by Nic Saint
“See?” said Tessa. “This is what I have to deal with. And all because I happened to fall in love with a sweet and gentle guy.”
“Tough,” said Odelia as she watched the reporter closely. “So could he be the one trying to kill you?”
“Who knows?” said Tessa. “I’m starting to think they’re all out to get me.”
“At least you have your security people,” said Angela, squeezing her daughter’s arm. “I think they’ll be more vigilant from now on.”
“I hope so. They haven’t exactly done a great job so far.”
“Maybe you should talk to the police,” Odelia suggested. “Tell them about the stone thing, and the poisoned tea. They have resources we don’t. And they can protect you and put the word out. The killer will probably think twice before trying again if he or she knows that the police are onto them.”
“Out of the question,” said Angela. “Tess’s position is iffy as it is. If the public became aware there’s a killer out to get her, there will be a big scandal. The Queen will personally kick her out of the family and the country.”
“Dante would never allow that,” said Odelia.
“Dante would have to choose between staying married to my daughter or having a place in the royal family.”
“The Queen would never do that.”
“Oh, yes, she would. There’s a precedent. The Queen’s uncle married an American widow and was forced to abdicate and was pretty much ostracized.”
“That was a long time ago,” said Odelia. “The times have changed.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. A murder scandal? That’s the last thing this family needs. No, this has to stay under wraps. It absolutely must. Right, Tessa?”
Tessa nodded distractedly. She was pale, Odelia thought, the whole thing clearly getting under the young woman’s skin. Which wasn’t surprising.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “Chase and I will figure it out.” And the cats, she thought. Though so far they didn’t have a lot to go on. Then again, they’d only been there for a couple of hours.
“Tomorrow I have an important speech I need to give in town,” said Tessa. “Will you join me? It would mean a lot if you did. And you, of course, Mom.”
“We will be there,” said Odelia.
“Of course, honey,” said Angela. “I won’t leave your side for a second.”
“Thanks—and sorry about all of this. When I got married to Dante I never dreamed…” She stifled a muted sob.
“Oh, honey,” said Angela, rubbing her daughter’s back. “You couldn’t have known things would get so bad.”
Tessa nodded, and the three women stared at the reporter, who was still defending his constitutional right to take pictures of a royal, for his own benefit and that of his bank account.
Despicable man, Odelia thought. How could he live with himself? He didn’t look like a murderer, though. But when she thought that camera he aimed at Tessa and the baby could very well have been a gun, she shivered.
“You really need to talk to your cousin,” she said. “This should never have been allowed to happen.”
“I will,” said Tessa. “For the sake of Silvy, this absolutely can’t happen again.”
As if she understood, Silvy sneezed, and the three women smiled. At least there was one little ray of sunshine in Tessa’s life.
Chapter 15
The house was quiet and not a creature stirred except for four cats and, possibly, one dog. Though I imagined Fluffy was sleeping contentedly, that swath of fabric she’d ripped from the reporter’s pants between her paws.
Odelia had left the door to the room open, so we could come and go as we pleased. She would have done the same with the window that led out to a wraparound terrace but that wouldn’t have been wise. Besides, all the windows had security locks on them, and they were all connected to the security system that fed into the security room at the back of the house, where activity had been ramped up after the disastrous incident with the reporter.
Odelia and Chase were watching an interview with that very same reporter, where the man railed virulently against Tessa and demanded she ‘fall in line or bugger the hell off,’ which apparently meant she had to go away.
“British English is such a strange language,” Dooley commented. “Bugger the hell off. That sounds so weird and so funny at the same time.”
“It does,” I agreed. “But I don’t think he meant it to sound funny.”
Otis Robbins also claimed Tessa was the worst thing that had ever happened to England in its long history. He claimed she was up there with Adolf Hitler and the bubonic plague. It all seemed a little over the top to me. How could a sweet American girl be worse than Adolf Hitler or the bubonic plague? It only proved to me that the British tabloid press was cuckoo.
Odelia had explained there were essentially two types of media in this country. One was the quality press, who adhered to journalistic integrity, and the other the tabloid press, who just wrote whatever, whether true or false, and seemed to have it in for Tessa, whom they liked to accuse of every evil under the sun, as if she was the worst criminal ever to set foot on English soil.
“Poor Tessa,” said Harriet now. “To have an entire section of the population pitted against her. Do you think she’ll be able to survive out here?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “These tabloids are apparently read by millions of Britons, so they’re turning her into a target for all of those readers.”
“I doubt whether every single reader who picks up a so-called tabloid believes every word they write, though,” said Harriet, sensibly.
“Even if only a fraction of them do, Tessa has a serious problem.”
“I think she needs to move back to the States,” said Brutus. “It’s obvious they don’t appreciate her here, so why stick it out? That’s just crazy.”
“I agree,” said Harriet. “She should move back to the States and enjoy a wonderful life with her new husband and their newborn baby.”
“But she can’t,” I said. “Dante has a lot of royal duties here.”
“Like what?” asked Dooley.
