by Ciana Stone
Max had been watching her closely, as well as maintaining surveillance on the phone calls. So far, she’d made only two calls, one to a girl named Catherine and another to a number listed to a Benjamin Marshall.
As he watched from the window, he wondered again if the staff could be wrong. If she wasn’t Richard’s new plaything, could he be messing up the best opportunity he’d had in years? He just didn’t know, and taking a chance wasn’t easy. Still, she didn’t seem like someone who was there to spy on him. Even when he scared her in the billiard room she didn’t threaten to call his parents, or even sneak off and place a call.
Maybe he was misjudging her. He’d paid a visit to his grandfather. Simon assured him that the only way he would really know the truth about Nikki Morgan was to take a chance. The problem was, he didn’t have the courage. Simon knew that and in the end agreed with Maxwell that maybe he should just turn up the heat and see what happened. She just might crack.
Gaspar stood at the window beside Simon’s chair, looking out over the grounds. They watched Nikki walk out onto the pier and stop to look at the water.
“I take it things are not going well.”
Simon looked up at him. “According to Osgood, she’s been quite busy, searching the estate. However, as we both know, Richard wouldn’t be foolish enough to hide the Stone or the device where they could be found. If that were the case, Osgood would have located them long ago.”
“There does exist the possibility that he doesn’t possess any part of it.”
Simon shook his head. “No, the housing device must be in his possession. Lucien came here that night specifically to deliver it.”
“And died before he could tell anyone where it was. Since the house was searched thoroughly, not only by Richard and his people, but by you as well, it would appear that Lucien did not have it in his possession when he made the fateful visit.”
“No, he had it.” Simon seemed to be speaking to himself as much to Gaspar. “He had to have had it.”
Gaspar wasn’t convinced but he didn’t voice his doubts. It was an old argument, one on which he’d never been able to sway Simon’s position.
“Our people inform us that new excavations are talking place in France and Ireland.” Simon looked up at him and Gaspar elaborated. “Rennes-le-Château and Tara to be specific. Hardly the actions of someone who already has the treasure in his possession.”
Simon stared at Gaspar for a few moments with knitted brows. “I can see why someone might come to that conclusion. However, don’t forget, Lucien never said he possessed the entire device. Only the holding mechanism. Therefore, it’s reasonable that based on anecdotal evidence and documentation, Richard would continue his activities to locate the remainder of the components.”
Gaspar had to concede the point. Richard wouldn’t stop until he possessed what he sought. It wasn’t in his nature to do otherwise.
Simon changed the topic of discussion. “It seems that despite all attempts to dissuade her, our Ms. Morgan continues to try making a connection with Maxwell.”
“I take that to mean that he’s been his typical charming self?”
Simon laughed. “He can be quite the demon, can’t he? But who can blame him, Gaspar? Look at the life he’s been forced into.”
“Some might consider his existence enviable.”
Simon barked a harsh laugh. “Only those whose minds are complacent and easily satisfied with paltry material things. No, Maxwell is not such a man. Would that I could release him from this prison.”
Gaspar put his hand on Simon’s shoulder. “You saved his life, Simon. As surely as I breathe, I believe that Richard or his equally evil wife would certainly have had Maxwell disposed of long ago, were it not for your quick thinking and actions to prevent it. By putting fifty-one percent of all your holdings into Maxwell’s name and assigning yourself power of attorney, you saved Maxwell and yourself.”
“Temporarily, yes. Richard would not dare touch either of us until his retinue of lawyers discover a way around the legal labyrinth I’ve created for them. However, never underestimate your opponent, my friend.”
“Point well taken. Nevertheless, I fail to see what more you can do with the situation such as it is.”
Simon nodded and looked out at Nikki sitting on the pier. “Perhaps it is not I who will find the solution to this particular problem.”
Gaspar followed his gaze. Maybe Simon was right. In all of nature, it seemed to be the random element that led to the most startling discoveries and insights. Could Nikki Morgan be that random element? Only time would tell.
