A perilous plot, p.8
A Perilous Plot, page 8
Polly swallowed hard, her hands balling into fists until the skin stretched taut. “I’m—” she choked. “I’m fine.”
Tricia shook her head. “No, you’re not. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Polly turned her gaze upon Tricia as though shocked by the offer. “I…I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
Polly’s lips trembled as her face crumpled into a deeper level of anguish. Then she shook her head. “No.” She sat up straighter and shook her head, her features settling into a more normal expression. “I assume you want to speak to the chief.”
“Yes, I would.”
Polly cleared her throat before she touched the intercom key. “Tricia Miles here to see you, sir.”
Seconds later, McDonald replied, “Send her in.”
Polly waved a hand toward McDonald’s office but said nothing.
“Thanks,” Tricia said, and moved to stand before the chief’s door. She knocked.
“Come in.”
Tricia did.
McDonald waved a hand in the direction of one of the two chairs before his desk. Once Tricia was seated, he leaned forward and folded his hands. “What can I do for you today, Tricia?”
“First, tell me why Polly is so upset.”
McDonald leaned back. “As I mentioned before, that’s up to Polly to talk about her circumstances.”
“Oh, don’t give me that line of bull. The poor woman is obviously upset. Is your office doing anything to combat that?”
McDonald let out an exasperated breath. “It’s not within our jurisdiction.”
“That woman is in distress. She doesn’t like me—never has—so she isn’t likely to talk to me.”
“Yes, well…” McDonald seemed to reconsider his previous stance. “It seems her son is suffering from some kind of kidney ailment.”
“And?”
“He needs a transplant. Unfortunately, he lost his job due to his affliction, and his insurance went out the window as well.”
“And?” Tricia demanded.
McDonald shrugged.
Tricia frowned. Did Polly know about the Everett Foundation? Mr. Everett had won the lottery several years before and set up a nonprofit organization to help those in need. Why hadn’t Polly contacted them? Surely if Grace knew of Polly’s son’s plight, she would allocate funds to help him. Tricia decided she’d contact Grace first before she spoke to Polly. The receptionist might not welcome her family problems being discussed by outsiders.
McDonald changed the subject. “What brings you here today? Have you heard from your father?”
“No,” Tricia said. “I’m here because I had lunch with Becca yesterday to talk about the wedding.”
Ian raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Has she consulted you on anything?”
Ian looked thoughtful. “Not really. I mean, isn’t it the bride’s prerogative to decide these things?”
“That depends. Is she expecting you to pay half the cost for everything that goes along with the celebration?”
Ian looked perturbed. “We haven’t really discussed it.”
Tricia nodded, trying to think of a tactful way to introduce a difficult subject. “I always considered you to be a man who enjoyed the simple things in life. A beautiful sunset, a nice bottle of wine…”
Ian nodded, smiling. “That sounds about right.”
“And I figured you’d probably want a pretty straightforward wedding. Nothing too elaborate. A beautiful ceremony with heartfelt vows, a lovely dinner with friends and family, and a honeymoon in a quiet, secluded spot.”
Ian smiled. “That sounds like heaven.”
Tricia nodded and paused for a moment before speaking. “I’m not sure you and Becca are on the same page.”
Ian frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, first of all, Becca wants me to plan, and pay for, a bachelorette party in Vegas and invite a lot of her celebrity friends from the tennis world.”
Ian frowned. “That sounds expensive.”
“It sure does.” Tricia bit her lip, trying to come up with the appropriate language.
“No offense, but as I understand it, you’re not living in poverty,” Ian said.
“No, but I don’t expect to pay tens of thousands of dollars to throw a party for a bunch of people I don’t know, either.”
“I thought you and Becca were best friends,” Ian said, sounding shocked.
“Well, if we are, it’s news to me.”
Ian’s expression darkened. “I don’t understand.”
“The only connection Becca and I have is that she was married to Eugene Chambers, and I had a relationship with him after they divorced.”
Ian’s frown deepened, and he looked even more troubled.
“I’ve suggested to Becca that I may not be the best person to take on the role of maid of honor simply because…I don’t really know her. I asked if she has friends she’s closer to…” Tricia let the sentence hang.
“And?” Ian asked.
Tricia tried not to wince. “It doesn’t sound like she has a best friend she can rely on.”
Ian’s expression grew darker still. “What are you saying? That Becca is incapable of being a true friend?”
“Not at all,” Tricia said, backpedaling. “But I suspect that being in such a cutthroat sport, and under the kind of media scrutiny she’s had to endure for decades, and the fact that she’s probably been sold out by friends and foes alike, it would be hard for her to trust people. She has no reason not to trust me, as I’m pretty sure she knows I have no agenda when it comes to her past, present, or future.”
“Well, I’m grateful for that because, yes, Becca has been exploited in the past by people she trusted—including those in her own family.”
Tricia nodded. “The truth is…I’m not in her league and I really don’t feel comfortable trying to navigate in the world she’s accustomed to.”
