by Ann Yost
****
Arthur’s dizziness held off until after the ceremony. He sat in a chair provided by his wife and willed himself to do what he knew he had to do.
“I’ll get you a plate, dear,” she said.
The thought of food made him nauseous. What he needed was Dutch courage.
“I’d prefer a drink.”
Tonight he would talk to Nick. His conscience was torturing him. Anything, including personal and financial ruin was preferable to one more angst-ridden, sleepless night.
Someone pressed a glass into his hand and her touch reacted on him like electroshock. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Anger rushed through his system. Anger that she had that effect on him. Anger at his own helplessness. This would end now. Tonight. He drank down the lemonade then turned to his wife.
“I’m going inside to use the facilities,” he said. He patted her hand when she offered to go with him. “No, dear. Stay and enjoy your friends. I’ll be fine.”
Arthur inhaled the scent of freshly cut grass and the fresh night air. He heard the friendly voices around him, the eager laughs and he wished he had the right to enjoy the evening. But he didn’t. He hadn’t for some time. He longed for the moderation and control that had characterized nearly all of his sixty years. Damn. He should never have married. He should have stuck with his bachelor ways, his coin collection, his reading. He should have let Isabelle remain a friend. He knew it was the marriage itself that had opened the door to sensual delights and, ultimately, destruction. He should have left that door closed.
****
Nick stood in the shadows of a honeysuckle bush and followed Arthur’s progress toward the house with his eyes. He read the tension in the stoop of the older man’s thin shoulders. Arthur Sneed was a man at a tipping point. Daisy was right. Tonight was the time to confront him.
Arthur disappeared through the back door. Was he planning to take another look around the cellar? Nick slipped his cell out of his pocket and punched in his brother’s number.
“Arthur’s in the house.”
“Good. Time for a summit. Think he’s heading to the cellar?”
“One way to find out.”
****
The cellar door was closed and there was no sliver of light but Arthur knew she was down there. It was not merely that they hadn’t found the diamond. She preferred the dank, spooky underground. She was a creature of the dark.
After the injury to Daisy Budd he’d told her the search was off but he knew she wouldn’t heed him. She would use her wiles to bend him to her will and she would expect to succeed. Why not? Her wiles had already made him abandon every principle by which he’d once lived.
This time it wouldn’t work but he dreaded the confrontation. A wave of self disgust struck him. If he’d been any kind of a man he’d have rejected all this—her—long ago. If he’d been any kind of a husband, he’d have confessed long before now.
She’d ensnared him, bewitched him. He’d been a damned fool. It was too late to save his integrity or his marriage. It was not too late to call off the madness.
Arthur opened the cellar door and found the vast room lit by a single candle.
The air, cool and musty, carried a sense of doom and his poor eyesight blinded him to what awaited. When he reached the bottom step he found her reclined on a blanket. For once her sensuous body reminded him of a serpent sunning itself on a rock. She held out her hand and, with some reluctance, he dropped down to the blanket next to her.
“This isn’t exactly our aerie but it’ll do.”
Aerie. For some reason Arthur thought of Hitler’s mountain retreat at Berchtesgaden. A rather apt analogy. He, too, had destroyed everything in his path. Everything good. A shiver racked his body. This was it. Tonight he’d break her hold.
“It’s over, Alice.”
She said nothing and he peered at her. Could it be this easy?
“I mean it. I’m going to tell Nick what I’ve done. And Isabelle, too.”
“You’ll go to jail.”
“I know. I’ll keep your name out of it.”
“Not much chance of that.” Her voice was low-key, the sensible Alice he’d known for seven years. Where was the devil who’d led him around Hell for the past months? But that wasn’t fair. He was the devil. He had no one to blame but himself.
She leaned close to him and her nearness had the usual effect. His blood raced even as he sensed the menace in her, felt the revulsion mixed with the raging lust. He didn’t move as she manipulated his belt and zipper. He shuddered, hating her touch and needing it, caged by a terrible helplessness and self loathing.