Nikki was alone in the library, reading, when Osgood’s voice came from behind her.
“Mr. Weston would like to speak with you, Ms. Morgan.” He carried a cordless phone in his hand.
“Oh, okay, thanks.” She took the phone, not bothering to see if Osgood would stay to listen. It really didn’t matter to her. There was nothing she had to say to Mr. Weston that he couldn’t hear.
“Hello?”
“Nikki, hello dear. Just checking in to see how things are.”
“Fine, Mr. Weston.”
“No trouble with Maxwell?”
Nikki was not about to let him know that so far she’d been a dismal failure in the Maxwell department. “No, sir, everything’s fine.”
“Excellent. How’re you progressing with your thesis?”
Nikki was surprised that he asked. “Uh, fine, I guess.”
“Problems?”
She thought about what remained of all the notes she had taken. Two days ago she’d left everything on her bed while she went to the kitchen for something to drink. When she returned she found her notes, shredded into a thousand pieces all over the room. She had no doubt who was responsible, but saw no point in complaining to Osgood. He would simply excuse Maxwell by resorting to the standard “he’s temperamental” speech.
However, she wasn’t going to let Mr. Weston know. She didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle things. And she hated a snitch.
“Oh, no, no, sir. Just slow.”
“I see. Tell me, are you enjoying the estate?”
“Yes, sir. It’s very nice.”
“If there’s anything you need, Nikki, anything at all, don’t hesitate to let Osgood know. I do want your stay to be as pleasant as possible.”
“Thank you, Mr. Weston. I’m just fine.”
“Very well. If you’re quite sure.”
“Yes, quite. Thank you again.”
“All right. Goodbye, dear.”
“Bye.”
Nikki punched the disconnect button on the phone and handed it back to Osgood who was waiting. He accepted it but made no move to leave. “Something else?” she asked.
“Forgive me, but I must admit to some surprise. You mentioned nothing about Maxwell’s—”
“Temperamental behavior?”
Osgood seemed a little embarrassed. “Yes, that.”
Nikki considered her words before speaking. “Look, Mr. Gaynor, you and I may not see eye to eye on things, like what’s acceptable behavior, but I don’t want to cause problems for you or Maxwell. Apparently, you and the rest of the staff are perfectly comfortable with the situation being what it is, and as you pointed out, it’s not my place to come in and upset the status quo. Besides, maybe Maxwell’s behavior is normal for his…condition. I don’t know. No one seems willing to tell me exactly what that is. But the point is, without me knowing, I could be doing him and Mr. Weston a disservice by reporting every little thing he does.”
Osgood regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments. “I agree completely, Ms. Morgan. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Nikki watched him leave. She’d opened a door big enough to drive a semi through. Guess he either was really dense or had no intention of discussing Maxwell’s condition with her. She didn’t think it was denseness. So why was he so hesitant to tell her what was wrong with Maxwell? What was the big secret? She supposed the only way she was going to disc
over it, was to find out for herself. Talking with Maxwell was probably the only avenue open to her, if she could find a way to get him to actually talk to her.
Maxwell watched as Nikki crossed through the conservatory and walked out onto the terrace. She stopped at the edge of the terrace and looked around then stepped out onto the grass and started slowly across the lawn.
It was a perfect opportunity to initiate the next test. It was one that was almost a guaranteed success at getting rid of unwanted drones. Maxwell hated to use it on her, but he had to know how much she would take and whether she would run to his father. If she was part of the enemy camp it was vital that he discover it.
Quietly he slipped outside, taking a route that paralleled her, being careful to stay hidden. He couldn’t suppress a grimace as he considered what he was about to do. Not only was it mean, it made him appear like a complete idiot. But appearing the moron was the strongest armor he owned.
What if he was wrong about her and she wasn’t a drone? He pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t afford to take the risk. No, he had to carry out his plan. Getting into position, he waited for the right moment.
