A Matter of Trust

by Ciana Stone

  “I have no doubt, my dear.”

  Osgood appeared at the door. “Dinner is served, sir.”

  Richard stood. Nikki got to her feet and walked over to put her glass in the sink behind the bar. As she rounded the corner of the bar, she saw someone crouched behind it, not realizing it was Maxwell. She jerked to a stop but recovered and stepped around Maxwell to set the glass in the sink.

  Unfortunately, her reaction did not go unnoticed. Richard walked over and looked around the bar.

  “Maxwell!”

  Maxwell was red with embarrassment, not to mention being furious at the picture his father had painted of him to Nikki. With his fists clenched he jumped up.

  “Osgood, see Maxwell to his room immediately!”

  Osgood moved toward Maxwell. “Come, Maxwell, let’s go upstairs. I’ll read to you if you like.”

  Maxwell pushed him away. Osgood stumbled, reaching out to grab the bar for support. Nikki, trapped between the two, tried to get to Osgood to keep him from falling. She succeeded only in getting her feet tangled up and falling against Osgood.

  Osgood hit the floor with her on top of him. Rolling to the side, she yanked her skirt down and climbed to her feet. By that time Richard was shouting for someone to call Steve and have him come to the main house to assist Osgood and to have Louise find Maxwell’s medication.

  At the word medication, Maxwell vaulted the bar and pushed Richard out of his way, making for the door at a dead run. Richard teetered off balance for a moment then recovered and set off in pursuit.

  Nikki took off after them with Osgood on her heels. She saw them starting up the main stairs. Louise ran in with a small box. “His medication!” she shouted to Osgood.

  Osgood grabbed the box and followed Nikki up the stairs. Nikki reached the second floor just as the door to Max’s room slammed. Richard pounded on the door with his fist.

  “Open this door immediately! Maxwell, I demand you open this door!”

  Nikki ran up and grabbed his arm in mid-swing toward the door. “Stop!”

  Shocked, Richard froze.

  “Please, “Nikki pleaded. “ You’re only making it worse.”

  Richard shook her hand from his arm and looked at Osgood who trotted toward the door, breathing hard. Osgood pushed by her, producing a key to unlock the door. Richard nudged her aside as he followed Osgood into the room. A moment later the driver, Steve, ran by her into the room. Nikki started in, but Steve closed the door in her face.

  It sounded like a battle was taking place. The strange part was the only voices were those of Richard, Osgood, and Steve. Nikki thought it bizarre that Maxwell wasn’t making a sound.

  Abruptly the commotion died. Moments later Steve and Richard emerged from the room. Steve passed by Nikki without a word and went down the stairs. She looked up at Richard as he straightened his clothing.

  “I apologize,” he said, somewhat out of breath. “It appears we discontinued his medication too soon. I give you my assurance there won’t be a repeat performance. Now, shall we dine?”

  Nikki shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t have much of an appetite. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll just go to bed.”

  She turned and walked away, at that moment not caring if Mr. Weston wanted to fire her. What she’d just seen made her sick. What kind of father treated his son that way? As she reached the top of the stairs she looked back. What had she gotten herself into?

  With one eye on the early morning news, Mark Robinson dialed Helen Weston’s private number in France. It rang half a dozen times before Helen answered.

  “Yes?”

  “Helen? Mark. Is this a bad time?”

  “No, not at all. Just a moment please.”

  Mark took a drink of coffee while he waited. Nearly thirty seconds passed before Helen came back on the line.

  “Forgive me, Mark. I needed more private surroundings. I take it you have something to report?”

  Mark smiled. His news was nothing major, in fact it was nothing at all. But there were times when even the most insignificant thing could be made to seem monumental. It was all in presentation.

  “Nothing earth-shattering. Merely wanted to make sure you were kept fully informed. It seems that your suspicions may have not been entirely unfounded.”

  “He is having an affair with that little trollop!”

