Bouquet of Lies (14 page)

“Extremely valid . . .” Lacey heard her sister coming down the stairs, singing. She laughed.

“What?” Courtney asked.

“Darla. She’s in love. It’s adorable.”

“Love? This is the first I’ve heard. Who’s the lucky fella?”

“Randy.”

“Randy? Your Randy?”

“He’s not mine. I gave him up for better or worse. Remember?”

“You took a vow?”

“Yes. And I wore black. Walked down the aisle. The whole bit.”

“And didn’t invite me?”

“Sorry. It was sort of spontaneous. Didn’t invite anybody.”

Darla appeared in the doorway with the cautious look of a toddler wary of strangers. In a thin, frightened voice she called, “Hello? Mom?”

“Oh, jeez. Courtney, I’ll talk to you later.” Lacey sat up and put the phone away. “No, Darla. It’s me.”

Darla stepped inside, but just barely. “What are you doing in here?”

“I was talking to Courtney. Come sit.” She moved the photos to the floor and slid them under the couch.

“Uh.” Darla took a couple of steps and stalled.

“There are . . .”
No ghosts in here
, Lacey almost said, but thought better of it. “Heard you singing.”

“So?”

“So it was nice.”

Darla moved around the couch and sat next to her sister. “I hate this room. It’s scary. Now it’s scarier and I hate it more.”

“I know. But you’re in high spirits today. The dashing Randy?”

“Don’t make fun.”

“Darla, I always make fun.”

“Well, don’t. Not about him. He’s wonderful. And he’s taking me out again tonight.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Really?”

“I’ve always wanted you to get out of the house. You know that. I happen to think Jake is better for you—”

“What?”

“What, what? He likes you. Always has.”

“He likes you.”

“As a friend. You were always the special one.”

Darla sat speechless. Then she said, “I think Randy loves me. I love him.”

“Wow . . . wow.” Lacey felt like she’d been slugged. This Randy-Darla thing was moving like a bullet train. Her motherly instincts surfaced and she wanted to tell her sister to slow down. She was only seventeen—a sheltered seventeen who read too many romance novels and put herself in the place of the heroine instead of living her own life. But she couldn’t say that, could she? Because now that Darla was seeing Randy, she
was
living her own life. It was a Catch-22.

She looked at her sister, green-eyed and innocent. If only she could put the brakes on for her. Randy was so commitment-minded, so possessive. Darla needed to experience more of life, more boyfriends than just one before she got serious. She saw the intent look on Darla’s face and knew she couldn’t tell her that. Not with the way Darla had been acting toward her lately. Defensive and distrustful. Almost like they were enemies. She choked back all words of advice.

“Okay. Love. Got it.” She squeezed her sister’s hand and smiled and Darla halfway smiled back. Light from the window caught the chain around Darla’s neck. The locket was under her shirt. In one swift grab, Lacey lifted it from concealment.

Darla quickly put her hand on Lacey’s hand. “What are you doing?”

“I need to see Mom’s picture.”

“How—” Darla stared, dumbfounded.

“Yes, I know about your locket. I used to have one just like it.”

Darla let go and her mouth dropped. “You did?”

“Lost it. I thought maybe this was mine when I saw it in your room way back when, but ah . . .” Lacey opened it and stared at the photograph of their mother. Mentally, she compared it to the woman in Maggot’s photos.

“But what?”

“Have you ever taken out the picture?”

Darla shook her head.

Lacey removed it and showed Darla the initials D.B. were engraved in the gold. “Mine had my initials.”

Darla looked confused. Then she looked mad. “All this time you knew!”

Lacey shook her head. “I always thought Grandmama Harriet gave them to us.”

“No! Mom did.”

“Mom the ghost? Or Mom the person?” Lacey stared at the photo. “What is it you believe now?”

Darla snatched the locket and the picture and stood. “What do you care?”

“Stop acting like you hate me. I care. I care a lot. And I happen to think that you were right. Mom’s alive.”

Darla cocked her head. “She is?”

“I need to confirm it.”
And not with a psychic
. “But I’m fairly certain.”

Darla’s expression softened. “You believe me now? That I saw Mom in this room? That she killed Dad.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe she just led you to the body. But, yes, I believe you saw Mom.”