“Then why on earth did you agree to be her maid of honor?” Ian asked, sounding confused and more than a little annoyed.
“Actually, I didn’t agree to it. Becca just assumed I’d take it on. I think no matter what I do, she’s bound to be disappointed, and no bride wants that on her wedding day.”
Ian’s brow furrowed. “Then what do you suggest?”
An elopement immediately came to mind, but Tricia didn’t voice that thought. “That you should talk about what both of you want on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your lives.”
McDonald nodded, looking grim. “I’ll do that.”
Tricia stood to leave.
“There’s just one thing,” McDonald said, opening a drawer on the right side of his desk and removing a large kraft envelope. “Here,” he said, proffering the package.
Tricia frowned. “Uh…”
“It’s my manuscript. You said you’d look over it.”
Tricia swallowed and forced a smile. “So I did.” She accepted it. “I’ll get back to you about it soon.”
“Thank you.”
McDonald offered nothing more, so Tricia turned, opened the office door, and left the room.
Tricia clutched the envelope to her chest and headed for the exit but paused before Polly’s desk, wondering if she should say something about the Everett Foundation.
“Did you need something, Ms. Miles?” Polly asked.
“Uh…” Tricia chickened out. She’d find some other way to get the information about the Everett Foundation to Polly. “Nothing. Have a great day,” Tricia said sincerely.
Polly’s lower lip quivered. “It’s doubtful.”
Tricia didn’t know how to reply to that sad statement. She also knew better than to discuss Polly’s situation with Mr. Everett. He left all the decisions for grants from the Everett Foundation to his wife. Tricia would have to speak to her later.
* * *
* * *
The packing crew made good progress before Pixie’s and Mr. Everett’s lunchtime rolled around. “Any idea when the Bookshelf Diner is going to reopen?” Pixie asked Tricia as she shrugged into her jacket.
“Sorry. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
“I sure hope it opens before the tourist season starts. Either that, or I’ll be eating PB and Js every day…again.”
Tricia continued packing, reluctant to dismantle the stereo system until the last minute. As it was, they still had half the store to pack up. They weren’t going to be able to fit all the stock into the basement stockroom, so the carpet installers were going to have to move some of the boxes as the old carpet went out and the new went in. She was so absorbed that it seemed the hour Pixie and Mr. Everett were gone went by in a flash.
Like the day before when she’d met Becca, Tricia was only one minute late for her standing lunch date with Angelica at Booked For Lunch. As it was off-season, the retro café was populated mostly by locals, and Angelica already sat at their reserved booth.
Tricia scooted into it. “Sorry I’m late.”
Angelica was scrolling through her phone and barely noticed her arrival.
Molly, the waitress, swooped in with a carafe of steaming coffee, ready to fill their cups. “Today’s special is enchilada casserole, and the soup-and-half-sandwich special is a BLT and tomato soup.”
“We’ll think about it,” Angelica said, finally setting her phone aside. Molly nodded and moved on to the next table.
“I’m sorry I left you in the lurch last night,” Tricia apologized as she wriggled out of her jacket.
Angelica waved a dismissive hand. “I was a little miffed, but I know Bunny isn’t your favorite person.”
Tricia noted that Angelica had omitted the title of aunt in her sister’s description of the woman. “And after her totally thoughtless admission of being Daddy’s mistress, it took all my resolve not to kick her to the curb.”
Tricia felt the same way. “So, how are you going to deal with her being your houseguest for the foreseeable future?”
“I’m not.”
Tricia’s eyes widened in anticipation. “So, you did kick her out?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Angelica chided her. “Mother thought Bunny was her friend. Knowing how she betrayed her, I certainly don’t want her under my roof—staying in Sofia’s bed.”
“So, what’s your solution?”
“I’m sending her off to Stonecreek Manor,” Angelica said, adding creamer to her coffee. “At first, she wasn’t keen on the idea, but I can be pretty persuasive if I have to be.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That my dear friend Nigela was about to open the manor and was looking for people to participate in the shakedown.”
“And she fell for it?”
“Hook, line, and sinker.”
“And how did Cleo react to the news?”
Angelica leveled an unblinking stare at her sister. “What choice does she have? Nigela called her directly.”
“That voice-altering gizmo you bought a few years back has served you well,” Tricia remarked.
“It certainly has.”
“So, when is Bunny leaving your home?”
“Right after we finish our lunch. She didn’t get up until after ten. I offered her French toast and bacon, or eggs and sausage, or waffles and her choice of meat. She said yes, she wanted it all! Then she demanded that I sit with her as she consumed it.”
“If you’re hell-bent on getting rid of her, why would you offer her a perk like staying at the Stonecreek?”
“Oh, it won’t be a perk,” Angelica said with a touch of an edge to her voice.
Tricia offered half a smile. “And why’s that?”
“Cleo has been instructed to do just the bare minimum for Bunny. She won’t have access to the laundry facilities. The TV in her room won’t be connected. And, unless there are others in for the shakedown, the Wi-Fi will be turned off.”
