by Tessa Kelly
No matter. The thing with her and Tyrone had gone on long enough. Time to put an end to it once and for all.
“You’re going to talk to him,” I said. “Yell at him if you want to. Even if you never speak again, it’s still better than what’s been going on these past days.”
Her lips trembled. “He’s cheating on me. Why would he even want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. But he made me promise I’d bring you over after you didn’t open to him last night.”
Following my advice, Tyrone had gone to our apartment in an attempt to talk to Felisha, only to be met with a closed door and her steadfast refusal to open.
I pushed Felisha into the café, just as Tyrone sauntered out from the back, the buxom, skimpy-clad reason for all the drama following in his wake.
Felisha’s eyes fixed on her with a warrior’s blaze. I took a step back—in case there was a fight, I had my opera dress to think about—and peered at Tyrone. As much as I despised the guy for what he’d done, a part of me almost felt sorry for him. Caught red-handed. How was he going to handle this one?
Tyrone’s grin at the sight of Felisha lit up the entire café. He lunged forward. “Hey, girl. Finally, you here. I missed you!”
With a cry of indignation, Felisha lurched away from him. I silently congratulated myself for retreating as she would’ve rammed straight into me.
Felisha’s eyes filled with tears. “How can you do this? What’s wrong with you?”
Tyrone stopped in the middle of the floor, his dark eyes clouding over with confusion. “What you mean, girl?”
“Her!” Felisha pointed an accusatory finger at the young woman over by the counter watching us with avid curiosity. “Who is she? How long has this been going on?”
Tyrone looked back, then turned around again and blinked at Felisha. Slowly, his eyes cleared as understanding dawned on him. He grinned again.
“That’s Ayana. She’s my cousin, girl! She visiting from New Orleans to look at colleges. I been showing her round town.”
There was a moment of silence during which Felisha looked back at me, her eyes wide with surprise. “She’s his cousin?”
An explosion of laughter drew our attention to an audience by the counter. Valeria and Ayana were finding all of this hilarious.
Ayana bounced over. She looked Felisha up and down and gave a loud whistle.
“T’s been telling me about you. He said you were hot but, damn!” She gave my friend a tight hug.
Kathy materialized at my side seemingly out of nowhere, making me jump. “Does that mean those two are okay now?” she whispered.
“Looks like it.” I shrugged, dazed by the sudden turnabout of events.
She passed a hand over her forehead. “Let’s hope so. And thanks for forcing them together. My business can’t handle lovesick employees skipping out on me.” Then she squeezed my shoulder. “You have some time before the opera?”
I nodded, feeling slightly overdressed in my red gown. But Liam wasn’t done with his shift yet. Alex, his boss, wouldn’t let him off early, still harboring resentment from when I briefly suspected him of murdering his business partner over two months ago. I hoped he wouldn’t hold it against me forever.
With Liam still at work, we were cutting it close and would have to dash off the moment he was done, if we hoped to get to the opera on time. Which was why I decided to wait for him at the bakery.
“You can tell us about the murder while you wait,” Kathy suggested. “Did the police find any evidence to confirm your suspicions?”
I glanced over the faces of my audience as they gathered around me, suddenly watching me with rapt attention. All except Kathy’s husband and Josh.
Josh was at the opening of the art festival, where his paintings were no doubt making a splash.
Jeff? It was a fair bet we wouldn’t be seeing much of him anymore. At the moment, I couldn’t bring myself to feel badly about that.
“Just as I thought, Kenneth and Caroline had been selling forgeries of Marcel Bright’s works to dealers overseas,” I said. “Unfortunately for them, one of the paintings made it back to the States and ended up in Fabian Morris’s collection. On learning that Marcel had seen it, Caroline and Kenneth panicked. To add to the injury, it now turns out Kenneth was going bankrupt and needed the money to rescue his business. So they hatched a plan. They would kill the artist on the night of the private showing, and no one would ever know the paintings were fake.”