Darla remained frozen for a couple of seconds. Then she grabbed Lacey and kissed her hard on the cheek. It was something she hadn’t done in a long time and Lacey thought her little sis might burst into big happy tears. It was a realization. Believing a person was a beautiful thing. It made a person ecstatic. Darla positively glowed.

Lacey thought of her father and how, according to Henderson, he’d believed in her but had never said. If only he had. If only she’d known. She would have glowed and her glow would have been so bright, it would have lit up the world.

In that moment, Lacey felt like she and Darla had mended whatever it was that had been broken. She didn’t tell her why she believed her now, about meeting with Stark and the photographs. And Darla didn’t ask questions. Instead, she raved about the wondrous charms of Randy as Lacey bit her tongue.

They went upstairs. Lacey helped Darla dress for her date and Darla hated everything she put on. “I wish there was time to go shopping,” she whined. “My clothes are baby.”

“You don’t want to look too sexy,” Lacey said. “That’s not the girl he—”

“I don’t want to look like a school-kid geek.”

“You don’t look like a geek. There’s a lot of in-between. Tell you what. I’ll let you borrow a blouse. And when I finish with your hair and makeup we’ll get Jake up here and we’ll see what he thinks.”

“Jake? Why?”

“Because he’s a man and . . .” She wanted to say,
And he really cares about you
, but didn’t. Darla looked fretful. Lacey backed off. “Or we don’t have to. Your call.”

“No. That’s okay. We’ll ask him. But I want to wear the headband. Randy gave it to me.”

Lacey turned before Darla could see her frown and led the way to her room. She pulled a baby doll, ruffle-sleeve top from the closet which Darla promptly nixed as too “sweet.”

“Then . . .” Lacey grabbed a white, angel-sleeve top with front tie at the waist and held it up. “What about this?”

“It’s pretty, but I want something . . . I don’t know.” Darla moved to the closet and sorted through it. “This!” She slipped a red, polyester-spandex blouse from the hanger and pressed it to her. She turned for Lacey to have a look. “I love it.”

The sexy, sleeveless top had a black, stud-accented wraparound collar. Edgy chic was what the tag had said—way past school-kid geek.

Lacey pursed her lips. Three weeks ago you would have turned up your nose, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “If you think you’ll be comfortable in it,” she offered instead.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Darla gave her a haughty stare.

Lacey smiled to cover her true feelings. “Try it on.”

Darla tore off the top she was wearing, along with her bra, and pulled it over her head. “I’ll be comfortable in anything as long as I’m with Randy.”

The blouse was too big, which was good because it didn’t cling and lost some of its va-va-voom.

Lacey nodded and took out her phone. “I’ll tell Jake to give us half an hour and we’ll see what he thinks.”

A half hour later Jake was telling Darla that she looked beautiful.

Darla blushed.

Lacey grinned. The blood that flowed to color Darla’s face had to mean she could feel Jake’s attraction to her.

“You’ve grown up.” Jake’s tone was almost wistful and there was a stunned quality to the expression on his face. Maybe it was cruel to have him come up and see Darla dressed to go out with another man. But, damn it. Why didn’t he speak up?

Darla smoothed the blouse she wore and looked down at the floor.

Lacey folded her arms.
They’re both acting like they’re in third grade. It might be cute if—

The doorbell rang.

If there weren’t a ravenous wolf at the door.

Jake was the first one out of the room and down the stairs. He swung the door wide and Lacey could see Randy was surprised to find a virile, attractive male before him.

“Ah. I’m here for Darla.”

Jake and Randy eyed each other like alpha whitetail bucks ready to lock horns, although Randy maintained a smile while Jake’s face held a look of contempt.

“I’m right here.” Darla stepped between the two men and took Randy’s hand.

Randy glanced at Lacey as he put an arm around Darla, pausing a moment before he guided her out the door.

“Take care,” Jake called. “Eighteenth birthday coming up. We’d all like to celebrate.”

Randy didn’t look back. He opened the car door and helped Darla get in. Then he walked around and sank into the driver’s seat.

“You’re a little obvious there, bud,” Lacey said as Jake watched the Lexus drive away.