“No more.”
She ignored him. She squeezed and massaged him until he hardened, until he groaned.
She’d destroyed his illusion of himself as a civilized, evolved man. He knew the truth now. He was nothing but a lump of primordial ooze, a horny old man.
“Well, Arthur?”
His arousal throbbed with need and he thrust himself into her hand, silently imploring her to continue. She stroked him, teased him, drove him to beg for it. She loved to hear him beg.
He heard a door open and close but he couldn’t open his eyes. He heard Alice’s breath. Was she going to blow him or the candle? “Please,” he muttered, “please, please.”
She squeezed him once more and he erupted, his hoarse cry barely audible. He felt so tired. So incredibly tired.
****
There was no light in the cellar. Either Arthur had developed radar or Nick had guessed wrong. Shit.
He paused on the step, aware of that same sense of wrongness he’d felt in Langston’s office. And then he inhaled a whiff of smoke. He reached back to warn Buzz to keep quiet. Was this a trap?
He continued down the steps. At least Daisy wasn’t here. He and Buzz should be able to handle one sick old man.
He flicked on the overhead bulb when he reached the final step. The dim light illuminated a strange tableau. Buzz gasped.
“Alice.”
Her voice was lazy and laced with contempt. “Welcome to my web said the spider to the flies.”
Nick stared at the pistol in his sister-in-law’s hand.
“What the hell’s going on?” Buzz sounded confused. “What’re you doing down here in the dark? Where did you get the gun?”
“I’ll answer your questions if you tell me where you’ve been for the past fifteen days.”
“You’re the partner,” Nick said, his eyes narrowing on her, the truth hitting him. “You’re the one who hired Spuds Langston and killed him. The one who tried to set Buzz up to take the fall. You’re the one who left the letters and butterflies and hit Daisy. You’re the mastermind.”
Buzz pushed past Nick to confront his wife.
“Is it true?”
“You were never as clever as your brother. Except once.”
“But why?”
“I might as well ask you why you married me then left me alone night after night after night.” Alice’s voice was calm, deadly. “What I don’t understand is why you stayed married to me.”
“Aw, Alice. You know it was never any good.”
“You took seven years of my life and now you’re going to pay for it.”
Her voice was calm and dispassionate. There was no discernible malice in it, just determination. Nick knew they were in trouble.
“Of course. I knew you’d eventually destroy Bowman’s Biscuits on your own I didn’t want to wait that long to see the Bowman family groveling in the dirt.
“But you’re a Bowman.”
“You’re such a fool.”
Nick stared at Arthur’s prone body. His eyes were closed, his face, chalky.
“What did you do to Arthur,” he asked.
“A slight sedative. He has the same chance to survive as the rest of you. Just give me the blue diamond and you can live. Otherwise,” she waved the pistol, “I’m afraid I have no choice.”
There was no chance. Even if they could produce the Nazi loot s
he couldn’t afford to let any of them leave the cellar. Nick started to edge closer to her. If they could keep her talking, distract her long enough for him to knock the gun out of her hand, they might have a chance.
“Alice, sweetheart, if this is about the baby, I…”
She cut off the unformed question.
“There was no baby.”
Buzz’s jaw dropped. “No baby? But the doctor’s report, the miscarriage.”
“All faked. I knew you’d fallen for someone else, that it was a matter of time until you’d dump me. I had no intention of losing out on the Bowman’s wealth so I lied about a baby. And you were such a chump. You believed it. Playing Sir Galahad never pays off, Buzz. It’s something you should remember.”
“I don’t think it was about the money,” Nick said, suddenly. “I think you wanted Buzz to love you and he didn’t.”
He realized his mistake when she cocked the pistol in his direction. She was distracted only by the sound of the cellar door opening and a voice.
“Caro? Are you down here? We have to talk.”
Daisy. Goddammitall to hell.