“But then Alexa got in the way,” Kathy said.
“Yes. The minute Alexa saw Kenneth entering the gallery, she was doomed. He and Caroline figured it was a lucky break for them because Alexa’s murder would confuse the investigation and keep the police from guessing at the real motive for the crime. Which it almost did.”
“And Caroline really got a text from Dan Cobbs the night you and Josh had drinks with her?” Felisha asked, leaning against Tyrone who draped his arm around her.
I nodded. “The police found that message. It’s as I said.”
Outside, a cab pulled to the curb and Liam got out looking handsome in a black suit. He held the cab door open and waved me over with a grin.
“That’s my cue.” I rose but then went over to Kathy and gave her a tight hug. “Thanks so much for the dress.”
She hugged me back, squeezing tighter than usual. “You’re very welcome. Enjoy the opera, okay?” Her eyes looked into mine with sadness, and I felt a pained tug in my throat, suddenly worried about leaving her.
She and Jeff finally admitted to each other they'd hit a wall in their marriage and were getting a divorce.
“You should tell Dad,” I whispered. “You know he’ll understand. He's on your side.”
She sighed. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll tell him tonight.” Then she forced out a smile. “Go on. Have a good time, Sandie. You deserve it.”
Out on the street, Liam was pointing to his watch in mock frustration.
I grinned. Kathy was right. Just like Jeremiah, after everything I’d been through lately, I deserved a nice evening out.
THE LIGHTS WENT ON around us and the heavy red curtain was lowered over the stage. Liam leaned toward me, one eye fixed suspiciously on his program.
“It’s not over yet, right?” he whispered.
I shook my head. “This is the intermission. But what do you think? Like it so far?”
“Wasn’t sure I would.” He grinned. “But this is great, really glad we came. I feel like I'm Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”
I snorted. “Thanks. That makes me Richard Gere.”
“Romance me, honey. I want to be swept off my feet.” Reaching over, Liam laced his fingers with mine, his eyes watching me to gauge my reaction.
I looked down at our hands. It felt nice. Really nice.
But I had to focus, couldn’t lose track of the real reason I was here tonight.
From our balcony seats, the parterre below was clearly visible. The patrons were rising from their seats and filing out. Most of them would head to the buffet.
“We’ve got about thirty minutes,” I said. “Let’s get something to drink.”
“Sure thing. But it’s on me. Only fair, since you paid for the tickets.”
I spotted Mrs. O'Hara and Jeremiah as we neared the buffet line. Standing close and talking together like old friends, looking at home in each other's company. I made a beeline over to them while Liam got in line at the back.
Mrs. O’Hara beamed at me. “Sandie, dear! I didn’t know you were coming to this.” She took in my outfit and clapped her hands in a gush of admiration. “Oh, my. You look gorgeous!”
“Thank you.” I hugged her to hide my embarrassment and shook hands with Jeremiah who repeated her compliment, making my cheeks heat up even more. “I hadn't actually planned on coming. This was all very last minute.”
I scanned the well-dressed crowd milling around on the carpeted floor and my foot tapped a nervous rhythm. What if he wasn't here tonight?
/> “What would you like, dear? We’ll get it for you,” Mrs. O’Hara said glancing at Liam at the end of the long line. She waved him over.
“You don’t have to,” I protested.
“Nonsense. The way this line is moving, you might not get there before the next act starts.”
Liam handed her a twenty as he came over. “Much obliged. Two sparkling wines for us.” He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Right?”
I nodded. “Right.”
“Look at that,” Jeremiah said. “Knows what she wants without even having to ask. Sandie, I think you’ve got yourself a keeper.”
The two of them laughed, evidently enjoying the spectacle of watching me turn beet red.
Several people at the front of the line glanced back to see who was having such a merry time. Curiosity satisfied, they turned away again. All except a man in a black suit with a white scarf draped over his shoulders whose eyes lingered on me in surprise.
