Blue Clouds

by Patricia Rice

  The voice on the other end of the line laughed. “Don’t drawl out there, do they? When you comin’ home, honey?”

  Pippa wrinkled her nose. “Don’t know if I am, Charley. I kinda like this place. And I keep hoping Billy will get the hint and go back there and leave me alone. He can’t live on nothing for long.”

  “He’s out there?” Charlene asked, scandalized. “I’m sorry, honey. I swear I didn’t tell anyone anything, but he was over at Mr. Postman when I took that box of your mail over. Do you think he could have got a look at it somehow? He could have flirted with one of those bubble-headed teenagers, or told them he was acting under the authority of the law or some such. They’ll believe most anything.”

  “Box of mail? You sent me a box of mail?” Pippa held her breath as she waited for the answer.

  “Didn’t you get it? I sent it weeks ago. I declare, UPS is getting as bad as the post office. I’ll have them trace it. It was mostly bank statements and bills, but you had one of those envelopes saying you won a million dollars. I thought about keeping it for myself, but who knows, maybe you really did win. You deserve it more than most.”

  Pippa didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She shook her head, answered with whatever fell off her tongue, and hung up as soon as she could.

  Billy hadn’t sent the mail bomb. Someone else had.

  She hit the intercom and called Doug.

  He lumbered in and glared at her. “You gettin’ to be worse than the Man, girl. What you want?”

  “You’re just peeved because Seth didn’t take you into L.A. with him,” Pippa reproved him.

  “A bodyguard guards bodies,” he grumbled, flopping down in the easy chair and sprawling his long legs across the floor. “He thinks he’s immortal.”

  “I’d wager he has no such foolish notion. Sir Galahad thinks he’s protecting us. I just had a call from home.” Pippa sat back, replaying the conversation in her head, trying to work out all the angles. “Billy didn’t send that package from Kentucky. A friend of mine did. Billy probably saw the address on it and flew out here as soon as he could. I don’t think he had anything to do with the mail bomb.”

  Doug’s eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at his king-sized shoes. “That means one of them packages for Seth blew. I shoulda opened them all. To hell with his playing at Christmas. It’s my job and I fu—” He changed gears. “I messed up.” Stamping his feet flat, he started to rise.

  “If you head for that beer bottle, I’ll crack it over your head,” Pippa warned him. “We have to work this out. If that bomb wasn’t for me, then it was for Seth. And so was the candy. Someone’s trying to kill him, and he’s out there on his own right now.”

  Doug turned his lip up and snarled, then grudgingly lowered himself into the chair again. “You got a nasty mouth on you.”

  “Yeah, I know it. I steam Seth every time I open it. But I don’t believe in pussyfooting around when something needs doing. Should we call the police?”

  Doug grimaced. “They ain’t done nothing yet. I vote we call that fella Dirk. I think Seth’s told him a hell of a lot more than he told the cops. Call his lawyer, too, and tell him to have Seth call us. I wish the man would carry a cell phone like normal people do.”

  “That’s what he has me for: answering phones. His car is probably the only place he gets any privacy. I can’t blame him. Where else is he likely to go?”

  “No place you can call,” Doug answered grudgingly. “I’ll take care of that. You call the lawyer and get that Dirk person on the line.”

  Well, that told Pippa something she didn’t want to know. Seth was heading for L.A. and another woman. Creep. All men were creeps in one way or another. When would she ever learn that?

  Probably never. As Doug stomped out of the room to make his own calls, Pippa hit the numbers for Seth’s private detective. She’d call the police, too, just in case, although one would have thought they’d have traced the package by now. Maybe they were checking out poor Charlene first. If Pippa could really learn to despise men, she’d just let Seth protect himself and she’d sit here and watch instead of making an idiot of herself.

  She wouldn’t do that either. “Wimp,” she muttered as she reached Dirk’s secretary. She couldn’t even watch men she despised get hurt.

  “Miss Cochran? Mr. Ridgewood is on his way out to Garden Grove now. I left a message on Mr. Wyatt’s machine.”

  Pippa looked at the blinking light and sighed. “He didn’t pick up his messages before he left. He’s on his way into L.A. If Mr. Ridgewood checks in, tell him to call here.”