“Why don’t you just cut off the power to her room?” Tricia asked facetiously.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” Angelica said flatly.
Tricia nodded. “Mother and I have had our differences”—and boy, were they plenty!—“but I don’t condone Daddy cheating on her, not when she’s been paying the freight all these years.”
Angelica shrugged. “And maybe that’s part of the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently, Mother’s financial situation caused her to tighten her belt to keep them afloat. To boost Daddy’s ego, she always let people think he was the one with the bucks. I put the pressure on Bunny, who said Mother had to sell off some of their assets to keep afloat.”
“Such as?”
“The house in Rio. The wonderful flat in London.”
“Gone?” Tricia asked, her heart sinking. She’d always been fond of the London apartment, which was not far from the Houses of Parliament.
Angelica nodded.
Tricia sighed. “That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, if she’d only explained their circumstances and offered it to one of us, we could have given her top bucks for it and kept it in the family.”
Tricia nodded. David had often spoken of a desire to visit the UK, and having a place to park for a couple of weeks would have been the perfect opportunity. Well, should they make such a trip, there were plenty of hotels and other rental options at their disposal. That didn’t make the loss any easier to bear.
“And what room are you giving Bunny? The bridal suite?”
“Not on your life. She gets the only single we have. She’s one person. She doesn’t need the top-of-the-line room.”
“And this is her punishment for her cheating with Daddy?”
“She’ll get breakfast and a beautiful room,” Angelica asserted.
“So, she’s going to have to find lunch and dinner on her own?” Tricia asked.
Angelica nodded. “I’m treating her as I would any other guest. Besides, that’s what everyone else who participates in the shakedown will receive.”
Bunny had driven herself to Stoneham, so it wasn’t like she’d be stranded. She could make her way to any of the local eateries to find sustenance for the other two meals of the day.
“And how much attention are you going to pay Bunny while she’s staying in the village?” Tricia asked.
“As little as possible,” Angelica said tartly.
“Ange, you invited her here.”
“I did not—she invited herself. And I’ve learned all I want to about her relationship with our parents.”
“But the fact that she hasn’t seen Daddy in a while must mean—”
“What? Either that she’s lying or that he didn’t trust her not to blab about what he and Mother are up to?”
“Something like that,” Tricia said. She felt odd being in a position to defend her mother—a woman who had treated her as less than lovable because of an accident of fate.
Molly arrived to take their orders. They both went for the enchilada casserole.
The sisters abandoned their previous conversation, and as Tricia hadn’t had an opportunity to mention her lunch with Becca the previous day; she did so.
Molly arrived with bowls of tortilla chips and salsa. “Your entrées will be up in a few minutes.”
Angelica nodded, and Molly retreated. “Do you think Becca will talk to Ian about her grand plans?”
“Eventually. But she can be a master of misrepresentation, so I’m betting he won’t be privy to everything she’s got in mind.”
“So, are you going to tattle on her to Ian?”
Tricia frowned. “You make it sound so petty.”
“Isn’t it?” Angelica asked.
“No! Ian’s my friend, and I’ve already spoken to him about it.”
Angelica scrutinized her sister’s face before shaking her head. “Sometimes I think you’re too friendly with the man.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw your expression when Becca announced their engagement. You were shocked—and disappointed.”
“I won’t deny that,” Tricia remarked.
“But were you disappointed because you thought one day you’d have a chance to be with Ian?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tricia asserted.
“Is that what I’m being?” Angelica asked, her eyes wide.
“Yes! Besides, I’m gloriously happy with David.”
Angelica nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
Luckily, Molly arrived with their lunch plates, which put an end to the conversation. After she left, Angelica picked up her fork to cut a piece of the casserole. “Do you mind if we have dinner at your place tonight?”
“Not at all, but why?”
“Because I told Bunny I had a last-minute business meeting come up. ‘Last minute’ being the operative description.”
Tricia shook her head. “Okay, and I promise to come up with something yummy to eat.”
“I’ll take stale bread and water if it means I don’t have to spend any part of the evening with Bunny.”
Angelica had always liked the woman—much to Tricia’s chagrin. Her change of heart was telling.
“With all that said,” Angelica continued, “I suppose I’ll have to pay her some attention while she’s here.”
“And how much time?”
“No more than thirty minutes a day.”
Angelica really did want to encourage Bunny to leave. After all, besides a bed-and-breakfast, there wasn’t much else to entice the woman to stay in Stoneham. Unless…she hoped to connect with John Miles.
Tricia didn’t like to think about it.
After lunch, Tricia returned to her store, but she took ten extra minutes to hit the basement office’s computer to peruse the Everett Foundation website. It plainly stated that those who wished help had to fill out the appropriate form and submit it online or via snail mail. Tricia downloaded the form, printed it, and put it in an envelope, printing out a sticky label addressed to Polly Burgess in care of the Stoneham Police Department. She sealed the envelope, put a stamp on it, and would put it out to be mailed the next day. After that, it was up to Polly to follow through.