Anticipation gripped my muscles but I tried to look relaxed as I smiled and waved him over.
“Mr. Edwards, would you come and meet my friends?”
John Edwards paid for his drink and tossed the change in the tip jar, then headed towards us. Suddenly, his steps faltered. His face turned pale as he stared past me at Mrs. O’Hara and Jeremiah.
“Uncle Henry? Is it you?”
Jeremiah looked at him with polite surprise. “I’m sorry, young man. Do you know me?”
I stepped forward, my heart pounding harder than it did chasing Caroline across Marcel Bright’s lawn.
“Jeremiah, this is John Edwards. I believe he is your nephew.”
A moment of stunned silence followed. Before anyone could say a word, John Edwards threw his arms around the older man whose eyes turned red with unshed tears. Beside them, Mrs. O’Hara clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle sobs.
“Uncle Henry.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. They told me you left London over a year ago. I was starting to fear the worst.”
They stepped apart and looked at each other, John Edwards with the joy of recognition, his uncle with confusion and doubt, but also with hope. Slowly, the latter wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. He looked from Mrs. O’Hara to me.
“So. I take it, then, my name isn’t Jeremiah Copeland.”
I shook my head. “Your name is Henry Edwards, and you’re this man’s uncle. Also, I think you might be rich.”
Liam peered down at me, looking amazed. “Is that why you wanted to come to the opera tonight? I was wondering. How did you know?”
I wiped my eyes. A part of me had worried John Edwards would react coldly to being reunited with his uncle. The joy with which he welcomed Henry back was worth all the opera tickets in the world.
“I suspected it at Fabian Morris’s soiree,” I said. “When Mr. Edwards showed me the photograph of his family. The resemblance between his father and Henry was uncanny. I was almost sure but didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes so I asked my brother to look into it for me. We learned Mr. Edwards had an uncle who was retired and living in London for the past fifteen years.”
I paused, hoping John Edwards wasn't upset with me for looking into his family history.
He just nodded. “That’s true, my father didn’t speak to his brother in the last years of his life. It was very distressing as we all used to be quite close before Henry moved away.”
Just as I thought. So far, my information was correct. I turned to Henry.
“On hearing about your brother’s death, you decided to come back to the States. I think it was to patch things up with your nephew. You didn’t tell anyone you were coming, though. Will and I guessed all this after we got in touch with the lawyer who handled the sale of your property in London. We don’t know yet what happened from there, but we suspect you were on your way to Boston when you were robbed and lost your memory. Tonight was the perfect place to bring you two together. I’d asked my brother to check out the list of MET patrons, and he came up with John Edwards so I knew he had season tickets. I hoped if he saw you, he would recognize you.”
“And you were right.” John Edwards turned to Henry. “We can always do a DNA test to be sure, but there’s no doubt in my mind you’re my uncle.”
The bell rang announcing the end of the intermission. There was no question of going back for the second act, though. John Edwards wouldn’t hear of it.
He led the five of us outside and had the valet bring his car around from the garage. Then he drove straight to the homeless shelter and insisted his uncle be released immediately.
An hour and a half later, we stood on the curb in front of his car while John loaded his uncle’s meager possessions into the trunk.
Henry hugged us all in turn and stopped before Mrs. O’Hara who suddenly seemed small and shy as she looked at him quietly.
He smiled, also nervous. “Geraldine, I hope this isn’t goodbye. Boston’s not that far away. We’ll continue to be friends, won’t we?”
A smile lit up her face, making her look twenty years younger. “I’d like that... Henry. Very much.”
He beamed at her in obvious relief. “I’ll come down and take you to the opera, and you can visit me if you’d like.” He glanced a question at his nephew.
“Of course your friends are welcome in my house, uncle.” John closed the trunk and came over to me and Liam. The three of us grinned at each other.
“When the time comes, I expect to be invited to the wedding,” I whispered.