“Yeah? So is he.”

Lacey laughed. Jake headed for the back door. “Hey,” she called. “Give me a ride tomorrow?”

“Sure. What’s wrong with your car?”

“Nothing. It’s what’s wrong with the neighborhood.”

Jake shrugged and didn’t ask for an explanation. Either he wasn’t concerned or his thoughts were still on Darla going out with another alpha buck.

Eighteen

LACEY SETTLED IN at the computer in her father’s office and Googled, Binged and Yahooed the name Tiffany Class. All she found was information on Tiffany glass.

By eight o’clock, Henry still hadn’t brought Edward home and Lacey had taken to looking out the window. What could Edward possibly be discussing with Maggot for all this time? She was ready to get in her car and go find out when the front door opened and not only did Edward walk in, but so did Marnie the reality TV wannabe, Uncle D, and Dan-the-Man.

Dan came toward her. “I called you. You never called back.”

“I’m protecting my heart.”

Dan gave her a confused stare.

“I guess that’s her,” Reality said, glancing at Lacey, looking bored. “Can I go home now?”

Uncle D popped a Tums into his mouth. “I need you to be sure.”

“Then I’m sure. If it’ll get me home.”

“Look at her for real.”

Reality frowned. She stared for two full seconds. “I’m sure.”

“Good.” Uncle D turned to Lacey.

Lacey cocked her head. “What? She’s sure she saw me today? She did. You could’ve just asked.”

Reality raised a hand that said: There you go.

“I need to sit down,” Edward grumbled. He led everyone to the sitting room.

Lacey took a wingback chair and crossed her arms and legs. “Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” She looked at Dan. He stood in a corner, stiff and serious. She looked at Uncle D.

“Someone murdered Pete Stark.” The detective popped another Tums.

“Maggot’s dead?” A weird sensation moved through Lacey. She didn’t like the guy, but it was strange to think she’d just talked to him and now he was deceased.

“Who’s Maggot?” Uncle D asked.

“That’s what I call Stark.”

“He wasn’t a maggot!” Reality was suddenly outraged. “He was the best boss I ever had.”

“Let me guess. A boss with benefits.” Lacey sounded as pissy as she felt.

The receptionist glared at her and pointed. “She’s the killer.”

“Oh, please. When I left he was alive and you know it.”

Reality smirked. “That’s true. We even made love on the desk after you left. But then I went for an audition. You must have come back.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To take back the money.” Reality tossed her head. “He gave me a thou. He was generous that way.”

“I see. You’re the receptionist with benefits.” Lacey unfolded her arms.

“How about that, Miss Bouquet?” Uncle D stared at her with no expression and Lacey wondered if this was his version of the third degree.

“I didn’t come back. I went home.” She left out the part about waiting in her car for Tiffany Class to come out of the Hotel Pamela. She still wanted to talk to Tiffany before she told the police about her. Maybe it was unwise, but Tiffany was the key to something and she wanted to make sure she was in on knowing what that something was.

“Why’d you go see Stark?”

“I wanted to know what he had on Edward.”

Edward banged his cane. “He had nothing on me, you twit.”

Uncle D turned to him calmly. “You say he wasn’t blackmailing you.”

“Preposterous.”

“Then why did you show up at his office with cash and jewelry?”

“To pay off Harper’s debt. He hired him, not me. Stark wanted his money.”

“Why not take it to the executor of the estate? Let the estate pay. Why try to pay it yourself?” Another Tums.

“I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Lacey choked and the detective looked at her. “What did Stark tell you?”

She thought fast. She couldn’t say “nothing” since she’d given Stark money and they seemed to know about it. She could say he promised her information, but now that he was dead that seemed a little weak. She could tell them about the blonde, but not that he’d given her a name or the pictures. It would only be a half-truth and a slippery slope. She could manage it. “I learned next to nothing. He told me about a blond woman he was hired to find.” She saw Edward’s jaw twitch.

“And?” the detective prodded.

“And he would keep me posted.”

“You don’t know anything about a file?”

“He didn’t show me a file.” That was true enough.

“I didn’t ask you that. I said know anything about.”

