Now she flipped through the papers, her eyes crossing as she looked at lists of assets and liabilities. She really just wanted to turn the whole pile over to Alex and forget it—he could work out the details with the Markhams’ attorney. She’d have to do that. Later.
She sighed and pushed the papers away, unable to keep her mind on anything except for the fact that someone wanted her or Cleo dead—if the snake was part of this—or maybe both of them.
There was a light knock at her door. “Rosemary?” It was Sage.
Rosemary glanced at Cleo to see if she was asleep, then stood and moved into the hall. “What’s going on?” she asked softly after shutting the door behind her.
“Joel has some news. We thought we’d bring it over now.”
That sounded ominous. Rosemary followed her to the great room where Joel waited with Jonquil and Delphi. She took a nearby chair while Sage commandeered the spot next to her husband and he took her hand. She seemed so dainty sitting beside him, her dark hair and eyes a crazy contrast next to his Vin Diesel exterior.
“I’ve been working with Deputy Oliver. It turns out Rulon has an alibi for the day you were skiing. He was temping in a kitchen in Denver. The chef there verified that he came in early to help set up for a banquet and worked until well after lunch. He doesn't have a good alibi for the car windows, but we can't prove anything about that. Not yet, anyway.”
Rosemary deflated a little, more confused than ever. “So then who pushed me? It could have been almost anyone.”
Amusement leaped into Joel’s gaze. “I don’t think the list of people who are out to get you is that long.”
“Ha, ha.” But she wasn’t amused. “Where do we search next?”
“We keep working on the list and stay more vigilant. We’ll catch him.” Joel’s voice was soft, but his face was determined.
She nodded, a sick feeling rising in her throat. “Yes, but will you catch him before he hurts my little girl?”
That was the thought that ricocheted through her head at odd hours of the day and night. She believed in Joel, he’d kept Sage safe when a stalker was bent on killing her, but Rosemary couldn’t move Cleo in with him and have him watch her 24/7. So what could she do to keep her daughter safe?
Cleo huddled on the balcony overlooking the great room, listening to the news. No one would tell her anything, so the only thing she could do was to listen in. Right now, she kinda wished she hadn’t. She’d been nearly asleep when Sage knocked and Cleo pretended not to notice.
She swallowed, terror and worry forming a greasy ball in her stomach. Rosemary was getting hurt; someone was after her. Was it Cleo’s fault? Her parents had been hurt, then blown up in the bombing. Just thinking about that made her feel bad; she missed her mom and dad more every day. Now someone was coming after Rosemary. Maybe Cleo was to blame. Was she bad luck, like a curse on everyone who loved her?
She was scared to stay, but scared to go too. It was the middle of the winter and she didn’t really know anyone here except Rosemary and her sisters—and Cleo didn’t want any of them hurt, either.
She saw Joel and Sage stand to leave and she ducked even tighter into the corner. Maybe Rosemary would stay down there to talk to Delphi and Jonquil and she could hear more.
Cleo wasn’t sure what she thought about Delphi—her name was short for Delphinium, which was really long. No wonder she went with the nickname. Cleo thought if she had a name like that, she’d make up one for herself. Then she could be Princess Adelaide or Queen Abby. Delphi was really serious, always working and didn’t smile very much. She had sad eyes but she didn’t talk about it. Cleo didn’t blame her. She wondered if Delphi was as sad about her dad dying as Cleo was about her parents. Rosemary didn’t talk about her dad much, even when Cleo asked about him, and she didn’t know why.
The door shut behind Joel and Sage. Jonquil locked the door and set the alarm. They were always setting the alarm and locking the door and windows. It was like a prison here, but to keep everyone out instead of in. They had to lock the doors back home too, but her parents didn’t freak out about her opening the window like Rosemary did.
“Well, that’s almost worse,” Rosemary said, pushing her braid behind her shoulder. “At least when I thought it was Rulon, I knew who to watch for. Now I’m just stressed about everyone all of the time.”
