

  She smiled to herself. “I hope those feelings are good.”

  “They are. In fact, I might as well say it.”

  “Wait.” Jillian sighed. “Can it be said in three words?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then wait until you can say them in my ear. I want to feel your arms around me as you say them.”

  “Then, I’ll say them to you around eleven tonight. In the meantime, think about what they could be.”

  “I will, and you think about me saying them back to you.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear, Jillian. I’ll try to get there before eleven.”

  A noise at the bottom of the winding metal steps to the terrace below interrupted her flashback. She smiled and her heart beat faster as the steps grew closer to the top. She was too excited to wait for him in the glider. She jumped up and was crossing the balcony when he came into view.

  She stopped short. Though she couldn’t see the face, the form was different. “You’re not Quinton!” she screamed.

  A hand went across her mouth and she smelled chloroform. Then there was blackness.

  * * * *

  “Go ahead and pull the car around to the garage, Calvin. I’m going to the back of the house and up the steps to our balcony,” Quinton said when they pulled into the drive.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Thanks, Calvin. Now, you’re going to think about our conversation, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely, Sir. I’m going to talk it over with Gloria, but I’m sure she’ll like the idea of me working for the department store in the computer section.”

  “I hope she will. I also want you to tell her to go ahead and finish her nurse training. You need to get things going in your life while you’re still young.”

  “We’ll do that, Sir. As soon as I talk to her, I’ll let you know what she says.”

  “Good. See you in the morning.” Quinton chuckled. “I won’t be going to work early. I want to sleep in with my wife.” He got out of the car and headed across the back lawn. He took the winding steps to the balcony two at a time.

  “I’m on my way, my love. You’d better be ready.”

  There was no answer, but he didn’t expect one. He knew she’d wait in silence, probably with a glass of wine for him. Getting to the top step, he was surprised to see the balcony empty. A little disappointed, he glanced at his watch. The lighted face told him it was ten-fifty. He was early. Jillian was probably getting ready to come out.

  When he noticed the bottle of wine in the crystal cooler, he wondered if he should take a seat and wait for her then decided it might scare her to find him here when she expected him later. He went into their bedroom.

  “Honey, I’m home.” It came out in a loud whisper.

  There was still no response. He found the dressing room empty. Maybe she was still downstairs.

  He opened the door to the hall, but the house seemed quiet. Only the lights in the entry were burning. Where was Jillian?

  Quinton began to feel uneasy. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Going downstairs, he flipped on some lights. “Jillian,” he called.

  There was no answer.

  Though he hated to do it, he went toward the garage. He knew Calvin wou
ld meet Gloria as soon as he could. There was a light coming from under the door of the chauffeur’s room above the garage. He hoped he wasn’t interrupting the couple as he knocked on the door.

  “Who’s there?” Calvin’s voice called.

  “It’s me, Calvin. I need to speak to Gloria.”

  He heard some muttering, then the door opened. “Yes, Sir?”

  Thank goodness. Gloria’s still dressed. “I’ve got to ask you some questions, Gloria.”

  “What’s wrong, Sir?” Calvin came up behind her. He’d removed his coat, but was still wearing his shirt.

  “What time was it when you last saw Jillian?”

  “About nine-thirty or ten. I took her some chilled wine and she put it on the balcony.” Gloria blushed. “She said you were meeting her there, Sir.”

  “I was supposed to.”

  “She was expecting you about eleven, but she said you might be early and she wanted to be ready. I asked her if she wanted me to pour her some wine, but she said she was going to wait and have it with you.”

  Quinton’s heart began to race. “She’s not there, and I can’t find her.”

  “Maybe she took a walk on the grounds,” Calvin suggested.

  “She wouldn’t do that,” Gloria answered him. “She had on her night clothes.”

  “Something’s happened. I’m going to call the police.” Quinton turned and went down the steps.

  Calvin and Gloria followed him.

  By the time he got back in the main house he heard the doorbell ringing. “Maybe that’s her.”

  Bertram was on his way to the door, but Quinton beat him to it. He jerked it open.

  A man and a woman stood there.

  “Mr. Kincade?”

  “Yes.” Quinton wished he could keep his heart quiet. He was sure it was drowning out the conversation.

  “We need to speak to Mrs. Kincade, Sir.” He held up a badge. “I’m detective Covington and this is detective Kramer.”

  “Why do you want to see Mrs. Kincade?” He was stunned.

  “We need to question her, Sir.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s in connection to the murder of Maddie Jones.”

  Chapter 28

  Quinton couldn’t convince the officers that Jillian was missing. With his permission, they searched the house. He was half hoping they’d find her. The other half was afraid if they did, she’d be dead, too.

  He called John, but it took John almost an hour to get to the mansion. “Where the hell have you been?” Quinton demanded as soon as he came in the front door. “I was wooing my wife in the backyard like you told me to do.”

  “What happened, Quinton?” Marilyn asked as she followed her husband in.

  “I don’t know. I got home like we planned, and Jillian wasn’t here.”

  “I last saw her at nine-thirty or ten,” Gloria volunteered.

  “Please, everyone. Come in and have a seat,” Detective Covington said.

  As soon as everyone was seated, Detective Kramer asked, “Could she have gone out after the maid last saw her?”

  “No, Ma’am,” Gloria replied. “She was sitting on the balcony waiting for Mr. Kincade.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “Is that a habit or something?”

  “My wife and I often sit on our balcony at night. I’d been away and we’d arranged to meet there about eleven tonight.”

  “That doesn’t make a lot of sense. You have this lovely home. Why would you not meet at the front door?” Kramer crossed her long legs and eyed Quinton.