“Get out of here,” he yelled at her. Naturally she ignored the command.
“Nick?” He heard her light footsteps on the stairs. “ “What’s going on down here? Why are there no lights? Is Caro with you?”
“Please join us,” Alice said. She moved the single candle into position to make the gun visible to the newcomer. “We’re talking about old times.”
Daisy gaped at the small group. Her glance fell on the older man on the floor.
“What’s the matter with Arthur?”
“I drugged him.”
Daisy moved toward the gunwoman.
“You were Spuds’s partner, weren’t you,” she said, slowly. “You killed him, didn’t you? I’m guessing he wanted to find the blue diamond and sell it on the black market but you weren’t interested in the money. This was all about revenge.”
“What’re you talking about,” Buzz asked her.
“It’s classic,” Daisy went on. “The woman scorned. Oh, Alice, it wasn’t worth it. You didn’t need a man’s love to be fulfilled. You’re smart and competent. You could do anything on your own.”
The gun hand quivered but Alice’s voice remained calm. Nick continued to inch toward her but he could no longer think clearly. Anxiety clouded his judgement. Damn the interfering little witch. Why couldn’t she have stayed upstairs, out of harm’s way? He willed her to move behind him.
“I loved him and he was about to leave me. I tricked him into marrying me but it was never any good. Now you’ll pay.” Her gaze shifted to Buzz. “You and your whole family. I want that treasure and if I don’t get it in the next sixty seconds, I’ll start shooting. You,” she pointed the gun at Daisy, “will go first.”
Nick’s heart thundered in his chest.
“They’ll hear you upstairs.”
“I don’t think so. Everyone is outside and I’ve got a silencer. Well? Do you have the diamond?”
“Alice,” Buzz begged, dropping to the floor in front of her, “you don’t have to kill all these people. Come with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you have everything you want.”
“Tempting as that offer is,” she said, dryly, “I’m afraid it’s too little too late. I’m going to assume no one has the diamond and therefore, your fates are sealed but there is something I want you to know.”
The woman was obviously enjoying her moment in the spotlight. If only they could prolong it, Nick thought. He was about eight feet away from her. If he could move within six feet he’d have a good chance of flinging himself at her, catching her by surprise and taking the only bullet she’d be able to squeeze off.
“Quentin Crisp is not the father of Caroline Budd’s child,” Alice said.
Nick felt Daisy’s eyes on him but he didn’t move his focus from the woman with the gun.
“The kid was conceived that night at the cabin,” Alice went on. “His father is my loving husband.”
“No, no that’s not right.” Daisy’s voice was agitated. “It isn’t Buzz. Stevie belongs to Nick.” Her voice sounded nearer. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” she said, in a softer voice, “but it’s true. Caro told me.”
The anguish in her voice and the words themselves startled Nick enough to break his concentration at least for an instant.
“He’s not my son, Daisy. I never slept with your sister.”
“I don’t believe you,” Daisy said. She didn’t even hesitate. “My sister wouldn’t lie.”
Pain slammed into him. She chose to believe her sister. Once again he learned the painful lesson; blood is thicker than water. You’d think he’d learn.
“Nick’s right,” said Buzz. He rubbed the back of his neck. “And Alice is right. Caroline and I were together that night. I never told anyone because I was ashamed. She was Nick’s girl. I don’t know why she didn’t tell me about the baby.”
“It was because you were married,” Alice said. “To me. And we were ‘expecting.’”
“Oh God,” Daisy groaned. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”
Had she changed her mind? It didn’t matter. The words had no effect on him. He hardened his heart against her. If they ever got out of this cellar he was on a plane back to L.A. Relationships and family were not for him. He’d finally gotten the message.
“I think that’s enough confession time,” Alice said. She got, lithely, to her feet. “I’m leaving now and, as you can imagine, it would be very awkward for me to leave witnesses. When they discover you’re all dead except Arthur, they’ll believe he’s gone over the edge. They won’t be wrong.”