“We’ll figure it out. We won’t let anyone hurt Cleo. You know that,” Jonquil said.
Rosemary closed her eyes, looking tired even though it was still early for her. “I hope you’re right. I don’t know how to fix this.”
When they didn’t say anything else for a long moment, Cleo decided she better get back to bed before someone noticed her. She sneaked back to the room, being careful to make sure she shut the door quietly behind her.
Guilt pressed on her as she climbed into bed and huddled under the covers. If she hadn’t come, Rosemary wouldn’t be so upset. Maybe if she was really good, Rosemary would feel better. She tucked the blankets over her head and let the tears flow.
“The CISM group will be in Conifer and Oak for the day, and then just in Conifer tomorrow. I’ve already double-checked the menu with Rosemary,” Delphi said, wrapping up her report at the executive meeting. “What about for the anniversary party? When does that arrive?”
Gina, Lana’s office manager, interrupted the meeting. “I’m sorry, but someone is on the phone for Rosemary, and she says it’s urgent. She says she’s from the school.”
Rosemary’s heart rate tripled and she leaped to grab the phone in the middle of the conference table. “Hello, this is Rosemary.”
“I thought that would get your attention.” It was Wanda’s voice on the line.
Anger streaked through Rosemary as she sat back in her chair, relieved that Cleo was obviously fine, and irritated by the ruse. “Mother, you freaked me out. What do you want? I’m in a meeting, and I’m pretty sure Gina told you that.”
“Too busy to talk to your mother? Come on, Rosie, did that father of yours knock all good behavior out of you, coddling your bad attitude?”
Rosemary gritted her teeth. “If you have something to say, say it, because I’m hanging up in thirty seconds.”
Harrison reached out and covered her hand with his. She didn’t think he really believed how awful her mother was, but the whole group was about to get a taste of the way things worked between her and Wanda if she didn’t bite back the hurt and anger that always filled her when she heard her mother’s voice.
“I still need that treatment, Rosemary. I really need five grand so I can start feeling better. You owe it to me.”
“I don’t owe you anything. I need to go. Some of us work for a living.” She hung up, closing her eyes for a few seconds to get the emotions under control. “Is there a way to block her calls so they don’t make it into the building?”
She held up a hand and shook her head. “Never mind, she’ll just change her number or something.” She sucked in a breath, looking at the group again. “Sorry, Delphi, go on.” Her heart still pounded like crazy from the adrenaline that poured into her when she thought something had happened to Cleo. How could her mother scare her like that? Of course, Wanda had never had that kind of reaction when Rosemary had been hurt or in trouble. She would’ve had to care for that to happen.
Harrison squeezed her hand, drawing her back into the room. She looked around her. “Sorry, I got distracted.”
“We understand,” Lana said. “Delphi asked about the food for this weekend.” Concern showed on her face as she studied Rosemary.
“Right.” She managed to refrain from apologizing again and plowed ahead about preparations. She still felt muddled, but the report came out reasonably well organized anyway. The meeting finished and the other department heads left, but the family members stayed seated by silent agreement while the others filed out.
“Your mom again?” Harrison asked.
“Yeah.” Rosemary smoothed back her braid. “She has this thing—she ref
uses to work and Dad’s not around to shovel money into her bottomless pit of a bank account anymore, so she thinks I should start paying up.”
“Is she mad you won’t support her?” Joel asked.
“Yeah, she gets uptight when her credit card at Bloomies isn’t getting a lot of use.” Resentment shot through her and she clenched her teeth to hold it in.
“Is she upset enough she might want you out of the way?” Joel asked carefully. “Your inheritance isn’t exactly a big secret—or at least the fact that you inherited big isn’t a secret.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know how much there is, or that if I die, all my money goes to some stupid program for under-privileged cheerleaders, among other stupid groups. I hated those girls in school,” she mumbled the end of this under her breath.