“Like... I don’t know. Probably he has to cut a lot of ribbons and open a lot of county fairs and stuff like that.”
“I don’t think he’s going to miss cutting ribbons,” said Brutus. “And if he does, there’s plenty of ribbons for him to cut in the States.”
“Yes,” said Dooley. “There are lots of nice ribbons in Hampton Cove. He can come and live next door and cut ribbons to his heart’s content.”
“It’s not just the ribbons, you guys,” I said. “He probably has a lot of other duties, and besides, he’s going to miss his family, isn’t he?”
“He can Skype,” said Harriet.
“Yes, he can Skype,” agreed Dooley.
Speaking of Skype, just then we heard a familiar voice. It was Marge.
“Hey, honey,” said Marge. “How’s the jet lag?”
“Not too bad,” said Odelia. “What time is it over there anyway?”
“Around dinner time.”
“Yes, we were just going to start dinner,” said Tex. “What time do you have?”
“Middle of the night,” said Odelia. “We had a big scare just now, and we’re all a little shook up.”
“An intruder tried to snap pictures of Tessa and the baby,” Chase said.
“How horrible,” said Marge. “I hope the police arrested him?”
“No, they haven’t,” said Chase. “Apparently he had every right to shoot pictures, and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”
“You need to watch out, honey,” said Tex. “I just read a story about how the English hate us Yankees so much they’ll do anything to get rid of us.”
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,” said Chase with a laugh.
“They don’t like Tessa, though,” said Marge.
“I think a lot of people love Tessa,” said Odelia. “Only the tabloids don’t. Unfortunately they have
the biggest megaphone, which distorts the picture.”
Gran had snuck into the room and sat down next to Odelia and Chase.
“Hey, honey,” she said, adding after a long pause, “and Tex.”
“How do you like England so far, Ma?” asked Marge.
Gran pulled a face, which said it all.
“I think she’s suffering from jet lag,” said Odelia.
She was right. Gran had been unusually quiet and had stayed out of trouble all night. She looked tired, too. Not her vivacious and sprightly self.
“I’m pretty much beat,” she said now, confirming our suspicions.
“Better go to bed,” said Odelia.
“That’s the problem. I went to bed, and I can’t sleep.” She got up. “Maybe I need some warm milk.” And she tottered off, closing the door behind her.
“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” said Tex. “Be careful, will you? Don’t get in the line of fire.”
“It’s not as bad as all that,” said Odelia. “It’s not as if snipers are shooting at us from all sides.”
“There was an incident with poisoned tea, though,” said Chase.
“Poisoned tea!” Marge cried. “Oh, honey…”
“It’s fine, Mom. We’ve got everything under control here. And as soon as we have a chance, we’ll talk to some more people and figure this thing out.”
“Too bad there are no more canine witnesses,” said Harriet. “Or we could have solved this case already.”
She was right. There was only Fluffy, and she’d already told us everything she knew.
“I have a feeling this is not going be the open-and-shut case Odelia thought it was going to be,” said Dooley, and never had truer words been spoken.
Odelia and Chase said their goodbyes to her folks and logged off, then went to bed.
Soon the house was quiet, except for four cats and presumably one dog.
And I know many of you are not familiar with the concept of a watchcat, but that’s how I now saw myself. After the stone incident, the tea incident, and now the reporter scare, I vowed to keep a watchful eye for potential nocturnal intruders, friendly or otherwise. And so the four of us tiptoed into the living area and took up position on the several windows that looked out into the night. I took this vigil seriously, and so did the others. I’d grown fond of Tessa, in spite of the fact that we’d only just met. A young mother with a newborn, being bullied the way she was, had touched my heart. I vowed not to let anything happen to her, even if I had to take a bite out of some human’s seat of the pants myself—no matter how horrible the taste.
Soon Fluffy joined us, and we were on full animal alert.
“Let’s see who dares to mess with us now,” growled Brutus from the second window.
“He’s going to have to get past me first,” said Harriet from the third window.
“And me,” said Dooley, from the fourth window.
“You know what?” said Fluffy. “I like you guys. For a bunch of cats you’re all right.”
Cats and dogs? Living together in peace and harmony. Who knew?!
Chapter 16
In spite of the fact that she was bone tired, Odelia hadn’t slept well. She’d been tossing and turning and kept dreaming of nocturnal intruders out to get her. So when she suddenly awoke, thinking it was still the middle of the night, she was surprised to find the sun hoisting itself cheerfully across the horizon and announcing a brand-new day.
It didn’t feel like morning to her, though, and then she realized that her biological clock was still on New York time, where it was the middle of the night right now.
Chase was zonked out next to her, sleeping the sleep of the innocent, and of her four cats there was no trace.
She rubbed her eyes and glanced around at her surroundings. She was starting to realize this was a crazy mission, and maybe they’d been rash to accept it. It could literally take weeks before they figured out who was behind these attacks on Tessa, or maybe never. And all the while she was out here in London while she could have written a ton of articles for the Hampton Cove Gazette.