  “The balcony is a special place for us. It’s where we can be away from the rest of the world.”

  “Did anyone else ever meet her on the balcony?” the detective asked.

  John stood. “Lady, get your head out of the sand and listen to the man. He’s a newlywed and is too nice to tell you that the balcony is where he and his wife like to make love. He’d been gone two days. He couldn’t wait to get back to her, and she was as anxious as he was.”

  Detective Kramer blushed and swallowed.

  Detective Covington broke in. “How long has your new wife known about your relationship with Maddie Jones?”

  “She has known about Miss Jones almost since she and her husband came back from their honeymoon.” Marilyn pushed her shoulders back and stared at the officer while John and Quinton stared at her.

  “How do you know this, Mrs. Von Cannon?”

  “She told me.”

  “Why would she tell you?”

  “Because we’re friends. Friends tell each other things.”

  “I don’t tell my friends about my personal life.”

  “That’s because you’re a man, Mr. Covington. Women are different. They have feelings.”

  He kind of blushed at this remark and turned back to Quinton. “Mr. Kincade, when and where did you go on this business trip?”

  “Actually, we went yesterday and it was to Lake Lure.”

  “We? Who was with you, Mr. Kincade?”

  “My attorney, John Von Cannon, and my chauffeur, Calvin Hines.”

  The officer swallowed. “Did anyone else see you there?”

  Calvin said, “Mr. Johansson, the shopkeeper saw me when I went for supplies.” He stood up straight. “I have the receipts because cook demands I bring them back after going to the lake. I can also show you the tickets where I bought gas. Those go in a file for Mr. Kincade’s taxes or something.”

  “And I have the cell phone records where I called my wife and I’m sure the record will be on the phone bill at the cabin where Mr. Kincade called his.” John glared at Detective Covington. It was easy to see the attorney and the officer had tangled before. “Is there any further proof you need to see that Mr. Kincade didn’t have anything to do with the murder of Miss Jones, or the disappearance of his wife?”

  “No, Mr. Von Cannon, there isn’t. Now I need to find out where Mrs. Kincade is so I can question her.”

  “We all want to know where Mrs. Kincade is.” Melba had come into the room and was wringing her hands. “She’s such a dear person.”

  “How long have you known Mrs. Kincade?”

  “Since Mr. Kincade brought her home from their honeymoon. She’s the nicest person in the world to work for.”

  “Have you ever seen her lose her temper,” Detective Kramer took up the questioning.

  “No, Ma’am. She’s as gentle as they come. When Mr. Kincade is late, she doesn’t complain or anything. She always says she knows he has a good reason.”

  “Could that reason be because he was visiting Miss Jones?”

  “She didn’t know about Miss Jones.” Melba stuck her chin out and set her eyes in a blank stare.

  “But Mrs. Von Cannon said she did know about her.” She looked at Melba.

  “I don’t know about that. She never said anything about it to me.” Melba’s expression didn’t change.

  “Does she always confide in the servants?”

  Everyone on the staff stiffened.

  “We don’t have servants, Detective Kramer,” Quinton said. “These fine people work for us.”

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled and turned back to Melba. “Was Mrs. Kincade at home all day?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “Where was she?”

  “I don’t question Mr. or Mrs. Kincade when they leave the house. It’s none of my business where they go.”

  Bertram broke in. “Mrs. Kincade asked me to drive her over to Mrs. Von Cannon’s house this morning.”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you wait for her?”

  “No. She said she’d call when she was ready to come home.”

  “Did she call?”

  “No, Ma’am. Mrs. Von Cannon brought her home.”

  “What time was this?”

  “About five,” Melba said. “I was cooking dinner and she came into the kitchen and got a glass of tea.”

  “Did she leave after Mrs. Von Cannon brought her home?
”

  “No.”

  “I see.” The detective turned to Marilyn. “Is this true?”

  “Yes, it’s true. I told you earlier we were friends. Mrs. Kincade missed her husband and she didn’t want to be alone. We spent the day together.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I don’t know. We had coffee at the house.” She glanced at John. “I’m sorry, honey, I dropped the cream pitcher to your mother’s china. It shattered all over the kitchen floor.”

  “That’s okay. I never cared much for that china anyway.”

  “I don’t need to know about your china, Mrs. Von Cannon,” Detective Kramer said. “I’m more interested in what you and Mrs. Kincade did.”

  Marilyn stuck her nose in the air and gave the detective an icy stare. “Well, you know about the china whether you want to or not. As for what we did, what difference does it make if we went for drinks or went to a porn movie or met our lovers or simply sat in the park as women often do? We were together. That’s all you should be interested in.”

  “We’re just trying to find out where Mrs. Kincade could be, Mrs. Von Cannon.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do. Somebody has taken my wife, and I want to know who, and I want to know why.” Quinton stood. “While you’re trying to get your act together, I’m going to call the chief. Maybe he’ll think my wife’s disappearance is more important than these dumb questions you keep asking.”

  * * * *

  The rest of the night dragged for Quinton. He went to the room he shared with Jillian about three, but couldn’t sleep. He was sorry Maddie had been killed, but, at this time he was more concerned with Jillian’s disappearance.

  He knew from the things the detectives said, they thought Jillian had killed Maddie in a rage and run away to keep from being arrested. He, and anyone else who knew Jillian, thought this ridiculous. Jillian would never hurt anyone. But someone might hurt her.

  Damn. Why wasn’t I here to protect her? She’s so sweet and innocent. A woman like her would be vulnerable to anyone who came along and gave her a sob story. He knew this, because he’d done it himself. It didn’t matter that his story was true. He’d used it to play on her sympathy. Otherwise he wouldn’t be married to her.