John winked at me, his deep blue eyes shining with warmth. “Shall we give you a ride home?”
Liam hugged my waist, drawing me closer to him. “The night’s still young. You don’t feel like going back, do you?”
I shook my head as I leaned into his warmth. Definitely not.
“All right. But we must at least take Geraldine home,” Henry insisted.
We said goodnight and watched them drive away.
I turned to Liam. “What did you have in mind?”
He raised his hand to hail a cab, a playful smile on his lips. “You’ll see.”
It took a fifteen-minute ride and a short stroll through Central Park. We entered the gates of the ice skating rink where Liam bought two entry tickets. Sitting on the bench as we tied our rental skates, I glanced over at him.
“This is amazing. How did you know I liked ice skating?”
“You mentioned it once when you were at the bar.”
“And you remembered?”
“I told you, I make note of the things I like.” He offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet, staring down at me with open admiration.
“Let’s skate.”
An hour later, out of breath but still laughing, we stopped for the mandatory ice-skating hot chocolates. Liam took a sip from his paper cup and studied me with a peculiar expression in his eyes. He cleared his throat.
“I know tonight wasn't all about us, but I gotta ask. Apart from reuniting a family and saving a guy from the homeless shelter, are you having a good time? Not wishing you were with someone else, are you?”
Was he asking if I’d rather be out with Josh? Amazingly, I hadn’t thought of him all night.
I studied Liam’s handsome features and my eyes paused on the sensual curve of his upper lip. If I'd known two months ago a date with him would be so much fun, I wouldn’t have waited so long.
Stepping closer, I took his hand, delighting as his warm fingers wrapped around mine.
“I’m having the best time, Liam.”
DON’T ROCK THE BOAT!
A Sandie James Mystery
Book 3
Chapter 1
A wedding is a joyous occasion. Haven’t I said it somewhere before? Well, I stand by it. A wedding is a time to celebrate love and commitment, to raise a glass with that special plus-one standing by your side.
But not if your plus-one is a dog.
Marlowe’s barking filled the air as he hurtled down the ferry deck, his le
ash slithering behind him like a thin gray snake. All around us, heads were turning and necks craning to see who was making such a ruckus.
I sprinted after the silly spaniel, narrowly avoiding a collision with a large woman in a flouncy salad-green dress. She stumbled out of the way in a whirl of frills and screeched something after me which was probably unflattering. I didn’t stop to make sure.
All my attention was concentrated on the brown, floppy-eared menace bounding toward the railing in the back of the ferry. I had to catch him before he leaped overboard in his excitement.
Should’ve known the seagulls would be too much for him and kept a better grip on the leash.
This was Marlowe’s first time on a large boat and all the sights and sounds had worked him into a frenzy. He reached the back of the ferry and placed his front paws on the railing, barking his lungs out at the brazen birds. They were teasing him, taking turns flying too close and then retreating, as if trying to provoke him into taking the plunge that would send him down into the white churning tail of the propeller.
But I was almost there. I wouldn’t lose my mark now. Salty wind blowing hair in my face, I dived forward onto the hard floor. My fingers closed around Marlowe’s leash.
Gotcha!
I wound the leash around my wrist. This barking disaster of a dog wouldn’t get away from me again.
Conscious of everyone’s stares, I rose to my feet and rubbed my elbow where I’d hit it on the floor, then smoothed out my skirt as best I could. From the other side of the deck, my older sister Kathy and her friend Tray were hurrying over to me.
“Are you all right, sweetie?” To Kathy’s credit, she kept her face straight which couldn’t have been easy, considering she just watched me clean the boards with my chin.
“I’m fine. A few bruises, but mostly to my ego.”
I threw Marlowe a rueful glance. Yep. This date was off to a rocky start.
A few passengers continued to stare, exchanging not-so-discreet giggles. I turned my back on them and leaned my good elbow on the railing. Seriously, my stunt-woman maneuver hadn’t been that entertaining!