Nikki walked by his hiding place. She didn’t notice him. As soon as she passed, he sprang out.
She whirled around, and her eyes widened. With a scream she jumped to one side.
Maxwell missed, moving past her. He jerked to a stop. She took off as he turned and prepared to attack again. He hadn’t expected her to move so quickly. She was getting away. He ran faster.
Nikki dodged trees and shrubs, screaming over her shoulder “Stop it! I mean it, Maxwell, stop!”
Maxwell kept coming. She circled the fountain, leapt over a hedge and made for the tennis court. “Stop!” she yelled as he continued in her direction.
“Lunatic!!’’ she screeched as she vaulted a bench.
As Max hurdled the bench, she doubled back the way she had come, jumping over the bench and making for the house.
Max stuck his hands out to stop himself against the fence surrounding the tennis court then turned. She had a good head start, but he was sure he could catch her.
She leaped over a rose bush and zigzagged through the garden, almost falling over one of the gardeners who was crouched down tending a plant. She sprang over him. He stood up, looking at her in shock. At the same moment, Maxwell crashed into him from behind. They both went down, right in the middle of one of Helen’s prize-winning rose bushes.
Thorns tore at Maxwell’s skin as he fought to untangle himself from both the rose bush and the gardener. By the time he managed to get to his feet Nikki was nowhere to be seen, but Deborah, one of the downstairs maids was on the terrace, screaming and pointing at him while two other gardeners laughed like crazy.
Maxwell made tracks for the house. His plan hadn’t worked out exactly as planned, but it still could be effective if she was scared enough. He’d find out soon enough. He just had to get to his quarters, so he could monitor the phones and see if she placed any calls.
Nikki answered the knock at her door. It was Deborah.
“Hi, come on in.”
“Am I interrupting? I was going to change the linen and do the bathroom, but I can come back later.”
“No, no, come on in.”
Deborah pushed the cleaning cart into the room. Nikki gathered up her books and notes off the bed. “Here, let me help you.”
“That’s not necessary, Ms. Morgan.”
“Call me Nikki, okay?”
Deborah looked at her uncertainly. Nikki smiled. “Please?”
“All right…Nikki.”
Nikki helped her strip the bed. “Deborah, do you mind if I ask you something?”
Deborah looked up from tucking in the clean sheet. “What?”
“It’s about Maxwell.”
Deborah lifted her hand to cover her mouth but not before Nikki saw the smile. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. uh, Nikki. It’s just that I saw Maxwell chasing you across the lawn, and…”
Nikki couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “I guess it did look pretty comical.”
Deborah laughed. “You can say that again. Lucky for you, you run fast.”
“Yeah, that was quite an experience. Which brings me back to my question. What exactly is wrong with him?”
Deborah’s face got a guarded look on it. “I’m sorry, but we’re not allowed to discuss that.”
Nikki was tired of that answer. “Come on. I’m supposed to be some kind of companion for him but how am I supposed to even know how to treat him if no one will tell me what’s wrong with him?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about it.”
“I won’t let anyone know.”
Deborah straightened to face Nikki. “I’m sure you mean well, but you have to understand. There are rules here and anyone who doesn’t follow them gets fired. I can’t afford to lose this job.”
Nikki understood that and she wouldn’t jeopardize the woman’s livelihood. She would just have to find out what she wanted to know another way.
“I’m sorry, Deborah. Forget I asked.”
Deborah smiled gratefully. “Look, I understand how hard this probably is for you. Maxwell’s really strange and frightening, but you just have to trust that Mr. Weston knows what’s best for Maxwell, and only does what’s in Maxwell’s best interests. Like Mr. Gaynor says, Maxwell’s his only son and he’s devoted his whole life to taking care of him. If he gives an order concerning Maxwell, it’s because he loves him and wants what’s best for him. So we just have to follow orders and trust him to do what’s right.”
Nikki couldn’t believe that Deborah really believed that Richard Weston had Maxwell’s best interests at heart. Was she deaf as well as blind?