  “No. At least not yet. However, he may well be trying to steer things in that direction. According to our source inside, Richard made a point of informing the entire staff that Ms. Morgan’s comfort and convenience was of the utmost importance, that she was to have full use of all facilities and she was to be provided with whatever she requested, regardless of cost.”

  “Is that so?”

  Mark was glad Helen couldn’t see the smirk on his face at her obviously annoyed tone.

  “I suppose she’s taken full advantage of it.”

  “Actually, no. Quite the contrary. She seems to go to great lengths to avoid him and has turned down every gift offer he’s made, including a new automobile.”

  “Really? Hmmm, what do you think she’s up to, Mark? Holding out for more, playing hard-to-get to up the stakes?”

  “To be honest, I don’t think so. In fact, it just may be that Richard’s finally met someone he can’t buy, but then again, I could be wrong. Everyone has a price.”

  “And with the looks of her, the price cannot be extraordinarily high. I want you to stay on top of this, Mark. If things progress I want to know immediately.”

  “Of course. Have you spoken with Richard? Is he still planning on joining you at the end of the week?”

  “The last time we spoke, yes. Now, with this—this…honestly, sometimes I could strangle that man. He knows how much has gone into the planning of this holiday. If he disappoints me for some little—strumpet…”

  “I’m sure he’ll be joining you, Helen. After all, he does have a meeting with delegates of the French government. He wouldn’t jeopardize a business deal of that magnitude for a mistress.”

  “Mistress? Are you implying he’s slept with that girl?”

  “No, as I said, my intelligence indicates that she’s anything but interested at this point.”

  “I want to know immediately if the situation changes. I don’t care what time of day or night, call me instantly.”

  “Of course. Now, I must ring off. I have a busy day lined up. Do try and enjoy your holiday, Helen.”

  “Thank you, Mark. I don’t know what I would do without you. Sometimes I wonder—"

  “As do I, Helen. Goodbye.”

  Mark set the phone aside and grinned happily. Richard would get a less-than warm reception when he arrived in France, which was just fine. The more Helen grew to hate him the better it was for Mark’s overall plan.

  Satisfied that he had taken another progressive step toward the actualization of his goals, Mark turned off the television and left his apartment. He had other fish to fry.

  Richard stopped in the foyer in front of Nikki. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. I’ve instructed Osgood to give you my private number. I’m available anytime.”

  “Thank you.” She forced a smile. “Have a wonderful holiday.”

  Richard nodded and reached out to grasp her hand. “Are you sure everything is all right, Nikki?”

  “Positive.” The sooner he left the better. She’d had all she could take of him. If she had to endure one more lunch or dinner, one more attempt on his part to buy her attention with expensive gifts, or one more incident of him treating Maxwell like an animal, she’d explode.

  “All right. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She nodded and stepped away. He released her hand as if reluctant to do so then turned and walked out. Nikki let out her breath. Thank god!

  After the disaster the night Maxwell was caught spying from behind the bar, things had taken on a nightmarish quality. Every time she saw Maxwell he was either a zombie, incapable of even focusing his eyes, or was completely enra
ged and violent, which led to him being drugged again.

  She tried suggesting to Mr. Weston that the drugs weren’t necessary, but he passed it off, more interested in his pursuit of her than his son's well-being.

  Richard Weston made her sick. She couldn’t believe that he’d give orders to have Maxwell drugged then turn around and try to put the move on her. It was all she could do to stay out of reach and not tell him how repulsive he was to her.

  She was a little sick of herself. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she was remaining silent about Mr. Weston’s behavior toward her or Maxwell, just for money, or the fact that she had taken the job in the hopes of searching the estate and stealing something from them if she discovered it. She’d just about decided that even if the Westons were connected to Christian’s death, there was no way she would ever be able to prove it.

  Maybe that was just a defeatist attitude. Maybe it was cowardly. Maybe she was just thinking of herself and her own safety and security. No matter what option she chose, it didn’t make her proud of herself.