  Not good, but not necessarily disastrous. The bomb may not have had anything to do with anyone in Garden Grove. It could have come from New York, or Japan, for all anyone knew. The Chevy that had followed them the other night had probably been Billy playing tough. He wanted her, not Seth, she thought.

  Muttering an uncomplimentary expletive beneath her breath, Pippa dialed the police. The detective wasn’t in. She left a message. She called the lawyer and got voice mail. The office wasn’t open yet. With all the complex communication equipment in this world, it had become virtually impossible to talk to anyone, Pippa thought, hanging up.

  Now what? Maybe she was worrying over nothing. No one knew Seth had gone to L.A. except the people in his household. He should be fine. But someone was trying to kill him.

  Okay, who? Natalie, probably. Her husband? Maybe. Pippa shrugged. Golding hadn’t seemed the emotionally unstable type, but who knew what Seth had said to him over the years. All right, add the professor. And Taylor Morgan. Heck, she’d like to punch Seth a time or two herself. He probably had people waiting in line wanting to wring his neck. Maybe he ought to go sleep with his editors for a while. They were probably the only people in the world who might protect him right now. Unless his next book stank.

  This was not productive. Pippa looked up as Lillian entered.

  “Has Seth already left? I thought I’d have him stop by the house and pick up a few things for me. I guess I’ll have to send my driver. Did he look over those contracts that arrived yesterday?”

  Lillian appeared more anxious than usual, driving Pippa’s already frayed nerves a little closer to snapping. “He left a little while ago. I don’t think he had time to look at the contracts. Are they urgent?”

  “Well, they should be mailed off by tomorrow. I’ll look at them and leave him a few notes. I wish he’d talked to me before he left. I’d already told Stan he could have the day off, and I believe he made plans. He won’t be happy.”

  Pippa didn’t think highly of Lillian’s lazy, narcissistic driver. He spent more time with the barmaids in town than driving Lillian anywhere. Maybe upsetting his plans would save some poor girl’s virtue for a day.

  “Just don’t tell anyone where Seth has gone,” Pippa warned. “He didn’t take Doug with him, and that crowd in town is out for blood.”

  Lillian wrung her hands. “Surely they wouldn’t harm Seth? Maxim used to do dreadful things and no one ever tried to harm him. I thought the police decided that bomb was for you. I didn’t mean to say anything, but I thought you should be a little more cautious.”

  No sense in worrying Lillian any more than she already was. Under Pippa’s constant warnings about Chad’s lungs, Seth’s mother had scarcely touched cigarettes in days, and she’d like to keep it that way. Pippa managed a smile. “I’m just worrying like an old mother hen. Why don’t you look at those contracts? I think I’ll stop in and check on Chad.”

  Lillian happily carried off the contracts. Tired of listening to the constant pounding of the workmen in Seth’s office, Pippa hit the voice mail button and headed for the stairs. She was halfway across the foyer when Doug opened the door to usher Dirk inside.

  The detective appeared even colder and sharper than she remembered. He looked like the kind of man who would carry a knife and know how to use it. His dark eyes scanned the interior as he walked through the door, spotting Pippa instantly.

  “Mi
ss Cochran.” He halted her with just the command of his voice. “Doug tells me Mr. Wyatt isn’t in. Is there any way we can reach him?”

  She didn’t like the shrewd way he studied her. If she were guilty of anything, she’d want to confess on the spot. But she didn’t have to admit her indiscretions to him. As a matter of fact, as totem poles went, Dirk’s position was probably beneath hers.

  “There’s a room back here away from the workmen where we can talk, Mr. Ridgewood. If you’ll follow me?”

  Sometimes, she really enjoyed the authority empowered by administration.

  “Dirk,” he reminded her. “Please call me Dirk. It makes me sound like one of those TV hotshots.”

  Pippa threw him a grin over her shoulder. “All right, so you’re another man I can’t hate. Come on, I’ll have Nana bring us some tea. Doug, you coming?”

  “You think I’m letting you handle this, girl?”

  So much for administrative authority. Dirk grimaced at the tea as it was served but sipped it gingerly before he spoke.