Uncle D was smart. Lacey motioned with her hands. “Well, if he had a case, obviously there was a file.”

The investigator’s face grew hard. He looked the way detectives looked in old Humphrey Bogart movies. “We know he made up a hard copy file to give to Edward. You didn’t go back and tear the place up looking for it?”

“No.”

“Somebody did. It’s missing. It was also erased from the computer.”

“I never saw any file.”

Uncle D took a small radio from a pocket and pressed a button. “We’re ready now.” The front door opened and there came the sound of more people entering the house. When two intruders appeared at the sitting room door, it was clear they were cops. “And you didn’t go back for your money?” Uncle D repeated.

“No. I told you.”

“How much did she pay him?” He tossed the words over his shoulder at Reality, eyes still on Lacey.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” the receptionist said with conviction.

Lacey suppressed a smile. Reality was too dumb to think the boss-with-benefits might lie to her.

Uncle D handed Lacey a warrant. “We’re going to search your room and your car, Ms. Bouquet. We’ve checked with your bank and know you didn’t redeposit anything or visit your safety deposit box after the first time this morning. So either you left the money with Stark or you went back and killed him.”

Lacey’s stomach did the back flip and landed on its belly.

“Taking your money back and the file. Our search should determine the truth. We want that file. We intend to find it.”

“If it’s here,” Dan interjected.

Was he defending her?

Uncle D maintained his stern expression. “You want to save us the trouble?”

Lacey shook her head. “What you’re looking for isn’t here.”

Lacey, Edward, Reality, and Dan stayed in the sitting room while the search took place.

“This is a big house.” Reality was suddenly aware of her surroundings. “You work in television or something?”

Everyone ignored her.

“What did Stark really tell you?” Edward hissed at his granddaughter.

“What is there to tell?” Lacey’s glare made Edward look away. She glanced at Dan, still in the corner, eyes on her.
Protect your heart,
she thought and folded her arms. “Thought it was unethical for you to see me. But I guess not, if you’re here in an official capacity. Did you make detective?” 

Dan came closer and his expression showed concern. “They don’t have enough to really suspect you of murder.”

Lacey stopped breathing for a second. To hear the cops’ suspicions put that way for the second time was frightening.

“But if you’re lying to them about anything, that’s not good.”

Protect your heart. Don’t be taken in by the I’m-your-friend move.
“Why are you here?”

“My uncle asked me to come.”

“So I’d see a friendly face and cave? Only your face hasn’t looked friendly all evening.”

“You two should get a reality show,” Reality said.

“Shut up,” Lacey snapped.

The search didn’t take long. The warrant was limited and the cops came up empty.

Edward went to bed. The search team, Uncle D and Reality left. Dan remained behind and came close to Lacey.

“You want me to stay?”

“For what? You’ve served your ethical purpose.” Inside she winced at her words. She did want him to stay—like the last time when he’d kissed her.

She walked to the kitchen and he followed.

“You don’t need brandy to get through this,” he said.

“Through what? Being suspected of murder? Do they think I killed my father, too?”

“No.”

“Thank heaven for small favors.” She put the kettle on to boil as tears threatened to shed. She kept her back to Dan. Maybe he should leave before the two of them were swimming in salt water. “Go,” she said.

“Lacey . . .”

His voice was soothing and for a second she closed her eyes. “Dan. Dan-the-Man. Ticket Master. Mr. I’m-So-Ethical-I-Never-Do- Anything-Wrong.” She took the cherry brandy from the cupboard and immediately felt his hands on her arms, his cheek against the back of her head.

He whispered. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have stayed away.”

Now she was really going to cry. “Don’t tell me that if you’re going to run away again.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“Yes, you did.”

“We have to take this slow.”

“We—” She stopped herself. He was right. He had his reason: Ethics. And now she had hers: Tiffany. She couldn’t let Dan know about that. Not yet, anyway. “Better go,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of brandy to drink.”

He hesitated.

“I mean it. You should go.”

It took several silent seconds, but then he did as she asked.

She stared at the bottle of brandy. She didn’t need it. Didn’t even want it. She put it back in the cupboard.

What she needed was answers. What she wanted was Dan. But she’d pushed him away.