She’d promised her editor a killer article from the London trenches, and the prospect of a couple of juicy stories about British royalty had smoothed over any objections Dan had. Still, she couldn’t afford to stay away for too long, and she already felt she was imposing on Tessa’s and Dante’s hospitality simply by being here and sleeping under their roof.
She got up and padded barefoot to the window. Right outside, a burly security guard stood sentinel. She was pleasantly surprised. With this level of security the would-be assassin surely would think twice before trying again.
Yawning, she opened the door and walked into the living room. She was gratified to find four cats and a dog sleeping soundly on the couch. She smiled as she studied them for a moment, then went back into her room, got out her phone and returned to snap a shot of the sleeping pets. They looked so peaceful. At least the fear she had about dragging them all the way out here had been unfounded: clearly they were neither traumatized nor unhappy.
It was then that she heard voices. She decided to have a closer listen, as the voices were rising in pitch and volume. An argument was clearly brewing.
“I told you, Tessa. I can make a perfectly acceptable smoothie. In fact I wrote the book on smoothies.”
“I know you did, Carolyn, But it’s just something I like to do myself, so please don’t take this as a comment on your work, but—”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. If you won’t let me make you breakfast, lunch and dinner what did you hire me for?”
Odelia walked in to see a red-faced woman with gray hair standing, fists planted on wide hips, trying to stare Tessa down. Tessa wasn’t having it, though. She was standing her ground.
“Look, I’ve been making my own smoothies all my life,” she said, “and I’m not about to stop now just because we happen to have a wonderful cook. No offense, but if I choose to make a smoothie in my own kitchen, I’m perfectly entitled to, am I right?”
The cook, who’d noticed Odelia, shook her head disgustedly, then removed her apron, threw it on top of the kitchen counter and walked out. Obviously she wasn’t happy with Tessa’s smoothie-making prowess.
Tessa gave Odelia an overwrought look and Odelia returned the look with a ‘What are you gonna do?’ gesture. She decided to have a little chat with the cook. Strike the iron while it was hot, so to speak.
“Hey, Carolyn,” she said, following the cook into the living room. “I’m sorry but I happened to overhear you and Tessa just now.”
“You heard? Oh, good,” said the woman, shaking her head. “Of all the overbearing…”
“You don’t appreciate it when people set foot in your kitchen, is that it?” asked Odelia, who’d never had a cook before, and had no idea how the whole cook-employer dynamic worked.
“It’s not that. She can make all the smoothies she wants. It’s just that whatever I do, it never seems to be good enough. I made them a perfectly fine smoothie yesterday. Dante drank it and said it was the best smoothie he’d ever tasted. Tessa? She pulled a face. And then started grilling me on what I put into it. I wrote the book on smoothies! Literally. It was a bestseller. I’ve worked for some of the most demanding employers imaginable but she,” she said, pointing a quivering finger in the direction of the kitchen, “takes the cake.”
“Tough employer, huh?” said Odelia sympathetically.
“She’s impossible to please! Always some point of criticism. I’ve had it up to here,” she said, indicating her nose. “And you know what? I quit. That’s right. I quit right now!” She seemed to have just come to this conclusion. “So you tell the Duchess that she’s lost her cook and good riddance!”
And with these words, she walked out before Odelia could ask her about the poisoned tea, which had been her intention in the first place.
She stared after the woman, and wondered if she was watching a killer walk away. Somehow she had
a feeling she wasn’t.
Chapter 17
Gran felt as if she awoke from a deep coma. “Man, oh, man,” she groaned as she dragged open her eyelids. She wanted to sleep more—a lot more. But the sun was up and so should she. She was of a generation that believed in going to bed with the chickens and getting up when the cock crowed and she wasn’t going to change now. She felt weary, though, and realized this was the dreaded jet lag. But she wasn’t the person to let a silly little notion like that get her down. So she got up and stared at the person in the other bed.
“What are you staring at?” this person asked, and stretched awkwardly.
Memory returned and she realized who her roommate was.
“Angela,” she said.
“That’s my name—don’t wear it out.”
“Oh, God, I feel terrible,” said Gran.
“Jet lag,” said her roommate. “You’ll get used to it.”
“That’s right. You’ve been coming and going a lot, haven’t you?”
“I have. And I hate it. Each time I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Must be tough,” Gran offered sympathetically.
“It is. But what are you gonna do? If your only child marries a British prince, traveling to and fro kinda comes with the territory.”
“Why don’t you move here?”
“Are you nuts?” She gave her a critical look. “I have my own life thank you very much. I can’t just uproot it just to come and be a full-time babysitter. Besides, my friends, my family, everyone and everything is back home.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to move here either, even if Odelia married a prince.”
“It’s not just that. I don’t want to be in their way. A young married couple doesn’t need an overbearing mother hen hanging around. If I overstayed my welcome something tells me Dante would probably take a crack at me!”
“You still think it’s Dante that’s behind this whole terrible business?”
“I don’t know what to think. Keep an open mind, right? Don’t trust anyone. So why should I make an exception for the man my daughter married?”