“Hey, I was a cheerleader,” Jonquil protested.
Rosemary tipped her head to the side, studying Jonquil. “Yeah, why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“You hate all cheerleaders?” Jonquil asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Rosemary sat back and eyed her sister—she was Rosemary’s favorite by far. “Well, I liked you fine until I knew about your deep, dark past. How come that didn’t come up in our family scandals last summer? Seriously, if someone wanted people to hate us, they totally should have gone after Jonquil’s secret past. Me getting kicked out of two schools doesn’t even compete.”
Jonquil stuck out her tongue at Rosemary, who tossed back a squinty fake smile.
“All right, children,” Cami said, sounding a little harassed. “Back to the issue at hand. Wanda—could she be our bad guy or do we just hate her on principle because she’s selfish and cruel?”
“Oh, hey, hate her on principle. I doubt she’s the person who’s after me. She probably thinks she can get paid faster if I’m alive. She’d be wrong, but it’s probably what she believes.” There were days when she was tempted to pay up to get her mother to go away, but she knew it would never end.
Harrison lifted a finger and she turned to watch him—as did almost everyone else. He was still holding her hand, but didn’t seem to notice anymore. “Cleo says your mom always upsets you when she calls. What does she say? The day in your office I walked in on a call; it sounded nasty.”
Rosemary repeated what she could remember of the most recent call, and the call before. “She said she’d make me pay. But I really think that’s literally, because that’s what she understands. She doesn’t have the follow-through to attempt murder.”
“Regardless, I’ll check her out,” Joel said. “If she’s getting desperate, we don’t want to overlook her.”
“She can’t ski. She doesn’t even like the snow,” Rosemary said. “No way she did that. Besides, the guy who helped me out claimed it was a man who pushed me.”
“She could have paid someone to hurt you,” Cami suggested.
“Hey, I’d do it for free,” Delphi quipped.
Rosemary ignored the last part and pushed on. “She’s mean and narcissistic, but I don’t think she’d have anyone killed. Not even me.”
“And still, I’m going to check.” Joel scribbled something on his tablet computer.
“Fine. I hope it is her, because then I can see her in jail, which would make my year.” Rosemary had enough of the discussion and stood, being her mother’s meal ticket was bad enough without believing she would actually try to have her killed. It was more than Rosemary could handle calmly at the moment. “I have food to deal with. And last I checked, you all have things to do too.”
“Hey, I haven’t excused you,” Lana protested.
“The main meeting is over. Are you going to write up the head of housekeeping and engineering because they took off already?” Rosemary asked as she circled the table. When Lana didn’t respond, she nodded. “That’s what I thought.” She stalked out of the room, needing a few minutes to calm down before facing her staff.
Harrison couldn’t get Rosemary’s earlier distress out of his head. She’d held it in, but he could see it in her eyes, in the way she held her shoulders and the pinched expression on her face. The phone call had bothered her more than she would admit. When lunchtime arrived, he went straight to the restaurant. He greeted Marla, the hostess, and continued on through without an explanation. The staff was starting to get used to him just barreling into the kitchen to lock horns with Rosemary, so no one even blinked.
The kitchen was chaos as usual—the kind of organized chaos that defied understanding to an outsider like himself. The restaurant was busy and the convention running down the hall meant the kitchen was putting out a steady supply of food and snacks throughout the day.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked Rosemary.
“Yes.” She mixed a pan of rice pilaf, not looking up at him.
“Is that true?” he asked the girl standing next to her.
She looked at Rosemary from the corner of her eye. “Uh, yes, of course.”
Rosemary sighed but didn’t seem irritated when she glanced at the girl beside her. “You really have to become a better liar if you want to convince anyone over the age of two.”
“Great.” Harrison took that as permission to meddle. He moved to the corner where they put together the salads. “Two oriental chicken salads. And a side of those beer-battered fries for me. I love those things. We’ll take them to another room so she can get away for a few minutes to eat.” He really didn’t care about the distractions of the kitchen—she managed to ignore those reasonably well from her office most of the time, but he wanted to get her talking about more private things, and she wouldn’t do that in her office.