  “I’ve traced the UPS packages,” Dirk said after Nana left. “As far as I can tell, they appear harmless. It must have been the post office box he opened.”

  “That discounts Billy,” Pippa agreed. “I just had a call this morning from the person who sent my package. Is there any way of tracing the post office package?”

  Dirk squirmed in discomfort as he looked from Pippa to Doug. “I’d rather speak with Mr. Wyatt. Do you know when he will return?”

  “He didn’t leave word,” Doug replied stiffly.

  “When he’s through with his girlfriend,” Pippa answered at the same time, defiantly.

  Doug threw her a glare and Dirk raised his eyebrows but neither man commented on that particular bombshell, although Pippa noted they exchanged knowing looks over her head. She wanted to smack them both.

  “I think we’d better find him,” Dirk said slowly, weighing each word. “I think we have strong reason to believe the bomb was meant for him. The candy had enough poison in it to kill any ordinary man.”

  Chapter 32

  Doug shot out of his seat and stormed the room. “I shouldn’t have let him have it! It had no damned label! I’m just what everyone says—a worthless piece of shit.”

  “Shut up, Doug,” Pippa snapped. She really snapped. All those frayed nerves wore right through. She’d been terrorized enough for a lifetime, and now she would put an end to it. She blocked his path and pounded his NFL barrel-wide chest. “Sit down and let’s see what else the man has to say.”

  Dirk’s thin lips twisted wryly as Pippa shoved a man three times her size into the nearest chair. Doug didn’t offer any real fight, but his glare alone should have sent her screaming. Hands on hips, she glared back until, deeming Doug sufficiently cowed, she turned on Dirk.

  “Can the poison be traced?”

  “Not easily. But toffees like that are handmade. The poison was in the coating. We’re looking for manufacturers. The problem, of course, is Seth’s international connections. The candy may not have come from L.A.”

  “It was mailed from L.A.,” Doug growled. “It didn’t have a return label, but it had a postmark. We just figured it came from his lawyer or something.”

  “Then we’ll know more shortly. Did Seth give you that report I sent him the other day?”

  Doug rolled his big shoulders and shot Pippa an uneasy glance. “Yeah.”

  More secrets no one wanted to tell her. Fine, then. She was just a glorified secretary. Why should she know? Or care? But she cared, damn it. She cared too much. That was half her problem. She couldn’t let anything happen to Seth. It would devastate Chad.

  “So, don’t tell me what was in the report.” She threw up her hands and paced. “For all we know, someone tried to bomb that report out of existence. Why should that matter to me? I’ll just go wash Chad’s hair.”

  Doug snickered. Less experienced in Pippa’s manipulations, Dirk jumped to his feet and halted her escape.

  “Not yet, Miss Cochran. It’s possible someone intended to destroy Seth’s mail along with him. You’re quite right. Sit down, please.”

  “Hook, line, and sinker,” Doug murmured in Dirk’s direction. “You’re as bad as Seth.” He grinned at Pippa. “Seth just didn’t want you knowin’ he’s checkin’ up on your Billy friend. You already know about the Witch and the Serpent.”

  Natalie and Darius, the Witch and the Serpent. Doug had been reading too many of Chad’s storybooks. Pippa wanted to grin back at him, but she just couldn’t manage it. She collapsed in a chair and dug her fingers into her hair. “What about Taylor Morgan and his crowd? Has anyone looked into them? After what the lawyer said the other night, I’d think they’d be prime suspects.”

  “Morgan is,” Dirk acknowledged. “He’s leveraged the bank beyond industry standards, and the auditors are circling like buzzards. The company he’s wanting to bring in here is cash heavy. If Seth interferes with the acquisition, he could bring the bank tumbling down around Morgan’s ears.”

  Pippa gasped. “What will that do to the town? Will the investors lose their money?”

  “Seth ain’t gonna let that happen,” Doug scoffed. “He’s just gonna make Morgan twist in the wind awhile. The man’s got a mean streak when it comes to Morgan.”

  Seth probably had a right to despise Morgan, but that mean streak could get him killed. Doug didn’t seem overly concerned. Pippa struggled between ragged nerves and common sense. “Maybe we should spread a rumor that Seth’s bringing the plant here. Maybe that would keep Morgan away for a while, until we can find out who sent those packages.”