Nick knew he was too far away but at least he could divert her.
She put both hands on the pistol. “Oh, and I’ve changed my mind about the order. You’ll go first,” she said.
She aimed at Nick just as he hurled himself toward her. Time seemed to expand as he waited to hear the small, deadly pop and feel the searing heat of the lead as it ripped through his flesh. She could hardly miss at this distance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Daisy was moving, too. He saw her scoop up the candle and fling it at the gunwoman’s head. He heard the “pop” but he felt nothing. Had Alice shot wide? And then suddenly Alice was shrieking as flames raced through her hair. She dropped to the floor as the fire quickly caught the dry boxes nearby and dropped onto her clothing.
Nick yelled at Daisy to get out of the cellar as he knocked the gun out of Alice’s hand and tried, without success, to put out the fire.
“I can’t,” she yelled, “Alice shot Buzz.”
Nick’s gut twisted as he smothered the fire with his body. Buzz. He held onto the shrieking Alice, as he gazed helplessly at his unconscious brother. And then the cellar door opened. Caroline ran down the steps, her face white, her eyes huge.
“Call an ambulance,” Daisy shouted, but Caroline didn’t seem to hear her. She dropped to the floor and cradled Buzz’s head.
“Never mind,” Daisy said as she pulled a cell phone out of her pocket. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
All the excitement was over. The Wiccans were gone and Happily Ever After was closed. Alice Bowman languished in a burn unit in a New York hospital. Meanwhile, Arthur Sneed remained at the Bowman Mansion under Isabelle’s care. She’d said she believed in her vows and that she’d decided to forgive him. The police believed he had not been involved in Spud’s murder and the two Bowman brothers, now CEO and director of marketing, had yet to decide whether to prosecute him for sabotage of the company.
The bullet that had hit Buzz Bowman had grazed his skull and, after one night in the hospital, he was back home. Within a few days he and his brother began to strategize about the future of the company.
The few people who knew about the Nazi loot had concluded it was a hoax. Junie provided all of the details for Daisy during her daily call or visit. Caroline called daily, too, anxious to find out whether
Daisy was ready to talk about what had happened. She wasn’t ready to talk. She needed time alone she’d told everyone. The truth was, she was hurt by Caro’s lie but she was devastated by her own reaction to it.
She sat for hours in the Adirondack chair on the cabin’s porch and watched the summer days slip into evening. She’d decided to sell the Gray Lady to the Bowmans if they still wanted it. She was unqualified to run a wedding boutique much less to be a bride herself. She knew nothing about trust or love. Nothing.
When push came to shove, when the chips were down, when it was critical to believe the man she loved, she hadn’t. She’d apologized that night. And the day after and Nick had accepted those apologies with a kind of distant formality. She had let him down in the worst way possible. She had chosen her family over him just the way Theo had done.
He would never really forgive her but it didn’t matter. She would never really forgive herself.
Daisy stared out at the lake and watched it change colors to match the sky. Soon the Gray Lady and the cabin would go back to the Bowmans. Soon her sisters and Stevie would move to Chicago. Soon she would have to think about her own future.
But not yet.
****
“You found anything yet?” Buzz pushed himself back from his desk as the brothers took a break from their daily work trying to restructure Bowman’s Biscuits. “Down in the cellar, I mean.”
“Nope.” Nick didn’t tell his brother he’d stopped looking. He’d spent every evening of the past week in the Gray Lady’s cellar but he hadn’t been searching for the phantom loot.
“It’s been seven days,” Buzz said, with a sigh. “I don’t think Caroline is ever planning to talk to me.”
“Give her time,” Nick advised.
“I don’t want to give her time. Hell, I’ve had a son for seven years. It’s time I got to know him. It’s time he got to know me.”
“What’re you planning to say to her?”
Buzz stared at his older brother.
“I’m going to insist that she marry me.”