“Sounds like you’re a big Mr. Weston fan.”
Deborah flushed slightly. “It’s not that. I just like my job. It pays well, it isn’t too hard and I don’t want to lose it.”
Nikki wasn’t sure Deborah was being entirely honest. Maybe she had a crush on Mr. Weston. As repulsive as Nikki thought he was, she supposed there were women who would be infatuated with his wealth and power.
Deborah cut a look toward the door then leaned forward slightly. “Just between you and me, he really is handsome. For an older man, I mean. Don’t you think so?”
Nikki wanted to retch. She didn’t want to turn Deborah against her just as they were starting to talk. “Oh, yeah. Listen, why don’t I get out of your way? I shouldn’t hold you up. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me, though. It’s nice to have a friend.”
“Anytime.” Deborah smiled and returned to her tasks.
Nikki decided to take a walk. She needed some fresh air and was tired of being cooped up in her room. As she started downstairs her thoughts turned, as usual, to Maxwell.
Just why am I so curious anyway? Is it just the mystery of discovering the link between Christian’s death and the Westons, or is it Maxell himself? Is it because I have some subconscious desire for him to be what I want, or do I really see something in him that no one else does? Just because he looks normal doesn’t mean he is normal. And his behavior definitely isn’t normal. Or then again, maybe it is normal—for him.
Whatever the case, she couldn’t dismiss him just on the grounds of her own quandary with her attraction to him, or even for his behavior. Not even when he was chasing her around like some deranged football player. That made a smile rise unbidden to her face. As much as it had shocked her, in hindsight she had to admit that it must have looked pretty funny to an observer.
Maxwell was indeed a mystery and she was a complete sucker for mysteries. It was like a drug for an addict. There was no way she could just forget about it.
There was an answer somewhere that would explain his behavior. She just had to find it. Having been given no background on his condition she didn’t have the first idea what his problems were.
Most of the time he acted like a spoiled and slightly demented child, and yet, when she looked in hi
s eyes—those rare occasions when he would actually look at her—she always got the sense that Max was not nearly so handicapped as everyone in the Weston household seemed to think. Perhaps she was a bad judge, but his eyes seem to shine with intelligence and emotion.
Or was that nothing more than wishful thinking? It was pretty lonely on the estate. The staff were occupied with their various jobs and there was no one to even have a conversation with. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, or do something with. At least then she might not feel like such an interloper, getting free meal and board and serving no useful purpose. Not to mention having something to occupy her thoughts besides endless speculations on what had really happened the day Christian died, and whether she had fallen into something that was way over her head.
She made her way to the terrace. Once outside she stopped and looked around. The gardens were very lovely, but the sight of the lake drew her. As she neared the boathouse, she saw Maxwell standing on the pier, his hands in the pockets of his shorts, staring at the water. She paused as she considered whether she wanted to attempt to talk with him again. Deciding she had nothing to lose since she hadn’t made any progress anyway, she walked up behind him.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
He turned to look at her and she smiled. “Guess the price is a little higher here in your neighborhood.”
Still he didn’t answer. She knew he had to have heard her. Apparently, he was in his normal rude mood. The problem was, she was sick and tired of being ignored. Without warning, all of the frustration and anxiety she’d been keeping so tightly bottled up exploded.
“What the hell’s your problem?”
His eyes widened in surprise then he turned his back on her and tried to walk away. But Nikki wasn’t about to let him go that easy. Now that her anger had broken free, all of her good intentions, compassion and concern were forgotten. She couldn’t see past her fury.
“Hold on!” She grabbed his arm.
Maxwell shook her off but she grabbed him again. “No, you’re not going anywhere!”
He pushed at her and she stumbled back from the push, teetered on the edge of the pier and finally righted herself. Slinging her hair back, she charged at him. “I’ve had just about all I can take of you. What the hell’s your beef with me? Tell me, dammit!”