  “That would take out at least one potential danger,” Dirk agreed. “But we’d better check with Mr. Wyatt before spreading rumors. He might have other ideas.”

  “Like going to L.A. without a bodyguard.” Pippa sent Doug a fuming look. “Have you reached his girlfriend yet? Or does she want to kill him, too?”

  “I figure you’re more likely to do that than she is. She ain’t got the guts. And I wouldn’t precisely call her a girlfriend neither.” Edgy, Doug didn’t rise to her bait. He punched his fist repeatedly into his palm but didn’t seem to realize he was doing it.

  Pippa grabbed the cordless telephone when it rang. At the sound of Seth’s voice on the other end, she nearly fell to her knees in thanksgiving. “Seth, you have to get back here at once. Billy didn’t send that bomb.”

  ***

  Seth heard the fear in Pippa’s voice and froze. He didn’t immediately make the connection between her words and himself. He simply heard her fear and cursed for not being with her. He could protect himself, but Pippa couldn’t.

  Eventually, her words sank in. As his fear for Pippa subsided, Seth relaxed enough to grin and wink at his lawyer across the desk from him. “All right, Miss Worrywart, I’ll check Morris for handguns and bazookas before I leave. I won’t see anyone more deadly than the L.A. freeway before I get home, I promise. Tell Dirk to put tails on Natalie and Morgan and maybe Darius, just for fun. If we catch him with one of the high school girls, Nat will be so busy nailing his hide to the wall, she won’t have time for me.” He hung up before she could argue.

  Morris shook his head worriedly. “If Miss Cochran was warning you, you should pay attention. You would be amazed at the number of contract killings coming through the courts these days. A man as prominent as yourself should always take precautions.”

  “I’m scarcely a notable personage,” Seth scoffed, standing. “No one connects Tarant Mott with Seth Wyatt, and Seth Wyatt is a recluse, remember. Only Garden Grove knows I exist anymore. I can’t live behind iron doors all the time. Women like to worry. It gives them something to do.”

  Actually, Seth kind of liked the idea of Pippa fretting over his health and welfare. People worrying over him didn’t happen very often. He could remember weeks in that lonely hospital bed without a soul stopping in to visit. His mother had gone on a bender right after the accident, and Natalie had been as friendl
y as a rattlesnake. Tracey had stopped in a time or two. He supposed he owed her an explanation for breaking their date tonight, but he wasn’t in the mood for explanations. He’d only made the date to let her down gently, figuring she was due that much. He could put off that scene without regret.

  So, maybe he’d go home and celebrate with Pippa. If she could worry about him even when she was mad at him, maybe she could be pacified and the evening could end much more pleasurably than he’d planned.

  Seth frowned as he started the Jag and eased it into traffic. The brake pedal felt mushy. He couldn’t drive the hills with mushy brakes. Maybe they’d just overheated out here on the hot pavement. He’d better run it over to the dealer, just in case.

  While he had the car looked at, he ought to think of some little gift Pippa would like. She didn’t wear much jewelry, and she’d probably consider anything expensive a bribe. She had the scruples of a nineteenth-century schoolmarm. Sometimes.

  Grinning at the memory of Pippa in his bed, her sassy hair sprawled across his pillows as she reached for him, Seth rejected the schoolmarm image. She was the one who had insisted on no strings, no commitments. She offered him every man’s fantasy.

  Why was it that when offered what he thought he wanted, he wanted more?

  Seth glowered at the heavy traffic on the freeway as he navigated in the direction od the Jag deale. With this no strings, no commitment business, Pippa could walk out any day, take up with some other man, go back to that idiot cop if she wanted. He had no way of keeping her with him. He had never realized he had a jealous streak.

  Pippa’s accusations about his possessiveness had enraged him with their unjustness, but maybe she had a point. He’d never really cared when he thought Natalie was cheating on him. He didn’t care if Tracey slept with every man in town. But the thought of any other man touching Pippa was making him crazy. She’d already admitted she had terrible taste in men. It wasn’t possessiveness on his part, Seth rationalized. What if she hooked up with the wrong kind again? He wanted to be the one who looked after her.