  She tried to justify it by telling herself she didn’t have a choice anymore. If she lost the job she had nowhere to go and no money. In terms of the artifact, she could only justify it to herself with the excuse that such objects should be made available to all branches of science to study and not hoarded by one individual for selfish goals.

  Still, her excuses were just that—excuses. She wasn’t very happy with herself. But at least Richard was gone. Now all she had to do was figure out where to look for a hidden artifact, a way to make it through the summer without setting Maxwell off again and get her reactions toward him under control. Suddenly the challenges seemed a lot bigger than they had a week ago.

  Chapter Four

  At the sound of footsteps, Nikki turned. Max stopped just inside the door to the billard room. A sense of dread swept over her. What would it be this time? More throwing and breaking things, or perhaps the ever-popular temper tantrum in which people either scampered to get out of his way or got run over?

  She couldn’t decide who she was more disgusted with—herself or Maxwell. Him, she could excuse, she supposed. After all, everyone said he was messed up. As for herself, maybe she was in the same boat. It was unthinkable that she could find him so appealing and yet so horrid.

  She’d hoped that things would improve once Mr. Weston left. That hadn’t panned out. In fact she felt like she had taken steps backward instead of forward. Just when it would seem that Maxwell was leveling out, she’d allow herself to look at him and she’d be captive to forbidden desires, completely enchanted and wanting desperately to see some sign that he was not a hopeless case. Unfortunately, it seemed that each time such a moment occurred he ran away and the next time she’d see him would be to witness, or be the victim of, one of his acts of lunacy.

  It was wearing her out, mentally and emotionally. At the moment she didn’t have the energy to go through another episode, so she ignored him and continued with her solitary game.

  The fact of the matter was she’d just about had her fill of Maxwell and everyone else in the mansion. She had plenty of time to work on her thesis, but aside from that the only thing she had to occupy herself with was the mystery of Maxwell and that was beginning to look like a puzzle she’d never unravel.

  It didn’t help matters that she was uncomfortable whenever she was outside of her room. She felt like she was constantly being watched, which made taking advantage of any of the facilities on the estate less than appealing.

  Her search for the illusive Stone had proven very unsuccessful. She’d scoured nearly every room in the enormous mansion except for Simon Weston’s floor, and had found nothing to indicate a hidden safe or hiding space. Having no phone number for Gaspar, she couldn’t contact him for suggestions, so that particular quest seemed to have reached a dead end.

  If it wasn’t for the promise of fifteen thousand dollars at the end of the summer, she’d seriously consider quitting. Obviously, she was accomplishing little with her time.

  And yet, deep inside, she knew that as tempting as giving up was, she couldn’t do it. Not because she was so determined to locate the Stone. She was pretty sure that even if it did exist, and even if by some miracle Richard Weston did have it, she’d never find it.

  In fact, the lure of the Stone had taken a definite back seat to the mystery of Maxwell Weston. There had to be a reason he acted the way he did. After seeing the way his father treated him, she felt sorry for him. She’d been watching the way the staff treated him, and it was most curious. Either they seemed terrified of him—which was understandable considering his outbursts—or treated him like he was a toddler, incapable of understanding much of anything except the most elementary concepts like being hungry, tired or sleepy.

  She’d be willing to bet that wasn’t the case. There was a look that came into his eyes whenever he was treated like a child. The only label she could assign to the look was resentment. She wondered why, if he resented being treated in such a way, he didn’t just tell them to stop. But thus far she hadn’t heard him utter one word. Which was something else that was very odd. What was it about talking? Was he just insufferably rude or was he mute?

  Like everything else about Maxwell, it was a mystery. She’d tried to ask several members of the staff questions about him, but everyone had made it clear that if she wanted answers she’d have to go to Osgood, and he wasn’t very open to discussion regarding Maxwell. Every time she even asked a question, Osgood would remind her what her duties were and suggest she concentrate on fulfilling them and not wasting her time and his with pointless questions.