“You’re so bossy,” Rosemary said mildly.
“I have to be when I’m dealing with you,” he answered in the same tone. “Come on, we’ll have a few minutes of quiet, you’ll be able to regroup, and you’ll be calmer when you come back in.”
One of the fry cooks shot him a grateful look that indicated Harrison was right that she’d been testy that morning. Considering the call from her mom, he wasn’t surprised.
“If you’re going to keep coming in here to bother me, I’m going to make you get a food handler’s permit so I can put you to work.” Rosemary grabbed a garlic clove and started mincing it.
“That could be interesting. But I don’t think I need a permit to wash dishes, and I have a funny feeling that’s where I’d end up.”
She smiled. “You might be right. In that case, we have a sink full.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m on my break right now. I can’t do dishes.”
“If you’re in the kitchen,” one of the guys said, “you’re not really on your break, so you better get out of the way or get to work.”
Harrison chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling she’s said that a few times.”
“You better believe it.” Rosemary zoomed through several more cloves of garlic in way less time than Harrison would have believed humanly possible—especially since she still bore a sling for her sprained shoulder. He watched her work, appreciating the graceful way she moved through the task, answering questions and giving orders to the people around her without skipping a beat.
“Order up.”
Harrison looked over to see the salads and a side of fries on a counter—they must have been anxious to get rid of Rosemary if they rushed his order ahead of everyone else’s. “Perfect. Put down the knife, Rosemary. Time to eat.”
“There’s just something about a pushy man that gets to me,” she said with an edge of sarcasm and gave a few directions to her staff. She grabbed her plate from the counter, allowing Harrison to follow her out.
He appreciated that she grumbled but didn’t balk and he directed her down the hall to an empty room.
“Why are we eating in here?” Rosemary asked when Harrison picked a table.
“Because you need to get away from the minions for a few minutes. And I plan to pry about your mother, and you won’t do that if everyone’s hovering around you in the restaurant.”
She lifted her fork and sighed. “They put the dressing on the salad greens instead of on the side.”
“Yup, that’s how the salad’s made. Eat up.” He forked up some chicken for himself and savored the flavor. He waited until she took a couple of bites before jumping in. “What happened between you and your mom? Did you always hate her, or is it something a little more recent?”
“Do we have to go over this? Really, it’s so last year.”
“Quit avoiding the question—you need to tell someone and we have to assess whether she’s a real threat.”
She stabbed at some lettuce with her fork, but slowly, reluctantly began to talk. “I didn’t always hate her. I have vague memories of desperately wanting her to love me like I loved her.” She paused for a moment. “That was a long time ago, though. I stopped trying to make her happy a long time ago. How terrible is it to say that? How much worse that I barely feel bad about it?” She rubbed the back of her neck, then returned to eating.
“Did she abuse you?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I really can’t talk about her now. Please just let it go. It’s over.”
His heart ached for her, but he was starting to understand her. “If it were over, you wouldn’t be so wound up about it.” He watched her carefully, trying to nudge her without making her go over the edge. If she still refused, he’d change the subject, or at least shift it laterally a little.
She said nothing for a moment, then seemed to give in. “She’s just self-absorbed, okay? Everything is about her, and how it affects her. It was never about me, unless I was what made her life worse than it would be otherwise, which was most of the time. You want to know why I got into so much trouble in school? Because I wanted my parents to pay, or to pay attention, I’m not sure which anymore. Both of them. Dad wouldn’t acknowledge that I was his in public, and Wanda just didn’t care about anyone but herself. She drives me crazy and she never gives up. But I’m not playing this time.” Her face was tight and pain lingered in her eyes.
Family Matters (DiCarlo Brides book 4) (The DiCarlo Brides) Page 14