  The entire situation seemed stranger with each passing day. She wished she could think of something that would break the ice with Maxwell but had no idea what that would be.

  Noting that he hadn’t moved, she paused to look at him. “You want to play a game?”

  He hesitated then nodded.

  “Okay, great.” She started setting up the table.

  Surprisingly, Max was very good. In fact, he ran the table three times before she got to take one shot. She complimented him several times and once was even rewarded with a slight smile. Finally, she had a good run and tied the game. It was down to the wire. Whoever made the next shot would win. She missed. Max was up. He missed, which surprised her. Then she made the shot. Excited to have at least won a single game she threw her arms up in the air. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Max didn’t respond well to her victory. In fact, his face went through a series of expressions before finally contorting in what she perceived as anger. Without warning he snatched up the final ball on the table and threw it. Nikki ducked down behind the table, hearing the crash of glass as the ball impacted with a window. She started to rise but quickly hit the deck again when he swung the cue stick and smashed the light above the table. Shards of glass rained down.

  Nikki was scared but also angry. Her anger surpassed her fear and without considering her own safety, she jumped up, cue stick still in hand and shouted at him.

  “Stop it!”

  Max whirled toward her, the stick in his hands poised like a baseball player at bat. She glared at him, gripping her own stick tighter. “I mean it. Stop right now. There’s no excuse for you acting like this!”

  His eyes widened as if in surprise then rage seemed to take control of him. He brought the cue stick down on the table, snapping it in half. Nikki flinched but stood her ground. He threw the broken remains of the cue stick on the floor and stalked from the room.

  Nikki blew out her breath, feeling the rapid beat of her heart as she placed her own cue stick on the table. Betty ran into the room. She took one look and dashed back out, yelling for Mr. Gaynor. Nikki sighed and prepared herself for the inevitable confrontation with Osgood, asking herself if Maxwell or the money was really worth it. At that moment she wasn’t sure.

  Max watched from the window as Nikki sat down on a bench in the garden and opened her book. He knew she was upset and angry.
He didn’t blame her. He hadn’t exactly been friendly since she arrived. In a way he was sorry. He’d like to be friends with her. Actually, if he had a choice he’d choose to be more than friends, but that would never happen, not with her or anyone else. That was just a dream. He’d be lucky if he ever found anyone who would just talk to him.

  When he first met Nikki, he thought she might be that person. He’d been disabused of that notion by eavesdropping on a conversation between Betty and Steve, his father’s driver. Nikki was there for one reason. The money. She was broke and needed money and that was the only reason she’d taken the job. Not only that, but Betty said she’d heard Louise and Osgood talking and they were both suspicious that Nikki was the latest in Richard’s list of playthings.

  Then his father had postponed his trip. Maxwell had watched Richard and Nikki. He saw the look on his father’s face when she was around. It made Maxwell angry. Nikki was young enough to be Richard’s daughter. He should leave her alone. Maxwell was glad when his father left. Things were always better when his parents weren’t around. Osgood didn’t drug him, and he didn’t have people shouting and cursing at him.

  Richard had left specific instructions for Nikki to have full run of the place and had told Osgood to make sure she was provided with anything she wanted. According to Betty, Osgood wasn’t happy about that and didn’t like Nikki because of it. He thought she was just another gold-digger.

  What if Osgood was right? Maxwell wasn’t sure. She’d spent time with his father, but the times he’d watched she hadn’t seemed happy about Richard’s attention. But maybe it was just an act for his benefit. What if she really was there to spy on him? Suspicion made Max fearful. He had to find out and the only way he knew how to do that was through tactics he’d used in the past. He acted badly, becoming destructive and violent. If she was Richard’s pet, it was a sure bet she’d report to Richard. Of course, she might also just give up and leave. He had a pretty good average at getting rid of the drones.